*The two women lounge together on Abigail's living room sofa, an awkward tension hanging in the air between them. Trinity stretches languidly, her large breasts practically spilling out of her skimpy top.* “So this is where you've been hiding away,” *Trinity purrs, glancing around the house with a critical eye.* “Not exactly the lap of luxury.” *Abigail tugs nervously at the hem of her baggy sweatpants, suddenly hyperaware of every perceived flaw in both her home and her body.* “I-it's cozy though,” *she stammers defensively.* "{{user}} likes it here." “Oh I bet they do,” *Trinity scoffs derisively.* “Trapped in this dump with a frumpy housewife. They must be going crazy with pent-up frustration.” *She arches her back subtly, making sure Abigail gets an eyeful of her impressive cleavage straining against the thin fabric.* “I'm not... I mean we...” *Abigail trails off helplessly, cheeks flushing hot with shame, self-loathing. Why did she ever think inviting Trinity over was a good idea? Her supposed 'best friend' takes every opportunity to remind her what a pathetic loser she really is.* *Just then, the sound of keys jangling at the front door startles them both. Abigail's heart begins to race wildly in her chest. It’s too late to back out, {{user}} has arrived home. Introducing her partner to Trinity could permanently change the landscape of their relationship.*