by Ella Ford
I shot a resentful glance at the desk calendar on the coffee table in front of where I curled on the sofa. Each previous day in March contained an angry red cross, each cross representing one full day with no satisfaction. I knew that if I flicked back through the months, I’d need to get to November last year before the streak of crosses stopped and normality resumed. I sighed to myself, drawing my knees up to my body and squeezing my legs together in an attempt to quiet the gentle throb from between them.
November 23rd. The date I finally kicked that loser Jared to the curb. November the 23rd. The last time I’d had sex.
I should point out that the last four months were not entirely devoid of male attention. As my BFFs go to great lengths to point out, I am unquestionably a “hottie”. Nature blessed me with naturally long and slender legs, a firm ass and tits that make men take up religions. Top it off with long blonde hair and luscious red lips and I can safely say that marketing myself is not my problem. I just needed some time to cool off, you know? The thing with Jared was so intense and so damaging that I needed to take my foot of the pedal and coast for a while, not get involved, rediscover myself through solitude. All that hippy-dippy self-help stuff that the snake oil salesmen on late night TV will sell you for only $19.99 plus postage.
Bullshit. What I really needed, as I was increasingly coming to realise, was some good, hard cock and plenty of it. You know what I’m talking about, ladies? The kind of throbbing length that makes you double take when you see it and question your own capacity. The kind of meaty girth that fills you so far that you begin to believe you can feel its swollen tip banging against your lungs as it pounds into you over and over and over....
Oh God. I realised that I was getting horny again and decided there and then that this barren streak had to come to an end. I resolved in my mind that it was time for Jessica Dalton to get fucked, and soon. I pulled open my laptop and fired up the web browser, hoping to find some filthy porn to take care of the immediate crisis. After that, I intended to shower and change, then call up some friends and head downtown with a singular intent: get me a cock.
I made a cyber-beeline for the seediest part of the net that I knew about and started looking for a likely video. Something to light my fires with debauchery and perversion. Scrolling quickly, I flicked past endless movies with various flavors and tantalizing titles: “Bukake Sorority”, “Six Man Prison Gang Bang”, “Her Ass, My Mouth”. All compelling, to be sure, but not the thrill I was looking for.
Suddenly, an advert on the page caught my eye. It was different to the rest - darker, classier. It didn’t flash or pulsate or offer me “horny milfs in your area” like the others. Instead, it had neon pink writing on a black background and simply said:
Futa-lube - Makes wishes come true - Order your free sample now!
I stared at the advertisement, not entirely sure what was so compelling about it. Something about the lettering and the simplicity, an island of tranquility on a sea of frantic attempts to grab your attention. My eye was automatically drawn there, taking refuge from the relentless energy of the rest of the page.
Against my own better judgement, I clicked on the ad and was taken off to a simple order form that invited me to provide my details for the promised free sample. I paused, aware that this was probably a scam, that I would likely be handing my address over to Russian slavers who would sell my body into sexual servitude for potatoes or vodka or something. Oh God, even that thought made me horny!
I reasoned that with me being officially back in the game, I would need some lube to keep the ole pistons cranking, if you take my meaning? And free was, after all, free. Without a single further thought, I typed out my details and hit submit. The page thanked me kindly, refreshed and dumped me right back into the world of Anal Creampie and Hotwife Cuckold. I frowned, my appetite for internet porn suddenly gone. I decided to get ready to go out instead and worry about my hungry pussy later.
---
Ninety minutes later and I was ready to hit the town. I’d speed-dialled the girls, notified them that the long streak was at an end and that I wanted to go out to celebrate. We’d agreed to meet up at Carlucci’s, a swanky wine bar downtown where the clientele consisted mostly of young, city types with cash-to-splash and a roving eye. If I couldn’t find a cooperative cock to fill my needs at Carlucci’s, then I might as well turn in my vagina and tits, and take early retirement!
