1948 – The Futa Boxing Gym
By Moctezuma “The” Johnson
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Blog Header Art – “Yukio” by Almeidap (used with permission)
Minae’s marriage has descended into blah as her husband won’t dominate her as she wishes.
Ines has been conquered by Keiko in the Futa Boxing Gym and assumes a new role as prostitute by night and boxer/trainer by day in the most famous gym in the world but she wants more.
Ines wants to be the Queen of the Gym, the status she grew accustomed to in her native Caracas. Was she a big fish in a small pond or will the magic futa jump rope endow her with all she needs to be one of the best ever? Minae wants to become a sub to a dominant partner. She cooks up the crazy idea to visit the Futa Boxing Gym in Japan and become the dominant partner she wishes her husband to be. She visits the gym and all seems to be the perfect dream. She gets on the magic jump rope to become the Futa Lover of her dreams but for some reason the rope doesn’t change her. Ines and Keiko realize that the rope has become frayed. It’s power is seeping out.
They go on a quest into the sacred mountains where the magic jump rope was originally dropped from a scrotum rain shower in 1948. This incredible event may happen again if the ‘girls’ can convince the keepers of the futa rope, the three Kis, to perform their magic ritual again. If they fail, futa will be dead on planet Earth and Minae’s marriage will be in tatters like the rope itself.
The three Kis and the powers of Futanaria are not going to make restoring the rope an easy task. In fact, the ‘girls’ find that only two out of three Kis are even alive still in 2017. The other two are stubborn old men. The only thing that may make them risk their hide are big bouncing bimbo tits, ass, and futa cock. See if the ‘girls’ have what it takes to save the Magic Futa Jump Rope.
Excerpt – 1948
It was a cult – 1948, Japan
They found a fallen piece of scrotum sack that fell from the sky during World War II, and now they were in the mountains where the sacred energy was chanting, trying to summon the power. They were chanting in Korean.
One of the three Kis—Ki-moon, Ki-bum, and Ki-seok—started to speak in voices. Then it became clear, fluent Korean: “Build a Gym Here, and FUTA will come.”
At that point, scrotums rained down on them. Sack after fleshy sack pelted them in the nose, hung from the ears, fell into their collars and slid down their backs like snowballs down the neck. The sky went greenish-red like a nuclear blast had irradiated them. There were sirens. It was armageddon.
Ki-moon screamed at Ki-seok, “What are we going to do? Are we going to die by raining scrotum attack?”
“I don’t know!” Ki-seok screamed back. “I’ve never seen anything like this. This is worse than eating a pussy-squirter!”
Ki-bum, who was always the sharpest of the three, yelled over all the noise, “Stick your tongues out. Tickle the scrotums with your tongues and hands.”
The three Kis stuck out their tongues and hands and tickled all the scrotums they could get their hands and tongues on. They tongued and tickled until their jaws locked. They tongued and tickled until heaven giggled, and the rain stopped.
It got quiet, and the blue sky came out. The ramen was ready. They ate.
Ty – 2017, Japan
“My girlfriend recommended the place,” Ty said a little dishonestly as he didn’t mention his girlfriend was Keiko, one of the most decorated boxers there.
The clerk merely complimented Ty on his fluency in Japanese in the obligatory way the Japanese must. Ty was a talkative guy, and he told the trainer all his troubles, “I came to the gym because lately I’m feeling like I have put on too much weight around the midsection. Like I am carrying a spare tire.”
“We know all about that. You’ll see. We excel in getting bodies, err, ‘just right’,” he said. “We will get that off you in no time!”
“Do you jump rope?” said the young trainer. The question seemed to carry some eerie ulterior motive.
It was a training regiment of jump rope, heavy bag, sparring (when he was up for it, which he wasn’t yet), bench press, deadlifts, and leg presses that got the spare tire off Ty’s body. It really worked. It was like a military boot camp. It had its roots in 1948 of course, when men were men and toughness was a tangible thing. This routine was designed before the idiot box melted minds, and before still the mobile moron micro-machines made us into zombies, so the old school ideas plus today’s Asian technology (light years ahead of Britain or American), plus the magic tech from Planet Futanaria led to a way to make the whole gym ripped, bulletproof, and sexy as fuck.
Ty came in a fat ass by these high standards. Now, he was a fucking god. Ripped abs with thick shadows for the muscles and the hips, a strong, full butt, legs that revealed the striations of pure power like a mongoose, arms like canons, a chest like a barrel filled with the best Caribbean rum, and well, his face was handsome. I mean, it wasn’t bad. But that body! Youch! Keiko had to pinch herself. From having a typical middle aged Western husband, she’d gotten a black adonis. Still, he didn’t know about her secret.
Ty worked out with laser focus. He noticed that there were incredible women, bimbos with big jiggly squat-a-sized asses, bouncing bare boobies, and faces of sharp cut models, but he didn’t really stop to look out of respect for his girlfriend and his desire to improve himself before it was too late. Insecurity can be a powerful motivator.
After a few workouts, Ty increasingly noticed the gym being stuffed full of more hotties than a Tokyo train at rush hour being crammed with men in suits. Ty stuck around to watch one of the sparring matches. He still didn’t have the guts to get in the ring.
Yvette was on top of Hana. She’d pretty much punched her out, and now used her tits which were incidentally like heavy bags to beat her. Her thong was deep in her ass crack, just a delicate wisp of fabric on top of her anus. Each big, strong ass cheek muscled out. She was on top of Hana who wore her boots and a pink bikini bottom. Yvette wore a thong and went barefoot on the boxing mat. She beat Hana with her big, heavy tits.
Yvette had short hair like a GI or a sci-fi heroine or a Brooklyn mom. She was fit and hot. She wore a spaghetti strap, blue bikini and a thong.
In the gym there were all kinds of things going on. In the ring, Yvette and Hana were sparring with Yvette’s thong riding up her ass crack while she titty banged Hana into submission by shaking her shoulders and having each tit the size of a male watermelon smack her pretty little Korean face.
On the weight bench, pretty little Xuri had her legs spread, and her massive tits jiggled in her sports bra as she lifted heavy weights over her shoulders.
Against a column holding the building up, a massive chick with ass and tits bubbling out of her did 80-lb bicep curls while chatting with her girls. Her breasts were each two times the size of her head, each nipple was the size of an eyeball, and each areola as big as each of the four plates on the dumbbell. She wore tight yoga pants over the two globes, cosmically filling out her hot, round ass. She wore her red hair short and sexy. She went barefoot with a French manicure on her pretty toenails. She chatted with two other hotties in tank tops and big bulging tits. Each had massive asses. One had her knee up to her chest, stretching. The other did curls with only about 20 lbs. What did these ladies eat? They were the most bulbous lot on the planet! Ty scratched his head. Even in his travels to the West Indies he had never seen such a collection of coquettish and curvaceous cuties. He couldn’t look. He was getting a chubby. Also, he may have been the only one in the gym not to know that these girls all packed quite a penis punch down there. Keiko had never told him. At home, she was all woman. Here, with the magic jump rope, she was a FUTA queen.
