Chapter 1: Lola's Hot Birthday Surprise

July 22nd, 2037 – Lola Albertson

“Today’s guests are the six futa-sisters who organized the campaign that got their mother, Becky Woodward, elected president of the United States last year,” Adelia Tash said as she sat in the central chair of her streaming studio. My sisters and I, plus my wife, were seated in two couches flanking her. I was to the left, Jen at the end, with Rebecca next to me and Christina beyond her. My other three half-sisters—Danielle, Bethany, and Leah—sat on the other couch. Two cameras broadcast us out to the internet and the world.

“We’re so glad to be here,” said Leah. As Mom’s press secretary, she was used to being out in the spotlight. I squeezed Jen’s hand, a little nervous.

I was just my futa-mom’s speech writer.

“So, you’re all turning nineteen today,” said Adelia Tash. “That’s incredible that you’re all so close together in age. You were all among the first daughters Becky ever bred in any women.”

“Lola’s the first,” Rebecca said. “And I’m the second.”

Adelia Tash nodded, eyes flicking to me. She was an elegant woman, refined, with caramel skin. She wore a pink, one piece dress with no sleeves and a scoop neckline showing off a hint of her round cleavage. Her legs were crossed and toned, shaved smooth.

“They celebrated their birthday in style,” said Jen. My pregnant wife—we were married only two months ago, but I knocked her up earlier than that—squeezed my hand. “I helped set up a special treat for Rebecca and Lola.”

My cheeks blushed as Adelia stared at me. “Oh, care to share, Lola?”

Rebecca glanced at me. “Yes,” I said, remembering that day last year. “We were having our shared eighteenth-birthday birthday. It was right after they sang us happy birthday when...”

July 22nd, 2036

“Happy birthday to you!” sang everyone gathered around me and my five half-sisters. We were in my house’s dining room. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear futas! Happy birthday to you!”

My cheeks were burning red from all our friends from high school, along with older friends of our mothers, clapping and cheering around us. The room thundered with applause. It radiated out through the house. It was so embarrassing.

“Blow out the candles!” shrieked my girlfriend, Jen. “Come on, Lola! Do it!”

I glanced at my other sisters as we were clustered around our large birthday cake. It had eighteen candles burning happily on it. They were all pink. That waxy scent filled the air. Rebecca stood beside me. She was the closest of my half-sisters. Our relationship was even weirder thanks to our mothers’ relationships than the other girls.

“Come on!” said Danielle. She was in the middle, a big smile on her lips, her sandy-blonde hair spilling around her. “We only turn eighteen once!”

“I turned eighteen five days ago,” I muttered then drew in my deep breath.

Rebecca, Danielle, Christina, Leah, Bethany, and I were among the first futas born into the world. We all shared the same futa-mother, Becky Woodward. Yes, that Becky. The one that had exploded onto the world when she became a futa nearly nineteen years ago. The futa who made every woman in the world pant after her in lust.

The one whose futa-seed was so potent it caused any woman with an intact reproductive system, who also wasn’t already pregnant, to conceive. No birth control had ever stopped her. It didn’t matter what part of a woman’s cycle she was in, our futa-mother put women into heat.

My mother, Janice Albertson, was the first woman Mom ever fucked. Becky lost her futa-virginity to my mother. Rebecca, standing beside and drawing in her own breath, was conceived when Mom fucked my step-mom (who was also Janice’s step-mom, but now the pair were basically married so Mrs. Albertson, as she was called, was now my step-mom).

With a mighty exhalation, we blew out our birthday cake. All six of us huffing and puffing, our bodies leaning over the cake. My round breasts swayed in the cute crop top I wore that left my belly bare. A tight jean skirt hugged my waist and showed off my bulging futa-cock.

Like our mom, all six of us were futas. She only bred daughters like us.

“You did it!” Jen cheered, my girlfriend bouncing beside me. I shook my head. Why was she so excited. We blew out some candles.

Then her arms went around my neck and she planted a hot kiss on my lips. I trembled as her tongue darted into my mouth. An “oohing” rose around us from all our friends from high school who’d graduated last month like us.

My cheeks were burning while my cock throbbed in my panties, cut to fit a futa-cock. With thousands of my half-sisters coming of age across the United States this summer, they were needed.

Jen broke the kiss, a big smile on her lips. Her large breasts swelled the scoop-neck, pink top she wore, thin spaghetti straps holding it up. She cuddled against me, her blue eyes shining. They were such a vibrant hue. So intoxicating. Her hand squeezed my rump.

“Mmm, happy birthday,” she purred in my lips.

“That was five days ago,” I groaned. It was only Christina’s birthday. Of the six of us who’d grown up close together, Christina was a latecomer. Though conceived on the same day as Danielle and Leah, she came two days later than them.

