The second girl was so young Tony was a little worried. Yes, she definitely had breasts, small and firm, and there was some curve to her hips; but her pubic triangle, stretched open because the girl's knees were hooked over the arms of the chair, was innocently smooth and hairless, diminutive labia opening reluctantly to reveal the demure, gentle pink of very narrow opening.
He leaned down. She smelled of bath oil, not cologne. Her smile was shy and nervous. Her eyes flicked to his erect penis, glistening with Mrs Henderson's vaginal juices and his own pre-ejaculate.
"Please cum in me, Tony Morrison," she said in a soft, but surprisingly rich and husky voice, something to make his hips pump hard and his semen spurt a fountain for her. But then, as her fingers took hold of his cock and placed the head between those tender pink lips, she begged him, sounding almost sex-starved or desperate, "I've turned off my contra, so I'm ovulating now, and I want to be inseminated today. Please," she entreated, "make me pregnant!"
This was NOT what he had been expecting! This strange plea might have marked her as the most memorable girl at his Emancipation party, but his cock was now much less keen. He thrust once, deep, his low-hanging balls slapping just above the delicate balloon knot of her tight little anus.
"I don't want to make somebody else. I want to make myself." Tony whispered, gently withdrawing his cock. He was thinking that was the best way to say he wasn't looking to impregnate anyone today, not just her.
"Dream a little before you think," she said cryptically, "I'll be here again if you can make it around the whole circuit!"