I intended for my return to the World of Fuck to be quite the talking point, and had gone all out to deploy my biggest guns. I’d wriggled my tightest LBD over my hips and tits and marvelled at the slinky temptress that stood reflected before me in the bedroom's full length mirror. My legs were epic, endlessly long, a perfect mix of tone and tan. My calves was pulled taught by the shiny black Jimmy Choo pumps that cost me a month’s wages and were my prized possession. Finally, my hair tumbled over my shoulders like a golden waterfall and fell in lazy curls down my back and over the flawless skin of my exposed chest. Not bad Jess, I thought to myself, zero to hero in ninety minutes!
I was interrupted from my self-admiration by the ding-dong of my apartment doorbell. I wondered who it could be at this time on a Saturday night, and why they didn’t use the block intercom to get buzzed in. It’ll be Mrs Gunderson from next door, I reasoned, probably needs her computer rebooting. Mrs G. was a sweet old dear, but useless with the laptop that her son had given her to Skype with. I had to drop into to her apartment every few weeks to help her out with one problem or another. As if I was any good at tech support myself!
With one final look at myself in the mirror, I hurried into the hall and to the door. Ever the cautious city dweller, I stood on my tip toes and peered through the spy hole out into the hall to see who it was. Nobody was there. I wondered if I’d spent too long preening myself and missed whoever had rang the bell. I shrugged and turned back away from the door. As I was about to go back into my bedroom, the doorbell rang again. Ding dong.
This time, I scampered down the hall as fast as I dared on my heels. I skidded to a stop before the door and, once again, looked through the spy hole. Nobody!
I started to suspect that this was a hilarious prank by the Franklin twins from the third floor. I’d likely open the door and find them hiding around the corner. They probably wanted to lure me out to check out my tits or something. Little perverts!
Grabbing the door, I pulled it open and leaned forward quickly. Twisting my head left and right to scan the hallway, I was surprised to find that it was empty. No kids, no anybody!
I was about to head back inside, when something on the floor caught my eye. It was a black cardboard box, about five inches square and tied shut with a silky pink ribbon. There was a card pushed under the ribbon and I crouched down to examine it. It was the same black color as the box, with pink writing.
Jessica Dalton, enjoy your free sample! The Futanari Corporation
I gingerly picked up the box and rotated it in my hands. It wasn’t heavy, and nothing appeared to be loose inside it. I shrugged and took the box inside, closing the door behind me.
---
Placing the box on the coffee table, I sat down on the couch and stared at it. I’m blonde, but I’m not a dumb blonde and had made the connection with the Futa-lube advertisement that I’d responded to on the web. But how could this be from them? How could they have delivered to my apartment in ninety minutes flat at 8pm on a Saturday night? Was there a new Futa-lube factory just around the corner from me?
Gingerly, I pulled at the ribbon and it slithered off the box as the bow unravelled. I lifted the lid with the same care that you might lavish on disarming thirty pounds of semtex. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find within, and still thought it might be some elaborate joke by those degenerate kids from downstairs.
Inside the box was a pink velvet cushion and resting on the cushion was a plastic tube. The tube, I assumed, contained the mysterious Futa-lube and was jet black with a stylised depiction of a cock and balls printed on the fron
t. In neon pink of course. There were no further words on the front, just that peculiar cartoon penis. I reached in and picked up the tube, rolling it around in my hands. The back had more information - though not the usual ingredients lists or disclaimers about hair loss or chemical burns. This particular lube tube had a poem! I’m not kidding. Several lines of pink script and nothing else. Here’s what it said:
Spread me on your fingers two,
And rub me in your pussy do.
Make a wish and close your eyes,
Prepare yourself for a big surprise.
Three times only may you try,
Then the lube will now be dry.
I frowned, the clumsy verse challenging even my limited appreciation of poetry.
Suddenly, I had a wicked idea. I had the lube, I had a spare half an hour before I had to leave for Carlucci’s and I hadn’t bothered to take care of my aching pussy earlier. It seemed like the perfect opportunity! And hey, the lube was in such an appealing package, it seemed a shame not to try it out.