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Jen said. She glanced at my sisters. “They’re all having fun.”

Bethany was already cutting into the cake. She was a supportive kind of girl. She had a motherly vibe about her even at eighteen. Her golden-blonde hair was a richer shade than my own sandy hue. All of our hairs were different shades, but you could see our Mom in each of our faces. Rebecca and I had the same shape of noses, while Christian and I had the same rounded ears. Bethany and Leah had the same plump lips.

“Here you are, Lola,” Bethany said, giving me a cheery smile as she handed me a paper plate with a piece of chocolate, strawberry cake on it. “Mmm, I think Danielle’s mom out did herself on baking this.”

“Yes!” Danielle moaned. She was the most outgoing of us. Her mother, Dona, was similarly bubbly. Danielle and I had the same hair color, a darker shade of blonde than our futa-mom. She took another big bike, flecks of cake smeared on her lips.

A cutie from school named Georgia darted in and kissed Danielle, licking up some of the cake. Then she giggled and ran off. Danielle grinned. Out of all of us, Danielle was the most like our mother. She was always sneaking kisses from girls and flirting with them. While none of us inspired the lust the way our Mom did, we were all sought after and pursued.

After all, we were futas. We were girls with big dicks. Since most women would never get to sleep with our Mom, they wanted to settle for us. Danielle didn’t mind.

I had Jen, so I just turned them down.

The music started up. It was an old, a classic from Drake. The beat pumped through the house, my had bobbing as I enjoyed the chocolate-strawberry cake. It was delicious. I groaned as I munched on it with Jen while Danielle was grinding on Georgia as the pair danced in the middle of the living room.

Christina, of course, was sitting by herself reading a book. Her step-dad, Chris, was a big nerd. Even though they weren’t biologically related, she was his daughter. But it was good that she was a nerd. She was bright. We were going to need her for our plans.

Rebecca sat down beside me, staring at her phone.

“Good news?” I asked her.

“We’re getting the signatures together,” she said. “The Futa Party’s going to be on the next election ballet. In every state”

“Do you think Mom has any idea?” Bethany asked. She came up to us her hips swaying. She wore a tight pair of jeans cut to show off her futa-dick. It was a new line just launched this year, the clothing companies starting to make more and more clothes as more and more futas hit their teens.

“Oh, no,” I said. “I hear she’s down on the beach in Mexico breeding every Latina hottie she can find.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun,” Bethany said. “I want to do some breeding, too, but...”

“You have to keep your hands off those virgins for Mom,” I said.

We were lining up “interns” for Mom’s presidential campaign we were launching for her in the fall. Rebecca and I had come up with the idea. We were both eager to work with Mom, to get to know her. Uncle Kurt talked about her a lot, reminiscing on when they dated before the change happened, then their time in college together. To keep Mom focused, we planned on parading as many virgin girls for her to breed so she could make speeches and do press conferences.

Our futa-mom just had an effect on women. It was insane. I don’t know how she could go through life with women just flinging themselves at her.

“It’s hard,” groaned Bethany. “I really, really want to enjoy them.” She arched Jen an eyebrow. “Are you still a virgin?”

“In my pussy,” Jen said and blushed.

“We tried anal out on my actual birthday,” I said, grinning. “I lubed her up and sank into her. It was incredible.”

“Anal is great,” Bethany said, a smile growing. She glanced at Rebecca. “When are you going to lose your cherry?”

Rebecca shrugged, her red hair swaying. She had the same fiery locks big tits as her mother. “I’m not in a hurry.”

My eyes flicked across the room to where Mrs. Albertson chatted with some of our mothers. She was a MILF in all the best ways. She had aged deliciously. She was in great shape, her breasts big and full, her hair this vibrant red sweeping about her shoulders. Her husband (yes, she had a husband and was in a relationship with my mother) was chatting with my mother (her husband’s daughter) Janice on the other side of the room.

See how complicated it was. My grandfather was sharing his wife with his daughter. It was our futa-mom’s fault, of course. She showed Janice and Mrs. Albertson how much fun girls could be. Mr. Albertson didn’t seem to mind sharing his wife. Which meant that Rebecca was both my half-sisters and my step-aunt, even though I was older than her by about seven hours.

It made my brain hurt. It was why Mrs. Albertson was my step-mom. It made things easier for me to think of it in that way.

“I think you’re going to lose your cherry tonight, Rebecca,” Jen said as she squirmed beside me.

I blinked at that. “What do you know?”

She winked at me. She nuzzled against my ear. “Since you’re letting your futa-mom take my cherry, I thought it was only fair that someone else gets yours.”

