1948 – Futa Boxing Gym 2 (Quest for the Magic Jump Rope) by Moctezuma Johnson

1948-Science-Fiction-Fantasy-Futa-Smutpunk-Erotica-Bestseller

1948 – Futa Boxing Gym 2 (Quest for the Magic Jump Rope) by Moctezuma Johnson

I’d like to share a new Futa Boxing Science-Fiction & Fantasy Erotica book that I think you’ll love. As Tamara McLanahan says, “This book will show you why Moctezuma Johnson wears the Smutpunk Crown.”

Blurb:

“This Magic Jump Rope Heals All Ills”

The jump rope is fraying. With Minae’s marriage on the rocks, the rope is the only thing that can save her. She and the keepers of the rope band together and encounter characters and obstacles that will test Minae’s character, resolve, and desire.

Is all this trouble worth it to save a marriage? Probably not, but Minae’s finds out the safety of planet Earth is on the line. In a race against time, Minae must rely on dubious allies and former enemies to save the Magic Rope from a once in a lifetime catastrophic futanaria event. Can she suck it up and deal? She’s going to have to.

1948-Science-Fiction-Fantasy-Futa-Smutpunk-Erotica-Bestseller

4-star review of Futadelic by Jordan Jones

4-star review of Futadelic by Jordan Jones

on August 26, 2015
Format: Kindle Edition

Excerpt of 1948

1948 – The Futa Boxing Gym

By Moctezuma “The” Johnson

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Blog Header Art – “Yukio” by Almeidap (used with permission)

Summary

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.

They were ethnic Koreans living in Japan. During the war, all the lines had gotten blurry of who was who and what was what and what belonged to who. Nut sacks falling from the sky would get your attention, no matter what race you’re from. You don’t even need to be an earthling. This quote is attributed to Cthulhu himself in the rocky islands where no one is sure whether they’re Korean or Japanese: “When nut sacks fall from the sky, armageddon is upon us.” So, these ethnically Korean/Japanese chanted to prevent utter destruction of their country. Times were tough. Food was scarce. Ramen with spam was all they could scrounge. They boiled the ramen and spam and chanted.

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.”

“Futa?”

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

So this middle-aged bald dude came into the gym on a crisp fall day. A young obedient  guy at the counter got him all set for his first workout. It was your standard check-in. “How did you find us?”

“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!”

“How?”

“Do you jump rope?” said the young trainer. The question seemed to carry some eerie ulterior motive.

futa-boxing-gym

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.

futa-boxing-gym

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.

futa-boxing-gym

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!

futa-boxing-gym

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.

No dick.

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.

Nothing.

No dick.

“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.”

“That’s the least of our problems during a scrotum rain. Too bad Ki-Moon is no longer with us.” He gathered his thoughts. “To the car, student!”

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.

They ate.

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.  

 

 The Party

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.  

 

After Bliss 

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 by Bestselling FUTA Erotica on Amazon

 

Book Review of FB Slutcake – FutaBerry Slutcake by Bryce Calderwood

book-review-smutpunk-bryce-calderwood-moctezuma-johnson2

Futaberry Slutcake: Welcome to Futaberry Patch: A futa-on-futa, genderswap, lactation futanari erotica (Corrupted Cartoonz: Futaberry Patch Book 1)

I saw Bryce Calderwood (Michael Maritine) posting on the Nu Romantics and was impressed by his wit and intelligence. I downloaded two of his books, the [ambryce-calderwood-futaberryazon text=Demon’s Embrace: Futanari Apocalypse 1&asin=B00XTH3S3C] and Futaberry Slutcake: Welcome to the Futaberry Patch. I read them in that order and enjoyed the first thoroughly. However, the second one really hit a button on me. First off, it was so sexy. All the futanari are drippy, horny, sexy, tasty, and bulging all over the place. He really takes his time explaining each character and his/her needs and wants and fears and tastes. It makes each sex scene quite powerful.

Major Spoiler Alert

The premise is that the narrator goes into some freaky kind of pawn shop and ends up with a magic drawing pad that turns his futanari drawings into real life. Best of all from this transformation ( that even Dr. Engle would be proud of) is that the narrator himself becomes a sexy, curvy, drippy, horny futanari himself. He becomes Futaberry Slutcake. And when others eat Futaberry’s cum,

what do you think it would taste like? Futaberry, right? Nope. Mr. Calderwood is too smart for that. I mean, there’s no such fucking thing as a futaberry for fuck’s sake. It tastes like apple, silly. The way the story is told with it’s nostalgia creeping into things from the pawn shop to the old drawing tablet and Bryce’s subtle humor lying in the squirting dildo’d weeds makes this a quick, enjoyable, sexy read.

