Sometimes you just don’t have time for that long, slow loving, so you have to settle for a quick nut.
Stepping into the restroom cut the thump of the techno music to a distant throb, but she had a throb of her own. The guy she had been dancing with all night wants to meet her in the Rumpus Room. He knows she is packing and that she wants to get inside of him and he’s cool with it, even eager for it. She’d had to adjust herself before she could leave the dance floor.
She looks in the mirror as she comes in and watches herself walk behind the other girls touching up their faces. She isn’t vain, but she looks as good as any of them and in that red dress she looks better than most. There is no muffin top showing over her panties, no little roll around her bra strap. She is tight clean curvy lines with a hard ball of intent where her legs meet.
She steps into an empty stall. Part of her wants to pee standing up, just to freak the other girls out a little. Not that anyone would say anything. Even if they clocked her they wouldn’t mention it. But she never got clocked unless she wanted to. She was a ghost among them. That girl with a little something they could never provide, a competitive edge that sends some guys to the moon, like the cute Clark Kent look-a-like she is fixing to dip her wick in.
She knocks the last drop of pee off the tip and stands up to fix it back in place for the trip to the Rumpus Room. She pulls the dress down, but just before she tucks her little girl away she thinks of a selfie. She sets up her phone and looks at herself on the screen. She loves shots like these. She looks amazing and sexy, and then you get to the bottom of the dress and get that little twist at the end. Perfect. She takes the shot and posts it. Her girlfriends will know what the hashtag means.
He saw her standing alone across the large room. Her back turned to the party crowd as she looked out the windows and over the city. The long hair, the confident stance, the curves. They all caught his eye and drew his interest. She looked like a girl he’d like to ask out. He took note of the empty champagne glass at her elbow and snagged two fresh ones from a passing tray. As he approached he could see she was not like most of the other women at the party. There was a presence about her, a power or strength that he was drawn to. All the other skinny women seemed like fragile dolls while he could imagine wrestling in the sheets with this woman as she laughed and growled. Just the thought of that made his dick swell in his pants. All the better. He wanted her to see his bulge. When he arrived at her back he cleared his throat and said,
“Excuse me. I saw your glass was empty so I brought you a fresh one.” She turned and fixed him with an intense stare, assessing him. She noted his bulge.
“It’s empty because I don’t like champagne. I’m more of a beer girl.” Her eyes drilled into his. Challenging him to stay or slink off back into the crowd. He stood his ground.
“Oh? Well I guess that leaves more for me. Would you like for me to get you a beer?” His eyes drifted down over her. Pretty eyes, nice rack and….whoa! They snapped back up to hers. She had no reaction on her face when she challenged him again,
“See something you like? Want to ask me out now, or are you just another close minded guy?” He hated being called out and when someone challenged he had to meet it head on.
“Yes. I do want to ask you out. That’s the whole reason I came over here, but if you’re too busy playing the tough ass bitch and trying scare me away to be interested in a date, just come out and tell me. Then maybe I can have a shot at one of these other less interesting women.” His nostrils flared a little as he defiantly held his ground and sipped his champagne. A Mona Lisa smile touched her lips.
“You think I’m interesting?” He took another sip as his mind swirled with where this was going.
“Definitely.” He declared with a nod of punctuation.
“What if I’m too much for you to handle?” Now it was his turn to smile.
“I guess there is only one way for us to find out.”
He tossed back the last of the champagne, set the glasses on the window sill and offered her his arm. The surprise he saw on her face gave him sweet satisfaction after how things had begun. Her arm slipped through his and her hand gripped his forearm with a strength that gave him goose bumps. That wrestling match was going to be very interesting.
They had been dating for over a year now getting to know each other and settling into their relationship. To the outside world they appeared to be like any other loving couple, but as with most couples that was hardly the case. Kate and John were in love that part was true, but she was tired of hiding. Kate was the strong willed one in the relationship and had come to a decision. She was no longer hiding who she was. John was unsure about this new path, but Kate insisted.
Kate enjoyed pulling on her hot pink shorts without the usual tucks and adjustments as John looked on in consternation. John commented,
“Those shorts are pretty tight. They look uncomfortable. Maybe you should wear your kaki ones.” Kate sighed.
“They’re fine John and they match my lipstick. Besides, they’re more comfortable now than all the other times I’ve worn them. I thought you liked these shorts.” He mumbles
“I do. But they….well….they…make you…stand out.” Kate shot him a look then smiled.
“I know.” John was flustered.
“But can’t we start off with something a little less…obvious?” She loved his discomfiture.
“No honey. You love me right?” John nodded. “Just like I am, right?” Another nod. “Then you need to embrace it and let me be me. Don’t force me to hide who I am behind tucks and tape. Let the world know that your girlfriend is a tgirl and embrace it!” He gave her a dubious look.
“Does it have to look so….big?” She gave him another grin.
“Don’t you want the other guys to be jealous of you?” John heaved a sigh. He’d lost this argument several times already.
“I guess so.”
“Good!” She picked up her purse. “All ready!” She took one last look in the mirror and said, “I need a selfie to commemorate our first date with me out, so to speak.” She took the picture and posted it to her Instagram wall. “Now we’re ready.”
She took John’s hand and led him out the door and into a whole new world.
Not my caption, but I wanted to share it.
What will pop out this time…..let’s see….
