He starts to stroke it gently to put me at ease.“See – that’s not so bad.” Mike said, as he continued to rub my cock. “Here – stroke mine�...� he said.I grabbed his cock and started to pull it back forth. It was still wet from all the sweat from the game – and it was sweltering in the house, this was the valley in the 80’s, with no AC.His bushy pubes were drenched in sweat, but that only made it easier to pump his cock. It was so girthy and soft and had so much pre-cum. He kept stroking my cock and. That which had dripped onto the stool was similarly utilised. That which was left in and around my mouth was hungrily devoured."Who wants a piss?" I shouted. I staggered to the en-suite, sat on the floor, back against a wall, and guided my own urine up towards my mouth, swallowing all I could. Three other streams were soon washing all over me. "Thanks, I needed that," I commented."Don't waste it," they cried. So I knelt to lap some piss off the floor with my tongue. My arse now pointed up. Did you know that he takes one individual under his wing each year for special treatment." She smiled. It didn't need to be spoken. She was his 'special employee of the year.'Under his wing? Into his bed, more likely. "And what happens after the year is over?" Well, most of his assistants go back to school, either for their bachelors or advanced degrees. In my case, I've taken a series of night classes and Mr. Hunter coached my personal development. I've applied for law school. Mr. Hunter says. “I wish my sister was a futa,” another moaned.“It's the best,” I sighed, slipping into a seat, Deidre sitting right beside me. She leaned over and lapped her own spunk off my chin, drawing her tongue up to my lips. As we kissed, the bus pulled away from the curb. I groaned, swapping my jizz back and forth with her as I trembled in ecstatic delight.I so wanted to be a futa. Almost every girl in our college did, too. No one knew how the futa-fairies made their selections. There was my sister, and.