Two Dicks Up / Two Cocks Up

That’s the hardest rating to get, incidentally.

Dick Rating: Two dicks up!

Literary Value: Steven Queen out of Steven King. Fantastic dialogue. Humor. FUTAs. ‘Nuff said.

Overall Score: 5 out of 5 stars

The Smutpunk Dictionary – a must for readers of smut in any of its forms

smutpunk-dictionary

Get the vocabulary you deserve with the SMUTPUNK Dictionary

Scribes! Where have my scribes gone? Are they having a futa orgy again. A hyperfuta orgy. I need the scribes to organize and alphabetize this, please. Tell him as soon as he finishes eating his “soup,” thanks. 

 

Alternate Facts – Some Bizarro Presidency Orwellian Double Talk. (See Sample)

Average Fuckers – In an effort to keep my wife happy, I’m no longer calling 99% of the world morons and instead trying to be more accurate by calling them average. I say it with tons of hidden malice. Well, the malice ain’t hidden to the dot-connectors, bless their depraved coal-hearts.

Bagpiping – Using a chick’s armpit as a way to pleasure cock. She has to push down from the elbow in the same manner as pressing the bladder when playing the bagpipes. The more sweaty the sex the better, as the sweat is like lube. This is a great plan D if the a chick’s primary holes are in use. (learn more)

Black Swan – A term used to express an unlikely event that you may want to prepare for just in case it does occur. Example: Before the human race archived the black swan, people thought there was no such thing as a black swan. Most people incorrectly believed black swans were as real as unicorns. Now we know they do, in fact, exist. Stock market crashes, cataclysmic events, and things getting lodged up your ass and needing emergency room assistance may all classify as black swan events.

Bokep (Bahasa Indonesia) to watch pornography. 1. (pornographic film) – originated from abbreviation BF which means Blue Film. BF is read Beh-Ef, which in its pidgin form is read as Beh-Ep. The slang word Bokep is obtained by inserting ok in between Beh-Ep. (new)

Bukkake – when a submissive woman is lucky enough to be worshiped by the splooge of many men. In ancient times she often committed suicide after all the men present jizzed on her to save her family shame. Now bukkakes are often accompanied by the transfer of large sums of money. Whether or not our very own Emme Hor has participated in one can be neither confirmed nor denied.

Bullshit Society – A society in which Bullshit is Truth, Truth Bullshit. Bullshit becomes the official language of this society. They will speak Bullshit (much as George Orwell predicted in 1984 with his concept of “doublespeak”). Turn on FOX news (and many other sources) for a taste. (See quote below right)George Orwell-1984-boot-on-face-smutpunk-quote

Clear Heels – the required footwear of sluts all over the planet and universe. When men find a girl wearing these heels they can rest assured that they are in for a good time (similar items are hoop earrings, g-strings, and pink scrunchies).

Dot-Connectors – People able to connect seemingly random, unconnectable ideas. Average Fuckers often mistake this awesome ability as random. Smutpunkists taste the awesome sauce in it.

Match of the Centuries – the epic battle between Butterface and Princess Chuckhole (See flyer).

Miss Lonely Hearts – This is the female straggler found in many bars and clubs who is pretty much good to go. Most guys can sit down with her, probably not even buy her a drink yet take her home and pound her until something gives, like a sink, a penis bone, or a pelvis. Often Miss Lonely Hearts makes a really top notch one night stand. She usually shows good manners, good hygiene, and good skills drinking, taking drugs, and in the sack.

MJism /Em-Jissэm/ – a word and thought made by Dr. Moctezuma Johnson. (new)

Fictophilia – a condition involving an irrevocable and passionate love for a fictional character. In fact, 60% of singles surveyed said they prefer a fictional book boyfriend to a living breathing male.