It was my first time in Japan. The cherry trees were in bloom and their sweet fragrance floated on the air with the occasional delicious smell of cooking food. I was off the beaten path, away from the tourist areas, soaking up the local culture. It was early morning as I happened along the street in an area where I was getting more unusual looks than normal. Being a westerner in the East I stood out like a turkey in a chicken coop so receiving odd looks was becoming standard.
I had just passed a school and noticed small groups of girls carrying books and chatting as they headed toward it. They were wearing the kind of cute little uniforms that made guys have bad thoughts. I didn’t want to creep any of them out so I kept my head down and tried to hurry out of the area.
In my haste I almost collided with a tall girl. I stumbled as I took evasive action to avoid bowling her over and luckily she caught me by the shoulders before I did a face plant in the concrete.
“I’m so sorry miss! I didn’t mean to bump into you!” She steadied me before speaking.
“Oh! You’re American!” I smiled and nodded as I responded for the hundredth time.
“Yes. Guilty as charged. I’m from the states. I better let you get to class.” I stepped around her and took about two steps when her hand grabbed my shoulder again.
“Uh, Mister? I’m so sorry, but this just happened.” I turned back to find the front of her skirt resting on top of a hard penis. I took a double take from her throbbing erection to the concerned look on her face, back to the erection. I’d heard of Futanari, but thought they were just some urban legend. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you, being American and all, you’re not used to this.” I was concerned and wary.
“Used to what?”
“Well, you have given me and erection and you must take care of it for me. It is the honorable thing to do.” A cold chill ran down my spine. “You are an honorable man are you not?”
“I…..uh, sure, but….” She seemed relieved as she cut in.
“Oh good! We’ll have to make this a quickie. I don’t want to be late for my Physics class.” She reached for my belt as I sputtered and I tried to back away.
“Wait! I don’t understand!” She gave me that concerned look again.
“There’s nothing to understand. I’m going to stick my penis in your bottom to relieve my erection. That is what must be done. It is required of you since you caused it. Please! We are wasting valuable time!”
She grabbed me again and this time shucked my pants down around my ankles. With smooth movements she pushed me a couple of steps to a sign post, bent me forward at the waist and placed my shoulder against the post. I felt the tip of her penis rubbing a slippery substance all around my anus and then she entered me. Fully. She unceremoniously began pumping. Each thrust pulling a soft girlish ‘ugh, ugh, ugh,’ in a steady rhythm.
My eyes were closed and my mind reeling as this girl had her way with me. Then to my even deeper humiliation I heard a sing-song voice declare,
“Cho, you’d better hurry! Class starts in ten minutes!” The giggle that followed let me know that it had been spoken in English on purpose. When my eyes opened I saw three girls, much like Cho, walking past and the one closest caught my eye and winked at me as she puckered up and gave me an air kiss. Their giggles faded away as they past us.
Cho’s rhythm was increasing. She was pistoning in and out with deep urgency when suddenly she buried herself to the hilt.
“Aheeeeeeeeee! Uhg! Aheeeeeeee! ugh……ugh…..ugh.” Cho’s release echoed from the buildings and anyone within six blocks would know she was having an orgasm. I felt her cum hard and in an unbelievable volume. I could see my lower abdomen stretching slightly as she grunted a few times to finish topping off a load that would have challenged a bull. She pulled her penis from me with a soft plop.
I looked back at her as her juices ran down the insides of my thighs and saw the innocent looking school girl tuck her flaccid penis back into her panties then straightening her skirt. She met my eye and smiled.
“See you after school.” was all she said.
My stories frequently depict very dominant scenes. Strong top girls taking the men they want and not caring about anything else. I love to write these stories. They set my mind free from the everyday hum drum, allowing me to explore a world that I want to visit, even if I am not sure I want to live there.
Top girls take my breath away. The more beautiful they are the more I stand in awe of how they can make a guy feel. I am sure that if I ever met my muse, Foxy Angel, or any of the the other amazing tops that grace adult entertainment I would be completely tongue tied. Stammering out how beautiful she is while shivering in my skin, sure in the knowledge that she could spread my legs and take me places I have only ever dreamed about.
I read in chat rooms that there are no true tops out there. The ones that do top are only doing it for the money. I wonder if that is true? Is it a simple case of economics? As soon as there is enough money in the bank for that last big surgery will they walk through that hospital door and knock those last dusty bits of maleness from their pumps? Maybe. If you spend your whole life dreaming of having wings to fly and the doctor tells you he can make it happen, are you going to continue riding around in a plane? Doubtful.
But I don’t buy into that chat room BS that its all about the money. If that were the case wouldn’t more girls take the final cut as soon as possible? Okay, so I can hear the cynics out there saying their just riding the gravy train till time and gravity forces them into the station. I’m sure some are doing exactly that, which is no different than a pro athlete milking his talent to the end so who can blame them?
I think there are changes just over the horizon. To my eye there are more top girls out there than ever before and finding their work on the internet is easier than ever. They are still rare and special, but not unicorn rare, more like eagle rare. Which means that you can find them if you know where to look. I believe there are girls out there who have realized being a beautiful top is to be worshiped. Guys are begging and pleading you to take them and make them your own. If you are a top girl, whether all the time or just when it suits you, I would encourage you to embrace it. Be that Eagle so many guys are searching for and know what it is to be worshiped.
I can’t help it. I like the occasional fantasy about a Tgirl being able to get a guy pregnant. Here’s a little mpreg caption along those lines.