veronicajsloan: Just released on Amazon, my latest futanari feature is for my readers that love both

veronicajsloan: Just released on Amazon, my latest futanari feature is for my readers that love both futa and wife-sharing stories…  Amanda just wants this miserable party to end. As far as her husband Bernard is concerned, she’s a pretty prop that should be seen and not heard. It isn’t until she meets the beguiling Joni Folsom that the dull night begins to sparkle. Joni is infatuated with Amanda and wants to put her proud husband in his place, so she offers the man a rare opportunity: a seat at her girls-only poker night. If Bernard wins, Joni will let him run the company. If Joni wins, she and her friends can do whatever they want to his wife.  Now Amanda’s guilty heart is racing. She wants Bernard’s feisty female colleagues to have their way with her, and that’s even before she learns their shocking secret: Joni and her gang are futanari! When Bernard loses, he’s going to be cuckolded by each and every one of them…much to his wife’s delight. This erotic futa tale is 23,000 words and recommended for adult readers. Available for a limited time at just $0.99, or FREE with Kindle Unlimited! EXCERPT: Cramped in the linen closet, breathing hot into each other’s faces, there was nowhere to squirm but deeper into each other’s arms. Perhaps Amanda nodded, for Nasty took her hand and laid it over the front of her ragged black t-shirt. The girl was not wearing a bra. Amanda’s fingers sank into the soft flesh of her breast. It was small and weighty, less than a handful but as buoyant as a water balloon. Nasty’s sigh reverberated through Amanda’s ears. “May I?” she asked. Her hands were already sliding up Amanda’s sparkling gown. “Y-yes,” Amanda stuttered. Her body reacted by instinct. Beneath the dress, her nipples flared to life. This wasn’t her husband, this wasn’t a friend, this was a stranger and a girl and a cramped hotel closet. How much time was left on the microwave? “Kiss you?” Nasty asked.  Amanda licked her lips. “Do I have a choice?” Nasty’s hand stroked her possessively. “Yes.” “I’ve never kissed a girl.” “If you don’t want to…” The butterflies were beating against the inner wall of Amanda’s stomach. “It’s better for me if you just take,” she whispered. Nasty grinned. “Take?” “Then I can tell Bernard I didn’t want to.” “You want to?” Amanda shut her eyes. “I don’t know what I want!” The girl’s lips were soft, the kiss slow and deliberate. Her fingertips wended over Amanda’s stomach and up, over the pulsing vein in her throat. She was as gentle as a lamb. On her tiptoes, Nasty massaged Amanda’s jawline and trapped her lips between her glossy pink pout. She opened wider to lick Amanda’s tongue. Amanda recoiled–and then returned like her spine was a spring. She moaned into the girl’s lips, this time welcoming the tongue. Emboldened, Nasty purred, and pulled Amanda deeper into her fragrant embrace. This kiss was not like Bernard’s at all, which felt at times like an opening handshake before getting down to more important business. This kiss was the whole business. Nastia clung to Amanda, her fingers part of the experience, sensual, essential. They roved over Amanda’s cheeks and pressed lightly at her temples. The squeeze of her perky breasts against Amanda’s own sent an electric pony prancing up and down her nerves. She allowed herself to be pushed against the cramped closet wall, allowed Nasty to spread her legs beneath the tight gown. “You are so pretty,” the girl sighed into her mouth.  “I think you’re pretty, too,” Amanda admitted.  They held each other’s grinning faces. The excitement and humidity made their cheeks glow with perspiration. “You are horny?” Nasty asked. What could Amanda say? She didn’t know if the others could hear them in the next room, if the sighs that were muffled by their hungry mouths carried through the slats and penetrated the radio. When Nasty began to lift the hem of her dress, she uttered a soft whimper of protest. “No?” Nasty asked. “No,” Amanda said. With a reluctant sigh, Nasty let it drop.  Amanda grunted. “N-no,” she said quickly, gulping back her anxiety. “No, I mean yes. No to–to your no.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I–” She gasped as the gown was yanked from her calves to her knees. “Oh!