Futa – ‘futa’ is short for futanari. A futanari is a women with fully functioning male genitalia in addition to fully functioning female genitalia. She’s an aggregate of sexy. In other words, she’s a woman with a large cock. A dick girl. (See Reed James, Sally Bend, Bryce Calderwood, and my futanari books for more)

Splooge the magical liquid that spews from cock jerked to satisfaction. The very life force of the universe. The stuff that flows through Planet Alien Relish. The material for which Butterface is in an obsessive and violent search.

Spunk – See splooge

Smutpunk – It’s erotica with plot that mixes forms from such varied sources as magic realism, science fiction, and Asian kung fu movies. In the same way most other punks use some common thing to glue them together, smutpunk uses the most basic protein of all to create its own panspermia universe, mixing pop-culture, erotica, the Cthulhu mythos, Far East legends, and Non-Western spirituality with Science Fiction, Pulp, and Silver-Age-Comic era elements into a head spinning, ball-busting good time.

The Buttplug Mantel – Where Liam, aka That Fucker, keeps his trophy case of used buttplugs with little exhibit label flags like a museum that explain the who, what, where, why, how of the butt plug displayed. Some executives have slayed animals, others have athletic trophies, That Fucker has the butt plug mantel. (Read about it)

The Five Hive – Also known as the Fuck Force Five, these ladies are sexy, latex-clad, highly-trained Women-in-Black (WiB) agents tasked with keeping the Earth safe from extraterrestrials. They are trained in advanced fucking, quantum physics, and rappelling down giant dildos. Each of the five has a specialty.

The Smutpunk Lexicon – a dictionary of the tasty words peppered on your smutpunk.

Tudung – a headscarf worn by Malay women. (see more)tudung-titties

Hyperfuta – a futa with a cock the size of a car.

PAAG – Phat Ass Asian Girl. An Asian chick with a big, juicy phat ass. (See PAAG tumblr site)

PAWG – Phat Ass White Girl. A white chick with a big, juicy phat ass! (See PAWG tumblr site)

Phallogyne – A broader grouping of Futa, Traps, Transgenders, and other peoples with penises. Roxy Katt says, “A phallogyne is basically a woman with a penis.  This is a catch-all category that includes (but is not limited to) futanari, “shemales,” and transwomen who have had genital reassignment surgery.  Phallogyne” can refer to any real or fictional person who just naturally has basically a woman’s body but with a penis.  How she got the penis (naturally, surgically, by magical transformation, etc.) does not affect her status as a phallogyne. Whether there are testicles or not does not change the fact the person is a phallogyne, and whether she has a vagina or not in addition to the penis does not change her status as a phallogyne. Defining the term as widely as possible, “phallogyne” can also include male to female transvestites.”

SMUTPUNK Freedom Flag – The movement’s flag of freedom to spunk! (See Image)

Trump Butt Plug – Words cannot describe this Commander-in-Cheeks. (See Trump Butt Plug)

Yoga Pants – Really tight pants hot chicks wear to attract alpha males like bees to the honey pot. (see example)

 

 

If you’d like a word added, just leave it in the comments below and I’ll see what I can do. 

Please Share This Post and Educate the World. It all starts with education.

Futa Face Fucking Throat Violation and a Selfie | #LPRTG

Jane's Steak and BJ Surprise

Futa Face Fucking Throat Violation and a Selfie

Here are a few images and a link to a one of my better FUTA novelettes, Futadelic. Enjoy!

Get Futadelic with a fun, futa Moctezuma Johnson book

^.^

Futadelic - The Power of Potion

Futadelic – The Power of Potion

Hot Futa Cum Craze

serlfie

 

 

 

An excerpt from FUTADELIC by Moctezuma Johnson

Futanari Mayhem

This is an excerpt from Futadelic — the Power of Potion. If you enjoy this free bit, please spend a couple of dollars to support me and my writing. Thanks.
Also, if you want to read it and you’re broke, just send me an email and I’ll probably be kind enough to gift one to you. 

Futadelic

 Moctezuma Johnson

 

 

 

This is the kind of story that twelve year olds tell each other in the locker room. It is a cautionary tale, out of the desire to understand how hormones could suddenly take hold of their bodies. This like the story Jessica overheard her mother talking about, who then told her best friend Sam, who told Jill, who told Helena, who told Zuri, who told her boyfriend Jack, to slow him down when he was trying to feel her up for the first time. Jack told Dan, who told Timmy, and now the whole school, town, city, and country knew of this woman who was part man. Some say it isn’t true. Some say they know the people. Some say it’s something you should never talk about. Some shush you when you start.

