by Reed James
The door opened, and I smiled when I saw Abby and Mike enter. “Abby!” I smiled, moving over to give her a warm hug.
“Wow, you two really buried the hatchet,” my ex-husband said.
“Yeah,” I shrugged. I buried my hatchet right into her juicy pussy.
“Okay, honey, I'll be back to pick you up in an hour,” Mike smiled, leaning down to kiss his wife.
“I love you,” she smiled when they broke their kiss.
“Love you, too, babe.” He gave her another peck, then walked out the door.
“So how was your honeymoon?” I asked her.
“Oh, you ruined it,” Abby sighed. “All I could think about was your futa cock fucking me.”
“Well, I think we can arrange for a repeat,” I told her with a grin, putting my arm around her shoulders.
Yurika came up on Abby's other side, putting her arm around the redhead's waist. I smiled at my fiancee. I had the life, marrying the woman I loved and getting to pleasure all these beautiful women that crave what only a futanari can give them.
Thank you Aphrodite for blessing me with my very own futa cock!
My Roommate's Futa Lover
Futanari Coeds 1
by
Reed James
My Roommate's Futa Lover
I was finally getting the hang of college after the first month. There was so much to adjust to: waking up on my own, getting to class on time, working on my homework, hot guys, and having a roommate for the first time ever. Not to say Shelley, my roommate, wasn't great. In fact, we had become as close as sisters, but there was some friction at first. Particularly, the night I had brought a guy back to our dorm to have a little romance. It had been so awkward when Shelley had walked in on us mid-doggy-style, the guy pulling my black hair and slapping my ass.
We had settled on hanging a sock or stocking on the door knob—the old college standby—to let each know if one of us was getting frisky.
I had used it a few times since. No with anyone serious, just having some fun with a hot guy. You know, playing the field and enjoying my Freshman year of college. But I had never thought Shelley would actually use the sock—she was a devout Baptist. So I was shocked to see a black stocking tied around the doorknob when I reached for it after class and heard a rather passionate moan coming through the door.
“Holy shit!” I gasped out loud.
“What, Britney?” Ashley, a Sophomore that lived two doors down, asked, stopping next to me.
“Shelley has a guy in there!”
“No way!” giggled redheaded Ashley. “Unless she's teaching him about the Lord.”
“Listen.”
Another amorous, feminine squeal came through the door and a muffled, “Oh, God!”
The Sophomore grinned. “Sounds like she found quite the stud to pray with!”
“Lucky,” I sighed. “Last guy I brought back was a dud.”
“Premature fire?”
“Big time. He caught me in the face when I pulled him out of his pants.”
Ashley patted my cheek. “Poor you. Don't date the frat guys anymore. They're all overcompensating for something.”
“Yeah, I'm learning that.” I glanced at the door and sighed. “Well, I guess I can get some work done out here.”
“Have fun,” Ashley smiled. “I gots to go. Later.”
“Bye.”
I walked over to a small lounge where two hallways met. It had a few vending machines and some comfy, if a little ragged, chairs. I plopped down on one, pulled out my laptop, put in my earbuds, and began working on my English paper, keeping an eye on my door. I hated writing with a laptop actually on my lap, even if that's what it was designed for. I preferred my desk. In my dorm.
Who was she with? What cute boy was getting into her panties? Was it serious, or just a fling? Knowing Shelley, she had probably found her soul mate, the man she no doubt was already planning their life after college, their wedding, and how many kids they would have.
When my dorm's door opened, I was startled by who walked out. Not a man, but a woman—Vivian.
I gaped at the beautiful Senior walking down the hall. She was tall and lithe, a pleased smile on her tan face, and her honey-brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She had a sway in her hips, covered in low-riding skinny jeans, and her breasts bounced beneath a loose top. She fixed her hazel eyes on me and they roamed my body with bold admiration, as aggressive as any guy.
A strange heat flushed through me. “H-hi, Vivian,” I stammered.
“Hello, Britney,” she answered.
