The thing that would different from our time in Kenya, was that there would be no way to know, with any certainty, just who the 'father' of the baby w...uld be. With Omar, it had been obvious. He had been the only one to breed Mara. But, with four different 'donors?' Unless we chose to do some sort of paternity test (which wasn't important), this second baby's biological father would remain forever unknown---but, of course, I would be both babies daily 'father', in all practicality! I'd be the. Once awake I would grip his wildly flapping cock in one hand and balls in my other hand and start masturbating him. His body’s rhythms on my shaft would alert me to go faster or slower, the hand holding his balls would tell me how close to climaxing he was. We would synchronise our movements to come to an explosive and simultaneous ejaculation. My cock pumping my seed deep in his ass and he, spraying my face and chest, with his young boy’s cum. Of course every morning was not the same. There. There, it’s a reasonable fit. I’m a good judge aren’t I? Now the apron. Yes you do. Don’t even think about arguing. Do you want me to get the ball gag again? And the paddle? No? I didn’t think you would. So, put it on. It’s part of the uniform, isn’t it?“That’s better. Now the wig. Oh, hadn’t you seen it? It’s over there. Or did you think that was mine? Silly boy! Put the cap on too. Make sure it’s straight. Good. Well, you’re starting to look the part at least. I think shoulder length hair and. Then I let go.The pee ran through my panties and into my tan pants. My crotch immediately went dark as I filled my pants with urine. The warmth was incredible. It felt so good and wanted to just close my eyes and enjoy the sensation. But I continued to stare at Emily. All the people on the bus gasped and whispered to each other as the pee flowed down my legs and up my ass crack, literally soaking my entire bottom half. The pee ran down into my sneakers and out onto the floor. I nearly.