“But we’ve already had sex,” I said, confused. My pussy clenching as my girl-dick remembered plunging into her tight asshole. That velvety grip felt amazing about my cock. Just to die for.

She slid her hand up my thigh and beneath my jean skirt. I gasped as she rubbed against the crotch of my panties, pressing the satin cloth into my pussy. My girl-dick grew even harder, throbbing from the folds of my pussy. She caressed up and down it, her eyes blue smoldering.

She nudged my hymen.

“Wait, I’m not having sex with a guy!” I hissed. “Eww. I like girls. I’m not...” I frowned. I didn’t know if liking girls made me gay because I was mostly female, or if liking a guy would. “I like girls. You!”

“Someone asked me if they could pop your cherry,” said Jen. “Someone that I know you’ll enjoy.” She arched an eyebrow. “And they don’t have to have a dick to do it.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Rebecca asked, squirming beside me. “I’m hearing a lot of talk of cherries.”

“I know, it’s making me hard,” Bethany said. “Mmm, I see Georgia. She doesn’t have a cherry. Maybe she’ll fuck me.”

“Have fun,” I said as Bethany darted off, her golden-blonde hair bouncing about her shoulders.

“What is this about someone taking our cherries?” Rebecca asked, glancing past me to look at Jen.

She winked an eye at my half-sister as the music changed. The sultry purrs of Rihanna started playing. It was her new single. I grinned. I grew up listening to her. She had a great voice, not like some of the stars popping up these days.

Though Nari, one of my many half-sisters, had a voice of an angel. She was blowing up the charts. As I was pestering Jen for more information, my mother, Janice, appeared. She had short, brown hair that framed her mature and lush face. Though she was a busty woman, my tits were not nearly as big. I’d inherited our futa-mom’s round breasts.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, grinning at her. “Jen’s being a pest! Can I tie her up and tickle her?”

“Save that for your bedroom,” Mother said, giving me a wink. “She might like it.”

“Ms. Albertson!” gasped Jen, her cheeks going red. My girlfriend gave the cutest squeak.

“Ooh, I like that,” I said, standing up. “Let’s go. I’ll tie you up right now and use a feather duster on you. I’ll get you to talk.”

“After,” Mother said, taking my hand. “Come on. I have something to give you. A gift. Oh, Rebecca, your mom has something for you, too.”

“Oh?” Rebecca asked. She stood up, her large tits swelling her halter top. Her pleated skirt swished around her thighs.

“Yeah, go wait in your bedroom,” Janice said. “Your gift will be along soon.”

My eyes widened. I glanced at my girlfriend. She winked at me. Did my mother hire me a hooker or something? Did that mean Mrs. Albertson bought one for Rebecca, too? A strange, giddy thrill lanced through me as I took my mother’s hand. She led me through the house, my futa-dick throbbing in my panties.

“What is it, Mom?” I asked, squeezing her tit.

“Oh, I think Jen told you just what it is,” she answered. She gave me a wink of her hazel eye. “Something special. Me and your step-mom worked it out between us. We thought it was ... fitting. A nice way to celebrate you two becoming adults.”

My heart beat faster and faster. They had bought us hookers.

“Now, I left you something on your bed,” mother said when she paused by the door. She cupped my cheeks and smiled at me. “Oh, you look so much like Becky did that day, Lola.”

I shivered. I knew the story, Becky told it enough in interviews, to know that my mothers made love in the bathroom whose door was right behind me. That my bedroom was Janice’s old room, where they continued making love.

“I hope you have as happy memories to today as I do of that one,” my mother continued, emotion shining in her eyes. Then she kissed me on the forehead. “Enjoy.”

Feeling dazed, I slipped into my bedroom. There on the bed was a clothing box with a bow wrapped about it, pink and beautiful. I rushed to it, my heart racing. There was a tag tucked half under the bow.

“For my beautiful daughter,” the flowing script read, “put on what’s inside and wait for your birthday surprise. Love, Mom.”

I shuddered and kissed it. I didn’t know Becky well, but my other mother was amazing. I pulled on the bow, shuddering as the satin ribbon rasped together. It came undone, and I opened my gift. I lifted the top of the box and peeled back the dainty tissue paper.

A black negligee lay inside with a sleeping mask waiting on top.

“Ooh, that’s kinky,” I said.

I stripped naked in a flash. I peeled off my top, freeing my round breasts to bounce and jiggle. I tweaked my pink nipples, a hot shudder racing down to my molten panties and hard futa-dick. I shuddered, hips wiggling, and attacked my jean skirt. I thrust those down my thighs. They fell in a puddle of denim around my feet.