Vivian was the floor monitor, and she had changed from the mousy girl with acne I had met a month ago into this sex bomb last week. She was a completely different person, totally confident in her looks and delighting in showing off her body. I don't know what type of moisturizer she was using, but her skin was flawless now. I don't know what switch had flipped inside her, but I was digging the new her.
“You are looking great today,” she smiled, her eyes roaming my entire body.
I preened at her compliment without thought, and realized that I was responding to her like she was a hunky guy. Why? I wasn't gay. I wasn't even bi-curious. But there was something about her that demanded my attention and set my nethers on fire. Well, maybe I was becoming a little bi-curious. It was college—the time to experiment and discover whom you were.
“Thanks,” I breathed, leaning back to let my round breasts mold against my V-necked shirt. “Um, you're looking good, too.”
She grinned and winked at me. “I'd give Shelley a few minutes. I wore her out.”
“Okay,” I blushed as her hazel eyes twinkled.
She strolled off, my eyes falling on her firm rear writhing beneath her tight jeans, a purple whaletail peaking out the back. I licked my lips and wondered what it would be like to be with a woman—with Vivian.
I had to dish with Shelley.
I gathered my things and rushed down the hallway, pulling out my keys while juggling my possessions. I fumbled, almost dropping my laptop, before I succeed in unlocking my door. I opened it, bursting in, excited to talk to my roommate. She was in the bathroom.
The room reeked of hot pussy, a sweet musk that assaulted my nose.
The shower hissed on. I grinned, I bet she needed to spritz off. Her bed was rumpled and I could see a big, wet spot staining her sheets. I guess one of them was a squirter. I crossed the room, setting my school supplies on my desk and threw open the windows. The room needed a thorough airing. Though the smell of hot pussy was tickling my fancy and that familiar itch returned; I pressed my thighs together. I wanted to have a nice jill and bury my face in that wet spot and—
Get a grip, Britney!
I flopped onto my bed, fighting the urge to jam my hands down my jeans and stroke my pussy until I had a nice cum. The itch beckoned, and my hand crept down my shirt to my pants, stroking my aching sex through the denim; a shudder passed through me.
Maybe if I was quick, I could cum before she finished.
I unsnapped my jeans, shoving my hand inside. My shaved pussy was already dewy and another shudder shot through me as I stroked and teased myself, wonderful heat blossoming throughout me. I squirmed as I plunged one finger into my liquid—
The bathroom door opened. I yanked my hand out of my jeans, my face crimson.
Shelley walked out of the showers naked and damp, a towel wrapped around her blonde hair. We were both comfortable being naked together, but now I was seeing her in a whole new light—the way Vivian must see her. Her large breasts heaved and jiggled, and my eyes appreciated the generous curves of her hips and rear. Her face was gorgeous, a cherubs, framed by golden hair and with a pair of pouty lips. Her skin was flawless and her legs were long and tone.
“Hi, Britney,” Shelley smiled, pulling on a pair of panties; I caught a momentary glimpse of her golden bush.
“Hey,” I said, flushing and hoping she wouldn't notice my fly was undone. She turned away to dig out a bra, and I quic
kly buttoned up my jeans. “So, you and Vivian, huh?”
She froze in the middle of putting on a bra, her cheeks turning red. “Yeah.”
“So, you're gay?” I tried to sound casual.
“No, not really.”
“But you just fucked Vivian?”
Her cheeks were still burning, but a happy smile creased her lips. “Yeah.”
“And?”
“And I have to get to church.”
“But you just fucked a woman! How can you still go to church?”
“What does that have to do with my religion?”
“I didn't know the Southern Baptist were down with lesbians.”
“I'm not gay, Britney. It's, well, complicated.”
I blinked. “Okay. But you don't have to lie to me. I don't care that you're gay or bi or whatever.”
“I'm straight, Britney. I like guys.”
“But you fucked Vivian.”
“Like I said, it's complicated.”
“Well, try me. How was it?”
“Intense.” Her smile grew. “She made love to me like no man ever has.”
“I thought you only had one guy.”
“I may have hooked up two weeks ago.” Her flush was deeper and she looked down with embarrassment. “It was a mistake.”
