The perv upstairs

Brianne gasped, her delicate fingers moving in bursts of motion on her moist entrance. She kept going, keeping herself on the edge for a time that for most would be a challenge, yet she maintained it with ease. The protrusion of her oversized clit veritably vibrated with ecstasy as her fingers played circles across her most sensitive place.

Her free hand scrolled with the mouse as she appreciated her counterpart's collection of images. Hung girls of a hundred variety’s shooting wads large enough to cause physical harm. Their pretty eyes rolled back as her puffy lips gaped in orgasmic euphoria.

Already she'd taken inspiration, typed something, strumming herself furiously to the idea that those depraved thoughts were becoming written in stone.

Her mind wandered to the person who had brought her here, with his beautiful, big dick and eerily similar personality and looks.

"Mmm…"

She nearly peaked, visualizing what he must look like now, how much more alluring his cock would be in his new form. Did he remember? Most likely he would be oblivious, a fact that just made it that much hotter for the depraved double to think about.

Then there was his mother, the changes she'd **** on her would be tantalizing to the freshly-born futa, she'd made sure of that. Were they fucking? Even right now as Brianne played with her suspiciously large clit was the newly created futa pounding her mother’s cow-snatch, filling her with so much incestuous love?

The mental visual was too much, of that majestic dick pumped by legs curvier than just moments before into her duplicate’s much more “productive” mother’s eager hole. The way that the older woman’s fat ass must quake and ripple as her virile daughter pounded with abandon…

“Shitshitshitshit…” Brianne gasped quietly as her legs kicked out below the desk, her hips jerking out of her control as ripples of orgasmic power shot through her. Her pussy gushed, grabbing onto some phantom invader as her hand blurred circles on the large nob protruding from her blushing hood.

It hadn’t been just because Brianne had thought it would be hot for mother and “son” to get “closer”. She knew herself, and so had a fairly good idea of how Blake must be feeling about his situation. He would be horny, excited to try out this new power on other people, yet he would probably be unable to get past his own protective barriers, to do something drastic even if it was exactly what he needed. So who better to open the boy’s eyes than his own mother.

It definitely wasn’t just because Brianne enjoyed the idea of the boy-turned-futa impregnating his own mommy.

OK maybe she was getting a little bit out of it as well…

—

“Thanks for the meal mom!” Becca shouted back as she rushed up the stairs, careful not to show the tent in her loose pants while also aware of the sloshing cup in her hand.

“Happy to help dear, just remember mommy’s always here if you need someone!”

A flush rushed up Becca’s chest, ideas that were most likely not what the woman was suggesting causing the futa pick up the pace even more. Distracted, she forgot momentarily about the sloshing liquid and a stream of thick milk shot off, splattering across her cheek.

With every moment that Becca remained, sitting at the table, her body had reacted, seeming to grow hotter by the second. It wasn’t enough that her mom was oblivious to just how fucking sexy her curvaceous body was, but her insistance to refil her daughter’s glass every time she emptied the delicious fluid…

Becca had found herself emptying out the glass too quickly, the allure of watching her mom squeeze herself into a milk-gasm every time too hard to resist, no matter how much she tried to deny that she thought of the woman as anything other than just the person who gave birth to her.

She rushed into her room, shutting the door quickly and leaning back against it with a sigh. She shivered, the memory of her mother’s naked nipple shining with some white-ish liquid as a dribble ran down the mountainous breast.

“You’re back!” her own voice said from across the room.

Opening her eyes, she saw that girl, Brianne, sitting with not a strip of cloth on her. Her pussy looked red and swollen. The desktop, showing a hung dickgirl, an image which Becca had personal knowledge of, on the monitor.

In all the chaos of her own internal struggle, Becca had somehow forgotten about the girl sitting slumped in her chair. A spike of worry shot up the futa’s spine. Her gaze wandered a little to the side, seeing her phone on the desk. She sighed internally, seeing that the screen was locked. That didn’t mean that Brianne hadn’t just locked it after putting in a transformation or two, but the fact it wasn’t being actively used at the moment settled her worries a little for now. It would be a fairly convenient explanation for why she was now finding her mother so… alluring.

“So how’d the chat go?” Brianne asked, not doing a very good job of hiding the hint of a smirk as she said it.

OK, that was a little suspicious.

“Uh-ha” Becca coughed, averting her gaze. Reflexively she brought the glass up to her mouth to take a sip but then thought about where that milk had come from and, blushing, decided to just hold it at her side for now.

“It was alright… er-I mean you know how mom is…” she said, avoiding the question as she tried to not draw attention to her “flag-pole” which had yet to abate.

“Uh-huh” Brianne said, now unable to stop the edge of her lips from climbing. She read a little more into the words than reality warranted, imagining the pair in several exciting positions.

Brianne relaxed in her seat, feeling a thrill as her entrance moistened. Her eyes climbed up her duplicate’s transformed body in appreciation of her own handi-work.

Before they had been an eerily similar pair, different only in their shapes and the ways they maintained their body's. They had been same-ey but separated by the differences associated with male and female. Now they could nearly be called clones. Green eyes and brown hair, the same pretty but average face. Even their reactions were the same, they both blushed the same way, noticing Becca’s hard-ly obscured dick at the same time. The only visible differences were the three obvious swells in Becca’s clothing, two on her chest and a third larger one at her crotch.

“Hey, catch!” Brianne said, tossing the phone beside her.

Becca nearly lost her grip on her glass of milk as the slim device slipped out of her free hand and between her cleavage. She gave her twin a chastising look as she tried to fish the thing out from the wide gap between her tits.

Brianne enjoyed watching the spectacle for a time, congratulating herself on that little change. More than likely the futa’s closet would be filled with only attire of such appealing design.

“I’ve been sitting up here bored while you’ve been ‘enjoying’ mom’s company. Why don’t you do what you brought me here to do and mess with me a little?”

Brianne spread out in her seat, putting her body on display. Her thin chest, the slight curve of her hips, her wet lips and fair skin. Like her double she was appealing to look at, just, with less to “show off”.

The girl’s words had an immediate effect on her futanari counterpart as said futa finally got a handle on her slippery phone. Becca’s eyes flicked up, sparkling with interest and hunger, looking over her twin’s nubile body with newfound interest.

“I mean… if you really want to…” she said, heart racing. She took a sip of her elder’s milk, humming in pleasure before setting it aside. This needed her full attention, finally a chance to indulge... a little.