Fōtsūtsū isn't the kind of place you go to buy elegant, bespoke dresses to attend a fall formal in. It's the kind of place you go to buy slutty cosplay and fetish gear. So of course it's where Amber decides to take you. Tucked away at the end of a narrow cobblestone sidepath in a large and fashionable outdoor galleria, it's a shop you have to be purposely seeking to find -- Amber wanted you to go here, specifically.
"Oh my..." Amelia murmurs as she steps through the entryway and sees what's on offer. "Who is this boy you're going to the dance with, again?"
"Will Levy," you say.
Amelia pulls a microbikini from the racks. Or maybe it would be more apt to call it a micromicrobikini -- really just a couple strips of pale blue fabric connected by a strap that runs vertically up the center and terminates in a collar -- the collar by far the widest covering. "And is this how you want this Will boy to see you dressed?" She asks, playing at mildly scandalized.
"No -- god, no," you breathe.
Amelia smiles. "Then this might be the wrong place to go dress shopping, don't you think?"
"Nah, I think this is the perfect place," Amber counters. From the racks, she produces a succubus costume. You recognize it as eerily similar to the one worn by the not-so-mysterious Besuto, in videos Amber once eagerly forced you to watch. "Wanna bend some circuits?" Amber asks.
"Why does that look familiar..." Amelia murmurs. Then she seems to remember whatever context she saw it in herself -- blushes, and looks away.
"Can we please just find something that won't get me arrested if I wear it in public?" You grouse. You take the succubus costume from her and hang it back up. "Something that isn't too frilly. I hate frilly shit."
"How about you, Amber?" Amelia says. "Are you going to homecoming as well?"
"Nah. I'm--"
"Yes you are," you say. "You totally are. Liar."
"No, I'm not," Amber says. "Not on a date, anyway."
"So... you *are* going," Amelia drawls, having drawn the correct conclusion from Amber's evasive answer.
"Not the same way that Wes is--"
"You need a dress, too, then," Amelia interjects.
"No, I don't! Because I'm *not* going to homecoming -- except as a functionary of the PAP StuCo! That's different!"
Amelia finds a heavily altered seifuku -- one made into a haltertop and micro-miniskirt. She holds it up for appraisal. "StuCo-appropriate, do you think?"
"Okay, that's it, we're leaving. Wes, we're leaving. C'mon."
"Oh, no," Amelia croons. She lays hands on Amber's shoulder and steers her deeper into the store. "We have shopping to do..."
It always surprises you how easily Amelia can strike fear into Amber. Just a firm grip and a gentle "oh, no," innocuous as it may seem, is enough to make Amber think twice about trying to back out of this situation. It's great. Bringing Amelia along to keep you safe from Amber's bullying was definitely the wise decision.
"Will you look at this?" Amelia says, showing Amber a bunnysuit. "Wouldn't that look darling?"
"You are out of your goddamn tree, lady, if you think I'm gonna put that on," Amber says, and takes a halting step back. You smile to yourself.
"Oh, I didn't mean for you." Amelia turns and holds the costume aloft to display it to you -- fishnets, bunny ears, cottontail, cute little cufflinks and all. "What do you think, Wes? Isn't it perfect?"
You feel suddenly ill. And now it's Amber who gets to smile at your misfortune.
Until, of course, Amelia finds the costume's opposite number -- literally - a reverse bunnysuit hanging nearby. "This one might suit you a little better, Amber."
"You are absolutely -- fucked, in the head," Amber says.
"If you girls don't want me choosing your outfits for you, then you'd better get to choosing something for yourselves," Amelia says, grinning coyly.
You get the message loud and clear. So does Amber. The two of you start digging through the clothes racks.
You find some dresses that suit your sensibilities: plain, slim, and not terribly suggestive. Sure, they're slit down the back a little deeply... and/or cut a little (read: way) short... but you wouldn't feel like a porn actress wearing it, so one of them will have to do. Amber, for her part, finds something a little more out-there: a full cheongsam, complete with two silk covers for wearing over bunned hair. And if you thought your dress selections were slit too far down the back... at least none are also slit halfway up one side.
