Groupie (Futa/F, oral)

Story by GoingInside

Hey, y'all. Been a while since I posted anything on here, and, to be honest, I'm not sure this is the best thing to post at this time. I'm not gonna' lie, this story is derivative. It's inspired quite obviously by koba_yashi's highly recommended short story, "Easy." Groupie is a look at a very similar situation from the other side. Part gift, part homage, here it is, hope you enjoy.

The familiar feelings of shame and of embarassment had long ago become just another flavor in the experience, something to revel in and savor rather than something to be pushed aside or ignored. Heather had learned that, no matter how many times she found herself stepping into Club Python, wearing her most revealing clothes and putting herself on the market as blatantly as she did, there was a part of her that quailed at the thought. That meek segment of her mind that demanded she show some self-respect and not parade herself around in places like this was, secretly, one of the most appealing things about doing so.

Most other girls had the sense to not frequent the club. Most girls, but not all. There was always some competition in the building, willing or not: Girls like Heather, who actively sought it out; curious ones that wanted to see what all the fuss was about; the occasional male with unconventional tastes; and the unlucky ones that stumbled in on accident. Their fate was all the same. One way or another, every person in that club was going to end up sexually used in some way by the primary occupants.

Club Python was an open secret in this part of town, a place where futanari, newhalf girls, and she-males could congregate with others of their kind. It had started with just the dickgirls and their partners, but, over time, it drew people like Heather like moths to a flame. People with a fascination, an obsession, a lust for dickgirls. Heather could not stay away, she simply had to experience them, to see their uniformly beautiful figures, the perfect combination of feminine curvature and masculine power. Dickgirls were sexual creatures by their very nature, and that was a large part of their appeal.

Hence the secret shame Heather felt whenever she went to the club. She was there for one reason, and one reason only: To get fucked by one of the incredibly sexy women inside. And those women knew it, looking at her with open leers, grins, whistles, and lurid suggestions. Heather was an attractive girl by any measure with her stlyish strawberry blonde hair and her slender form soft and curvy, though she was slightly under average height, which made the many amazonian women that surrounded her even more intimidating. Still, though she was used to being ogled wherever she went, only here could it turn her legs wobbly and make her already moist pussy dampen with fresh wetness.

The club featured special rooms to be used by couples who couldn't wait to get home, not to mention the bathrooms, which were more often than not occupied by dickgirls fucking their chosen partner or partners, but that didn't stop some of the girls from taking their pleasure out in the main room, though they had just enough decency to do their business in the corners. Heather could see them and hear them, though, which only made her hornier. She'd been one of those girls many times, feeling the thrill of exhibitionism as some gorgeous woman with a massive, throbbing cock bent her over a barstool and fucked her brains out in time with the beat of the music.

Heather shivered at the memories. Sometimes, the woman would walk away after shooting her load, leaving her half naked and satisfied, cum leaking out of her stretched pussy, on full display for anyone who turned their head to look. At least until another dickgirl decided to take advantage of her vulnerability and take over where the last one had left off. This was their territory, and no one would bother to stop them. Besides, Heather had been around here long enough to develop a bit of a reputation. She'd been with a lot of the women around her, some of them multiple times. She flushed at the thought, suddenly unable to look up at the appreciative eyes upon her.

Which explained why she didn't see the woman in front of her until they had almost collided. Heather raised her head, her eyes tracking along a pair of long, tanned legs that led up into an extremely short skirt, a bare midriff, and top that barely contained a pair of perfect tits that would be the envy of many a girl. Heather blinked at the sight, mouth watering, then looked up even further to a smirking smile set on an angular, dangerously pretty face. A familiar face set in a waterfall of lustrous dark hair.

A pair of dark eyes raked over Heather's body, obviously mentally undressing her. “Well if it isn't my little fuck-toy,” the dickgirl said, her smirk deepening.

“Hey, Kris,” Heather mumbled breathlessly, her body betraying her mental state. She shifted from one foot to another, unable to meet Kristina's eyes, he

... more on the forums ...