 

Bangkok, Thailand

 

Ao was a bar-girl, thus the one-syllable nickname. She worked at Foxy Diablo. You know, one of those bars where the girls sit and flag foreigners to come in and buy them lady’s drinks. They play Connect Four, dice, or who can bang a nail into a big log. Lucky for Ao, she really liked tequila shots. This made her the premier girl at the bar. Also, she had killer eye-hand coordination that could hit the nail on the hammer while the foreigners struggled, which meant more drinks, more tips, more money to send back home. Cancer was not cheap. Mom needed money, guys needed pussy—and so the merry-go-round kept turning.

 

Futadelic

Click the Book to Buy

Sasha was a doctor at the local clinic. She worked in a small room in the same building with a big crap store. This was where all the foreigners came to buy garish statues of the Buddha, elephants, silk that would make Jim Thompson turn over in his grave, junky pool cues, knock off electronics, and other crap. The doctor’s office was a place people went because they had to go. In a land of sex tourism the results were sometimes negative and that was positive, but when they were positive that was quite negative. Just this morning the doctor had fingered two slides that showed two positively unlucky bargirls had contracted HIV.

Once a week Ao went to the doctor to make sure she didn’t have anything. Today, she walked in and had her blood taken. Sasha showed her the results for the two unlucky girls and told her to be careful. Sasha was lucky, Ao thought. Sasha was a Russian immigrant and good-looking. White women had choices. Thai girls from the provinces didn’t. Ao could have stayed and been her mom’s nurse, or she could spread her legs and let men enjoy themselves on her and then hope her next life Buddha would be kind. After all Ao had been through, she was due for a life of royalty. Or at least life as a man. Damn, men had it easy. Their biggest responsibilities were holding their protrusions when then peed. Hold your cock right and you’re set. For women it was complicated.

 

Peter was a scientist from Germany. He’d been tasked with some weird business about growing appendages. The French government had hired him to help Cambodians with missing limbs due to the land mines stepped on since the 70s. It had to do with the war, land mines, and how they could help victims. There was a way to grow and regrow parts of the body. Think crabs. Think starfish. Think snakes. He was charged with doing the same for humans. This was no ordinary problem. From France, he was dispatched to a country—which always changes in the retelling of the story—you know which one, the one where laws are bent and human rights are optional.

In the Far East, Peter’s research really took flight. Sure, he grew ears where legs should be and gave women who had lost their hands the hairy hands of a man, but he was making superb progress. This was the real thing. He was on to something. He just needed one more little bit. He needed one more ingredient. His company sent him to Bangkok where the final part was available, if the rumors were true. Bangkok was the only place in the world where the completion of his project was possible. Thanks to politics—something about Laos and Cambodia and the French occupation of Vietnam years ago—he had to sneak into the country under a fake name. (If you try to verify this man existed, you will come up empty). In Bangkok, Peter could stumble on greatness. All he had to do was get his hands on the red liquid.

 

Ao was on her third shot of tequila when she saw him. He was completely shaven, even his eyebrows. Although he had piercing eyes he had a friendly smile. She saw him checking her out and knew immediately that he was going to “barfine” her. The bars collected money to let the girl go for the night, money that the bar would ostensibly make on the drinks the girl would get men to buy. But before the “barfine”, Peter and Ao had to play their roles. He had to buy her a few drinks. He had to win at Connect Four and lose at the nail game. He had to buy her and the mama a drink. He had to answer questions about Germany, about the value of the Euro, explain that he was a scientist here to get something. He had to pay her bar fine.

He took her by the hand and led her toward his hotel.

Peter and Ao passed a pretty Thai woman who worked at the hotel. She was rushing into the kitchen, where a tall white chef was waiting with his arms folded. The chef looked annoyed. Peter noticed that the chef was hiding a hard on. The tall, gorgeous receptionist had eyes like the girls on the walls of the old pyramids in Giza. Behind her was a wooden letter box and an old analog clock with chipped paint. There was an altar to Buddha in the corner with sweet incense burning. Ao checked in with her ID card and Peter had to sign a notebook with dog-eared corners.

The hotel was the Thai version of a Disney Polynesian resort, or vice versa. There was a central pool and bungalows sprouted around it. Theirs was on the south side of the village.   In the room, Ao enjoyed talking to Peter who rambled on and on now about this being the best trip of his life because of something he had found. She inspected the room. There was a bed against a wall. Behind the wall was a bathroom. Beside the bed were two night tables with lamps. There was a sitting chair and coffee table with a box of tissues on it.

