Can't Handle a Cocktail (Commission, Futa/Female, Self-Cest)

Story by Tosaku No Kishi

Commissioned by Blader from my Discord. It's a sequel to a short story I did ages ago involving a woman with a cocktail.

Katy moaned and came once more. Her body jerked about on the toilet seat, legs kicking out as she suckled on her cock, which slammed into her throat of its own volition. Turgid veins throbbed across its surface, pumping in tandem with the tide of semen that rushed through every inch and sprayed down her gullet. Each drop was viscous enough to cling to her oesophagus, which let the phallus slide deeper, using its own ejaculate as lube. The shape bulged from her throat as it disappeared into her bottomless cleavage.

She kept her hands on her tits, giving herself a boob job. Not that she had any say in the matter – it would use her breasts with, or without her consent. Regardless, Katy took her own joy from the act. She rolled her nipples in her fingers, pinching and pulling in equal measures. Each action incited a deep rooted moan, echoed by the lurid slurps of her pussy.

An eight-inch vibrator whirled about in her cunt, unknowingly finding and striking her favourite spots. Juices dripped into the water below, while the dildo remained aloft, held aloft by her carnal muscles alone. Katy whimpered and clenched her thighs together, pleading for her cock to stop. Cum stopped gushing, now a mere dribble down her gob, before sliding back to ‘look’ at her, cum and spit linking it to her lips. Sometimes she believed it really could see her.

“You done?” Katy rasped and wiped at her face, smearing it in the aftermath. Her cock swayed side-to-side. Fresh semen drooled from the fissure along its peak, thicker than any paste she’d seen, almost like cement mix. The odour extended toward her, seductive in its overwhelming virility, like a thousand men had jerked off before her. She leaned forward, tongued extended to lick up the dribble, before it pulled away.

She flexed the invisible network of muscles beneath her skin, the ones that no one but Katy possessed, hoping to cajole the elusive prick toward her. The problem with her cock, was its semi-sentience. It was her dick, but it wasn’t hers. Pulses of pleasure travelled down its length, into her body proper and to her brain. It intended to fuck her… again.

Such was the problem of having a cock for a tail, she supposed. It wriggled about, pressing the bulk of its body against Katy’s snatch, pushing her fingers away and dislodging the vibrator within. The dildo plopped into the toilet below, splashing water and droplets of her juices onto her thighs. Katy was left panting, unable to prevent what was to come and, to a lesser extent, unwilling to. It was hard to refuse such treatment. Not only for the stubborn nature of her tail, yet also for the inevitable pleasure that would come.

When it approached her snatch, Katy sighed and spread her legs. She reached down to her pussy, stroked it from bottom to top, lingering on the clit, and parted the lips. A man had never sunk more than a few fingers inside her, however it was difficult to tell, given how loose her pussy was. Several years of masturbation, and living with an unruly cocktail, gave her quite the experienced cunt. Not that her dick would let a man’s member anywhere close.

“Fuck, that’s so wet,” Katy said and glanced at her tail. It quivered, its lust barely constrained in the presence of her pussy, which dripped fluids into the water. A thin layer coated the insides of her thighs, spread around by the whirring of her drowned vibrator.

Her cock waved in place, as if waiting for her permission. It wasn’t. All it was doing was teasing her, waiting until she asked for it to fuck her, to part her inner walls with the blunt, bell-shaped crown. From the head, her dick burgeoned into a dense trunk of virile might, new veins popping out the lower it went until they formed a dense network. Only one vein was constant as it travelled along the bottom of her cock. That one was responsible for delivering all her cum.

She bit her lip. It was like an arcade game now. The story was always the same, ending with her inevitable defeat, yet she couldn’t stop playing it. Anticipation and lust intertwined as she stared. Her cock remained docile, its only movement a subtle swaying that rippled along its girth. On a good day, she would hold out for an entire hour, sometimes even get it to back down. Today was not one. She’d dealt with a wet dream that morning, suffered through work – with a slutty co-worker strutting about – and now her pussy was dripping wet. If she didn’t cum soon, her cock would go haywire again.

Just like at the coffee shop. Rita still hadn’t talked to her, or even glanced her way at work. A result that she couldn’t risk tonight, not at the party.

“Just, ugh, just get on with it,” Katy said and reclined against the basin. If she had the time, o

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