“Wow,” I whispered, then my curiosity grew. “So what's so different about being with a woman than a guy.”
“It was kinda the same, just more intense.” She pulled on a pair of jeans, not skinny jeans like Vivian, but mom jeans that didn't show off her curves that much.
“Come on, dish. How'd you two even hook up?”
She grabbed a loose top. “I was looking for some advice and we just...ended up in bed yesterday.”
“Ooh, you've done it twice.”
“Three times.” She grabbed her purse. “Vivian is...special.”
“You sound like you're in love.”
“Maybe.”
“But you're not gay?”
She sighed. “It's complicated. I got to go, okay.”
“All right,” I sighed.
She walked out the door; my hands unbuttoned my jeans and shot in them in record time. My fingers pumped into my pussy, my eyes squeezing shut. I imagined the pair together, Shelley lay naked on her bed, trembling, and Vivian loomed over her, full of confidence, spreading her legs and diving into her pussy, licking her until she came and left that big wet spot on her sheets.
“Oh, yes!” I gasped, my orgasm nearing. With my other hand, I began stroking my clitoris, my back arching as bliss tumbled through me.
And then it wasn't Shelley getting licked in my fantasy—it was me. Vivian was between my thighs, stroking my shaved pussy, then burying her tongue into me, licking all the wonderful places inside my pussy. I gasped and convulsed, cumming hard.
“Eat me, Vivian!”
One, last shudder passed through me, then I collapsed on my pillows. I pulled my fingers out, enjoying that happy glow I had after a nice jill, and brought my sticky digits to my lips. I had never tasted my pussy before, but now I had to satisfy my curiosity. I sucked my fingers into my lips, scared that I would hate it. I loved it, savoring the wonderful, tart flavor. Would Vivian's pussy taste like this?
I had to find out.
Shelley was walking on cloud nine for the next week. She and Vivian seemed to be going at it like rabbits, and I found the stocking tied about the door knob most afternoons. The room always reeked of their musk, and that heady scent made my pussy itch to find out just what Vivian had done to Shelley to put those big smiles on her face. But my roommate resisted any of my questions, always saying, “It's complicated.”
My lusts were boiling over, but none of the hot guys on campus seemed to cut it any longer. I wanted to get the same loving as Shelley. I wanted Vivian, even if I was poaching my roommates lover from behind her back.
It was Saturday and I was cramming for a test on Monday, my head beginning to pound and my eyes growing tired as I poured over my notes. Why did I ever take Philosophy? What had possessed me to want to get an English Major? I was glad that Shelley was out, I needed the peace and quiet. I think she was studying at the library, or maybe the little minx was fooling around with Vivian again.
My pussy started to itch, picturing them sixty-nining, devouring each other's cunt's like they were eating the finest meals, their arms wrapped around each other, hips humping, mouths moaning, bodies quavering. My hand crept down to my lap.
“Stop that,” I hissed, tearing my hand away. “I need to study. Bad pussy! I'll play with you later.”
I tried to read the paragraph again. Heaving breasts, sucking lips, juicy pussy. Dammit! I need to concentrate!
A light rap echoed on my door.
“Now what,” I growled.
I pushed back from my desk and wandered over to the door, prepared to chew out whomever was disturbing me. I needed to do well on this test. So I had to learn everything I could about the Enlightenment Movement and their influence on modern laws and morality.
I yanked the door open, prepare to deliver a tongue lashing. I almost choked.
“Hi, Britney. Is Shelley around?”
My cheeks went beat red. Gorgeous, perfect Vivian stood at my door wearing the cutest, pink top that hugged her round breasts like a lover's hands, her hard nipples peaking through the fabric—she clearly wasn't wearing a bra.
Shit! I'm a mess, wearing a pair of sweats and a loose T-shirt—comfort clothing. My black hair must be an awful wreck. I hadn't left the dorm all morning. I wasn't even wearing any makeup. Oh, no, Vivian's going to think I'm a complete slob.
“So, is Shelley here?” Vivian asked, an amused smile on her face. “Earth to Britney?”
“Um, no,” I said, shaking my head. “She's at the library, I think.”
