Authors: Reed James
“Oh, God!” I moaned.
“Take it!” Veronica grunted, shoving that cock deep into me. “Take it, futa slut! Let me feel your White-girl ass cumming about my big, Black dick!”
“I'm about to!”
“Cum!” she hissed in my ear, plunging her fingers faster in and out of my pussy. “Cum, my little, futa slut!”
Her big, futa dick slammed deep into my abused asshole, her fingers brushed my G-spot buried deep in my drenched pussy, and her other fingers pinched my hard nipple. Sensations gathered, merged, and overcame me.
I exploded.
My ass clenched hard on her invading cock.
My pussy spasmed about her questing fingers.
“Oh, fuck, yes!” I screamed as I came.
Pleasure suffused my pussy, then radiated through my body. A glorious heat that ignited every nerve and sent every muscle I had spasming. I gasped and cried, my legs buckling, and only Veronica's strong arms held me upright as she kept driving her big dick into my ass.
“Little, futa slut!” she grunted. “I love feeling your delectable ass cumming on my cock!”
Her dick kept thrusting, and another wave of passion tore through my body, another ripple of wonderful heat. I never wanted this to end. I was in Heaven. I reached Nirvana. I was one with my pleasure. My ass spasmed, milking her, eager to feel her cum jet into me.
“Fuck!” she howled. “I love White-girl ass!”
Delicious, creamy warmth flooded my bowels. Veronica drove her cock in me one last time, pressing her body against mine, her large breasts were two soft pillows on my back. Her chin rested on my shoulder, and her breath was warm on my cheek as she panted.
“That was the best job training I've ever received,” I moaned.
“Uh-huh,” she sighed. “And I still got a whole lot more to teach you!”
The rest of the weekend was a blur of sex and training. I finally learned what a nuru massage was—wonderfully erotic. I gained a pretty good mastery over my futa cock, and was able to make it through most of a session before I lost control and had to fuck my client. By Sunday evening, Veronica pronounced me ready to tackle my first customer.
When Monday morning came, I marched straight into Mr. Edward's office. “You can't go in there!” squeaked Stephanie, his secretary. I ignored her.
Mr. Edwards looked up in surprise and, before he could start shouting, I looked my boss straight in the eye, declaring, “I quit.”
“What?” the asshole spluttered. “You can't quit! We need you to finish the Johnson audit today!”
I shrugged. “Oh, well. I found a better job. I'm a futa masseuse now.”
“What the fuck is that?” he demanded as I turned and strode out of his office. “Melody! Get your ass—” I slammed his office door behind him. A huge weight seemed to fall from my shoulders; I walked with a straight back for the first time in...I don't know how long. I was free of my terrible job.
Mr. Edward's wife was waiting outside his office, standing beside Stephanie's desk. She was a gorgeous, petite, Japanese woman, face framed by straight, blue-black hair that fell to her waist. I pulled out one my new business cards Mandy had whipped up for me yesterday, handing it to her. She blinked, looking down at it, her eyebrows creasing.
“First one's on the house, Yurika. If you're ever stressed, come on by.” I bet her husband stresses her out a lot.
“Oh, thank you, Melody” she said, politely taking the card and looked at it. “Maybe I'll stop by later on today. I always enjoy receiving a massage.”
“And our massages are
very
special,” I grinned. Making my ex-boss's wife my futa slut would be an amazing severance package.
“Then I'll definitely come by,” she promised, her smile lighting up her porcelain face.
“I'm looking forward to it!” I grinned, and left my job behind, never looking back.
To be continued...
Futanari Massage 4
(A Story of the Aphrodite Sisterhood Universe)
by
Reed James
I sat in the break room at my new job, Ms. Futa 'N Ari's Massage Parlor, staring at the clock and trying to keep my spirits up. My first day was turning into a huge disappointment. I had quit my job this morning, thoroughly burning that bridge and expecting to make several thousand dollars a day here.
It was almost 5 PM and I've had no clients.
“Customers have their favorites,” Linda consoled, reaching over to pat my hand. She was the masseuse that had introduced me to this wonderful world of women with dicks. Because of her amazing massage last week, I had been inducted into the Sisterhood of Aphrodite, swearing to worship the Goddess of Love and Beauty in exchange for my very own futa cock.
Now if the goddess would only give me a customer or three.
“Just be patient. You'll build your clients.”
The break room's phone rang. My heart picked up its beat; hope blossomed inside me. Linda and I were the only masseuses free. This could be—
“Oh! I love giving her a massage!” squealed Linda into the phone, her free hand toying with one of her pigtails.
Disappointment crushed me.
Linda hung up and stood, her breasts jiggling beneath her sky-blue, silk robe that clung to her perky body and only fell to her mid-thigh, leaving the rest of her tanned and gorgeous legs exposed. I wore a matching, lavender robe and, like Linda, nothing else underneath.
“Sorry, Melody,” she sighed, leaning down to hug me. “It's like this at first. Be patient.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. I just needed patients. And clients.
