MAU; Sam's Discovery free porn video

Sam looked at the metal box lying on the garage floor. She and Duncan had found it implanted in a crater in the road on their way back from camping. The meteor storm the night before had got her curious so she told Duncan to stop and take a look at the thing. Joel had leapt out of his seat too, of course, and pestered his mom and dad with questions about the shining box. Duncan had reached for it, and had looked at her, as if expecting her to tell him not to, but she wanted to know what it was too. When he pulled it out of the small hole, it just looked like a metal shoebox, if a little bigger. They stopped to look at it for a few moments before Jessica began to cry. Duncan hefted the box on top of their gear in the back and they proceeded on their way. Now Sam was trying to find out what was in the box. Since last Sunday no one had touched the box. Duncan was quite happy to let Sam try to figure it out in her spare time. He worked all day, played with the kids all night, and just got the chance to speak to Sam around bedtime. She didn't mind that. She was quite happy to accept the evening rest from her duties and slowly drift to sleep. She was staring at the box dressed only in her night-gown. Jessica had woken her up early as though remembering her days of breast-feeding. She had grabbed a bottle from the fridge and sat in the living room with her baby on her lap. Duncan had stayed asleep. He would be up shortly to get ready for the day. She shook herself as she remembered that she was working today too. Joel had to go into kindergarten and Jessica was to be under the care of the new nanny, Amy. Sam was heading into the city to her firm where she would slowly insinuate herself back into working life. She was fortunate. Her boss was quite happy to keep on the temp that had covered her maternity leave, until she was back up to speed. Sometimes as she held her daughter she wondered why she was going back at all, but life was moving on. There were mouths to feed and mortgages to pay. She absently approached the box and flipped it over onto its back. There were some symbols there. She'd seen them when Duncan had lifted the box from the crater. She stroked her hand gently over them as she considered how she might go about translating them. She didn't consider for long. With a creaking that could be felt but not heard the box began to glow, and then to expand. Sam fell back against the Landcruiser as the box filled the space where she had crouched a moment before. It tilted slightly, groaned as though pushing through something, and then instantaneously unfolded into a silver oblong about the size and shape of an old British phone box. Sam gulped. Nothing was coming out of it. She swallowed her fear and slowly approached the new object. It was featureless. She went left first, and then around the back, and then finally squeezed back through to the right hand side. There were features there. At about her waist height was a purple button, that looked for all the world like it would open a door. Above that were two other items. At head height, a featureless black screen, that appeared more than black. Sam could have sworn that nothing was reflected off its surface. She didn't touch it. Below that, about shoulder height, was a red area, with what looked like a handprint indented in it. But the handprint only had three digits. Sam reached for the space, testing to see that the hand was around the size of her own. She placed her thumb in one digit, and two fingers in each of the others. The black screen turned slightly cloudy, and then squiggles much like those that she had investigated on the box began to run up the screen. In moments they finished, and faded back into the fog, which itself began to take on shapes. Interested, she watched, and thought she saw a human figure coalescing from the fog. 'This must be them,' she thought, 'but they look so much like us.' Considering that, she thought about herself as a comparison. The screen brightened and the clouds disappeared to reveal an almost photographic representation of herself. Almost, because if anything it was more realistic, appearing to be three-dimensional on the two dimensional surface. Also, it was naked. Amazed, Sam took her hand away, and the image stayed. It took Sam a very long twenty seconds before she placed her hand back on the lower panel. She concentrated on the image having black hair. Almost instantaneously she could see herself with black hair. She looked quite good, but switched back to her unnatural blonde. That was much more suitable. Satisfied with her experimentation she looked down at the one remaining item, the purple knob. Reaching down with her right hand she touched it, and jumped as a door appeared in the box. Inside she could see a red crystal on the ceiling, and as she stuck her head around the door there was another purple knob equivalent to the one on the outside. 