On the floor

It is hard not to feel out of place in this situation. All these women seem to have very specific expectations of you, but don't bother communicating them. As you look back an forth between the options, something catches your eye.
Maybe it's Mrs. Andersson's meaty, bare legs. Long and powerful, just the right amount of tan. A few droplet of sweat is running along the contours of her muscles. Mrs. Anderson is generally well built, but it seems like her lower body has gotten extra attention.
Or maybe it's the way Camilla.. Mrs. Cook.. Camilla (there also is a strange, almost formal naming convention.. At least how they were introduced. It makes it difficult to know how to refer to these women.) is almost absentmindedly tapping carpet with her toes. She is barefoot, and the casual dexterity she displays is.. intriguing to say the least.

You have not forgotten why you came here, and since they have be courteous enough to pick who you're interested in (as you assume), something about being below these two women seem extremely appealing.

Going from though to action is another matter entirely though; as you find it when you awkwardly wander over and take a seat on the pillows on the floor. With the imposing wall of Mrs. Andersson's legs on your right side, and the distracting tippety-tap of Camilla's feet on the left, you find yourself sitting ramrod straight in the middle. With every loud beat of your heart, you dick swells a little - yet you're not sure where to go from here.

"Don't be shy.." Camilla laughs, her rusty voice startling you, "..Feel free to get as close as you like.. We can't reach you from there."

You stare from side to side; time to make a decision.