82 Nights with Christine Pt. 02

Author's Note : I know it's been a long wait since Part 1 of this series; as a reward for your patience, this installment has a lot of action. It's the story of our newly-dominant young futa's campaign to further expand her sexual relationship with -- and her dominance over -- her reluctant (but infatuated) housemate. If you're just coming across the series now you can jump in here and have a good time... but I'd go back and read Part 1.

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July 17 - Friday

This is so funny. The whole past year everyone's been non-stop bucking me up. I'm in a funk, so they tell me everything's fine: Things aren't actually so bad, Noah! You're doing ok. You're on the right track. You are smart & amazing. And so forth. All the while I'm feeling like total shit, convinced that everything I do is wrong and I'm fucking up my life.

But now, more and more every day since Christine arrived, I feel like a real person again. I wake up in a great mood, expecting the day will go well. Almost in spite of myself, I'm in a good place with this pseudo-romance with the futa teenager who's living with us. Ok, yes, she likes to take the wheel and set the terms of our relationship. But, I'm finding out that might not be the worst thing in the world: it's exciting and sexy and she hasn't once been wrong about what I'd like. I enjoy all the time we spend together, with or without clothes on. More importantly, I feel desired and desirable -- Christy is extraordinary, and somehow she's interested in me (Me!) of all people. And I feel fucking useful, too: she's so much more confident and outgoing than she was when she arrived, it's unbelievable, and I've clearly had something to do with that.

All of a sudden things really aren't so bad, and I am on the right track... so, naturally, now everyone seems very concerned about old Noah.

Dr. Morgan hit me with it first. As I'd promised myself, I finally came clean to my therapist (mostly) about what I've been up to with Christine. I expected she'd come at me with the same shit I used to obsess over (she's too young, she's living with you, she's technically family, etc.), so that's the discussion I was ready to have. Instead, she didn't seem at all worried about my being sleazy or exploitive. If anything, she was worried about the opposite: that I might be emotionally unready to stand up for myself, and I could do things I don't want to do. Alright, 10 points to Dr. Morgan for feeling out the vibe, even though she's actually wrong. But she also said she'd had a couple of patients years back who'd gotten involved with futas -- that the relationships had moved too quickly, and that the futas had been "cavalier" with her patients' wellbeing. It really sounded like those experiences were coloring her view of my situation, and she wasn't able to be objective. What, these two particular futas had been assholes, so now all of them are suspect? That's a little bullshit. If she knew the Christine I know, she'd see things differently. But I told her I'd keep it in mind.

Anyway, that was yesterday morning at Dr. Morgan's office, and then just six hours later Mom had the same damn talk with me. She came at it obliquely, which means she doesn't actually know that anything is happening -- she's not big on "dropping hints," so if she had more than suspicions about me & Christy it would've been a very different discussion. But she does have suspicions. She was getting some packing done for her trip while I was hanging out and chatting, helping grab this or that.

During a lull in the conversation, she asked me, all nonchalant: "So, will you guys be alright while I'm away? How are you and Christine getting along?" I'd been expecting something like this, so I had my own nonchalance holstered & ready to go.

"Good. Great. Christy's fun, I'm sure we'll be just fine."

"Yes, she is fun, but... Ugh. Noah, don't have too much fun."

"Mom?"

"Honey, haven't you seen the way she acts around you? I think she has a little crush. And I notice you don't seem to mind that at all, so I worry that--"

"Jesus, Mom," I said, cutting her off in the middle of being correct. "You're killing me here. We're friends, alright? She's just excited to be away from home for the first time. And even if you're right: she's a futa, and she's some kind of cousin, so I'm not gonna... this is nuts. I am not going to take advantage of Christy." Bravo! Encore!

Mom let a heavy pause sit in the air for a moment, as if weighing her next words. When she spoke it was softly, evenly: "No, honey, I don't think you're going to take advantage of Christine. But you know I talk with our family out in the Empire, and I hear things. Young futas can be very... assertive, with what they want. And you don't like conflict, so I worry that if what she wants is you, something might happen that you would later wish had not."

Yikes. We were not working off the script I had in my head for this talk, so I just tried to get out of it.

"Wow. Alright, Mom. You're wrong. I think you're wrong. But, in case you're not, I promise to... be chaste, I guess. I don't know what you want me to say. I'll try not to lead her on."

"Thank you, Noah," she said. "I'm sorry, I know this is uncomfortable, but I'm glad we talked."

"Sure, good talk. Good, horrifying talk..."

I didn't think anything of what Dr. Morgan had said, and I probably would have ignored my mother's paranoia if it had just been her. But to get two separate, nearly identical warnings in one day was a little jarring. I honestly think they're nuts to be suspicious of Christy, and I know her a hell of a lot better than they do. But then again, am I just too drunk on New Relationship Energy to see the forest for the trees? No, I'm not... but if I was, how would I know?

Dr. Morgan had a suggestion. I didn't offer details about what Christy & I get up to, but it was clear to her that we weren't literally fucking. What Dr. Morgan suggested was: maybe we shouldn't. She said that sex & emotions are tied up together, and I might find it easier to stay objective if I stop at blowjobs instead of bending over and letting Christy fuck the shit out of me (not her exact wording). Maybe that's a fair compromise? I wasn't exactly looking forward to something that sounds so uncomfortable, anyway.

In the meantime, Mom just left on her trip an hour ago: two weeks of stopping at various conferences and universities as part of a promotional tour for her upcoming book. That means two weeks of living alone with Christy, with no one to keep up appearances for. No matter what anyone else says, that doesn't make me anxious: I'm just impatient for it to start. Christy thinks she'll be stuck at work extremely late tonight, maybe even until morning -- I hope she's wrong, because I'd really like to be up to greet her.

