Last Boy/Breed your mom and dad

"Well, I guess I'll head back to my room until you have the suite ready," you say. "I've got . . . something to take care of."

"Yes you do," chuckles Director Shaw lightly. "I'll give you an hour, then I expect you back on you class schedule. Is that understood, Mr. Newman?"

"Yes ma'am," you reply.

"Good. I'm glad the matter is settled."

You don't bother to close the latrine opening in your armor or fix your panties, sure of the discomfort. You simply make your way back to your quarters with your cock out. Your parents walk beside you, maintaining protective positions on your flanks. No one seems to bother you, though you get some strange looks from walking around with your dick standing proudly from your armor.

You get to your room, and close the door. Your father seems to be securing the room, and your mother gives you a big hug, pressing your cock against the cool alloy of her armor in a not-unpleasant way.

"Where did that all come from, sweety?" she asks. "You were like a lawyer out there."

"I just figured they needed me a lot more than they needed me to be a slave."

"They could have killed you and just cloned you. It was a big risk."

"I don't think so. There's no way they want to wait another ten years, or more, to get the program back on track."

"Still, you shouldn't be so cavalier with your life, Taylor."

"Ummm . . . mommy?" you say.

"Yes sweety?"

"I still have a boner. Can I breed you?"

She freezes like a deer in the headlights. "Breed . . . Me?" she says. "But I'm your mother! We're genetically related. That's a bad idea."

"Not really," you say, "it's not like we're in the twenty-first century any more. Since we've removed all deleterious traits from the human genome, there's no chance of having a child with birth defects. The only issue would be reduced genetic diversity, and that would only be an issue if we inbred for generations."

"Still," she says, "you shouldn't think of me like that sweetheart. I'm your mother."

"I don't really see the harm," says you father, smirking. "You should let our boy breed you, Gita. You have my blessing."

"Arleaen!" Exclaims you mom in disbelief.

"I'm glad you feel that way, daddy," you say. "Because I'd like to breed you too."

"Say what?" exclaims your dad. "Ummm . . . I'm more of a top. I mean, I don't mind a little pussy-play . . . but I think of myself as a breeder, not a breedee."

"What's the matter, Arleaen?" asks your mother. "You don't like it when your argument bites you in your ass . . . or pussy in this case."

"No . . . it's just . . . fine!" says you dad, obviously a little flustered. "But if he's going to have his dick in my pussy, then I'm going to have mine in yours!"

"But he wants to breed me, not just have sex with me. If you cum inside me the baby could be yours and not his."

"Fine, I'll wear a condom . . . if I can even find one. Do you know how hard those are to find these days?"

"He needs attention right now. We don't have time for you to look for a condom."

How do you solve this dilemma?

• Risk your dad putting a baby in your mom.
• Breed your mom first so there's more chance the baby is yours.
• Let your dad fuck your mom if she promises to pull out.
• There are ways of keeping your dad from cumming until you let her.
• Insist on breeding them separately.

Taylor Newman		Equipment:
Health	100%	Pink Panties (partially equipped), Kneesocks (equipped), Combat Armor (equipped), Stun Baton, Plasma Pistol (ready), Pretty Pink Dress, Pink Running Shoes.
Fatigue	35%
Arousal	100%
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