"Happy?" Amber demands.
"It's gorgeous," Amelia says. "But I'd hate to see you get canceled for wearing it. Why don't you and Wes switch?"
"No," you say. You can feel yourself turning green. "Oh no no no."
"I *like* this dress," Amber says, pulling it protectively to herself. "And I'm not going to let a bunch of hypothetical, over-sensitive idiots tell me that I can't wear it. Fuck 'em."
Props to Amelia. She found a way to make Amber an enthusiastic participant in this fiasco.
"Hmm..." Amelia hums. She rifles through the hangers. You hate the sound of metal sliding on metal. "Ah... here's another one just like it." She pulls a second cheongsam out. "You girls can match. Red and blue."
"I don't want to go around looking like Chun-Li, sorry," you tell her.
She tosses the dress at you. By reflex, you catch it -- dropping the more acceptable ones in a pile at your feet.
"Don't make a decision until you try it on," Amelia says. "Go ahead. See how it fits. I'd be heartbroken if you didn't at least try it on." She shoos you two towards a dressing room.
Amber shrugs at you. What are you gonna do? You're as powerless against Amelia's gentle scolding as she is.
Inside the cramped space, which you and Amber share, you awkwardly disrobe. It's hard not to knock your limbs and bodies together as you struggle free of your street clothes and into the dresswear. "This is your fault," Amber whispers. "I hope you realize that."
"I'm not the one who brought us to Sluts 'r' Us," you whisper back. "*Maybe* if you didn't want to get Shanghaied into a China dress, you'd have picked a normal fucking clothes store. Ever think of that?"
"She's gonna rape you," Amber says. "Dead serious. And it won't be my problem." She primps her hair in the mirror and twists her neck to see how the dress fits her in back.
"Well you said it yourself -- I've got enough horny bitches hanging off of me. What's one more?" You fiddle with the apex of the cheongsam's side-slit, despondent at how high it goes up your leg. You can see your pantyline through it -- all the way to the waistband.
"Uh huh," Amber says. "Well, do any of those other horny bitches have a dick?"
You grimace at her. "Oh, please."
"It's true. Amelia's got a dick. Big fat fucker. I've seen it."
"No you haven't."
"Yes. I have. Why do you think Mom likes her so much? Why do you think she's the best-paid store manager in the system?"
"Aunt Whitney didn't--"
"It's because she's got a nice big cock that fucks hard and goes splurrrrt -- and then keeps going. That's why."
"You're trying to mess with me."
"Hey, you peep on your mommies. You think I don't peep on mine?" Amber ties up the pink silk sash that goes around her cheongsam's hip. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she whispers, and then steps out of the room. You follow.
Amelia claps. "Amazing! You look like a couple of porcelain dolls. I wanna put you on my shelf!"
This remark would be creepy enough by itself. But Amelia is wearing the bunnysuit she picked out a few minutes ago, and that makes it about a hundred times creepier. She must have gone into an adjoining fitting room and tried it on. It's small on her -- too small, by a lot, and it bites into her plump body in a way that looks downright painful. The stockings struggle to constrict her thighs, and you spy a run already developing in the right leg; the breastpiece can hardly contain the massiveness of her boobs, which bulge around the edges and half-envelop it; the bikini bottom is folded in on itself, uncomfortably compressed, and threatening to be sucked up entirely by her ass.
At least the bunny ear headband fits her.
"Uh, Mel?" Amber says. "Ever hear the policy of 'you break it, you buy it'?"
"Oh, this?" Amelia says, glancing down at herself. "I love this costume! I'll definitely buy it."
Your eyes scan the latex front, searching for a certain kind of bulge -- you think maybe you see a misshapen lump by the crotch, but maybe that's just excess fabric bunching up. You can't be certain.
"Anyway," Amelia says, "I approve. 100%." She steps close, puts her hands on either side of the top of your head. "With some makeup, and hair buns, you'd look like you stepped right out of a Qing dynasty court."
"Yellow fever much?" Amber says.
