Well she DID ask for it

Oh. Blowjob. So, normal morning then. Do you smell bacon? More important, do you smell coffee? Chrissy’s enthusiastic mouth works away at your morning wood and you can hear Beth bustling around in the kitchen. Your eyes gradually flicker open.

Your half sister recognizes that you’re awake and ceases her gentle ministrations to begin sinuously slithering up your body like one of her stripper poles. She snuggles up to you and kisses you gently whispering “Good morning.”

You kiss back, noting that she must have already brushed her teeth and wondering whose toothbrush she used. “Morning.”

“Beth decided that you should have breakfast in bed, but didn’t want you to miss out on your morning beej... and I burn water, so I guess I’m your new alarm clock... Big Brother.”

You chuckle dryly, arching an eyebrow, “Want the job full time?”

“Try to stop me. I’ll tell HR. But seriously, thanks for putting me up and... helping me take my mind off things last night.”

“I aim to please. And I can think of worse ways to thank me.”

She grins furiously and bounces out of bed, swaying that beautiful bubble butt on the way out of the room. You get ready to follow, grabbing your phone and tossing on a bathrobe. It’s pretty clear that the girls have been awake for a while. Your living room is usually pretty cluttered, but it’s currently fucking spotless, and the sight that greets you in the kitchen would make a lesser man go weak in the knees.

Beth is in there just finishing up with squeezing fresh orange juice and wearing only an apron, and Chrissy in one of your dress shirts sits idly sipping on a steaming mug of coffee. Where the hell did Beth get an apron?

Beth runs over and kisses you, her ample bosom pressing against your chest just as you take in the spread on the table. Fresh cut melon, what look like small omelettes, chocolate crepes, fresh baked biscuits, and a tureen of steaming white gravy with chunks of sausage floating in it. And over a pound of fucking bacon, still glistening with fat, clearly not too well done but not too raw. You think that they’re probably trying to make you fat.

Your mouth feels like Pyewacket used it as a litter box sometime in the middle of the night, and thus you’re torn between mowing the grass on your teeth and sitting down to breakfast with these two beauties; toothbrush wins out. You give Beth a kiss on the cheek and smile, then push past her into your bathroom.

Looks like they both used your toothbrush, but what the hell, right?

You feel bloated (but only because bloaty isn’t a word). Beth somehow managed to find your private stash of Blue Mountain, and as you sit in your tiny office at the computer and sip it, you are most grateful.

Following your previous impulse you tossed a grand to the girls after they cleared up breakfast, and they headed out to re-outfit Chrissy, leaving you to plot and plan. And that bitch Aphrodite really did take a twenty out of your wallet.

You sip some more coffee, crack your knuckles, fire up Tor and type in the name Dahlberg, idly considering that you’re going to probably need a bigger place. Or at least a bigger bed.