Susan and Minae, both new girls, walked in and started to mess about the place. Susan came from New Jersey and was a small athletic chick with a tight body. She had heard of the magic FUTA jump rope and wanted a try. She had always been a bit of a tomboy and needed to know the pleasure of wielding a big cock. She was married and had children and was in the throes of a midlife crisis. Only cock could fix things.
Minae was also from the US, but from the deep south. She was a big-titted goddess. Her tits were even bigger than her afro. She had ass, too. She liked to be dominated, but was in a marriage to a run of the mill dude who was boring as white bread. Ugh. She was sick of him. She hinted, she spelled it out, she demanded that he dominate her, and he just wouldn’t do it. In the cruel ways of love and marriage, he worked hard to give her everything she didn’t want or need and neglected her deepest desires. He always wanted her to be comfortable. But she was only truly comfortable when on her knees, submitting to big cock. If he couldn’t do it, she would do it. She would grow the cock and dominate him. At least that way she could live vicariously through him. She didn’t want to divorce and had to find some way to make the fucking beta male useful to her. That was being a woman, always thinking on your feet and making up for the inequities of man. Assholes!
Everything started out swimmingly for Susan and Minae. They had workouts. They admired the FUTAs around them. They got ogled. They waited for their transformations. By all accounts, and a certain smutpunk website, the transformations took place on “Day One” during the jump rope session.
Susan got the rope first. She was good with it. She could do both feet, one foot then the other, skip, lift her legs up, jump, go fast, go slow, do a double wind, and more. She worked up quite a sweat with the delicious anticipation of growing a big dick and the rigorous workout from prolonged jumping rope.
She handed the jump rope off to Minae and saw that the rope was frayed. The handle was open, and it looked like an iPhone charger that had been compromised at the neck. She could swear she looked inside and saw some strawberry glitter coursing through it and then disappear.
“I think the jump rope is…broken,” Susan whispered to Minae.
Minae got in on jumping. Her big tits bounced, her ass cheeks quaked, her thighs rumbled. She was pretty as shit jumping rope and kept looking in the mirror to see her hot pants reveal the bulge of big cock that most of the ladies in there had.
“What the fuck?” she said to Susan and examined the rope.
“Maybe we aren’t worthy?” posited Minae.
At this point, Keiko–the keeper of the rope–and Ines–futa motherfucker–stepped up and took the rope.
“Uh oh,” is all Ines said. Keiko groaned a reluctant agreement. She saw Ty watching them from the corner. “You haven’t told him yet, have you?” Keiko looked into Ines’s eyes, pleading her to drop it. All Ines said was, “Queen of the Futa, baddest boxer in Japan, and total pussy in relationships!”
The Three Kis 2017
Keiko rolled her eyes at Ines while grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into a quiet little office in the back of the welcome counter.
“Well, where are the Sacred Three? Nobody has seen them in decades,” Ines whispered.
“They’re probably dead.”
“Not all of them. That’s unlikely, but we have no idea where they are.”
“The Legend of the Scrotum Rain took place in 1948, baby. That’s 69 years ago.”
“Sixty-nine, baby,” Ines said and pushed out her pelvis toward Keiko.
“Can you chill and get pleasure off your mind for a goddamn futa second.”
“No. Sex relaxes me, and then I think better.”
“Fine,” Keiko said and ran her hand the length of Ines’s big cock and over her drippy snatch. Then she said, “Fuck off! We have work to do or that big cock will be nothing more than a story high school kids tell. We must preserve the rope and gym.”
“You’re right. Where do we begin?”
They went to the counter looking for a clue. Ty was there to speak to Keiko.
“Shit, baby. Who’s the new girl?”
Keiko looked at the black girl who made them aware that the rope was in distress.
“They call her Minae, but her registration name is Tarina.”
“You see the tits on her?”
Keiko shot Ty a hard look that said, watch it.
He smiled that big full smile he had and kept talking. “I mean, each one is bigger than her face. I think they’re F size. I have never been with F size in my life.”
“Wait till she uses the rope, then that won’t be the only extra large thing about her.”
Ines laughed and mumbled “pussy” to Keiko. Ty looked at the two giggling women quizzically.
Ki one (Ki-Moon)
There was an epitaph on a stone laid in the mountain behind the Futa Boxing Gym. It read:
“Here lies Ki-Moon (aka Ki-one). He may or may not be remembered for the great feat of strength of his life. There may be no books written about him. There may be no grieving woman on her knees at the feet of this tomb. There may be no memorial wing of a university dedicated to him. But his contribution cannot be belittled. Those who know, know. Those who don’t know, wish they knew.”
Ki two (Ki-Bum)
“Cleavage is a very powerful weapon,” Ki Two said to his young pupil. “It must be handled properly, with great care, wielded responsibly. You cannot just throw cleavage around like a barn animal. Cleavage should be handled like a fine crystal, a life-giving property.”
At this point, Ki-Bum removed the tank top from his pupil’s left breast, peeling it back and revealing her ample bosom. It was not the massive sloppy bosom of an unfit woman. It was the full, beautiful bounty of a young woman. A beauty mark was splotched on the side like a sticker. “Yes, that’s it. Let cleavage be free, not stifled by the commercial clothes that society makes you wear. What’s that brand, Uniqlo?”
The pupil nodded which made the placid lake of breast water ripple. Ki-Bum moaned a little bit. He took out his smartphone and photographed his young pupil’s naked tit. She was kneeling on his balcony looking over the city.
He conducted her to raise her arms with her elbows down and squeeze the tits together. He then lurched forward and sucked on her left nipple sloppily and noisily, and she squealed in delightful surprise and then smiled her cute, slightly buck-toothed smile. Like many a pupil to many a professor, this naive little apprentice was falling in love. She wasn’t falling in love with him specifically but with the fact that he scribbled in the empty notebook of her experience book. He made her book feel full, meaningful, knowing. She needed that feeling and loved him for providing it.
Ki three (Ki-Seok)
Was your typical wise old man with a shaved head and a gray moustache that drooped like a weeping willow and came down to his big, bulging, young bimbo tits. So, not only did the scrotum rain lead to the creation of the Futa Boxing Gym and the Magic Jump Rope, but it had given him tits– big, beautiful tits, with cleavage. Think Sophia Lauren; think Jennifer Aniston. Think Tamara McLanahan or Minae Lanier. You get the idea.
This man was literally living up the mountain, where the chi was strong in an old temple. He was able to stand outside and look down on the neon of the city and peer over the Futa Boxing Gym. It’s protector. But he had no idea that the rope had frayed. None. How the fuck would a wise man know that?
A Journey to Repair the Rope
Ines and Keiko snuck out of the gym. Keiko had the rope wrapped around her in the ancient Shabari art of Erotic Rope Play. It was under her tits and then wrapped in a way to both separate and emphasize her sizable cleavage.
There was no power on this earth like cleavage.
Keiko was powerful with the ways of cleavage and with the ways of FUTA. She walked with the cocky swag of an alpha male merged with the bouncy, biped, boogie beat of hot bimbo.
“Do you know where to go?” Ines asked.
