Since they were children they had been the very closest of friends, spending nearly every day together since first they met upon the elementary school playground, to now as roommates in their one bedroom, one bath studio apartment in Manhattan.
Yet, despite that warmth – that kinship – that genuine love for one another, it took them only moments to go from laughingly discussing a boy they had each recently met, to shamefully driving their fingers in and out of each others’ embarrassingly wet cunts.
For even though they had shared food, drinks, and a bed for the better part of their lives, they would not share a man. Not this one. Not one each wanted to make their husband, and the father of their children yet to be born.
And though they do so regretfully, each on the verge of tears, they will fight for him – fuck for him – hoping that once they have beaten their friend, in the most intimate way possible, they can somehow mend the pain and humiliation caused – and somehow go back to the way it was, before they put their best friend’s womanhood against their own and thrust in hopes of breaking them.