'If the door shuts,' she thought to herself, 'at least I know there's a knob to open it.' With that she stepped inside and reached up to find out what the red crystal did. There was a bright light, and a curious tingling in her scalp. She touched the purple knob and exited. She didn't feel any different, and wondered what the point of the box was. Still thinking it over she returned upstairs, and was halfway up before she realised she was naked. She ran back down the stairs to look in the box for her nightdress and panties, but they weren't there. The image on the screen had faded, but she remembered it being as naked as she was now. Did the machine eat her clothes? "When did you do your hair, honey?" asked Duncan, as he got back in from work. Strange, but Linda, the temp, had complimented her on her hair. "When did I do what?" she asked her husband. "You've touched up the colour," he replied. "Usually you need my help for that." "Yeah, well, I'm just practising my independence." She kissed him as he came over to the couch. However her calm answer belied the workings of her mind. Somehow her roots had been coloured and two people had noticed easily. But the only time she'd played with her hair had been on the image screen of that machine. Were the two connected? Friday was her day off in the new, temporary order of things. She took Joel to school and let the nanny in, then unilaterally decided to keep out of her and Jessica's way. Thus it was that she found herself in the garage with her hand in the print. She figured that the new hair colouring had been the machine's fault, and now it was time to test that theory. She considered the image on the screen and looked critically for something that could change that would test the supposed power of the machine. In only moments she knew what she would do. She concentrated slightly and reduced her slightly potted, post-pregnancy stomach down to a smooth, flat surface. She stepped inside the machine, felt the tingle, and stepped out. Now she was sure. This time the tingle had been on her stomach. She looked down and saw that the fat had gone. Her stomach was flatter than it had ever been. But her hips were now an obvious problem. Minutes later and all her improvements were complete. Getting dressed again in the clothes she had removed she almost laughed as she pulled her belt tighter than she could ever remember it going. She headed up the stairs to stuff herself stupid on pizza. Duncan would love the new her, she considered, later that afternoon. He appeared to be a man of simple tastes, borne out by the fact that Sam was below average height, blonde (though it had been from a bottle), and quite well endowed. She hadn't always liked her large breasts, but her relationship with Duncan had changed her attitude towards them. She still found them to be an occasional burden, but one which was relieved by the pleasure that her husband found in them. (And there was the practical matter that neither of her babies had gone hungry, though rationally, she knew there to be little connection.) She didn't understand the concept behind men finding pleasure in breast size, nor could she understand their perpetual horniness. This chain of thought sent Sam on a brief detour. Was the male orgasm so good that they had to have them all the time? Why were they so easy to control via their penises? Not three thoughts later Sam knew that she was soon going to have to find out all about the male sexual organs. She stepped down the stairs once more. She shook the thoughts out of her mind that were trying to dissuade her from her experimentation. What if something goes wrong? It's unnatural. What if it can't be done? What if you get stuck like it? 'Well, tough!' She thought to herself. If it didn't work it didn't work, and if it did, then she could reverse it. So she stepped out of the booth moments later with a penis and balls hanging down just above where her pussy should have been. And they looked small. In the picture they'd looked a pretty reasonable size, but looking down on them they looked small. Was that why men always worried? She dressed quickly. She gave up on the panties as they were just stretched out in front of her and began to cut into her from behind. And it was uncomfortable to squeeze those testicles. That she couldn't avoid though as she pulled her jeans up. She slid the protrusion as far as she could down one leg and realised two things. She couldn't hide the bulge, and putting her hand on it felt kinda good. She walked back through the house to her bedroom with her T-shirt hanging out just in case Amy wasn't with Jessica in the playroom. Getting there, she locked the door and stripped in front of the full-length mirror. She admired her smooth, slim new curves and then watched in amazement as her latest addition began to rise and grow. As it reached turgidity she could feel its pleasurable presence and knew that this was something that she had to touch. She wrapped her hand around it and began to play. What Sam didn't know was that the machine could do a certain amount of mental adjustment along with the physical. Not much, but just enough to adapt its users to different, often strange new bodyforms. A working penis couldn't belong to a female, only a male. The rest of Sam's physique was possible on a male. Possible on an extremely fortunate, beautiful she-male. Therefore the machine had kitted Sam out with a more masculine mind to go with her male body. She-males were lovers of the female form, so Sam was now bisexual, with probably more appreciation of the female form than the male. Suddenly Sam looking at herself, her curvaceous, well-endowed self, was enough to make her very horny. Thus it was only moments before her slow hand-slides began to make her moan as she felt the pleasure build just behind the tip of her penis. Completely unaware of her oncoming orgasm it shocked her with its intensity and she gave out a low scream. Amy's approaching footsteps brought her out of her stunned reverie. "Are you alright, Mrs. McCready?" She called through the door. "I, er...I'm fine, Amy. I just dropped something on my foot," answered Sam, jostling with her jeans