Rachel about to go on a run

I lean against the door frame and look over at who is talking to me.

Rachel’s stretches with one leg on the back of the couch. She wears loose running shorts that stop at her upper thighs. Her hair is tied back in a ponytailed. She lowers her long leg and walks over to me. She places a hand on my shoulder, “What are you looking for?”

“Sheets,” I mumble. “Need new sheets.”

With her arm wrapped around my shoulders, she guides me to the couch, “Sit down. I’ll find you some.”

So motherly to the drunk naked man. I don’t deserve this treatment. I should be embarrassed. I let Phoebe do unspeakable things to me and I loved it. Now I fingered her so hard she pissed all over the bed.

Rachel set folded sheets in my lap, covering my nakedness. I say, “Thank you.” But I don’t move. I stay sitting.

“Do you need help up?” She offers.

“Thanks,” I say. Another excuse to feel her hands on me. She pushes my shoulders, and I **** myself up from the couch. I stagger on step to the bedroom.

“Are you going to need help putting the sheets on?”

“Nah. I got it,” I say and walk to the bedroom, using every piece of furniture for balance.

Rachel follows my naked ass. “You’re definitely going to need help.” She takes the sheets from one, exposing my bare dick again.

In the bedroom, Phoebe naked body is curled up on the floor. She at least ripped the wet sheets off the bed. The room smells like hot pussy. Rachel sees the naked woman who is not my wife, and stifles her questions, “I’m not even going to ask.”

As she starts to put on the fresh bedding, I say, “You can ask. What do you want to know?”

She wants to be polite, but I know she has so many questions.