The dining room table 10

In the back room of the house, adjoining the kitchen, was the dining room. It was usually quite a regal and ornate space, but now decorated with plastic cups and empty bottles it looked anything but. The most eye-catching thing in the space was the dining table, a massive altar of mahogany that was so heavy you could barely get one side of it off the ground. Normally it wouldn’t be much of a hiding place, but now that it was bedecked with all the detritus of a party, it could reasonably conceal something as small as a planchette. Carefully, you pick up cups from the crowded space, checking inside them in case the planchette was tossed in. If the cup was empty, you discarded it over your shoulder with a clatter. If it still had any liquid, in you placed it on the floor, unwilling to sully Sarah’s house even though you were in a rush. One by one, you clear the table of it’s mess, with nothing to show for it. Once you put the final empty beer bottle on the floor you flip up the table cloth that runs down the center of the wood, just to make sure your target wasn’t stashed under there. When that finds nothing, you briefly consider hefting up the table to check under it’s feet, but ultimately decide against it. If the planchette was under there, the whole thing would probably be crooked, and besides that, you doubt even Tom could lift this thing in a hurry. Stepping away, you resolve to look somewhere else.

You failed. You found nothing anywhere, and now you hear the final few thrusts of John Doe’s hips, followed by his grunting of satisfaction through gritted teeth that can only be him finally letting go the tide he had been holding back. He must be balls deep in your crush, flooding her fecund womb with his fertile seed like she was his bitch to breed. Miranda barely made a sound as he finished inside her, except for a quiet purr of pleasure as he filled her up like a cream donut. Not only was he cumming inside of her, she was letting him, and she was loving it. It's over.

Upstairs, it seems Sarah has woken up again. “Ohh, that was amazing John Doe,” she sighs, probably resting her red head on his shoulder as he pumps his cum into Miranda’s pussy. “Whoah, so much!” She titters, presumably watching his seed gush from Miranda’s fuck hole once he pulls back his limp cock. “Did you ask before you came inside?” She asked, even in the afterglow of her strongest orgasm some part of her was still thinking of her friend. A low rumble is his reply. “Ha, of course she did,” Sarah laughed. “I would have asked for it too. That really was incredible,” she said, speaking to him like he was an ordinary lover and not a ghost possessing a friend. “But, y’know, you really can’t stay forever. As much as I would like to keep you around, Tom has his own life. You can’t just steal it,” she pleaded with John Doe, and to your surprise he seemed to listen. When he grumbled something back you could almost hear Sarah smile. “That sounds like a good idea. We can make a deal.”

"John?" She called your name loudly, making you jump like you'd just been caught listening in on her. "You can stop looking now."

Bad Ending

You didn’t get the planchette in time and now John Doe is going to strike a bargain with Sarah and Miranda