Amelia turns towards her. "You look adorable, too. You both do."
It feels weird getting doted on by bunnysuit Amelia. It's too much attention. You want to go home and bury your face in your pillows, ASAP.
Amelia clears her throat. Your eyes shoot down. You see something that definitely isn't the bunching of fabric, developing near her crotch -- but only for an instant -- because she goes for the entrance to the other booth and says, "I should get my normal clothes back on. Excuse me..."
Alone again, Amber ribs you. "Heh. We gave her boner."
"Will you stop?" You say. "If this is some weird-ass way of convincing me not to hook up with Amelia, it isn't working. You should know my porn habits well enough by now to figure that out."
Amber shrugs. "You don't want to believe me? Walk through that wicker door, and see for yourself."
"I am not going to barge in on Amelia while she's getting dressed and say, 'lemme see your dick' -- especially when I'm... like... 87% sure she hasn't even got one."
"Well, you'll have a couple minutes to reconsider those odds," Amber says, folding her arms. She tilts her chin up, as if to point at the fitting room's door: "I think she's trying to get happy in there."
You perk your ears and listen carefully. From the vicinity of Amelia's fitting room, you hear a slow, rhythmic slapping -- only faintly, but it's definitely there. And a moment after that, you hear a muffled but not totally stifled "unnh~" that's unmistakably Amelia's voice, although not in a way you've ever heard it before. The pace of that onanistic slapping accelerates, then -- then suddenly stops, and you hear a slightly louder "ahhh~" which you would take to be her orgasm. Except just a second after *that*, the whole thing begins anew.
"You really got her going," Amber says. "Gonna take responsibility?"
You look Amber dead in the eye. "I didn't get her going. We got her going."
"Huh--"
You grab her wrist and tug her forward, towards the dressing room door. "WE should take responsibility."
The door may be locked, but the gap underneath is more than wide enough to crawl under. You force Amber to hands and knees with you, and violate Amelia's privacy. Just as you thought, she's sitting there on the hard wood bench, playing with herself. Degenerate woman. She freezes in shock as you and Amber climb in with her and stand before her. You're equally shocked by what you see.
Amelia doesn't have a penis.
Penises are something like 4 to 7 inches long at the middle of the bell curve, and measure only a little less in circumference. Penises are intimidating but not terrifying, like a well-designed roller coaster or a difficult game. Penises are good and fun.
Amelia doesn't have a penis. Amelia has a monster.
An impossibly thick, impossibly long, bulging, veiny, twitching, dripping, half-hooded and slimy monster. Like a thing alien to Amelia's body that latched itself to her so it can feed off her life force. It's darker than the rest of her by a couple shades, curved like a scimitar, and pulses as if it has a mind all its own. She has it free of the crotch of her bunnysuit, and hanging underneath it is a pendulous set of balls. Her tits are out, too, heaving and sweaty. She's plastered with semen -- her own -- it drips off her champagne pink nipples and the rumpled violet polyester of her bunnysuit. And it drools from the tip of her cock in huge, thick gobs that pool on the floor in a tiny puddle. Nevertheless, she's still erect, and both her hands are still wrapped around that monster cock of hers -- as much as they can encompass, anyway, which isn't a lot. Feminine as Amelia is, generally, this tiny fitting room stinks of man -- of masculinity -- of an obscene odor pouring from the masculine part of her like fumes from a roaring furnace.
"Amelia..." you breathe. "You're-- I -- I didn't know you were trans."
"I'm not," she says softly, sounding ashamed. She pulls her balls to one side to reveal, hidden there, a slit that's drooling just as freely as her cocktip. "I'm intersex. Born lucky, I guess. I have the whole package." She lets go of her genitals, and her palms fall flat against the bench. She slumps in place a little. "I... I'm sorry. I really like you, Wes. And I guess you didn't expect this. So... if you never want to see me again -- I get it -- really..."
You can't let her think that of you. You get between her legs. Nevermind that one of your knees is resting in the puddle of her jizz. Nevermind that the scent of her sex is so overpowering from this close that it makes you almost faint. You like Amelia too. And you want her to show you what she can do with this thing.
