She began to move in and out slowly and the increasing the pace, before slowing again, altering her pace back up to fast and hard and then down to slo... and gentle, each time her full length going deep inside of me, I could feel my own cock pressed between the bed and my stomach, it felt as though I would release my own cum as she continued rhythmically to work me into heights of pleasure I don’t think I had ever reached previously. She began to groan as her own climax approached and then. ” My words trailed off at the next futa to step up. I squeaked, “Futa-Mom!”My futa-mother, who wasn't supposed to be here, stepped up before me. I shuddered, covering my tits and squeezing my thighs shut. Mom moaned in the background, oblivious that her futa-wife had shown up while she was in the middle of servicing the three Black futas. “What are you doing here?” I gasped.“I wanted to come down and support you and the bake sale,” my futa-mom said, her dark-olive cheeks blushing. She wore her. They got a lot more than the decent musician pay. They were happy that we were booked there. The band, of course, got to see my wife in all kinds of positions and spread in all directions. They watched her take, at least, twenty guys to that back room area from Monday to Saturday. By Saturday, our final night at Lorraine's, my bass player got up the nerve to ask me if I minded him trying my wife. Considering her traffic flow, why would I slight him? Was he not as good as the other "johns?" So,. Gramps had rigged up a shower in the basement. It wasn't an enclosed bathroom, just a shower head above the floor drain with a rubber mat to stand on. I put on my shower shoes and headed downstairs in my robe.Just as I was getting under the shower gramps came down. "Why is there a dixie cup and piss in the tub upstairs?" he demanded. Oh shit, I forgot to clean up my mess! "Well, I, Uh" I stammered trying to find an explanation. My face was hot and flushed with the embarrassment. "Look, he said,.