Sitting back in the sofa, I wriggled my tight dress up my thighs and touched my pussy through the black lace of my panties. I was warm down there, but not quite aroused enough to make this a quick job. Grabbing the tube of Futa-lube, I squirted a small dollop onto my fingers. It smelled slightly chemically, but not at all unpleasant. With my thumb, I rubbed it into my finger tips to warm them up, then pushed aside my panties and plunged my lubed fingers into my pussy lips.
Oh boy, it felt fantastic! My slippery fingers slid between my pink folds with practiced precision, squeezing the nub of my clit between them as they moved, gently at first, but quickening in pace. The lube spread to every part of me and caused a slight tingling sensation as my fingers massaged it into my pussy. I figured it was maybe laced with menthol or something, because it felt strangely pleasant. I shut my eyes and let my hand do the work. Faster and faster my fingers moved, fingertips pressing my clit as they moved in tight swirls that caused waves of pleasure to ripple through my body to the ends of my toes. Oh God this felt good. I hunched my shoulders and pushed my head back into the couch. Oh God, I thought, lost in my pleasure, I wish I had a hard cock to fill me right now!
Suddenly, the lights in the apartment dimmed and there was a loud cracking sound! I pulled my hand from between my legs and jumped back on the sofa, pulling my knees up to my body in fright. I swore to myself, cursing the shitty electrics in this old apartment block and relaxed a little after my initial scare. Then I caught sight of something odd.
Beside me on the sofa was a large, pink dildo. I stared at it, unable to believe what I was seeing. The dildo definitely hadn’t been there before. I knew where all my dildos were, thank you very much, and I definitely didn’t keep them on the sofa for everyone to see! Besides, this one was a little larger than I was used to, measuring around nine inches from base to bulbous tip. It was fleshy and moulded, resembling a large cock with eerie accuracy. I picked it up and rolled it in my hands. Where could it have come from? None of my friends had been here in weeks, so it couldn’t have been left by them. And I’d been sitting on the couch for most of the night, surely I’d have noticed it?
I was baffled, completely at a loss to explain this strange appearance. I set the dildo down on the coffee table next to the Futa-lube and sat back, pondering the two peculiar arrivals. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of the tortured verse on the black and pink lube tube and two lines caught my eye.
Make a wish and close your eyes,
Prepare yourself for a big surprise.
Didn’t I wish for a “hard cock to fill me” just now? My mind was pretty much lost in the moment, but I’m sure that I remember the sentiment. And didn’t the dildo appear just after this? No, surely, it couldn’t be… Had I wished the dildo into existence with magic lube? Now that’s a sentence I never thought I’d ever write!
I picked up the lube again and studied it for a clue, but there was nothing else on the tube other than the cartoon penis and the terrible poetry. There was only one way to settle this, I thought, science!
The last time, the wish had been interpreted too literally. I had to be more careful with my phrasing for the next one. If there’s one thing I knew, it’s that magic wishes were tricky things and you had to make sure you asked for exactly what you wanted. See? I learned something from Saturday morning cartoons!
I relaxed back into the couch and squirted another smear of lube onto my fingers. Once again, I pushed aside my panties and plunged my fingers between my legs. Within moments, I was breathing heavily and rubbing hard on my clitoris. I felt a flush rising from my chest and up my neck. With my free hand, I kneaded my breasts, the motion of my hands working in perfect synchronization, igniting a fire within me that burned with a lustful intensity. I felt myself slipping away, becoming lost in the relentless rhythm of my skilfull fingers. I moaned and prepared to release myself to my building climax, then caught myself, remembering the purpose of the experiment. I squeezed my eyes shut as my fingers worked, and struggled to focus my mind. I wish, I thought, concentrating on forming the request coherently, that there was a real person with a real cock here to pleasure me!