I stepped out of them, my cock tenting the front of my satin panties. The gray fabric looked so nice, but weren’t needed. Those came off next. My dick popped out, bobbing before me. I had a line of blonde hair leading down to the top of my pussy where my labia wrapped around the shaft of my cock. I was thick and large, bigger than most guys.

Or so I was told.

I gave myself a quick stroke as my excitement bubbled through me. Who had my mom picked out for me? I glanced at the wall separating me from Rebecca (she had Uncle Kurt’s old bedroom). Was she finding a similar gift for her encounter. Were they hookers? Or were they people we knew? Girls from school. Maybe a teacher we had a crush on.

A family friend.

I groaned and pulled on the negligee. The silk fabric felt so cool and smooth against my skin. I whimpered as it rasped over my nipples. It fell down to just above my cock, handing in a frilly gossamer, like inky shadows made into a sheer delight for me to wear. The material was dark around my breasts, hiding my nipples, but my stomach bled through.

My cock twitched and throbbed before me. My virgin pussy clenched in anticipation. I dug through the tissue paper, seeing if there was a skimpy pair of panties to go with it. There wasn’t.

“Okay,” I muttered, grabbing the sleeping mask and pulling it on.

Darkness became my world.

“You’re going to have sex with a beautiful woman,” I told myself. “Jen’s okay with it.” I shuddered. What if it was Jen? What if she was messing with me? Unless Jen was going to pop Rebecca’s cherry.

I didn’t mind that. Becky was showing the world that sex and love didn’t have to be intertwined. Many men loved having their wives or girlfriend’s bred. They got off on enjoying the sloppy seconds. That was how my half-sister, Cheryl Albertson, was conceived.

I sank down on the bed, a ball of nervous energy. My futa-dick twitched and throbbed as I laid on my back. I stretched out on the bed, my legs parted wide. My pussy felt on display, my outer vulva parting to show off my hymen and inner folds. My futa-dick twitched and throbbed. My heart screamed beneath my breasts.

“I’m so ready,” I whimpered, listening to the sounds of the house.

Loud music thumped from beneath. Someone had put on Heather Delight. She had a fun voice that mixed with the beat. Her new single filled the house with such noise I couldn’t hear anything save for my screaming heart.

I squirmed, my futa-dick aching. It twitched and throbbed. A bead of precum ran over the tip and down the shaft. It made me squirm. My pussy clenched, the heat building and building in me. I was so excited for this.

So ready to have my cherry popped. I was eighteen now. An adult. I could have all the naughty fun I wanted.

“What’s taking so long,” I whimpered as the Heather Delights song neared its end. “I’m so ready and—”

My bedroom door creaked open.

I could feel the woman entering. She was quiet as she closed the door behind her. I didn’t hear her padding footsteps, but I could just sense her presence coming closer and closer. Maybe she was stirring up small currents of air I was feeling on my naked cock.

My pussy felt on display. My dick a piece of art to be admired. I clutched at the covers, squirming, the heat flowing faster out of my snatch. A wet spot formed beneath my rump. My heavy breathing pressed my nipples against the silk fabric, adding another bit of tingling delight to flow through me.

The woman was over me.

“Hello,” I said, wanting to rip off the mask.

The woman let out a throaty purr of pleasure.

I gasped as a pair of hot hands grasped my thighs right above my knees. They pushed my legs even wider apart. I pictured the woman kneeling now. I heard the soft caress of skin on skin. Maybe her thighs pressing together.

Then I heard her breathing. Heavy. Passionate. My toes curled as I whimpered. I heard a gasp bleeding through the walls and knew Rebecca was experiencing this same anticipatory delight. Hot breath caressed my shaved pussy folds. My dick twitched.

“Oh, my god!” I gasped as wet lips kissed my inner thigh an inch below where my leg met my groin. Silky hair brushed the lips of my excited pussy. “Who are you!”

The woman didn’t answer with words. She just kissed up my leg, coming closer and closer to my pussy. I trembled, my body quivering. My toes curled as she reached the edge of my vulva. She kissed an inch closer, almost touching my slit. My hands dug into the comforter. My futa-dick pulsed to my screaming heart beat.

Then her lips were on my pussy. This stranger licked at me. I had no idea who she was other than her tongue felt amazing. Not seeing enhanced what I felt. The mystery of who this was only excited me more and more. Her tongue was skilled. She’d eaten pussy before. She fluttered up and down my folds, brushing the base of my girl-dick.

Her hand engulfed my shaft. I whimpered as she stroked it. Pleasure shot down my cock to my pussy. My snatch clenched while her tongue bathed my folds. She fluttered against my hymen, letting out a purring moan.

“Yes, yes, you’re going to take my cherry, aren’t you?” I moaned, trembling on the bed. “Mmm, I just know it!”