“No. I just checked. And she's not answering her phone.” A hint of panic entered Vivian's voice.
“She probably forgot her charger and her phone died,” I told her, patting her on the shoulder. “She does it all the time.”
“Oh, okay.” Vivian stirred. “Um, do you mind if I wait in here. I really need to see her.” She shifted her wait, dancing on the balls of her feet like she had some great itch or needed to pee really bad. Her cheeks were flushed and I smiled—she was horny for her lover.
This was my chance.
“Yes, come in,” I smiled at her. “You're Shelley's girlfriend. Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” she smiled; my heart beat faster.
I was going to do this. I was going to seduce my roommate's lover. My stomach felt like it was twisted in knots, but my pussy had turned into liquid warmth. My curiosity had to be satiated. I had to know how amazing the sex was to turn my uptight, religious roommate gay.
But first I had to do something about my appearance.
“I'm going to take a shower,” I smiled at her. “Hope you don't think I'm being rude, but I have a hot date tonight.”
“Oh, no,” Vivian nodded, sitting on Shelley's bed, folding her legs up and sitting cross legged. My eyes fell on her tight jeans hugging her flesh, digging into her vulva and forming a hot cameltoe. “So, who's your date with?”
“It's a secret,” I giggled, walking to my bathroom. “If you're good, maybe I'll tell you.”
“Oh, okay,” she shrugged.
I ripped off my baggy clothing, starting up the shower. I impatiently shoved my hand beneath the water, waiting for it to heat up. “Come on,” I hissed. I only had so much time. Shelley could return, and I wanted to have done the deed before she returned.
Finally, the water warmed up and I leaped in, grabbing my loofah and body wash, soaping my round breasts, my nipples tingling, and perky butt. I dunked my black hair beneath the spray, lathered up with my apricot-scented shampoo and conditioner. And then I grabbed my razor. I was a little stubbly and I wanted to be perfect. I deftly shaved my legs, learning to do it while standing in the shower was a skill I had quickly mastered, then I carefully sh
aved my pubic mound and vulva, making sure I was smooth as silk.
Was Vivian shaved? What must it be like to lick a pussy covered in hair. Would it tickle my face. The water was suddenly cold, snapping me out of my reverie. I needed to be quick. I couldn't blow this golden opportunity. I turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and wiped off my skin. Then I wrapped a fresh towel around my wet hair, and stepped out of the bathroom naked, crossing the room to my closet.
“Oh, um, hi,” Vivian gasped. “I'm still here.”
“I know,” I smiled at her over my shoulder. “I hope you don't mind. Just us girl's here.”
“Uh, no, I don't mind.” Her voice sounded like liquid sex. She could bottle that sound and make millions.
As I stood before my closet, I could feel her eyes on my ass. Feeling very naughty, I bent over, my legs slightly spread, and gave her a good view of my shaved pussy between my thighs; Vivian groaned.
“Do you mind if I ask your opinion,” I said, turning around and facing her, my breasts jiggling.
“Sure.” She licked her lips then smiled.
“Am I pretty?”
“Uh-huh.” Her hand reached out, grabbing one of Shelley's pillows and pulling it onto her lap, hugging it to her. And maybe pressing it against her itching pussy, getting some relief. A pleased smile split my lips.
“You're not just saying that?”
“No, Britney. Trust me. You are stunning.”
I took a few steps towards her, squeezing my right breast. “And my tits aren't too small?”
“There's no such thing as that. Believe me. They're all beautiful.”
“But mine are smaller than Shelley's. And you must really love hers.”
“I love everything about her,” Vivian purred. “She's amazing.”
I took another step, reaching Shelley's bed.
“And what about shaved pussies?” I asked her, dragging my finger down my taught stomach to my bare pubic mound, idly tracing a circle above my aching clit. “As someone that loves pussy, which do you prefer.”
“I'm partial to a landing strip,” she answered. “Best of both worlds.”
I traced my finger down the imaginary line of a landing strip, ending at my clitoris. “I bet it just draws your eyes right to what your mouth is hungry for, right?”