Keiko looked all around. “We will know it when we feel it.”
The Age of Mediocrity
In 1948, it was a different time.
In Thailand, the Japanese Empire was holding onto its last vestiges of power while in Japan, the Honda Motor Car Company was formed. The Japanese started the Coast Guard. Seven War Criminals were handed Death Sentences. And Scrotum Rain Showered the Three KIs spouting out of the great big boiling balls shower head in the sky.
It was a time of milestones. Of powerful men, women, and FUTAs. Of great things being decided.
People were exceptional in these times.
There were fucking war criminals for god’s sake, and people accused them of things in an organized fashion. And then punished them with death. There were reparations. There was poverty. The kind that made your stomach swell and flies buzz around you waiting to feast on your dead corpse. There was military soup with spam as the only protein available for acres and acres, hectars and hectars, li and li.
It was the more recent history where mediocrity was on the rise. Fuck, even baseball teams were all even now. There was no more winners or losers. Just participants. There were even participation awards.
And villains were a thing of the past.
Nothing was black and white anymore. Only grey. Grey, with a slight hue of cheetoh dust and coca-cola. The Dulles brothers had made sure all American groceries were now supermarkets who waxed their fruit, ensuring safe travel to the continental U.S. by the good Christian work of Death Squads skinning women in Third World Countries.
The atrocities of 2017 were the slow, languid kind. Not the brutal kamikazes, hara-kiri, and mass executions of the previous centuries. Where were the Robespierres and Maria Antionettes? Where were the guillotines? Today’s horrors were the kind that could have been prevented had we studied or taken our heads out from the assholes of our mobile devices for long enough to learn how to see reality.
When you spend most of your day looking at blinking pixels, your neurons struggle to process real space. They lose the sense of space and distance. Fact and fiction blend, blur, and recede into an electric eye with maniacal laughing from–what was his name? That rabbit. That Porky McStuffin. No, that Bugs Lightyear, no, that Luke Skyinvader. No… no, no.
Nobody remembers Mel Blanc or any maniacal laughter or that Viktor Borge did the muppets with his esoteric brand of comedy because the exceptional, the extraordinary itself, has gone with Joe DiMaggio, Pol Pot Sticker, and Paul Auster Simon. They got youtubed to death. Clubbed with a club in a club. Now, we are rampant with indies of all sorts, freelancing life itself, outsourcing it to China and India to sell back to the West in an endless loop. Even our pastors are part-time investment managers, and school teachers sit on boards in co-ops. Algorithms fly planes and tell us was to read. Politicians have zero political training, bad grammar, weak vocabularies, and haven’t convinced the world they’re even literate (maybe cause they’re not), or born in the country they rule. Or even fucking human!
And the magic jump rope. The one that imbibes FUTAlicity into a body–that surge of sexy, of swag, of swell, swoon, shriek, and splooge–got frayed. And the whole futalicious world of futas was in decline (Transgenders got banned from the US Military!).
And then what would we have but facebook and twitter. God fucking help us with your Aztec ways!
The age of mediocrity had risen. We were in a dark age. And symmetrically and thematically and a little bit futaliciously. Keiko and Ines set out in the dark, trying to repair the frayed rope. They needed to find the three Kis but had no idea how, where, or what the fuck?
“Do you see that motherfucker?”
“Sure as shit drips from the sky.”
“We have to go, right?”
“Right as rain, sister.” Keiko slapped Ines on the booty. Off they went up the mountain toward the sign: a great big scrotum shower head in the sky.
“Scrotum Rain,” Ines yelled. She got out her big flashlight, the really bright one used by the Coast Guard (Started in 1948) and sold on infomercials in America (three easy payments of $19.99) and shined it up. Sure as shit drops from the sky, there was a goddamn, big ass scrotum shower head over the mountain where there was a temple of some sort and scrotum rain was falling.
“Hurry, bitch,” Ines said to Keiko who was standing there like a slack jawed deer in headlights.
The two gorgeous futas strode up the hill like they were each on horse. Their coconuts bounced and clacked in the exact same sound as riding a horse as they rode and their tits bounced. Up on the mountain scrotums pelted the temple.[icon style=”style1″ url=”” image=”icon-filter”
Ki-seok, the first of the two remaining of the three Kis, roused. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Ki-seok said. Not since 1948 have I…” He spied the two futas riding and clacking toward him. He swiftly shut the shudders and hid in the cozy confines of the temple. “I fear trouble is brewing.”
Sometimes the student becomes the master. Other times the student is taken advantage of
“Ki-Bum San, you’re too big!” said the young pupil lying face down on the balcony looking out over a brewing storm cloud. Ki-Bum was on top of his nearly seventy-year junior, his thick brown cock snuggling wisely up her rectum. He was her teacher, literally her Master in this culture. She submitted to himself as is a right of passage of young sexy adults who make the university life their main passion. She was pleased with herself but felt a certain foreboding like now her self-worth was tied up in his. “Are you enjoying me, Professor?” she asked as he kept his cock snuggled inside her asshole. Ki-Bum looked to the cloud forming over the mountainside. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s asshole. Holy shits of military soup. Is that a scrotum shower?”
The pupil had younger eyes and made out that the cloud was indeed a big scrotum sack in the sky that was acting as a cosmic shower head. Scrotum sacks of a normal human male size were ejecting out of the great big scrotum sack and raining down on the temple on the side of the mountain. “It appears it’s a scrotum shower head, showering scrotums on the temple, Sir.”
“This sodomy session will have to be put on hold, dear. I’m sorry. Can you drive me up to the temple. There is unfinished business. Business I never thought I’d see to the end in this lifetime.”
She looked up at him and noticed his chest was heaving. Ki-Bum’s great big, double F breasts were leaking milk as he breathed heavy. His shirt was getting stained.
“Sir, your shirt.”
The car was metallic blue, the same color as the glittery makeup she wore on her eyes. If it were the future, this would be the perfect color for a flying car, but the student, whose name is so unimportant, was driving it up the mountain.
“Holy god of all the universe,” said Ki-Bum, slicking back his hair as he said it. “Space, this is a nasty moment in human history.”
“What is it?” asked the unnamed student. “Is it an attack?”
“Something like that, student. It’s not exactly an attack, it’s more of a contact.”
“It’s pelting the temple. That’s pretty hard contact.”
Ki-Bum shook his head in despair. “You have no idea how awful it is. I was just a teengager, younger than you. It was 1948. We were poor. I was with the other two Kis, boiling nutritionless ramen, hoping the Americans would drop some food so we could eat some protein and not just eat flavorless ramen with no salt, sugar, chili, or meat.”
The student noticed that as they got closer, scrotums were what were pelting the temple and it’s ornate, old-fashioned flying eaves. The student pulled the glittery blue car right under the stormsack. That’s right, it was a hydrocele. Literally a storm cell that was a storm “cloud” made of an accumulation of serous fluid in a body sac. Perfect definition of a hydrocele in the air: a storm sac. This sac hovered over a mountain, pelting it with scrotum sacks rather than your average sac, sitting tucked and quiet in a dude’s hairy testicles.