"That thing... is... SO much bigger from up-close than it seems," Amber stutters. Amelia tilts her head in confusion. Amber stumbles backwards. "I'm super happy that you two are compatible and whatnot, but-- I'll just... wait, out there, for you..."
"Don't be rude." You grab one of her ankles and trip her. She falls to her face right in front of the bench.
"Are you really... all right with... with..." Amelia begins. But she doesn't have to ask, because it's plain from your reactions that you are. Her eyes become dewy, and Amber's eyes become saucers, as you pull Amelia's cock to your face, skin-to-skin, so your nose and lips are mashed against the underside of it. This position of submission would be enough to make you drip if your cunt wasn't already wet. You can't resist inhaling deeply, as you stare up into Amelia's trembling face. You draw as much of this sex-soaked air as your lungs will hold, basking in the musky stink of Amelia's cock. You are only distantly aware of the fact that the tip is still oozing cum, that it's getting all over your hair, dripping down the back of your head, across the nape of your neck and over the part of your back that the cheongsam leaves bare.
Amelia's voice goes staccato. "Wes-- I'm gonna--"
Your eyes bulge in surprise. You feel Amelia's cock rumble against you, like a volcano about to blow -- and then it blows. With steady, relentless pulses, Amelia blows her load. And if those parts of you she was oozing on were messy before, now they're whitewashed -- you can feel the almost torrential geyser of semen squirting from her cock, soiling this new dress, and leaving you sitting in an ever-expanding puddle of dick milk.
You won't hog the fun. You steer Amelia's orgasming cock the other way -- aiming it at Amber -- and nail her right in the face with a few wet, messy spurts. She shudders, gasping, and holds her half-clenched hands up by her cheeks in shock as the nasty spunk drips from her -- down her forehead and off her nose and chin. She stares down at her body, the stained fabric of the cheongsam, and tests the consistency of the sperm with a forefinger, as if disbelieving what just happened. Her breaths are erratic and irregular.
"I'm so sorry," Amelia says, and bites her knuckles. She's still cumming.
"Don't be sorry," you tell her. "Amber's been saying forever how bad she wants some dick. Well, here it is."
"You're still hard..." Amber murmurs. Resting her fists on the floor between her knees, a long strand of cum still dangling off the sharp tip of her nose, she leans forward and examines Amelia's cock from the same closeness that you do.
"It's just how I am," Amelia explains. "The more I masturbate and have sex... the more of it I need... I can't ever get this stupid thing to go down."
In spite of herself, Amber is drooling a little. Her dainty jaw drifts open and her wet tongue is visible between her equally wet lips. Her eyes go glassy. She seems half in a stupor. Maybe the smell of cock and cum is infecting her brain, too, or maybe getting cummed on triggered something primal inside her. There's definitely just one thing on her mind right now. You won't let her be the only one licking this giant dick, though. Together, you and your older sister let your tongues loll out, and you begin to lick and suckle on Amelia's flesh pole.
It tastes... like sweat and grime... like something dirty and disgusting -- salty, bitter, pungent. You love it. You want this horrible taste to stain your mouth and mark you. You want to stink like Amelia's cock for the next month. You want to be a cumdump for her, a cock hole, a dick ditch. Just kissing and running your lips lightly up and down the length of her member makes it throb until it turns all red and purple and angry. A cock this huge and angry-looking... if it fucked you, that wouldn't be sex, would it? It would be rape... she'd be raping you. When Amber puts her nose and lips in the crevice where Amelia's nuts and shaft connect, and siphons up the spunk pooled there while huffing Amelia's smell, Amelia has another miniature orgasm, and pours her cum thickly across your cheek as you suckle on her foreskin.
Amber notices this when she finally comes up for air. Her red hair is matted to her face by sweat and precum. Her eyes are half-lidded. "You have some on you," she says huskily. "Let me help." She leans across Amelia's cock and sucks the jizz off your skin. It makes her eyes roll back. Mouth half-full, teeth and tongue swamped in a pearl-white pool of Amelia's genetics, Amber slurs: "it tashtes sho fucking good..."