as she realised the impossibility of doing them up over a still semi-erect cock. "You can get back to work." "Okay," came the response and the footsteps moved away from the door. "Mum, can you come over and pick up the kids tonight?" Sam's mother and father only lived a suburb away. "Come around for dinner and take them with you tonight...Yes, I've arranged a weekend away with Duncan, it's the first possible weekend since Jessica was weaned...You can drop them back here on Monday morning with the nanny. I'll be at work...Thanks, mummy. See you later...Love you, bye." Sam had decided to keep the penis. Not only did it feel fantastic, except for a sensitive period shortly after her orgasm, but she also wanted to try a few little things out. She was wearing looser jeans and a pair of her sloggis that were quite used to being padded out in front. The bulge wasn't visible and was well under control. Even so, she often found her hand straying to it, sometimes to shift it slightly, sometimes because it just felt comfortable. Never had her vagina occupied so much of her conscious, and unconscious thought. Duncan would be arriving later, as was usual for a Friday. He was ever tempted by his friends to join them at the pub just down the road from the offices. Tonight Sam had offered him carte blanche. She figured alcohol, at least for her husband, might help with her experimentation. So he probably wouldn't make it home for dinner. Her mother would be reasonably happy about that, though she would harp on about him being home late. Married life had given Sam the opportunity to spot certain weaknesses in her parents, hypocrisy being a major one of her mother's. Serving the dinner Sam felt incredibly naughty, with the secret she had to hide. Unfortunately this resulted in a struggle between her new member and the knicker elastic. She sat down quickly and placed her hand on her crotch, not realising that this would have the opposite effect to that intended. "You look a little flushed, darling," observed her mother, reaching for the potatoes. "It must be the heat in the kitchen, mummy. I'll be fine in a moment," Sam offered her father a glass of wine, a tactic guaranteed to divert her mother's attention. "Be careful, Henry. We have to take the children to the park tomorrow!" Sam's father grunted his assent to her mother. He knew that his position on the trip would be a token gesture. Sam almost sighed aloud. She noticed that her penis had shrunk back down to a manageable size, only in noticing this she made the fatal mistake of thinking about it once more. Penises, when thought about by their owners, have an irritating tendency to grow, and Sam tried heroically to divert her attention to her carrots. Her parents' departure left Sam alone with the washing up and her new acquaintance. She was coming to believe that the little man had a life and mind of its own. Unfortunately for her, she was in the possession of a number of attributes guaranteed to bring it to life, and turn herself on. Washing up, a mundane chore, kept her otherwise occupied, but she knew that if her husband didn't get home soon she was going to have to play with her new toy once more. Fortunately Duncan did roll in just a few moments after she finished the washing up. "I love you," He declared, just after the ritual greeting and the non-ritual french kiss. Sam immediately knew that the evening had been a good one, though early. She counted herself lucky that he hadn't been enticed into town. Probably because nobody was going, she judged, as in his state he would have been unlikely to refuse the offer of a late night. But she still counted herself lucky as she could continue with her plans. "Where are the kids?" was his next uttering. "With my parents," she replied, eliciting a half-hidden smile that she expected, and wanted. Her husband's mildly pickled neurons were considering exactly what she wanted them to consider. But were they pickled enough to cope with her surprise? Her husband's hands generally headed straight for her lap, and tonight she wanted to avoid that. As far as she could remember, every night she wanted to avoid that, but tonight it was just because she didn't want Duncan to find her new addition too soon. She noted with interest that if it weren't for that reason, she would have loved Duncan's hands to head straight downtown. Even thinking about it made it hard for her to keep her own hands away. Why, she considered, was she so much under the influence of this thing? Sam leaped into bed whilst Duncan used the toilet. She left her knickers on. In consideration of his possible reaction, she had decided that she needed to take control as soon as he got into the bed. It was something that she found herself looking forward to. Moments later the two lovers were lying facing each other, stroking each other's bodies, with Duncan's hands never managing to progress below Sam's waist. She could see the confusion in his eyes as she gently guided him away from her knickers. He must have been trying to work out whether her period was due. Reluctantly Sam turned her husband to face away from her. Reluctantly because seeing his hands on her breasts had seemed almost disassociated from feeling them. She had never found her breasts particularly sensitive, except around the nipples when lightly brushed. But the sight of hands caressing her large breasts had caused her penis to begin to pulsate and she felt almost light-headed with excitement. Her own hands on her husband's chest did a little for her, but she momentarily wished he