Ki-Bum ran out with his tongue out. The student, eager to help and earn the professor’s respect, followed him. She let her glittery face take a scrotum pelting. She shrieked as each one hit her. It was a shriek of terror, of lust, of breaking all the rules a submissive student must follow. Ki-Bum and the student licked and teabagged scrotum sacs to try and assuage the futanaria gods, as the three Ki’s had done in 1948. But this time it wasn’t working, and the scrotum rain was getting rougher. If the last one was a storm, this one was upgrading to a hurricane of dicksac.
“Something isn’t working!” Ki-Beom shouted amid mouthfuls of heavenly scrotum. “Where’s Ki-Seok?”
“Am I not doing it right?” asked the student self-consciously.
“No! Yes! Of course! You suck just fine!” he yelled to her as she licked cosmic balls in front of him.
The Problem was in the Temple
When her big booty finally stopped shaking from the ass-quaking ass-slap, Ines gathered herself and headed for the temple. It was in the middle of getting smooched lovingly by saggy and wrinkled scrotum sacs. “Look,” Ines said. “There’s someone in there!”
“Could it be one of the three FUTA-magi? Are they real and in the flesh?” Keiko wondered aloud.
Ines slapped Keiko on her big, fine booty.
They followed a small corridor past some delicate Japanese screens into a circular stairway. The steps were quite small near the nucleus of the stairway and then extended out so the girls could get their footing and levatate up the escaleras.
Upstairs, a dim eerie radioactive glow permeated the gloomy holy inner sanctum. Ki-Seok was in the shadows like a guru, watching. He saw two sexy swag-filled, cocky as cunt, futaliciously delicious, bimbo babes with boners walk into his sacred sanctum and thanked his lucky stars.
“Who seeks the sacred lightning?” his voice boomed out of the darkness.
The girls stopped in their tracks, startled. Their succulent, condensed milk secreting, nipples hardened.
The guru’s cock stirred. It didn’t move or grow, it just stirred on the inside. It hadn’t stirred in decades.
“We come in search of the divine forces of FUTA!” Ines said bravely. Then she cowered behind keiko’s smooth gorgeous shoulder.
“For what purpose?”
Keiko removed her blouse over her head and revealed her massive Nippon Nipples and Juicy Japanese Juggs. The guru eyed the Shibari work from afar, and in the dim radioactive glow he saw that the rope was glowing phosphorescently. Then he saw the luminescence fizzle out, and he nodded sagely. “I see. And I can help. What you need to do is release the rope and tie it around both your naked backs. Come!”
Keiko and Ines were both on their knees facing Ki-Seok from opposite sides. He had the magic shibari jump rope tied around them, pressing their four tits against one another. His cock was between all four of their tits, pumping up and down. The rope had his cock tightly surrounded by their juicy bimbo breast meat. He poured glow in the dark green viscous liquid on their tits, and his cock glowed as it tunneled through double cleavage. After enough striking and moaning, he was cumming in a fountain. It was like fireworks going off above the ladies’ shoulders.
When the last of the gooey cum dripped from his cock, Keiko wiped it up with a slurp. She then looked at the magic jump rope. “Anything, Ines?”
“Not a thing.”
“What gives?” Keiko stared hard at Ki-Seok.
“I’m sorry, ladies,” Ki-Seok said. “I’m just an old man. How can I resist your incredible prowesses? I had to indulge, but actually I lied and this does nothing for your sexy rope. Please understand, it did wonders beyond your comprehension for a lonely old man who devoted his life to the keeping of the rope. However, the only way to heal the frayed rope is to go out there and lick the hairy balls of futaria. It’s a true panspermia.”
As soon as the words rattled the ears of the two girls, they rushed out, tongues out, pussies wet, tits sticky with the old con man’s glowing green cum.
Ki-Seok followed them out.
Still, with all of them licking balls–Keiko, Ines, the Student, Ki-Bum, and Ki-Seok–there was no change. In fact, the stress of the quest had made the jump rope from Futanaria look worse than ever!
Dark Times lead to Light
The new girl, Minae, had followed Ines and Keiko out. She had a portable camping stove. She unfurled it and hooked the white gas canister. The jets lit one by one, and she busted out the ramen noodles, the spam, and the chili powder. She set them to boil in water. Then she got in the fray and started ball licking with her new friend Susan watching from the shadows of the temple.
The two Kis, the student, the Futas, and the new girl all stuck out their tongues and hands and tickled all the scrotums they could get their hands, tongues, and tits on–some glowing in the dark and some not. They each tongued and tickled Futanaria’s Cosmic Ball Sacs until one by one their jaws locked.
It got quiet, and a pristine black sky filled with beautiful starts.
The ramen was ready. They all sat down on the ground, which was mysteriously suddenly bone dry.
Nobody mentioned the rope. The soup was delicious. The way the spicy soup coated the noodles in kimchi made the spam delicious. Spicy and delicious.
After the last of the meal was slurped up, Keiko piped up. “Look at the rope.” She showed it to the group. The frayed part had been repaired and sizzled with a drop of luminescent cosmic energy.
When Ines walked in to the Futa Boxing Gym, the whole gym changed. She owned the fucking place. Her tight ass body walked on stage in a Miss Universe pageant. It said, I own you bitches. Her ass sashayed, her tits swayed, her natural dirty blonde hair draped. She was fucking gorgeous, and she knew it. And she had something special: a big futa cock dripping pre-cum into her panties.
She entered the gym first, trailing her band of merry jump rope repairers. They came in like conquerors. The same way that Charlemagne rode into Paris, Ines rode into the Futa Boxing Gym. It was celebration time.
The music pumped sweet J-pop. None of these depraved gym-goers could resist bliss. The gym quickly became a club.
When Ines sucked Asian dick her tits were smushed against his hairless thighs as she took his cock easily until her ruby red lipstick smeared his balls. When Ines sucked Ty’s massive boner she was far away from him with her tits penduluming as he held her face with his muscular arms and pulled her towards him and down on his big veiny cock and then pushed her off. She was his rag doll. It was hot to be at the mercy of his big powerful body while getting impaled by his big powerful cock. His cock was the size of her arm from elbow to wrist. His cock was the length of her face from chin to hairline. His cock slid into her throat and nudged her voicebox enroute to throatfucking her. His cock…her reverie was cut off by a stiffening off his balls that signaled that he was going to spurt.
Keiko watched her husband holding her best friend’s beautiful face in his big black hands as he convulsed with orgasm and shot his load
Don’t think that she was jealous. Jealousy was just another way to increase the emotion of these encounters. While the music blared and Ines coaxed Ty’s cum out of his big firehose, Keiko was squatting with her tits out and back arched, with two huge rods pointing at each of her tits. It was a big cock blow bang and Keiko was the kneeling whore in the middle. Even among all that cock, she focused enough to watch her husband jerk his cock into her bestie’s mouth and smiled. She loved watching Ines, and now she loved watching Ty. But she saw something in Ty. He was happy. Of course he was happy, he just had a gorgeous woman suck him off and eat his cum, but he didn’t look completely satisfied. Keiko knew these things as a rope of cum from one of the two remaining Kis raced down her hair. Keiko knew sexual depravity and deviation and saw that, now that the magic jump rope was fixed, her husband wanted more. She looked at Ines and then at Ty and Ines caught Keiko’s drift.