"More down here," you tell her, and push her head to the concrete floor. Amber doesn't bat an eyelash. She starts licking Amelia's cum up like a kitten lapping milk. "God, I love it..." she groans.
You join your sister. Why not? Together, your tongues swirl around the dirty ground and suck down all of Amelia's copious semen. They occasionally meet, and you kiss one another, enjoying the tang of the dirty cum inside one another's mouths. Amelia, hard as ever, leans back and watches this perverse, incestuous display. She masturbates -- jerking herself with one hand, tickling her cunt slit with the other.
That makes you curious. You push your face underneath her balls. Here, at the union of her male and female parts, her scent is the strongest of all. The collected sweat and funk of the day, mixed with her girlcum and her jizz, really does make you pass briefly into unconsciousness. Your eyes flutter shut, you feel loose all over, and start to fall. But Amber's hand against the back of your skull, forcing your face into Amelia's crotch even harder, wakes you back up. You lap at her pussy while Amber licks her dick. You service both sets of genitalia, together, and the small room fills with the lewd sounds of sucking. Amelia cums. You can't see it happen, but you can tell from the sound of Amber's struggling coughs and sputters, that Amelia is blowing her nuts right in Amber's mouth, and down her throat. How lucky.
"Stand up... girls, stand up, please..." Amelia begs.
You stand. Amelia wraps her limbs around you -- her calves draped over your butts, her arms draped across your backs. She pulls your faces towards hers, and you enter into a three-way kiss. You and Amber jerk Amelia off while you swap her cum between your hungry mouths. Real cock is so smooth and velvety, but so hard and rough-feeling, too -- and so hot it almost burns. You love it. You and Amber use your free hands to paw at Amelia's enormous tits, which are still sticky with her sperm. Amelia writhes and moans under this adoring attention. She isn't a completely greedy lover, though. She sneaks her hands through the slits in your cheongsams, past the waistbands of your undies. With either hand, she molests your little cunnies for you, since your own hands are too busy to do it yourselves. She's really good at it. She knows how to finger a couple of little bitches like you.
As your tongues wash over and around one another's, Amelia moans into your mouths: "I need to fuck... I need to fuck something... you girls will let me fuck you, right? I need it-- I NEED it so bad..."
"I need it too," you moan back. "Fuck me, Mel... please..."
Some stray, still-rational neuron in Amber's brain fires. "Uh-- are you fertile, Mel? You know. If you don't use protection, could we..."
You hike your dress and climb into Amelia's lap. You hug her around her neck. It's a strange vantage, looking down at her rather than up. Her twitching cock is hot against your butt, even through the dress's fabric. "I'm ready. I wanna fucking bounce on you."
"Pregnancy... is a real possibility..." Amelia says. "I have condoms in my purse, if you--"
You pull your panties aside and plunge yourself down, straight down, onto Amelia's cock. As big as it is -- you're so wet and her dick is so slimy that it splits you open with ease. Your inside walls get streaked with the cum she's still drooling from her piss slit. Can't go back now. "No fucking condom," you whisper right in her ear. "Cum inside me."
Amelia feels you up and down your back. She gropes your butt. You rest on your knees, and start to bounce, just the way you said you wanted to. Fucking Amelia scratches that itchy spot just past your cervix, inside your womb -- in a way no dildo ever could. The harder you bounce, the more relief you feel. It hurts. But in a soothing way. Amelia can only hold on for dear life while you use her like a living sex toy. You make out with her, and you grunt like animals into each other's mouths.
"Wes-- you're crazy," Amber breathes. "You stupid slut--"
"Mel, you have a phone in your purse, too?" You pant.
She nods.
"Good." You glance over your shoulder, never breaking the piston-like pace of your humping. It feels much too good to stop. "Amber, be useful. Shoot a video of this. Summer wants to see."