She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek then dashed out of the room. Another sigh escaped me, and I sat back into the plush love seat. A hopeful thought was born: if there was another 5 PM massage booked today, then they would have to choose me—there were no other masseuses available right now.
I perked up.
Becky, the blonde co-owner of the parlor, burst into the break room, her massive tits swinging like a pair of pendulums beneath her teal, silk robe. Her hair was damp, so she had probably just finished a shower massage.
My hope died a little. I had competition again. While the clients were book ahead of time, they couldn't reserve a specific masseuse. It was designed to help new girls like me get clients, but today was a slower day, and the parlor hadn't been booked to capacity. With Becky here, the odds of me getting the next client were slim to nil.
“Phew, that was a purtee client I just serviced,” sighed Becky in her thick and sultry southern drawl, plopping down next to me; apricot body wash filled my nose.
I smiled politely at her.
“Now, Sugar, what bee has gone and stung your purtee bottom?”
Guess I hadn't smile politely enough. “I just haven't had a client, yet.”
“Oh, sugar, I'm so sorry.” She put her arm around my shoulders. “Don't you fret. Soon you'll be attractin' clients like flies to honey.”
“I know. It's just so...”
“Frustratin'?”
I nodded my head. “I thought it would be different. That I'd show up and women would be magically lined up around the block eager for what I'm packing between my thighs.”
She laughed, pushing back her golden, wet hair off her shoulders. “Me and Simone thought the very same thing when we first opened up. We almost went out of business three times that first year.”
I almost couldn't believe that. Becky and Simone, co-owners and spouses, seemed to have a thriving business and it was hard to imagine that they had struggled at all. “Yeah, I guess. I'm just getting worried about paying my bills.” The divorce was wiping out my savings as my soon-to-be-ex-husband and I wrangled over the smallest things. It was petty, but he had hurt me so much.
“Now don't you fret. Me and Simone have plans for you, Sugar. We'll take care of you.”
“What plans?”
“We're plannin' on expandin' later this year, and we think you're the perfect person to run our second establishment.”
I blinked. “Really? Why? I'm so new at all this.”
“You got a business degree, Sugar. Which is more than the rest of us can—”
The phone rang. Becky reached for it and I knew they'd be wanting my blonde boss. None of the customers knew me yet. For $400, no one wanted to gamble on an untried pleasure if they didn't have to. Besides, Becky and Simone, the other owner and Becky's wife, were the most popular masseuses. Becky was so lively and fun, with blonde hair and big-tits, and Simone was so mysterious and sultry, graceful as a ballerina and as sensual as the starry sky—how could I compete with that with my boring, brown hair and average-sized breasts?
“How wonderful!” my boss exclaimed, turning to me, a broad smile covering her face, and held out the phone. “Looks like the sun has come out to shine on you today, Sugar!”
My hand shook as I took the phone. “Hello,” I said, mustering all the confidence I could, treating it like a meeting at my old job. A corporate warrior, especially a woman, had to always be confident and unafraid or the sharks would pull you down.
“You have your first client!” Mandy, the receptionist, exclaimed. “She's a first timer. One of your freebies. Her name is Yurika.”
The sun was shining on me and I couldn't help grinning as excitement radiated inside me. Before coming in to work today, I had handed a few business cards promising a free massage from myself to try and drum up a few clients. I had given one to Jennifer, my best friend and the woman that had introduced me to this place, and a few of the other ladies at my work.
“You know her?” Mandy asked, then I heard a smacking sound like she had hit her forehead. “Course you know her, you gave her a freebie card.”
“Yeah, she's my ex-boss's wife.”
Mandy laughed. “Well, she's requested the nuru massage.”
I flushed and my clitoris tingled, starting to engorge into a futa dick. I concentrated, and forced my clitoris to shrink back down. Yurika was so beautiful, and after years of metaphorically being fucked by my boss, it would be nice to literally fuck his wife. I was going to cuckold my boss!
It's why I gave her the card after quitting.
“Does she know what a nuru massage is?”
“Nope. I recommended it to her though. You're welcome, Melody!”
“Thanks!” I shivered with the anticipation of rubbing my body against Yurika's. “Tell her, I'll be out in a few minutes.”
Becky's grin somehow seemed even larger. “A nuru massage, huh? You're gonna give her a good time, ain't ya?”
I beamed. “You bet! I'm going to love her in ways her husband could never be bothered to.” Mr. Edwards, my former boss, was always a complete, overbearing ass to Yurika, and I bet he had never given her an orgasm. Too selfish.
Well, she'll be getting one today!
“That's the spirit, sugar!” She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Go get her!”
I was so excited, I almost scampered out of the break room. There were only two nuru rooms in the parlor and I decided on room 9. It was decorated like a Japanese bath, or so Veronica had claimed, with wood decking and a tub set in the floor. Besides the tub was a small, wooden stool and a shower head attached to a small hose. Apparently, in Japan you washed yourself and then climbed into the bath.
