LongTimeLurker: New page: You pull of her tight jeans, running your hands over her smooth, cold, synthetic skin, the bountiful softness of her well-developed rump. She hops up on to the kitchen island, leaning back...

2015-09-27T16:23:21Z

New page: You pull of her tight jeans, running your hands over her smooth, cold, synthetic skin, the bountiful softness of her well-developed rump. She hops up on to the kitchen island, leaning back...

New page

You pull of her tight jeans, running your hands over her smooth, cold, synthetic skin, the bountiful softness of her well-developed rump. She hops up on to the kitchen island, leaning back and pulling up her sweater to expose her swollen bust, her creamy thighs parting with a tinny whir from her actuators.

She trembles as you enter her, components buzzing inside of her while she strains her body against yours. You bury yourself in her surprisingly warm sex, your hands working her soft, chilled breasts. Her appreciative moans are eclipsed by a clipped mechanical stutter, her hips ratcheting mechanically after your every thrust.

Suddenly, a voice calls out in disbelief from the kitchen doorway: “Mom?!”

You look over to see Amber standing there with an expression of shock on her pretty face.

“Am-b-ber!” the mom-bot says in shock, sitting bolt upright and clinging to you, her legs wrapped around your waist, obscuring at least the front half of her cold, naked body. “I… I…”

“How could you do this?” Amber asks, shaking her head. “You know how I felt about him!”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” the mom-bot replies, her voice pleading, “it’s just that it’s been ''so long ''!” With the last two words, she tightens her grip on you, her trembling legs squeezing you deeper into her.

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[[FYOP/Scenario Chamber/Girl Next Door/0052 | Amber, you’re the one I want!]]

[[FYOP/Scenario Chamber/Girl Next Door/0053 | Sorry Amber, your mom’s the one I want!]]

FYOP/Scenario Chamber/Girl Next Door/0049 - Revision history

LongTimeLurker: New page: You pull of her tight jeans, running your hands over her smooth, cold, synthetic skin, the bountiful softness of her well-developed rump. She hops up on to the kitchen island, leaning back...