Futa Dicksicle Stand

$9.99 $0.69

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Futa Dicksicle Stand

$9.99 $0.69

Short Description:

Carly convinces me that I need to do something to beat the heat. I assume it’s another one of her little gimmicks, but in fact the excursion turns out to be way more intense than I bargained for as she introduces me to the Futa Dicksicle Stand. I hope you like cocks on ice, tittie-creamsicles, and strawberries and jizz.

futa-on-lesbian, menage, milking

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Description

FutaDicksicleStand-Header3The heat came out of nowhere up the eastern corridor and grabbed New York City by the throat. Hot humid air hung oppressively. All I wanted was relief from this heat. My body was changing and I was feeling more and more uncomfortable, like I was trapped in myself. My soul no longer fit smoothly in the crude matter they called my body. My face had puffed up, my breasts pumped full, my belly stuck out, and my hips widened. My body was squirreling away fat. We were happy but I was depressed about my body. I just didn’t look good overweight.

“I just need something really cold. I can’t get cool. Last week I was cold all week. My hormones are going haywire. This must be what menopause is like,” I said.

“I have a cure for whenever I feel that way. Let me take you to the Futa dicksicle stand on Utrech Ave.,” Carly said.

“The Hubba-what?”

“The Futa dicksicle stand. It’s ice cold dick served up fresh and Futa. You’ll love it. It’ll set those hormones right. Trust me. I went there once a week when I was pregnant.”

“How do you find this stuff,” I said.

Climbing into Carly’s white Volkswagen Cabriolet, we drove down under the old elevated trains. Something about the words dicksicle and Futa had my heartrate up a tick. They were such naughty little words… Futa… dicksicle. So depraved. All I did these days was mother my son and act as a cook for my husband, who was becoming wildly successful and developing some kind of gastrointestinal disorder. I could use a good cold dick. Knowing Carly, it would just be one of her silly pranks like the BBC birthday cake she gave me last year. The girls had a ball eating it up and laughing. This would probably be some kind of dildo-shaped gelato on a stick—all gluten free so the granola moms could stay organic while sucking some sugary ice cold cock.

The stand Carly drove us to was heavily decorated with pop art that stood out against the cloudless blue sky and dingy area. This was an old bad area that was once an Italian immigrant ghetto. Now it was up for grabs by immigrants of all kinds. It was nothing like the pristine downtown. The row houses were old and on the main avenue with the elevated train there were many shops in various stages of disrepair. Dollar stores, flat fixers, and off tracking betting crowded the street.

The weather was sultry. It was sticky hot, and it made me feel sexy as I walked to the stand—never mind I was several months pregnant and Carly was still in her yoga pants. We were a pair to feast your eyes on. Her booty swayed as she walked across the parking lot to the stand. I wore a white and blue maternity dress like a sexy Greek sailor. My breasts were fuller than ever, and my curves shouted. I had the glow.

The pavement radiated the sun. It had to be ten degrees hotter in this parking lot.

The place looked like an old bank, or drugstore, or donut shop that had been converted. Like much of this area, whatever it was left. Now it was just a food truck with an open sliding window and a counter that folded down and was held up my little tight-linked chains on either side.

As we walked to the counter, we could see there were five beautiful women with incredible curves sitting inside with trays in front of them. Looking at them was kind of like spying the Korean Geishas sitting in the windows in red light like they were meat at the butcher store. Part of me didn’t want to look and break the sacred covenant of their privacy, but another part of me was drawn to them. I couldn’t resist looking. There was something magnetic about each lady. Upon closer inspection, I could see what it was. Each tray held a thick veiny cock attached to an equally big nutsack sprouting from between their legs. Each had her package all covered in different frozen goodies. These women real-life breathing Futas!

This was no BBC Birthday Cake. Carly had taken me to see the real thing. This wasn’t a prank at all.

I nearly lost my breath. I had always enjoyed reading about Futas in Amazon porn or the manga section of the local comic book shop, but I had never even considered they were real. And if they were real, I certainly never thought that they were in New York City running a cold dicksicle shop under the F train in this grimy area.

One of the women was at the counter lounging lazily against the wall of the food truck. “What can I get you hella fine ladies?” she asked.

As I looked around for my choices, I noticed a chalkboard menu at the far side of the gravel parking lot where a gorgeous Asian Futa on pink glittery roller skates was bent over writing flavor names on it. It was like Heather from Smutpunk on Skates had jumped out of a book and skated onto this parking lot. This Asian Futa wrote:

Dicksicles:

Futaliciously Fruity
Berry Deep Double-Dipped Chocolate Strawberry
Spunkadelic
Price: $Dick.69

“What’s dollar dick sixty-nine?” I asked the Futa, though I felt my knees go a bit weak and considered not asking. Would it make me look stupid? The cashier smacked her lips then made the universal sign for a blowjob with her hand cupped in front of her mouth and her tongue pressed into her cheek, jerking her hand back and forth in a rhythm. I still felt dumb but had to keep asking, “Wait. You pay in sex?”

“Wow, you’re quick, honey,” she said as she turned around to the other Futas with their dicks on ice. I realized one was covered in strawberries and cream, another in strawberries and chocolate, and yet another with all kinds of tropical fruits.

“So, the dicks are the menu and the sucking is the payment!” I said to the Futa and to Carly. “Can you believe this place?” I asked, kind of speaking to myself.

Carly looked at me and winked. “I told you this is what you needed.”

I smiled. My heart was not quite racing, but nor was it beating in its regular slow rhythm any longer. These Futas were hot. The whole scene was a crazy exaggeration of sex and I felt myself getting wet. The limitlessness of their sexuality was what really turned me on.