Ines replaced Keiko as the centerpiece of the boxing gym blow bang, kneeling in the center of ring. The keyboard interstellar buzz saw soared into the high notes. It was sweet as honey and cum. As Ines kneeled, the riff built up in pitch and intensity. Ines’ big golden-brown tits jiggled as she turned to face the erupting cock that rocketed cum into her mouth and up her nose. She gagged and then giggled for a moment, as another cock emptied custard onto one of her gorgeous tits. In moments, she looked like a glazed donut. After the Kis splooged her, futa after futa came up and jizzed on her face, tits, back, ass, feet until she was like a bundt cake.
Meanwhile, Minae kneeled down and squeezed her big tits together. She served Ty her tits the way a waiter would offer Swedish meatballs on a silver platter. Minae was another hot dish in this cocktail party and obediently offered her tits as if there were toothpicks inserted into each one for easy taking. Ty took one of Minae’s big tits and Keiko took the other. Husband and wife sucked Minae’s titties collectively, each with one big brown beauty respectively in the mouth.
Ty had never seen Keiko as a futa. The magic rope had an exceptional power of being a temporary state for Keiko. Ty loved Keiko and wanted all of her. Every last inch. He stared into her eyes, then his eyes drifted down her body to her amazing breasts and down to her yoga pants. He saw the way the pants fit her extra tight. He just knew there was more to her.
“I want to love all of you, baby,” Ty said to Keiko. Minae’s heart just melted. Here in the gym with the interstellar keyboard wave sound like G. Cliton and the P. SPunk All-Stars and 6NE9 singing their rhythmic, sexy harmony over the funk music, it was love.
Keiko put her thumbs inside her yoga pants. Ty nodded. She lowered the yoga pants. Underneath, she was wearing a blue bathing suit bottom. Her colossal package showed through it. Ty quivered with craving.
The ménage between Minae, Keiko, and Ty heated up like somebody added sugary alternative energy rocket fuel. The three lovers went from one position to another.
The whole gym was in an orgy of sound and sex. There were spurting cocks, wet slits, shaking asses. There were couples on weight benches, people fucking against heavy bags, and the jump rope was being passed around like cupcakes at a birthday party. In the ring, a massive blow bang was splashing and sploshing. Ines was the cum target.
Susan finally got her hands on the just-repaired magic jump rope. Her heart thumped louder than the bass that the topless female DJ was blasting. BANG, BANG, GANG, thumped Susan’s sexy heart. She flipped the jump rope over her head and, after jumping over it once, she felt a new mass shaking in her pants.
It was dark in the gym and Ty couldn’t really see well, but she could see Keiko’s tits shaking. Then she saw her face contorted in intense pleasure. Minae saw the way Keiko bit her own lip. Keiko’s ass bounced up and down on Minae until Ty saw Minae’s cum fill his wife’s cunt. Ty nearly jizzed just watching it. Cum leaked out of Keiko’s pussy and trickled down Minae’s gigantic dick. Ty swooned watching all that glorious cum drip between his wife’s gorgeous pussy and Minae’s delicious cock. He felt a pull in his belly. He wanted to eat it.
They changed positions again.
Across the room Minae saw her new friend Susan’s hands on an ass bouncing up and down. Ki-seok’s submissive student’s pussy took Susan’s brand new bulky cock. There was sex everywhere. Pleasure far and wide. Gratification in girth.
Keiko made Minae bend over and started to fuck her roughly just the way Minae wanted it but never got it from her hubby. Keiko grabbed Minae’s weave and pounded her while she screamed, Minae needed it rough like this. “Yes, daddy!” Minae said. Keiko slapped Minae’s ass.
“I mean, yes, mama!”
“She’s learning,” said Ty with a big sexy smile.
“Not fast enough,” said Keiko. “Now I’m going to switch holes, you dirty slut, and teach you a fucking lesson,” Keiko thumbed Minae’s tight asshole.
Ty was hard as a rock watching the two women use each other. A moment ago, he enjoyed watching Minae use his wife’s pussy. Now, watching Keiko dominate Minae harshly up her tight ass was hotter than anything he’d ever seen. He could feel fire emanating from his cockhead.
Minae’s asshole took Keiko’s big futa cock inside until the whole cock disappeared inside her big black ass. Keiko pounded that ass violently as kawaii metal blared over the speakers encouraging a good, hard, anal fucking. Ty watched with his mouth wide open. He was in awe. He was in ecstasy, well, on the very of it. He lay on his back like he were going to sixty-nine with Minae. Minae did take Ty’s cock in her mouth, but he didn’t eat Minae’s pussy. He just watched his wife’s arduous fucking of Minae’s pretty ass. Keiko’s cock was jamming in and out of Minae’s asshole furiously.
Minae’s thick, meaty pussy lips hung there, shaking.
As Keiko’s big cock went in and out of Minae’s asshole, her pussy lips opened and closed responsively. Keiko fucked Minae even harder, and the pussy lips shook side to side. Then Keiko moaned loudly. Keiko pulled out of Minae’s ass. Cum poured out. It leaked like someone had opened a faucet.
Underneath, Ty’s face took the waterfall of his wife’s cum onto his face. He stuck his tongue out in ecstasy. The cum gushed out of the asshole, down Minae’s pussy lips, and onto his elated tongue. He ate all that cum. A long-hidden fetish that had been hiding inside of him, gushed out of him. Keiko saw how hungrily he ate her juices and fed his fetish more. She used her cockhead to q-tip more cum out of Minae’s asshole and then dipped her cock into his mouth. Ty started to suck his wife’s big futa cock out of Minae’s hot asshole. He moaned in joy as cum still rained down on him, as he sucked, as he fulfilled the deep desire he’d just pulled out of the closet. Cum was spilling from his mouth, from Minae’s pussy lips, and from her asshole. He was so excited he barely even realized that he was cumming inside Minae’s mouth.
As his last drops of cum pasted Minae’s throat, Keiko leaned down and gave her husband a big, deep, cummy French kiss. It was pure elation.
She looked over and Ines was in a pool of cum. They all started giggling.
Now that Minae had a cock she went back to her husband in America. The gym had changed her. Unlike Keiko, Minae’s futa cock was permanent. It was what she wanted.
Minae walked different. It wasn’t just because she had a big, throbbing member pushing up against the waistband of her yoga pants. Her confidence had changed. It had grown. When Ty ate his wife’s cock fresh out of Minae’s asshole-oven, Minae felt a surge of…glory.
That’s right, glory.
It was indeed glorious to be the vehicle of another couple’s sexual depravity and search of unbridled joy. She had wanted that intense delight for years. She watched Ty discover his deepest passion. She hoped that her husband would catch on and provide her with the dominance and depravity that drove her sexual RPM needle deep into the red. Minae wanted her husband to be strong, to make her submit, to withhold her pleasure and then let it rain down on her like a torrential downpour until her pussy was gushing so hard that North America sunk in sea of her pussy juice. But he never caught on…until now. The tables had turned.
