Emily and Morty

Betty rang the bell. That was the sign now. Emily reluctantly dropped her hand from rubbing herself, crawling over to her Mistress. Morty shifted to the far end of the couch, and Betty started to suck off their mixed juices from Morty's sizeable member.

Emily didn't get cock anymore. She gently lapped at Betty's swollen sex, just below her swollen belly. She'd be a nanny soon, Betty told her, changing diapers and babysitting while Black Betty rode white Morty. And as thick dollops of seed slid down Emily's throat, the thought didn't sound as bad as it once did.