She sat in the chair, lifted her shirt and put her breasts in Peter’s mouth. “Take this, sir,” she said. The window was open. Tiki lamps lit the courtyard in the darkness where a tall Thai woman walked briskly. An even taller white man, the hotel chef, followed her. He was holding something in his hand. They both looked angry. Clearly they were dating and in the middle of an argument.

Ao started daydreaming about dating. Really dating, not having some guy she just met sucking her titties. She could see herself with an Australian guy. He needn’t be great looking but he had to be nice. She could then be free of all this trouble. She might even get her mom to a great doctor and cured.

She was in her fantasy so deep she didn’t notice Peter had stopped suckling on her tits. Her brown nipples hung in the air and he was now holding a vial of red liquid, which he subsequently poured on her lips. He smiled and told her, “I’m going to provide you the best life you could have ever wished for.” His smile was soft and caring. She felt a bit dizzy. It was like the Buddha had spoken to her. The red liquid was warm on her and tasted like bee pollen, mint leaves, and tar.

The Power of Potion

 

Ao heard someone playing the ranat ek, a traditional Thai instrument. It sounded like a woody xylophone. Somewhere a dog barked. She could hear the wind. Or was that the ocean? Where was she?

As a kid, Ao wanted to be a dancer. She saw the traditional Lao dance and was hooked. She was talented. Then her mom had to stop work when they found out she was terminal.

The ranat ek kept playing. It was repetitive, circular. Elliptical, like it was suspended, playing to the orbits of the planets. She tasted red. A dog barked again. It shook its head and she heard its collar.

She was floating over the ocean. The waves and their crests flowed beneath her.

Ao woke up at home. She couldn’t remember how she got there. Tequila. Why did she like it? She could taste that she had been drinking it. She was foggy. Her ears echoed, like the ocean had jumped into them. Her vision was sharp and crisp. Though foggy, she wasn’t sleepy at all. She felt something pulling her awake. She felt like she needed to do something, like she needed to release built up tension. She had something and it needed to be released. She never felt anything like this before. She noticed the covers sitting on her body. She felt a quick panic. The image of a man with a shaved head flashed in her mind. She felt her breast, where Peter had sucked, and everything was normal. As soon as her hand grazed her nipple it got hard. It was weird, like she was being touched, but it was her own hand. Tequila.

Something was wrong. The sheets were like a tent. Was someone in bed with her? She threw off the covers and that’s when she saw it.

 

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Moctezuma Repents for his Porn Peddling Ways, but seriously can’t a Husband Suck His Wife’s Cock Anymore?

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Steak & Blowjob Short Story

Jane’s Steak and Blowjob Night Surprise

If you didn't already know that 3/14 was Steak & Blowjob Day that drop what you're doing and start fingering your pussy because, well, shame on you!

If you didn’t already know that 3/14 was Steak & Blowjob Day that drop what you’re doing and start fingering your pussy because, well, shame on you!

futanari-sluts-free_1I probably have overdone it here and there with all these dildos in deserts and women with massive, animated cocks but the truth is the world is too censored. Maybe I’m all jacked up. I mean I did run a bar for the last 5 years. I’ve been basically the bailiff of a medieval dungeon. My brain cannot be normal, can it?

That said, I’m a good citizen. Very. I hold doors for women, compliment people when they’re polite, and porn peddle blowjob porn and steak and BJ gunge. Also, I’ve broken up fights repeatedly, stopped guys from murdering other guys, and I’m on the shy side, ultimately. Anyways.

This is the last piece to cause the ruckus:

Husband goes down on wife
Can’t a husband even suck his wife’s cock anymore?

If you think the answer should be, “Yes, he can” then, please, have a quick read of Jane’s Steak and BJ Night Surprise and let me know what you think with a short review. Thank you so much!

Futanari Video

Futa

If you like Futanari, you should enjoy this video:

 Read Futanari Erotica

Since you liked this Futanari Video, you may find yourself in the mood to read some futanari, gunge erotica by Moctezuma Johnson. Please check out Jane’s Steak & Blowjob Night Surprise. (Remember to Mouse-Over the link to pull up the link for different countries)

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