Minae’s hubby was on his hands and knees, with his head in the sheets and his fingers grasping desperately as the fitted cover unpopped from the mattress.
Uh oh, dear reader, the teaser is over. Continue reading.
Hotel Sex: There’s something so cheap and sexy about it!
Jynx is a little sexpot. She is curvy—with big tits like bulbous eggplants held by sports bras and a juicy ass that smacks you back when smacked because it’s so tight—and a crazy conniving bitch using cunt as a weapon and cum as a salve. Her arch enemy is Jenny. Her greatest love story is Moctezuma Johnson.
Read the Chronicles of a Humiliation Series to learn more about her.
Read an excerpt from the Hotel Party (part 1 of the series)
Read a poem about Jenny
Excerpt – Smutpunk on Skates (Four Book Asian Erotica Bundle)
by Emme Hor
That fucker held her hips and pumped away, while the big, black butt plug gripped her tight anal walls and massaged the underbelly of his thick, white shaft until he was on the brink of cumming. He pulled his massive mushroom-headed club out of her cute quivering cunt, brought her leg toward him, kissed her juicy calf in cruel juxtaposition of abuse and love that sent her heart fluttering. He pushed her roller-skated-foot to his dick. He rubbed his cock on the wheels and moaned.
“You’re sick,” Heather said as he let her skates jerk him off. Her plump pussy lips were gaping, begging for his cock to come back.
“I know,” he said. “And you fucking love every minute of it. Look at your fat cunt lips flapping in the wind desperately, whore!”
He pulled on her cunt lips roughly and let them smack back into her pubic bone with a pop. Heather felt like she’d been smacked with a glove.
When that delicious fucker pushed his victorious dick back into her throbbing pussy, it was utter nirvana for her. Heather saw the Sun dim. She saw stars shoot. She felt like the sexiest roller-skater in the universe. There was that nasty feeling of being an utter slut mixed with the guilty pleasure of fucking an ex. A fantastic orgasm shuttered down her spine and through her lips. Her voice came back and she screamed her own name, “Heather!” as if she was reprimanding herself for being such a dirty little butt-plugged tramp. She pulled his dick deeper with her Kegel muscles and by lifting her hips.
That fucker couldn’t take anymore. It was like fucking quicksand. Her muscles held him so tight, he felt like his dick would rip off from the root. He stepped back and his cock popped out of her cunt. He stood over her and hosed down her face with his cum. She lapped up some of it, savoring the taste of his superior cum on her tongue as he collapsed onto the log on his back. Most of his cum dripped from her flushed cheeks, sexy chin, and full lips.
“You know, I thought you owned me, but look at you,” Heather said and then flipped herself up onto her skates adroitly, leaned down and kissed him victoriously on the lips. Now she was looking down at him, her long hair cascading down onto his chest, with sunrays exploding geometrically like a kaleidoscopic halo around her head. She was gorgeous and she knew it. She kissed him, the cum transferred from her cum stained lips to his. She wiggled her head and smeared his cum all over his face triumphantly.
Read the whole thing at geni.us/SmutpunkSkates
Some slang from the book:
Lah – see image
Wahlao – Video Definition
Excerpt from –
by July Cumming
The brat sneaks a peek of the man of the house while he showers. Catching him in the act, she finds out he is well-endowed. Now she wants him inside more than ever. Tom takes a trip to the mall with Samantha, her boyfriend, and her redheaded troublemaker best friend. Inside the XXX store and the public restroom, causes an interesting and extremely sticky and messy Sunday afternoon for all.
Samantha looked at the time again and realized she had better get moving. She promptly stood up from the table and headed towards her dad. When she got to the side of him, she noticed his hand on the outside of his pants holding his cock. A devilish feeling swept through her body. “I’m done eating, what about you Dad? Can I take your plate?” she asked, extending her arm over his shoulder for his dish.
Tom was quick, but not quick enough. Shit, I hope she didn’t see that. He pretended to act like nothing had gone on, and removed his hand from his hard-on. “Yes Cupcake. I’m done. It was delicious, thank you,” he said, jolting up out of his chair. He whipped the newspaper down, covering up the front of his groin, hoping it would stop his daughter from seeing his massive erection.
“No problem Daddy. Anything for you.” Samantha grinned as she carried the plates to the kitchen sink.
Now that she had her back turned, Tom took the opportunity to leave the room before she could see his pitched tent. Last nights tent could have slept four, now it could fit eight. “I’m going to go jump in the shower. I won’t take long dear,” Tom said, heading up the stairs to his room.
“Alright Daddy. I’ll be doing the same thing soon. Have to make myself look pretty for Blake.”
From the top of the stairwell, Tom responded, “you’re already beautiful. Don’t ever forget that.”
Samantha finished clearing off the table and cleaning up the mess from breakfast. I wonder what he was thinking about while he was stroking his cock under the table? Was he thinking of me? No way was he thinking of me. I was only trying to tease him a little. Fuck, that was a daring thing to do in front of me. I can’t believe how massive it looked. If Blake is that big, he’s going to split me in two. Would that be so bad?
Counting down the days to losing her virginity, Samantha was finding herself not only nervous but incredibly horny. Why on earth was her dad turning her on now? It was something she had never thought about, or would ever dream about, until last night. His moans were so intense, so stimulating, so fucking filthy. The guilt of enjoying seeing her father hard and his sounds from masturbating the night before, made her feel nauseous. As much as she felt disgusted by the forbidden attraction to the man who raised her, she had never felt the energy so high in her pussy.
Samantha headed up the stairs to start getting ready for the afternoon. When she walked into her bedroom, the first thing she spotted was her heart-shaped pillow. Her pussy began to uncontrollably clench from the memory of the amazing orgasm she had the night before. Without thinking, she left her room and headed for the room next to hers. Samantha held her ear to her father’s bedroom door, waiting for any signs of her dad walking around. The only sounds she heard, was the water running in his bathroom and of course the pounding coming from her chest.
Her hand trembled in fear as she grasped her palm around the doorknob. Samantha hesitated before turning the handle. She convinced herself that everything would be okay if she only opened the door just enough to peek inside. Anymore than a crack and she could risk getting herself caught. Samantha opened the door, and when she didn’t see Tom around she grinned. He must be in the shower. She made a bold move and carefully stepped inside her parents’ room.
Sure enough, she heard the shower running, but also noticed that her dad’s bathroom door had been left open. Samantha was curious to see anything she could get her eyes on. Maybe she would get a glimpse of his ass, or even his man parts. She didn’t care as long as she got to see something. Sammie slowly walked across the shag carpet towards the door of his bathroom. Just before she reached the frame, she crouched down and practically crawled herself around his dresser, enough to have a look. On all fours, on his bedroom floor, she peered into her daddy’s washroom.
