..Play with?I shook my head. What a random thought.“It's just... I think futanari means hermaphrodite in Japanese.”“Hermaphrodite Mom's Scented ...andles?” I asked. “That can't be right.”“Well...” Sarah shrugged. “I don't speak Japanese as well as my parents or my older sister. Mom was more insistent that she learn it than me. Maybe I'm wrong.”“Maybe it's some White woman who heard a pretty Japanese word and doesn't know what it means,” said Mary. She drew in a deep breath, her breasts stretching. She giggled and went to her car.On the way there she decided to play some songs to get in the mood.She started with "I Touch Myself" by the Divinyls. She started humming the song, and it was not long before she was singing. She knew the words by heart.She was wet by the time she got to the laundromat. Her car seats were damp. The evergreen air freshener hanging from her mirror was working overtime.The moment of truth had arrived. Was anyone there, and was number eighteen being used? She walked. Jenny froze in her tracks and just stood there open mouthed looking at me with my tits hanging out of my dress whilst sat on the face of Janet, who still had her shorts off and small tits popping out the top of her bra.Jenny was dressed as a naughty French maid, so her stocking clad thighs and sexy high heel shoes did nothing for the situation.I tried to get up, but ended up pulling on Jenny's outfit as if I was trying to bring her into the party. I managed to get to my feet and try to explain. But the young men had been brought along in stages,their natural maleness worn away, their self-images warped, and theirindividual wills weakened more than they realized. All at once they wereexchanging sloppy penetrating kisses, unable to stop or even slow down.They held each other's heads and locked lips. Not until they had done somuch and been so spirited, that they could never deny to themselves theextremity of what they had done, or the lengths to which they had takenit, were they told.