Should My Forehead Smell like Ball Sweat (Male on futa, cunnilingus)

Story by Gilgamesh

It's been honestly over two years since I've been able to write anything at all. It's been a long time since I've been here too, so pardon any faux pas on the thread-making and the story. Any comments, good, bad or hilarious would be welcome.

This is just something that I've had an urge to see for a long time, but any time it's in a comic or doujin, it's only a page or two. Any time there's futa in a story or comic, it always goes straight to fellatio. I'm not expecting it to be popular, but it's a man expressing his fetish about something he'd like to see more of. Not much different than the vast majority of stories, comics and the like of someone with a fetish.

It's short and maybe rushed, but getting anything done is a lot for me now.

Should My Forehead Smell Like Ball Sweat

Male on futa

Cunnilingus

Fellatio

Sleeping

Happily Married couple

As cliched and corny as it sounds, my wife was sleeping like an angel. If I knew any better way to describe the sight before me, I would have done so if I had the talent. In the morning sunlight, she stirred slightly, likely making even more of a mess of her shoulder-length red hair. The stereotypical wife would have awake at 7 in the morning and would have been making breakfast for her husband, but my 30 year old wife enjoyed her beauty sleep.

I, almost no different than I was when we met almost twenty years ago, had that desire to tease her. Like any time a young boy teases a girl, it was simultaneously a sadistic and affectionate gesture to flip a skirt, pinch her butt or pull her hair. That embarrassed or mad reaction she would rarely show anyone else or the opportunity to touch her where other boys couldn't gave me a thrill. It was the crudest, most boyish way to show interest.

Despite needing to leave for work in the next 15 minutes, I pulled up the thin sheets at the foot of the bed that covered her and slipped underneath. Positioning myself between her knees, I moved my hand up back and forth up her calves trying to coax a reaction from her. Midday jogging around the neighborhood gave her nice tone, and she would joke that my caresses gave it a smooth shape and finish.

I planted a kiss on her right leg, just a bit below the knee, then another slightly up her leg. When her leg started to shift, I stopped my planned line of kisses up her thigh and held my breath. Was the jig up?

With a sleepy moan, my wife's legs spread open wider. She was always something of a bed hog, and often seemed to sleep with all her legs outstretched like a sea star, as if she were intent on taking up as much physical space as possible. In more than a few instances, her legs would be hung over me, having apparently turned sideways in the bed over the night. (Not that I complained.)

With the goal in sight, I crawled up between her legs under the white sheet. Again I laid a kiss on her leg, but was deep between her thighs, her soft, white flesh gracing my lips. Less than an inch to the right was the thin layer of cloth that hid the prize, my hand was the first to risk the consequences and tease it. Three fingertips carefully stroked up and down flesh beneath the cloth.

The outline of her panties was different than other women. She had told me after I found out that she was unsure what she would say when she was ready to make love with me for the first time. She didn't know if she was going to cry, torn between the desire to be with me and the fear of the horrible reaction that I may have. An idea entirely laughable now, but entirely plausible to her in her most cynical and wrong of views of the world long ago. Alternatively, she wanted to be confident and demand that I not treat her just like any other girl and ignore part of her that weren't like any other girl, but cherish every part of her if I wanted to be with her. However, I saved her from that dilemma while plunging into her into a worse one by childishly flipping her skirt one night.

When it came down to it, I wasn't bothered then, and I still aren't bothered now. My fingers teased her pussy, cock and balls all at the same time through her panties. Morning wood had affected her in no way different than any man, and it was no long until a half-hearted chubby had become a full and thick six inches, throbbing and demanding attention.

With such a tempting target in front of me, yearning for more of my ministrations as it pushed up against the pink cotton undergarment, I smiled devilishly. I had other things in mind.

My fingers stopped stroking and fingertips curled under the edge of her panties, freeing her privates from underneath the confining panties. Yet instead of grasping a hold of her turgid member, my hand went underneath her balls and lifted them. I squirmed forward, close enough that her balls rest on my forehead and my lips were close enough to kiss her lower lips. I parted her lips with her fingers as I parted my own and my to

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