The room was full of rising steam, but she could still make out her dad’s silhouette through the glass shower door. She was only hoping for a peek at his cock, what she saw instead was even better. Her dad had his hand wrapped around his erection and he was once again beating off. Samantha looked in awe as her father stood there unaware she was watching him vigorously pound his dick. Did I do that to him? Oh daddy, stroke it hard and cum for me. She felt tempted to whisper out to him but knew it would be so wrong. This was not the typical Sunday afternoon with her dad that she’d been accustomed to in the past.
Tom closed his eyes, thinking of the wet spot on his daughter’s shirt. When he saw her nipple standing out behind the white cotton, he wished he could have grabbed her breast and sucked on her begging tit. Knowing that Samantha was still a virgin, enticed him more. She was fresh, could be taught so many sexual things, and she had so many pleasures yet to discover. He would do anything to help her transition from being a girl, to becoming a woman. Tom pictured the moment when his daughter wrapped her sultry lips around the glistening breakfast meat. “Aah yes,” he moaned, stroking faster. He knew it wasn’t a realistic wish, but it sent a unique surge through him. It turned him on more than he had been in a long time.
Samantha loved hearing her dad groan as he whacked off in the shower. If she could help him out, just once, she would. Yesterday, she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing such an immoral thing, but something about his carnal grunts of gratification, thrilled her more than imaginable. She absorbed herself in his motions, in his sounds, in his forbidden passion. She didn’t realize he was thinking of his little girl the entire time he was masturbating.
Samantha leaned down, resting her left arm on the floor and spat on the fingertips of her right hand. She slid her hand down her shorts and into her panties. Finding her clit, she began rubbing circles around her swollen bud while watching her dear father gripping his thick shaft. When he slowed his pace, she slowed down with him. She finger fucked herself to the steady rhythm of her daddy.
Read more Voices Carry – 2
#LPRTG #EARTG #ANAL | @JulyCumming | Excerpt from Bending Over For Jeff (Disciplined and Humiliated, A Backdoor Punishment Story) by July Cumming
As you know from my reviews, I love July’s writing and adore her story “Bending Over For Jeff” so I was thrilled that she agreed to publish a little bit of it here.
by July Cumming
Moonlighting as an erotic author, Ms. C will do just about anything to pay the bills. Hoping for a raise when the CEO calls her in a performance review, she finds herself on her knees and bending over. Performing under pressure has never been so hard.
My head was tripping from drinking so much wine. This meeting felt like one big hallucination.
“Is everything okay? You look a little pale. Maybe it’s time you took a break. Have a walk around the room and stretch out those legs.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt. My body’s feeling numb from sitting so long,” I replied, pushing myself out from the desk. I stood up, arched my back to get out the kinks and the room began to spin.
Now was a good time to switch to the water I still had in my purse. I reached down into my bag, and as I came up I had a massive head rush. I downed the rest of the lukewarm water, hoping it would help stop the spinning.
Jeff smirked. “Better now?”
“Somewhat. I need a few minutes to clear my head.”
“Sure. Do you want to give your customers a great experience?”
“Of course I do. That’s a pretty dumb question to ask. I want my readers to come from my dirty imagination.”
“I need you to prove it.”
“I’m writing a story for you aren’t I?”
“I’m going to have to see your credentials. You know, show, don’t tell,” he stated.
“I thought you said you’ve read my work? How else would I show you?”
“Why don’t you show me how talented you are with those sexy lips.”
“What did you say?” There’s no way in hell he had the nerve to say what I thought I heard. “Did you just tell me to blow you?”
“Yes, you heard correct.”
I gave Jeff a stern look and picked up my purse. “I let the other stuff slide, but I draw the line at that Mr. St. Bendovz. If you could please point me to the door, I’ll be happy to leave,” I huffed, crossing his path.
Jeff stood up, his stiff cock protruding from his robe. His hand reached out for me, “Please don’t go,” he begged, grabbing at my arm. His strong hand squeezed my wrist. “We aren’t finished here.”
“Oh, yes we are! Let go of me!” The slick coconut oil on his palm made it easy for me to wriggle myself out of his grip.
“I’m the one calling the shots here. We are just getting started darling,” Jeff exclaimed, pushing me towards the desk. “I’m sure you’re aware that I grew up in Florida.”
“Yeah, so. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, I’d like to put some South in your mouth.”
“Oh wow, that didn’t sound cliché at all,” I replied, tripping on the object behind me. My body fell back onto a large white cushioned footstool. Jeff took my mishap as his opportunity to trap me. Before I could blink he straddled his legs over mine, making it impossible for me to stand back up. I sat face to face with his dripping one-eyed snake.
“I thought you brought me here to write you a smutty story? We started this a long time ago, now I’m ending it.”
“Not so fast. You’re not being a team player.”
“Now wait a minute. I’ve been compliant with everything you’ve asked of me so far.”
“Not everything. Since you write about sucking and fucking, you must be an expert in both. I need to find out if it’s true.”
“Can’t you leave things to the imagination? I could write that I’m purple, love eating broccoli and have you believe that I just started college. Guess what? None of that is real.” I wasn’t going to let him know I was a pro at sucking cock. I loved it so much to the point that I craved it.
“But those things don’t get me hard. The way you write so vividly about squirting and deep throating, I can’t let you go until I find out for myself.”
“Sounds like you’re infatuated with me. I guess I’ll be here for a while then. I’m sure someone in this institution would hear me if I screamed.”
Jeff looked around the room, “There’s nobody here but us. You can scream all you want. You know, let out that anger you have with me. It might even add some spice to what you are about to do.”
My heart started thumping hard like a drum solo in an eighties hair band.
“I can’t do it.”
“You can and you will. I could dismiss you for not following orders. I’d have to hold your pay of course. Do you want that?”
“No. I worked hard for my sales.”
“Then I suggest you obey me and show me what you can do.”
The words he uttered triggered my hot button. My pussy clenched, begging for some action. “Not now, not with him. Control your hormones,” I thought to myself.
“Jeff, this is getting out of hand. Are you seriously trying to blackmail me into getting you off?”
“I wouldn’t call it blackmail. I’m offering you the opportunity to prove your worth. You’d like to get paid for this story you’re writing me right?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Then do as I say and get on your knees. You can call me Big Daddy from now on. Maybe you can earn yourself a big bonus.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, nudging me towards his prick.
Unfuckingbelievable. There was no way I was going to cave in to cruel demands.
I glanced up to him, shaking my head in disapproval. “I’m fine sitting here. Would you really do that?”
“What do you think?” He grabbed my hand and placed it around the base of his half limp cock. He held my hand down with his own and guided me to stroke him off. “That’s it. Make Big Daddy harder than I could ever imagine.”
With ease, my hand rode up and down his growing prick. His warm flesh pulsed in my palm as I jerked him into a full erection. “This is crazy! You won’t get away with this.”
“Shh… enough talking. I don’t want words coming from your mouth, I want to be cumming in your powerful storytelling mouth.”
Jeff placed his hand on the back of my head, pulling me down to his massive veiny prick. I pulled my head back to break free but couldn’t. I wasn’t ready for what he wanted me to do. Sure, I’d done some nasty shit in my life but this was a new low for me.
“Don’t make this difficult. Come on, be a good girl and suck my cock,” he ordered, drawing my face closer into him.