My white and blue maternity skirt suddenly caught in a strong wind and revealed my bikini cut panties. The breeze blew deliciously onto my bare ass cheeks and felt great on my hot little snatch tucked neatly inside my underwear.
The Futa cashier watched my skirt blow up and said, “Whooooeeeeee, mama!”

I blushed sixty-nine shades redder than Fifty Shades ever could unless she was fifty shades of Futa. That’s one hundred and nineteen shades total, if you’re counting. Then I felt my dress getting tighter around my bust. My breasts were further filling with milk and getting bigger.

“Mama,”—apparently that was the Futa cashier’s nickname for me—“YOU can go on a special payment plan. Mmmnn hmmmnnn. Yes, you can, mama. ‘Cause I haven’t seen me some big juicy titties like your milky funbags since Audio Two in the 1980s. You have what I need, and I need to have it, mama. I need it. If you give us some milk to make our strawberries and cream dicksicle, then you can have the whole lot on the house. Free of charge. Gratis, mama!”

The other Futas with their junk on ice laughed as she spoke. “What’s Audio Two?”

“A hip-hop due comprised of Milk D and Gizmo.”

“Ah.” I thought for a moment. “I couldn’t…I can’t take anything for free and—”

“—Don’t worry, mama. We’re Futas. When we say free, we mean to make you work hard and dirty for it. We’re the five horny Futas of the Futa dicksicle stand.”

Carly slapped me on the ass. “Come on, Leanne, go for it!”

Feeling Carly’s slap was a great pep talk. I had wanted to just come here and cool down, but now I was all hot and bothered and wanted release. “Fuck it,” I exclaimed. Now my heart was racing.

They took me into the back of the truck, and I was surrounded by five Futas in five flavors. “Uh uh uh,” the cashier reprimanded me playfully in a childishly sing-song voice that says no. “You get the fun after you give the milk.”

With that, she pulled down on a lever and two tubes with suction cups fell like oxygen masks from a crashing plane. But this was no plane crash. This was a Futa sex fest!

“Oh, mama, you want me to take those titties out for you?” the Futa cashier asked.

I unzipped my dress a bit then reached in and pulled out each heavy milk-filled breast. They felt different. The skin of my tits had stretched like balloons and felt as smooth as if injected with Botox. It was a wonderful feeling, like a baby’s bare ass. There was something so magical about pregnancy.

“Mama, you have the glow,” said the Futa cashier. “Doesn’t she?”

“She’s always been gorgeous,” Carly chimed in, “but lately she just radiates.”

“Agreed,” mumbled the other Futas.

“Somehow Futas and pregnant women both glow with an extra jolt of sexuality, you know?”

“That’s right, Mama. Both have the sex lightning shooting through the system. What we like to call the smutpunk.”

“The smutpunk?” Carly repeated. The word itself radiated sex lightning.

I felt great with my big milky tits out. Then the tubes suctioned onto my nipples. I winced in pain. My nipples were so sensitive. They were bigger. Instead of the little pink nubs like candy dots on paper they were big and meaty like sausages. Although the suctioning hurt my body started to acclimate to the sensation.

“Relax, mama,” the cashier said as she rubbed my back gently. “Now, now, it’s not painful. Just feels a bit weird and first.”

The tubes shimmied, and then they started pumping. They pumped and pumped, and my nipples felt a bit overstimulated—on the verge of being ticklish but not painful. Actually, it felt good as it went on, and the cashier’s hand felt calming on my back. It was so warm, almost burning up. I relaxed and closed my eyes. Then I heard Carly’s voice. “It’s coming out. Look how white it is!” She was delighted, and the Futas started to clap. I was beaming. I was horny and proud. It was a wonderful experience. There was no longer any pain associated with the pumping.

When I opened my eyes, I followed the milk out of my big nipples, through the pumps, and into tubes leading into a metal machine that led to more tubes. I saw the milk come out a new one and travel into an ice pan filled with a big Futa dick and thinly sliced strawberries. “Roxy, after mama here eats, add strawberries and breast creamsicle to the menu, okay?”

A swell of pride rose inside me. The Futas were using my breastmilk to make a creamsicle. “What an honor,” I said.

“Of course,” Roxy replied. Then she screamed out to the Asian Futa in pink glittery roller-skates, “Heather, add Strawberries and Breastmilk Creamsicle to the board, please. Okay, gorgeous?”

Eung.” she said affirmatively in her sexy Asian Futa way.

“The honor is all ours, Mama,” said the cashier Futa. “We’ve been hankering for some breastmilk creamsicles for the longest time.”

“Your hand feels so good on my back. So warm,” I said.

The cashier laughed hard. “That ain’t my hand, mama.”

I turned around and sure enough it was a massive Futa cock massaging my spine warmly. It felt wonderful, and I was very aroused. There were all these big cocks around me. The Futas were all horny too. I could feel the magnetism in the room. I was the magnet, and I was attracting all these dicks to me.

“Well, that about does it,” the cashier said. She disconnected the breast pump from me and motioned for me to kneel. Three of the Futas stood up and dangled their cold dicksicles in my face. There was Futaliciously Fruity, Berry Deep Double-Dipped Chocolate Strawberry, and now Strawberries and Breast Creamsicle in front of me.

A tinge of doubt crossed my mind but the uneasiness was quickly washed away by the futalicious smutpunk sensation trapped in the back of this truck where I kneeled. Sex was pulsing in the air. You could smell it. You could feel it on your skin. You could hear it frying like an egg. If you walked into the back of this truck, you would be kneeling in no time—sucking Futa dick.

 

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