“  The gown slid higher, till Nasty could spread her trembling legs apart. She pushed the crotch of her black jeans into Amanda’s panties. "Push?” the girl suggested. Like a teenager, like a desperate virgin, Amanda rubbed against Nasty, pushing her damp panties into the stiff metal of her zipper. Nasty lifted Amanda’s leg, slid closer, and thrust between Amanda’s thighs.  To muffle her shameful cry, Amanda pulled Nasty’s mouth back to hers. Her leg curled around Nasty’s small buttocks as she sucked on her bottom lip. “God!” she rasped. “It feels like you have a cock!” “I do,” Nasty muttered into Amanda’s teeth. Nasty had to be joking, or maybe her meaning was lost in translation. “No, that’s not–” Amanda couldn’t form the words. Nasty’s kisses were eager, her lips juicy and hungry, and each suck, each smack, sent spasms rocketing down Amanda’s middle. Each thrust, each grind, lit the switchboard in Amanda’s sex. “I mean,” she stammered, “it feels like…like you have a p-penis!"  Whatever angle the girl was using to buck Amanda into the wall, it was uncanny. Amanda was already moist (credit to the provocative eyes and smiles of Ms. Joni Folsom) but now she was wet enough to feel every bump and bend in Nasty’s jeans. Her labia was swollen with arousal and her panties clung to the sensitive lips. Sticky and sheer, the silk was hardly a barrier at all. Amanda rolled her hips to fit her labia around what felt like the head of Nasty’s penis. "Th-there!” she gasped. “Yes,” Nasty moaned. “You like my penis?” “Oh, you are nasty,” Amanda laughed.  “You want to be nasty with me?” the girl asked. “Yes,” Amanda hissed. “Yes, I do.” “You want to ride my penis?” “Yes!” Amanda moaned. “Don’t tell my husband!” “No,” Nasty promised. She thrust her roughly into the closet wall. “Mmm, I like that,” Amanda rasped. “It really does feel like you have a cock.” “I have a cock,” Nasty insisted. “Oh yeah?” Amanda groaned. “Do you want me to touch it?” “Yes!” Nasty said. “Pull it out!” Now Amanda didn’t care how loud she was being. Nasty’s dirty talk had excited her to the point just short of insanity and her aggressive thrusts were driving her pussy well beyond it. She was carried along by the gender-bending fantasy. “Pull it out and I’ll jerk you off,” she promised. She could not really jerk the girl off, of course, but she could touch her bare skin, tease her like she’d been teased, and imagine.  By the time Nasty’s furtive fumblings had ceased, the belt and the button and the zipper all dispensed with, Amanda was so crazed that she believed she was holding a fat penis in her hand. “Yesss,” she hissed, and squeezed the clammy organ.  Nasty whimpered like the sweet lamb she was. “You like that?” Amanda cooed. “Does that feel better, baby?” When Nasty reached for her cheeks again, Amanda let go of whatever she’d been holding and fell into their wettest kiss yet. Soon, however, she felt a new wetness on her thigh. Breaking the kiss, Amanda gazed down at where their bodies met–and gasped!  Protruding from Nasty’s jeans was a genuine penis! The fat head sparkled with precum and drew a sticky path along her inner thigh. “You…you have…” “This is what I always tell you,” Nasty giggled. Rising from her open fly, the penis bulged with excitement.  Amanda was too amazed to be afraid. When her shaking fingers grazed the dark foreskin again, there was no doubt that it was real–real and connected to the girl. The penis stiffened, Nasty sucked in her breath, and her stomach rippled in response. From its gaping slit bloomed a fat drop of milky precum. “But you’re a girl!” Amanda whispered.  In answer to her unspoken request, Nasty pulled her t-shirt up and over her small breasts. The dark areolas were large, the nipples pert and pointed to the ceiling. If they’d been cosmetically enhanced or altered, they fooled Amanda’s rigorous fondling. “But–” Amanda started. She stole another glance at Nasty’s cock (now dripping its translucent arousal onto the toes of Amanda’s uncomfortable heels) and then Nasty’s lips, face, hips–all undoubtedly female. And yet, as Amanda’s thumb skated over the wet head of the penis, she thought that she’d never seen a more handsome cock. This was no vestigial body part, this was a thick, proud specimen of the male organ. It wasn’t as long as Bernard’s but its girth was easily his match…and then some. It was at least as thick as her wrist. Check out Veronica’s new fiery new futanari book! ♥ -- source link

More pics about