For an older guy, it looked enticing. Neatly trimmed, huge balls and a girth I’ve only dreamed about. My dainty hand looked very much out of proportion wrapped around his impressive cock. The tip oozed with a drop of his liquid crystal pre-cum, begging for me to lick it off.
I had no choice but to swallow my pride and hope to not choke on it.
I closed my eyes, licked my lips and took a deep breath before leaning forward with my tongue pointing out. I hesitated as my lips approached his heated flesh.
Should I start on his shaft or his head? What was my incentive to blow him? These were the kinds of questions that plagued me as a writer.
“Go on baby girl, get those creative juices flowing.”
It figures he’d use the words I loved to hear. How could I loathe someone so much and at the same time indulge in sucking him off? This guy is a repulsive asshat douche bag, coercing me to chug down his dick.
Feeling uneasy about the situation, I let go of his raging cock, pulling myself away from him. “This is ridiculous. I can’t do it,” I whispered, shaking my head. “This is so wrong.”
I looked up at Jeff and sensed he was growing impatient by the glare in his eyes.
“July, if you don’t put it in your mouth in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to have to take drastic measures.”
“By drastic measures, are you implying you’d force it into my mouth?” I asked for clarification. “You wouldn’t dare.” I couldn’t let him violate me. I clenched my teeth together in hopes it would stop him from entering my inviting mouth.
“I wouldn’t use the word force, it’s more like I’d help you get it inside.” Jeff smiled, nudging my face a little closer to his cock. Jeff removed his hand from the back of my head, “Like this,” he whispered, cupping his palm under my jaw.
Jeff firmly held my face in place while using his other hand to drag his cock-head across my mouth. “Come on sweetie, open up for Big Daddy.” His thick tip circled around my lips, painting them entirely in his salty gloss. He pressed forward, slipping his chubby head inside the seal of my mouth.
Normally, I like getting to know the prick first before giving head. I’d start by kissing the tip, then work my way down and lick back up the shaft before cramming it down my throat. It was obvious he didn’t want to wait.
Read More Bending Over For Jeff
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Excerpt of I Am Not a Whore, At Least Not Yet by Emme Hor | #EARTG #Erotica #LPRTG | Mirror – Original Published at mrblackthorne.com
Excerpt of I Am Not a Whore, At Least Not Yet by Emme Hor | #EARTG #Erotica #LPRTG
From the Confessions of a Whore Trilogy – This scene from Book 1 takes place somewhere in Anytown, USA
Neil was munching on a green tea ice cream out of the cup and I was eating an ice pop called Vanilla Quickie from a company called “Lil’ Sugar.”
Neil was staring at me, so I gave him a show. I held the red berry ice pop up to my mouth. My lips were parted, and my tongue was slightly out. Like Lenny, I looked like I was panting from the heat. He was panting cause of the sun, but me, no, it was different. I was hungry for a big, hard cock. In my mind, I was getting it. I was panting as I brought the big, dripping ice pop toward by open mouth. I licked from the very bottom of the shaft all the way to the top while staring into Neil’s eyes. As I repeated this full-length lick while holding the stick at the base I craned my head left and right. Then I put the tip in my mouth and sucked on it. It was so cold against my lips. My hot tongue melted the frozen cream. I pulled it out, “Yum!” I said. The cream was sweet and tasty.
“You’re too much,” he answered.
“Am I?” I taunted him. I shoved the entire length of the thing into my mouth until the ice pop disappeared into the back of my throat. Only the stick was hanging out from my closed lips. I stared at Neil and he looked annoyed. I put on my sad puppy eyes and then pulled the length of it back out of my mouth. In a sweet baby voice I said, “Baby wishes she had something bigger and harder to suck on.”
“Baby!” Neil chided me. He looked down into his ice cream. “Come on, you’re not a whore!”
I laughed. “Okay, you’re no fun, you know that?”
I ate “properly” the rest of the way, peering out at the boring, quaint town of South Pampton. We strolled home, slowly. Lenny was still panting. I looked down at him understandingly. I had been bitten. It was done. Between the hunk whose hands never touched me, the ice pop, and the nasty feeling in my gut, I had to do something.
I tried to let this feeling pass. It just wouldn’t go away. I would be at the supermarket in the aisle with the chocolate syrup and imagine the stock boy spraying it all over my chest. I would be reading a book in the bookstore and want to rip off my clothes and finger myself right there with the book resting on my pelvis.
While with Neil in the copy shop I wanted to be railed by the automaton making a photo copy of one of his geek achievements, something or other about being the Renegade Music Pirate of the Year or something I didn’t care about. All the machines pounded in their robotic, repetitive back and forth. It was too much for me. I wanted to be railed by an automaton. I wanted a fucking machine to do me over and over again until I was trembling. I was jealous of the sex life of a room full of copy machines. I mean, I was so aroused by all this copying that I would have let R2D2 finger me with his gyroscope thingy that plugs in and cracks imperial codes while C3PO diddled my ass with his gold-tipped toe.
That night I went for a bike ride. I rode to Lorna Morris’ house. Her boyfriend was in the back fixing a broken outdoor table umbrella. The shaft was stuck in through the hole of an outdoor table and jammed stuck in the base. I imagined the solid wood shaft of the umbrella going in and out of the hole in the table. Everything was sexy. I was wet. Not damp. Wet. Unbearably wet. Everything was sex.
Inside, I saw Lorna adding the last bits of clothes to the laundry basket.
I sat on the washing machine and spread my legs. I moved to the dryer, which was shaking like a lucky girl getting cunnilingus. I felt the shake and the warmth and inched that much closer to climax. When Lorna came in and saw me legs spread on her bucking machine she threw the basket to the ground. The dirty clothes spilled out everywhere. She got down and let her amazing tongue relieve the pussy-ache. She worked magic on my swollen clit. Tongue, lips, teeth, everything she did felt great. The machine buzzed and whirred to a shaky cataclysmic stop. It vibrated. Lorna licked. She fingered. She teased. My orgasm built and built and built some more.
I was on the verge of squirting across the room. Her boyfriend burst in, I guess he’d heard the buzz, and seeing him and his bulging muscles sent me over the edge. I grabbed the shelf above me so hard I dislodged it from the wall. As I came, I got showered in cascading fabric softener sheets. “So you finally seduced her, Lorn,” her boyfriend said. He walked back out, leaving the laundry room door wide open.
I rode back home feeling the bicycle seat under me. My sex was pushing against the seat like I was neatly in the right place. Orgasm had cleared my thoughts. I was calm. I knew what I had to do.
(continue reading this hot Asian-American Romance – I Am Not a Whore, At Least Not Yet by Emme Hor)
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Emme’s To Do List: Have someone write “I Am Not a Whore” in cum on my bust and photograph! Who do I know that cums that much?
TRIVIA/FUN FACT: Later cum erupts out of a cock, drips down the shaft, and looks like vanilla ice cream dripping down a cone.
Links to Naughty Vids That Remind and Inspire this Excerpt:
Miko Dai (aka my stunt double)
Older Asian MILF (aka my stunt double of the very near future)