had breasts to stroke before the thought passed. As he faced away from her she began to run her nails up and down his back and buttocks, rested her crotch against the latter, and then reached for his firm cock. He tried to reach back to play with her, a fumble which she never enjoyed but now desired. Except that she couldn't let him find out yet, so she pushed his hand away and shoved her crotch further in between his buttocks. With his cock in her hands she stroked him to a halfway house of moaning and groaning. Now was the time to remove her panties and play. She slid them down while still holding on to him, maintaining a careful pressure, and released her own cock into the triangle formed by his legs on two sides and the bottom of his buttocks. Duncan slid his hand back again, and this time wouldn't take no for an answer. He grabbed her erection and slid his hand towards her stomach, soon finding pubic hair leading to a navel. In a second he was out of the bed. "What is that?" he asked, in a very worried tone. Sam hadn't expected the encounter to pass this way. She had figured on Duncan's confusion, but thought his desire would override it. Hers did. "Come back here, Dunce," she invited; hoping the confusing thoughts might disappear. "You have a dick!" he countered. "You don't have a dick." The logic foundered but the meaning was exact. The image was embedded too deeply for her to overcome simply by seduction. Sam wavered. This wasn't going to plan. More than that, she had a hard-on that could really do with someone sucking it off. She shook her head to remove the image of Duncan's lips, his head at her lap. "It's true, I have a dick, and it is real. Would you like me to show you how it happened?" She could see this register and begin to sink in. Only it didn't relieve any of her husband's confusion. Her affirmation of the impossible being true didn't make it any less impossible in his mind. The thought process therefore ended with the simplest response to the question. Duncan nodded his head. The machine was sitting silently in the back of the garage. Sam led her partially comatose husband to the front of it and placed her hand in the palm-print. As she did so, she realised that seeing his wife change in front of him might only send him further into shock. She had to think of something to change him into, and her mischievous mind, still driven to distraction by her unrelieved horniness, suddenly went into overdrive. If they were going to finish off the night in style, he needed breasts, and he needed fat lips. In fact, she thought, as an image began to appear on the screen, her own body was very attractive - what could be better to sleep with? "I don't know exactly what this machine is," she explained to him, "but it can change people physically. I was experimenting and I got myself a real penis," She dragged him round to the front of the machine and opened the door. "Look," she urged her disbelieving husband, "step inside and reach up for that red crystal," The still naked man did as he was asked. Two seconds after the door closed she called to him. "Now touch the purple knob!" The door opened. Sam gasped as she watched herself step out. For Duncan it was a few more moments before he began to realise what had happened to him. He didn't faint. The unit, as with Sam, had changed his mental outlook slightly to be able to cope with the physical alterations he had undergone. Whereas Sam's changes had been fairly minor, outwardly, Duncan's were very major. He was much shorter, blonde, large-breasted, and most definitely female. The slightest nudge the machine could possibly give Duncan was to believe that he was a girl. So while he noted the dramatic changes, he was comfortable with the result. He went about discovering a little bit about himself, through general look and feel. Sam watched her husband go through his once over with intense fascination. It was as though her bedroom mirror had come to life. She noted a few obvious things; her husband had fewer blemishes or marks as though she had ignored them in the image; he had his hair swept opposite to her, and a beauty spot on her upper lip had swapped sides. She had imagined her mirror image, rather than her true image. At least they weren't identical twins. And, of course, her husband had an enticingly flat crotch, which she was feeling the urge to investigate. All told, her husband now turned her on as much as she herself had since the change, or probably more so, as she began to imagine the pleasures awaiting inside his new honeypot. What neither of them would note was the extent of the mental alterations that Duncan had undergone. Sure, the machine tried to perform as little adjustment as required, but this time it misjudged its requirements. Sam had originally not had a particularly spectacular libido. However, the machine's programming determined that most of its users' alterations were for sexual purposes, so it tried never to lower libidos. Duncan would at least have maintained his through the transformation. But the machine didn't stop there. It tried to determine the subjective sexual requirements of its users. Through interfacing with its users and the general mindset of the surrounding population it had judged the perceived sensuality of Duncan's new form. Not young, though still near her prime, but blonde and reasonable large breasted. The machine had no doubt from its investigations that breast size of the female was related to sexual activity. Thus Duncan's sexual desire was slightly enhanced from his original, and his