Amber does as instructed. She fishes through Amelia's purse, grabs the phone there, and starts to commit this act to video. Technically a major felony, but none of you care. Amber leans against the wall of the dressing room, spreads her legs, and plays with herself while she films. She's done discouraging your wanton riskiness. Since it's going to happen anyway, she may as well get off to it. "You seeing this shit, Summer?" She narrates. "Mel's gonna knock your girlfriend up. I hope you like pregnant chicks."
"Oooh-- oooh--" Amelia grunts. She squeezes your ass to fuck you even deeper, and presses her mouth to your neck. She kisses you, sucks your skin, bites you and gives you hickeys. "It's so good raw... it's so good fucking a raw pussy..."
"It's the best," you agree, voice swoony. "I love raw dick..."
She kisses the other side of your neck now. "I'm gonna bareback you every day from now on," she promises. "I don't care if you do get pregnant."
"Yeah? What are you gonna tell my moms?" You say tauntingly, still bouncing on her. You hate that with every upstroke you have to raise yourself off her dick, but the forcefulness of her entire shaft filling your insides straight up to your uterus every time you slam down on her is just too good to pass up.
"I don't care," Amelia says. She has a crazed lilt to her voice. "I'll knock them up, too."
That touches off a deep, shuddering climax inside you, one that originates from your deepest and most intimate parts. Your womb throbs when you hear her say something like that. It constricts, and wraps itself like a suckling mouth around the bulbous head of Amelia's cock. You stop moving. So Amelia, grabbing hold of your waist, and half-standing with bowed knees, starts to thrust. Your head lolls back, bouncing limply in time to her fucking, and your mouth curls into an O. You let out a silent scream. Amelia's forceful slam-fuck, so much rougher than the way you bounced on her, fills the air with nasty thwacking and squelching sounds.
"Cumming--!!" Amelia grunts, and then she does. It's a big one. A huge, creamy load that explodes against your insides, as hot as lava, and as thick as yogurt, so voluminous that you hear the messy glopping of it, until it runs down your thighs, over the union of your genitals, and onto the ground. Amber films it all while she cums herself stupid.
But Amelia has the true spirit of a born futanari. Cumming a few times all over your bodies, and once deep inside your raw cunt -- couldn't possibly be enough to satisfy her. When she falls back into a sitting position and you slowly dismount -- as the milky load seeps from your battered pussy like a condiment being squeezed from a bottle, spattering messily all over Amelia's lap and the bench below her -- Amelia is already looking at Amber with lusty eyes -- Amber, who's got her legs spread wide, her panties around one ankle, and her smooth pussy on full view while she diddles herself in that Chinese dress of hers.
"Um... no pregnancy for me, please," Amber stammers.
Amelia may be totally fuck-crazed, but she's no actual rapist. Dutifully, she puts a condom on, trapping her meaty dick under a thin layer of latex that stretches so taut it looks like it'll snap if you only breathe on it. And, all suited up, she gets herself between Amber's legs.
"Oh... God..." Amber gasps, doubtful of the geometry involved when Amelia lines her dick up. But Amber's breath leaves her like she got punched in the solar plexus, and she has no way to say no, as Amelia slams herself home, balls-deep, up Amber's far too tiny snatch.
You feel changed. You've never been spunked in before, at least not by real cum. It's nice. It's warm. It makes you feel lightheaded and silly. It makes you feel dumb and happy. You wish Amber would cut loose and enjoy it, too. Crawling over to her, you stroke her tummy. You can see the slightest distension caused by Amelia's absolutely humongous dick slamming in and out.
"You really won't let her cum in you?" You ask.
"Yeah. I'm not insane."
Amber, being pressed against the dressing room wall until she's curled up in the shape of a bean, Amelia's arms wrapped around her calves for purchase, has forgotten her filmography duties. You gently retrieve the phone, its camera still videoing, from Amber's limp hand. Then, straddling Amber's face, you sit on her. You're still leaking Amelia's spunk. Now it's smearing all over Amber's forehead, nose, cheeks, lips, and chin -- and oozing into her mouth. When you press your fingertips against your navel, it forces yet more dribbles of cum from your deepest parts -- it seems to never end. "It's so warm," you coo. "It feels so good... in here... you really don't want it?"