First thing I did was pull out the air mattress and the small compressor. It hummed as soft as a whisper after I hooked it together and flipped the switch; the rubber of the mattress stretching as it inflated was far louder than the compressor. While it chugged away, I filled the bath with hot water, then opened up a cabinet full of scented candles.
Which scent should I choose for Yurika? She was a gentle, submissive woman. So something light and fresh. I grabbed several white, vanilla-scented candles and lit them, then scattered them about the room.
I inhaled; what a delicious scent!
The bath was filled, the air mattress was inflated, and the candles were lit. Everything was ready. I headed for the door and—
The nuru gel!
I still had to get the most important component of a nuru massage ready. I quickly filled a large, plastic bowl with the nuru gel, pouring from a large jug, not unlike an antifreeze container, and stuck the bowl in a microwave concealed in one of the cabinets, setting it on high for a one minute, thirty seconds, warming the gel.
When the microwave beeped, everything was ready.
I strode out of the room and marched down the hallway towards the door. Every step I took increased the growing panic in my stomach. I was going to mess it up. Yurika wouldn't let me seduce her. I'll get sued for sexual harassment and fired.
No! I needed to be confident. I needed to be a futa masseuse warrior, showing no fear or weakness.
I opened the door to the waiting area. It was well lit, suffused with a soothing, jasmine aroma, and furnished with comfortable chairs, a coffee table strewn with fashion and gossip magazines, a gorgeous fern, and a wall covered with the glossy photos of all the masseuses.
Yurika sat on one of those comfy chairs, leafing through a magazine, her legs crossed. She looked up, smiling shyly. She was petite, with a light-olive skin; her face was as delicate as porcelain, and framed by straight, blue-black hair that draped her shoulders. A white sundress, dotted with violet and blue flowers, hung loose on her body, the bodice sleeveless and the skirt falling past her knees.
It was such an innocent look. I was going to enjoy corrupting her.
“Yurika!” I exclaimed. “I'm so glad you came!”
She put the magazine down, standing up with the grace of a gazelle, her timid, angular eyes looking down. “Thank you for the generous offer.” Her voice was musical and her accent exotic.
“I think you've earned it!” For putting up with that husband. I didn't say that part out loud. I crossed over to her and put my hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Don't be nervous. We're going to have a nice, relaxing evening.”
She looked up and met my eyes with her dark pools surrounded by thick, black lashes; some of the tension melted out of her. “Okay.”
I slid my hand from her shoulder down her silky arm and took her hand; her fingers were delicate and warm. My clitoris tingled; I suppressed my growing dick. It wasn't time to spring that on her. She needed to be teased and titillated first.
“Does your husband know you're here?”
Her palm became clammy. “No.”
I squeezed her hand. “I won't tell him.”
“Thank you. He would not...” A flush darkened her cheeks and she looked away.
“I understand. I did quit on him today.” Without a two weeks notice, as well; it was such a happy moment.
“I do not blame you,” she added, her words rushed. “The way he treated you...it was understandable.”
I smiled, and led her out of the waiting room and into the hallway that led to all the massage rooms. “So, you've never had a nuru massage before?”
She shook her head. “Though I'm curious about what makes it slippery.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nuru,” she said. “It is Japanese for slippery.”
I laughed and grinned at her. “It is definitely slippery. The gel used is made from nori seaweed and is as slick as grease, but has no odor.”
Yurika giggled.
“Did I say it wrong?”
“Close. It is nori. Like 'no'. Not 'noori'.”
“Nori,” I carefully said and she nodded. “Thanks.” We reached room 9. “Well, here we are!” I opened the door.
“Wow!” she exclaimed as she peered into the candle-lit room, their faint, yellow light flickering and dancing on the wooden floor. “It is...”
“Relaxing?” I supplied. “Peaceful?”
“Er, yeah. Though they were not the words I was thinking of.”
“Intimate?”
She blushed and looked down.
“That's what makes it so relaxing,” I whispered, touching her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Melody.”
“Then relax, and let me give you a magical experience you'll remember for the rest of your life.”
She shivered. “You are so intense.”
“I just want to give you an amazing massage.”
“All right.”
I guided her by the shoulders into the vanilla-scented room, steam from the bath washing over us. She breathed in the fragrance and a smile spread on her cheeks. I let go of her and closed the door then, as Yurika walked further into the room, I slipped off my silk robe, the fabric rasping across my nipples and sending tingles of pleasure straight down to my aching clitoris.
She turned and I was ready for her eyes to widen in shock at the sight of my lush, naked body. Aphrodite had gifted me with more than a cock, she had also tightened everything up. My skin was as flawless as it had been at eighteen, and a certain amount of perkiness had returned to my breasts, along with the disappearance of some cellulite from my rear.
“Should I undress as well, Melody?” she asked, nonplussed by my nudity.
That was it? No shock or outrage for me to overcome. No cute, innocent blushes painting her cheeks with crimson. I didn't even have to seduce her out of her clothes. Disappointment soured inside me; I had been so looking forward to putting all of Veronica's seduction tips to use.