Outgunned (futa on male, non-con, oral, anal)
Story by Kuroshio
After striking out at the club, a tall, long-legged futanari beauty has a mugging that goes oh-so right for her. And about a foot wrong for her assailant.
(futa on male, non-con, creampie, non-sex violence, anal, rough sex, deep throat)
Commission based on a 3D photoset by nothingmore.
I was pent up but the club was a bust for the night. All the girls on display, but none of them were willing to take the leap back to my place for a night of fun. Right then my own apartment was looking pretty good as far as prospects went. Maybe my shower, take the detachable head, set the temperature just right and ride the wave until... well. I knew I shouldn't have taken the shortcut through the neighborhood literally known as "Dead End" but went you're a little bit tipsy and a lotta bit horny good judgment doesn't come easy. If it comes at all.
And so I darted between two buildings, ignoring all the warning signs going off in my head with thoughts of a bit of self-loving a few minutes sooner.
I suppose it wasn't fear or regret I felt when I saw the gun poking my direction. I certainly didn't startle at any rate. Instead it was more like bemusement, particularly when I saw the man behind the weapon. He was shorter than me – but when you're close to six and a half feet tall, most people are – and didn't look like the naturally vicious, dangerous sort with his shaggy black hair and nervous eyes. I don't quite recall what he said; it may have actually been, “Your money or your life!”
Whatever it was, God help me, I almost laughed in his face.
That would have been counter-productive though. From the way his hand shook as he pointed the gun at me, I figured he was only doing it out of sheer desperation. Maybe he needed the money for books? Or to pay for his grandma's meds? Who knew?
So I slowly, carefully, slipped my purse off my shoulder and pushed it toward the mugger. With a glean in his eyes he reached out and grabbed it, stuffing it under his arm as he looked back up at me with that unfortunate look of recklessness, “This it? What else you got?”
I could only smile a little, “Why do you look and find out?”
His glance went from my face to my skirt and back again, almost disbelieving as he thrust his pistol out and started lifting my skirt. In truth, I've never been much of a “good” girl and it was so much more comfortable to go without panties. And exciting as well, can't forget that part. Of course, when you're dancing in a short skirt, that can make things a bit... hmmm... challenging when it comes to keeping all the parts out of the public eye, but I'd found a most expedient solution years back.
And as my skirt rose higher, he discovered it as well. I could tell my mugger was impressed; his eyes went wide as all the little clues clicked together in that noggin of his and he started mouthing the words, “What the –“
It was just unfortunate timing I had to cut him off at the point, raising one leg and pivoting on other before snapping my shin forward in order to connect my heel with the side of his jaw. One moment he was staring at my girlcock stuffed up into my pussy, the next moment he was spinning airborne. The whole thing happened in a flash – if someone blinked they would have missed the kick entirely – and my mugger went sprawling right onto the concrete, halfway unconscious from just a single blow. The pistol he'd held went skittering across the ground, before finally coming to a stop far out of his reach.
Perfect.
I could hardly hold back my smile as I took a few steps towards his prostrate body before reaching down and hauling up by his belt. My mugger was still out of it, but could tell something was up – suddenly he was looking at alley wall upside down for starters – and flailed about with his arms and legs as I yanked his pants down his legs. He cried out, “Hey! Hey! Put me down!”
I granted his wish, dumping him back onto the ground, with his pants bunched around his knees of course, and stood before him. Slowly, I lifted my skirt and grasped my thick cock underneath, exhaling deeply and tugging it free of its wet, velvety prison. God, it felt so wonderful after being pent up for hours, coming clear of my folds with a wet schlick and a steady dribble of honey.
Truth be told, even at eight inches I wasn't fully erect, but the look on his face... I could have called it “excitement” but that would be denying the fear behind his eyes its due. “Shock” perhaps? Or maybe “panic” would be better? Whatever it was, it wasn't going to stop me from having a little fun at his expense.
“What's the matter?” I asked softly, stroking myself from base to tip and flinging a bit of sticky clear honey onto his black leather jacket, “Cat got your tongue? If not, maybe w
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