Amber sucks Amelia's cum out of you like she hasn't eaten in weeks, and her rolling eyes glimmer with lust. You grind on her, getting off, pointing the camera downward to film the way you degrade her. What you really want to capture though, is the moment she breaks -- you know she will -- the moment she tells Amelia to pull the condom off so she can take Amelia's nut inside her.
You raise your scrawny butt a little off her face. "Well?"
Amber's voice is tremulous, like a scared little girl, as she says: "I'm not safe... I'll get pregnant for sure."
"So fucking what?" You rub your cunt on her again and let her get even drunker off the sperm flowing from you. "Mmmf~" she breaths, blowing hot air directly against your engorged clit. Behind you, Amelia keeps up a relentless, pounding pace -- but staves off another orgasm, waiting to see if you'll break Amber down.
"Unhh..." Amber dithers when you pull off her mouth again. "Um... just... just a little is okay, right?"
"Just a little what?" You ask. Amelia rams her hard and deep a couple times, battering her, knocking her head against the wall.
"Unh-- unh-- i-it's okay if she cums inside me just a little... right?"
"Is that what you want?" Amelia asks.
Amber nods desperately.
"Do you want me to take my condom off?" Amelia says, just to make extra sure.
"Yes..." Amber moans. Her voice is small and scared, but also drowning in need. "Take it off..."
You pull a 180 and film the glorious sight: of Amelia pulling completely out of Amber's tight twat, which is cherry red from getting fucked so hard -- of Amelia tugging on the reservoir tip of the condom and unsheathing her massive tool. She drops it, like discarding a piece of garbage, and the slimy thing falls draped over Amber's tummy to stain the already irreparably stained dress. Finally then, Amelia, her face leering, her cock drooling, lines herself up with Amber's unspoiled cuntlet... and with a grunting thrust, she spoils it.
"Just a little... just a little is okay..." Amber mewls, although you know she knows that it won't be "just a little" -- and that even "just a little" is still as risky.
"Lick me," Amelia tells you.
"Huh?"
"Get behind me. Lick me."
How could you say no to any of her demands? She owns your body -- heart and soul. "Keep filming," you tell Amber as you pass her the phone. You crawl behind Amelia, part the rear of her bunnysuit. With your face below the cottontail, you spread her cheeks. There you find her cute little asshole, and her gorgeous pussy. It's a pussy every bit as womanly as her dick is manly. It has defined lips, deep pink and runny with her arousal, all set in a plump, soft-looking mound. It makes your mouth water. So you put your mouth to work, and lick her from behind. On your elbows, you feast on Amelia -- her cunt, her balls, and her ass. She smells so good... she tastes even better...
Amelia starts to grunt, lost to her own pleasure, totally beyond the point that she could stop herself even if one of you told her no. That thought gets you hot. You reach between yourself and play with your cummy pussy, still licking, and think about that. You think about Amber having second thoughts, telling Amelia not to cum inside, and Amelia completely ignoring her. You kind of want it to happen.
But Amber's just as lost to pleasure. She wants it. She keeps her legs spread and the camera's lens focused on the lewd sight, and starts to beg like a bitch for Amelia's spunk. "Fuck me... fuck me... cum inside..." she rasps. Amelia's jiggly butt bounces between the two of you -- your face and Amber's cunt -- and she fucks herself into an abyss. Your tongue pokes into her asshole, roots itself there. You salivate freely into her anus. That does it. With a savage grunt that could have come from a Viking or an Amazon, Amelia's balls tighten, and she loses another thick load up Amber's twat. It's far from "just a little." You wiggle your tongue around inside her ass to encourage it, and massage her nuts to make sure you milk her dry. You want every last ounce of cum to go into Amber's womb -- and, as your dizzy head swims with perverse images, you strum your clit and cum hard to one image in particular: of you and Amber, naked, collared and leashed, the leashes both held by Amelia, your bellies both distended in the ninth month of pregnancy, Amelia's leaky cock jutting between your cheeks.
GIRLS FUCKED: 4/9