new body was far more sensitive to pleasure than Sam's had been. What this all meant was that Duncan, rather than shouting, screaming or the like, appreciated the work of the machine and began to seriously consider its implications. He, now she, was very impressed. In fact, it took him mere moments to realise that he could try out quite a few things that he had previously considered impossible. One of those things, being a woman, and its associated experiment of sex as a woman, leapt right to the forefront of his mind. "Is this temporary?" He asked his wife. "As far as I know it's permanent until you step into the machine again." "I always loved your breasts," he said, stroking his nipples, "but I never realised that they felt like this," He walked close to his wife and reached for her naked chest. He began to circle his fingers around her nipples. Sam's penis rose immediately and pushed against his leg. He looked down. "You made me like this so we could try that out, didn't you?" "Yes," Sam admitted. "Do you mind?" "I don't think I do. In fact, I feel fine about it. I guess, if something like this is possible, and it obviously is, I should make the most of it," He stroked his hands around Sam's breasts and down to her hips. Sam saw his face light up as he smiled at her. "Here's something I've always wondered about," he continued, as he dropped down to his knees. As she felt his lips close on her erection Sam was immediately lost. Nothing in her experience could ever have prepared her for the situation of having a beautiful woman on her knees in front of her, and the pleasure of a warm, wet, gentle vacuum sucking on her tumescent member. She gasped as the motion hit every pleasure spot along the length of her shaft, never releasing pressure on the head. She looked down as Duncan broke off. "Do I look like you now?" he asked. She nodded. "No wonder you don't like doing this. Your mouth is too small," That's something that could be changed thought Sam to herself. And would be, she thought, as Duncan showed her exactly how good it felt to be blown. But even though she was on the edge in seconds, and was prepared to blow her load into her husband's mouth with barely a thought for whether he might appreciate that, the blowjob stopped. "My jaw aches," Explained Duncan as he rose up from his knees. He was definitely going straight back in the machine, determined Sam, right after she blew her load between his legs. As her husband leaned in to kiss her she guided her rod between his legs. He jerked back a little, then placed his own hand near hers and parted his lips, sliding his body around hers. She was deep inside him, and she could feel her cock so filled with tense pleasure that the slightest movement would throw her over the edge. Then she felt the drawing motion as her husband, unknowingly, slid naturally back over her. There was a sinking feeling somewhere just below her stomach followed by a pulsing pleasure that grabbed her whole body. She plunged herself deep between her husband's legs in an unconscious attempt to magnify the feeling, and when she could push no more she bucked out and pushed again. In five short strokes she lost herself and as she came back round she felt the last of the cum squeezed from her balls and prostate. She realised she was hugging her husband almost to death and she released him slightly, only to stagger herself as she suddenly realised how exhausted she felt. "That was nice," she heard him say, sounding like herself in a recording. "Can I have a go now?" She let him go and leaned back against the bonnet of the Landcruiser. "I guess if you're anything like me you're feeling a bit sensitive at he moment," Duncan suggested, "however, I do know a very good cure for that." She didn't see him go down on her, but suddenly she felt her shrinking penis being sucked back to size. And even though it was almost painful, it felt so good that she couldn't resist it. With a little effort she was back to her full, if tender, capacity. "That's better," She heard, as Duncan climbed on board. As he began to slide over her length once more she felt some of the tenderness combating her impulse to cum. Soon, though, very soon, her legs began to ache, and that intruded very strongly on her mind. "Can we stop?" She asked her husband. "My legs are aching." She wanted to carry on, but the pain was getting too much. "Shit!" he replied, in her petulant tones. "Can this machine make your legs stronger? Like, really quickly?" Sam looked at the panel. She really wanted to carry on fucking her husband, but she just needed to make him smaller and lighter. "Hey, listen," he suggested, intruding on her thought processes, "if I look like you, wouldn't you looking like me solve a lot of problems, like people seeing two of us?" She didn't really like the idea, be grudgingly admitted to herself that it made some sense. She'd get the strong legs and they'd be able to pass themselves off as husband and wife with the neighbours. Slightly reluctantly she placed her palm to the print and began to imagine Duncan's features. When she stepped out of the booth, she would have looked like Duncan if she was clothed. A certain amount of artistic license had gone into her interpretation of Duncan's body. She had imagined strong legs, and then noted that the penis looked a bit small so she had enlarged it to scale. Likewise she had filled out his chest and arms. What stepped out of the machine was Duncan as he would have looked following a couple of years of weight-training, and penis-stretching. And, of