Back downstairs

You dont typically believe in all that.. yoga and spirituality stuff.

"Oh no thanks Mrs. Deepstroke, ill just rest it." You tell her before heading downstairs.

"Well let me know if you change your mind dear!" She shouts after you.

As you descend the stairs there seems to be a small commotion. You wonder what it is as you run head long into a young futa. Dazed you catch your self on the railing.

"Hey!" A familar young voice calls out. You look down to see a futa you recognize from school, Emma. She has short dark hair, a blue tight sweater, and a black skirt.

"Sorry, wait emma right?" This is the first time youve ever spoke to her outside of school as she is very attractive and popular. She crosses her arms and frowns at you.

"Yeah could you please move? I need the bathroom." You allow her to pass by in her foul mood. What was she doing here? This wasnt part of the moms plans... you descend the stairs further to investigate.

Back in the main living room most of your friends had returned to the living room. The moms all seemed to be argueing in the kitchen. From a quick headcount your numbers were shrinking. Only five guys left..

"Hey doug, you ok?" One of the guys yells to you.

You dont turn, keeping an ear out for key words in the kitchen. "Yeah, im good. Your mom wanted me to get in the hot tub but.. yeah i didnt want to."

"Woah they have a hot tub here?" Someone else called as you can hear the scramble of him running upstairs.

Ignoring the rest you manage to sneakily peek around the corner of the kitchen to easedrop. You cant make out which voice is which but you hear snips.

"No no who told her about this, she doesnt even have a son."

"She is on the normal pta, maybe an email got swapped."

"There isnt enough left sure debra, charlotte, samanatha and the others got to fuck a son but what about us?"

"He daughter is another problem!"

"Ladies im sure we cant figure this out, well just ask her to leave."

"Oh my they are upset arent they?" A voice behind you makes you jump into the air. Vivian Granpolla, Emma's mother. She had a tight purple sweater that barely contained her inpressive bust. Similar to her daughter her hair was short and dark. Her whole demeanor was of arrogance. "I havent seen them this upset since i caused sarahs first divorce. Do you think i should leave?

You swallow hard, staring into her dark dominating eyes... you may want to enagage.