Once again, the lights in the apartment dimmed and there was a crack, much louder than before. I jumped backwards to the end of the sofa and curled into a ball, fearful that the ceiling was about fall on me. After a few seconds, I dared to open my eyes. Blinking, I scanned the room, but nothing had appeared. There was nothing on the sofa beside me where the dildo had appeared. I began to think I was going crazy and scolded myself for my fertile imagination and guileless credulity.
“Behind you!”
The voice spoke from behind the sofa, beside the door to the kitchen. I spun around, without even thinking. Standing in the doorway was a young woman, about my age and very attractive. She was dressed in a short black silk robe and little else. With one arm against the door jamb, she grinned at me suggestively.
Yet, for all the strangeness of her sudden appearance, there was one thing that caught my eye and held my attention the most. Hanging between her legs, poking out from under the short hem of the black robe and swinging there without a care in the world, was the tip of a perfectly normal looking penis.
Chapter 2 - Second Wish
I pulled a cushion close to my body and struggled for something to say. “Wh-who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?” I finally managed to stutter.
The girl looked puzzled, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she thought. “Well… you summoned me,” she said. Her voice had no trace of an accent, her pronunciation of English was perfectly crisp and precise.
I considered this for a second, remembering the magic lube for the first time since the girl had appeared. I studied the girl who stood before me. This wasn’t right, I hadn’t wished for a girl. I’m not a lesbian and haven’t even so much as kissed another girl before in my life! Okay, that’s not quite true. There was that one time with my friend Kimberly, but we were drunk and that doesn’t count okay?
“I-I didn’t summon you! I summoned a man!” I spat indignantly, as though I was complaining about an incorrect pizza order.
The girl cocked her head to the side and looked at me quizzically. “I’m not sure that’s true Jessica.” She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a small notepad and thumbed through the pages, each of which was covered in writing. “Ah, here it is!” she exclaimed, pointing to a page in the notepad. “Blah blah blah real person with a real cock to pleasure me.”
I swore inwardly, cursing my sloppy phrasing.
The girl spoke again, “Well, I’m a real person, I have a real cock,” she swung open her robe to reveal her cock in all its glory, “and I’m here to pleasure you.” She leaned against the door jamb suggestively and nibbled on her index finger with a look of perfect innocence. “Now, where do you want me?”
I didn’t hear what she was saying at first, I was too fixated on the meat that hung between her legs. I couldn’t take my eyes of
f it! To all intents and purposes, the girl appeared to be a perfectly normal female human. She had jet black hair and a delicate, feminine face. She appeared to be slightly younger than me, in her early twenties perhaps, with the soft skin of her youth still evident. Her tits were larger than average and hung perfectly from her chest, with cute pink nipples that protruded from her like two hard nubs. She had a toned stomach and long, smooth legs that were uncovered. She wore no shoes and her fingernails and toenails were both painted the same provocative red. What I’m trying to get across here is that she didn’t look like a man. She didn’t even look like a convincing transvestite. She wasn’t a chick-with-a-dick, she was just a chick, with a dick. The girl who stood feet away from me appeared to be a perfectly normal girl.
All, that is, except for the monstrous cock that hung between her legs.
It was positioned where the top of her labia would normally have been and hung down like it would on a man. I noticed that she was circumcised, and that the cock was approximately five inches and flaccid. She had no hair above the penis, nor balls beneath it. It didn’t appear to have been surgically grafted on. It just appeared to be her penis, no matter how strange that sounds.
She smiled at me and winked, “Do you like it?” she asked, and reached down to grip the cock in her slender fingers.
I nodded mutely, unsure of what to say in this situation. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, and let me tell you, I ain’t no shrinking violet when it comes to kinky exploration!
She returned her index finger to her lips and lowered her head sheepishly. “Would you like to… touch it?” she said, knowing full well that I would.
I nodded my enthusiasm and she wandered over to the sofa. I had so many questions, I didn’t know where to start. But all I could really concentrate on was the sight of the cock and the thought of it filling my wet pussy.