course, not only had the machine given her a fully male libido, but had enhanced it according to the size of her penis and musculature. Sam saw her husband, or rather she saw his naked female body, and she wanted sex. Desperately. The husband and wife team, now as wife and husband, spent most of the weekend fucking. Sam was almost totally reliant on her husband to live. Basically she fucked him, any which way, recovered, and then fucked him again. She had very little choice. Duncan had had some practice in coping with a high sex-drive and was able to take breaks to prepare lunch or have a shower. Sam couldn't understand what had hit her. All she knew was that sex was getting better, especially as she moulded her husband's exquisite body more closely to her desires. By the end of the weekend she had given Duncan a bigger mouth, and plumper lips; longer legs; a smaller waist with bigger hips; much larger breasts; platinum blonde hair falling to mid back; steel blue eyes above a narrower nose; and blemish free, lightly tanned skin. He appeared to be barely sixteen. She had taken to calling him Dannii. Once again, neither of them had really noted the insidious action of the machine, making Dannii almost nymphomaniacal in her desire for sex. Sam woke up and released her arm from under her new toy. Dannii murmured slightly but the night's exertions meant that she probably wouldn't wake for at least another two hours. Sam felt her massive penis rise into the crevice between her sexpot's legs. Only the greatest, forced restraint kept her from sliding her favourite new body part into her favourite, or maybe second or third favourite, orifice in her husband. She crept down to the garage. Work commitments meant that she had to change back to herself and leave before eight. Duncan would probably get up shortly after and he could change himself back. She'd shown him how, even if she'd never let him during their weekend. As she pressed her hand to the print a load of gobbledegook ran up the screen, very similar to the first writing she'd seen on it. As she still hadn't started trying to translate it, she ignored it, and placed her own image on the screen. After a moment's hesitation, she altered it slightly. After all, who at work would be able to spot the difference? She stepped out of the booth and returned upstairs to dress. Putting her bra on felt a little awkward after the last few days. She hadn't needed anything, let alone a bra. Bras were just a pain, but great on women. She looked over at her husband lying sweetly in the bed. They'd had some lucid moments over the weekend, and in one they had measured each other. Sam had sported a true ten-inch penis. Dannii would need a 32GG bra on her 37-19-32 frame. They hadn't found one, of course, especially when the play resulted in them falling back into bed. But they had looked through a lingerie catalogue to check what would look best. Another time they had tried out some make-up, which actually resulted in Sam giving Dannii permanent make-up, via the machine. Suddenly she wished she'd done the same, to save her a couple of minutes in getting ready. Sam's phone rang at her desk. She'd been waiting for Duncan to call. But it wasn't Duncan. "Hello, Samantha," began her mother. "We've just dropped Joel and Jessica off at your place and that new nanny seemed most upset." "Why, mother?" asked Sam, suddenly realising she hadn't even booked Amy again during the confusion of the weekend. Had she turned up anyway? "I don't know," her mother said with some concern. "She's a very pretty girl, that Dannii, but are you sure she's old enough to be caring for your children?" Sam said her goodbyes as quickly as she could. Something was desperately wrong if Dannii still existed. What's more, Dannii seemed upset. She rang her home number. It rang for a long time before, "Hello, Dannii speaking." "Duncan?" "Oh, God, Sam! Your machine. Is it coded to your hand?" Sam couldn't admit she didn't know. She excused herself with her boss and drove home at once. A very worried, huge breasted schoolgirl let her back in. They ran down to the garage, but Sam couldn't get anything to work. Little did Sam realise that the strange writing that she had witnessed that morning had simply meant that her four-day trial period was over following her last change. If the company's account was not credited the requested number of febulons within a couple of days, the machine would pack itself back up into its little box. She looked at Dannii. "I'll get you some clothes, and shoes, and whatever you need, but I can't afford to look after you and two other kids. You want to sleep here, you find some way of paying your way." The young girl looked solemnly back at her with tears brimming in her eyes. "I am so sorry, Duncan, but I haven't got a clue what to do!" She looked at her husband with pity. "Shit!" she exclaimed, looking at the floor. "You can start by nannying if you want to. I'm pretty sure that looking after your own children will be a bad idea when you don't look anything like daddy, so you don't have to. I'll keep trying that machine, and we'll fix you up as soon as it works." Sam watched her husband as he ran back into their bedroom. If this was permanent, she was going to have to help him out, but she really couldn't afford to keep him. The only thing arguing his case was a little, anomalous part of her anatomy. As she watched his prominent ass retreat through the door she stroked her bulging crotch. At least something wanted her husband to stay, and boy, were the blow jobs worth it!