The Path I Choose. (male on futa, masturbation, moderate underage, multi-chapter)

Story by Kuroshio

The Path I Choose

male on futa, masturbation, moderate underage, multiple chapters (more to come, by the way, I'll add as I post more chapters)

This is one that I wrote for the annual writing contest originally. I looked it over relatively early in the process and realized it wasn't viable as a contest winner, so I set it aside to finish my writing for the contest. Once I came back to it, the story basically exploded in scope and word-count (upwards of 12,000 words at this point) since I decided to take the brakes off the train and just let it go flying off wherever. Hope you guys enjoy.

“He wants to use my body, to take advantage, and I want to let him. I want to be someone’s one night stand, some blithe slut. I want to allow myself to be like all those women I pretended to look down upon all my life, but whom I secretly envied for having the guts to have their legs spread by strange men in smoky bars.”

“What do you think about this one?”

I looked at the picture he’d brought up on my computer. It wasn’t impressive by any stretch; a bleach blonde with her legs spread wide another bleach blonde laying down next to her with fingers close to – but not in – her pussy. And even the pussy looked pretty uninspired; sealed up and flat with her clit hidden inside her folds.

“Pass,” I said softly. The girlishness in my voice was really coming out now, along with small but growing breasts, a subtle flare to my hips and more roundness to my butt. I was pretty happy with the direction of the changes; they made me feel more like… me. Or at least the way I imagined myself. I’d been femming myself up for a long while now and liked the attention it brought, but still had to keep it within certain bounds unless I wanted the Institute starting to ask questions.

“You’re really picky, you know that?” he said, with a sense of mild but exasperation.

I shrugged, not wanting to look at his blank, cow-like expression while I was trying to get ready and kept my focus on the screen. The next image was a bit better; the girl had at least put her fingers on other girl’s outer labia lips, but wasn’t actually doing anything with them. I knew what he was going to say and headed him off, “Pass.”

He exhaled theatrically and clicked through to the next picture, another dud in the erotic sense. I only glanced at it for a second before throwing myself back into my chair and sighing, “Sorry, but can we look at some real porn? The lesbian stuff isn’t my bag, sorry.”

He turned away from the screen, his hand jumping up and down around his cock, “You don’t like lesbians, for real?” drawling out the first word annoyingly, as if I’d claimed something incredulous, like being the last king of Scotland. I remembered why I didn’t like him much, he had this irritating manner of speaking that came across as condescending and it was particularly bad because I shared my worst subject, Geography, with him. Half the time I asked a question, I could hear him exclaim, “Oh come on, you know this,” and it drove me batty in class. But his hand running over a generous length of meat with bulbous head reminded me why I excused his personal failings.

“No. It just doesn’t do anything for me, sorry,” I replied, trying to sound demure at the same time I was making demands.

“You’re fucking weird.”

I gave a slight smile and nod, taking the mouse from his hand and clicking on a different directory, full of images I’d carefully screened from my personal collection: handsome, muscled and big dicked men of all races joining together to ravish doll-like girls with fake tits. Scrolling down the directory’s contents, I double-clicked an image at random. It popped up after a second’s delay: a dusky, bleached blonde girl of quite curvy proportions, squatting on a bed in a pair of absolutely ridiculous high-heels, inches away from a veiny dick beneath her. But there was another, more pressing matter at hand, and I knew I needed to get on with it if I wanted it to happen at all. So I clicked to through to another picture and let my hand wander over to the Cow-faced Boy’s chair. I gripped the base of his dick, which was already drooling precum, leaving three fingers free to heft and juggle his balls. I squeezed as tight as I dared, compressing the tube on the underside of his cock with two fingers, and his breathing shifted; whether because he liked it or it hurt, I didn’t know. I did care though, but I knew at this stage guys didn’t want to talk about anything but the most important thing, so I kept my mouth shut for another few minutes. It was definitely a raunchy delight I took in being able to feel his heartbeat through his dick, exciting and freakish in equal measure.

I didn’t want to bring him too close to the edge however and just as his stroking took a more direct, insistent tone, I released him and put my feet up on the desk. Sliding both feet apart, I reached down into my pants and under m

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