July 18 - Saturday

Christy got in late last night, as expected. I was waiting for her at home, and before long I was feeling antsy and out of sorts, unsure of what to do with myself. I'm used to having our carnal escapades, sure, but more than that I think I'm used to having someone to hang out with at night. Eventually I found myself in my old bedroom (now hers), lying down and listlessly skimming an old book. The bed smelled like Christy, which at least was nice. At some point I drifted off. I think I had a dream about her.

When I awoke, sometime after 3:00 in the morning, I was lying on my stomach and Christy was on top of me, hugging me from behind; I hadn't heard her come in. I hadn't heard her take off her clothes, either, because I soon realized she was naked.

She was nuzzling me, kissing my neck and the side of face, sighing happily while ever-so-slightly rubbing her whole body against mine. This is not the worst way to wake up.

"What a nice surprise, finding you here," she cooed. "Did you miss me?"

"Mmmm, hey there. I actually did, yeah."

"I'm sorry I had to work. But I missed you, too," she said, then leaned her head down to kiss me for real. We stayed like that for a while, just lazily making out with Christy on my back, pressing me into the mattress. So, so cozy.

She gradually got friskier: kissing with more passion, running her hands across my arms and my scalp, and grinding her body into mine from above. Since she was naked I could actually feel her cock pulsing & stiffening against me, sliding up my inner thigh as it grew; that got my heart racing.

Once she was almost fully erect, Christy slipped her hands under my shirt, fondling every part of me she could get to. It was heady stuff, and I was becoming more and more lost in the moment as my rational brain happily powered down. So it took me a second to realize that Christy had gone from simple groping to pushing my shirt up over my head -- before I could process that it was even happening, I'd lifted my arms up over my head to help her; she tossed the shirt across the room.

With that done she went back to lying on top of me, except this time I could feel her bare breasts pressed against my skin. And this time, she was rutting into me in earnest, overtly, only the thin barrier of my shorts and underwear between my rear and the weapon grinding on it. She stepped up her fondling, reaching around to my front: my chest, my nipples, my stomach, then sliding down to rub my crotch (which she hardly ever does) and play at my waistband. I'm sure she could feel my dick twitching in my shorts when she did that.

It was obvious what she was getting at, and I was a whirl of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I still had the warnings from earlier that same day ringing in my ears, and I tried to remember all the good reasons I thought I had for not surrendering to her everything she might want. But at the same time, she made it awfully difficult. Her desire was intoxicating, her mere scent had my head swimming, and I was powerfully aroused -- would it really be so awful?

Faced with the impossible task of putting this uncertainty into words, I fumbled and began haltingly. "Christy... I... I don't..." No doubt knowing more or less what I was about to say, she cut me off before I could get started.

"Noah," she breathed into my ear, "I want you. I've wanted you for a long time -- can't you feel how much I want you? Mmmm... we can do more, you know? We can do so much more. And you'd love it, I know you would. Let me show you, Noah. Let me open up a whole new world for you..."

I made a whimpering sound and began a sentence, not even really sure how it would end. "I... ok, I... I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, I'm not sure I can. I'm not ready... I'm sorry."

I heard Christy let out this pained grunt in my ear and it brought me up short. It hurt to disappoint her -- I mean, it really hurt -- but there was also a giddy thrill at knowing I could still do that to someone I'm so in awe of.

I waited for her response. After a brief pause, Christy just said: "Ok." Shit.

"Are you mad?"

"No! No, no, no... you're the boss," she said, chuckling. "I couldn't be mad at you. It's just, I can see it so clearly. It would be a special thing, you know? But for now: you've got me all wound up, sugar. Can a girl get a little relief?"

"Oh god yes," I said at once. I was so happy to still be in her good graces, and my own need was daunting; god only knows what kind of shit she could get me to do if she really pushed. "Don't think I haven't been looking forward to this all day."

"Good," she said and climbed off of me. "Now roll those sweet cheeks over." *WHAP!* She emphasized the point with a playful spank on my right butt cheek that was just fun & games for her but happened to be the hardest I've ever been struck by another person -- she literally doesn't know her own strength. But I guess it worked: I rolled my sweet cheeks over to lie on my back.

Christine climbed aboard and sat on my lap this time, pinning my arms to my sides with her legs in the process. "So what did you have for dinner tonight, sweetie?" she asked.

"I, um... I just heated up some leftover, uh... casserole," I said. I struggled to get the words out because 96% of my brain's processing power was immediately drawn southwards to Christy's huge, erect, dangling... swaying... succulent... good lord. The long day spent thinking and dreaming of Christy had left me primed for this. She was a snake charmer and I was essentially hypnotized. I think she found it amusing.

"Heheheh... well that sounds boring. Would you like some dessert? Can I whip you up something special?" She began inching up my torso, one centimeter at a time, purposefully dragging her leaky cockhead across my skin, leaving a sticky wet trail to mark its passage. I just watched, rapt, mouth agape. "Noah! Focus. What do you think, hmm? Dessert?"

"Oh! Yes. Yes please, dessert..." Christy giggled once more and continued her advance. When she got to my chest her tip was waving right in front of my face, close enough for my lips to capture if I just craned my neck up a little. That's exactly what I did, but Christy lifted her shaft up and away from my mouth to keep it out of reach.

"Nuh-uh-uh, all good things to those who wait," she teased. She kept creeping forward until she was directly over me, her balls suspended mere inches above my lips. "Say 'Ah...'"

I started to say "Ah" and she immediately dropped her nuts into my mouth. Oh fuck it was good. She was teasing, having fun with it, but this had become serious business to me. My tongue lashed out and covered as much ground as it could, gathering her savory essence on my taste buds -- Christy sighed a happy sigh. She dipped a little lower and I moved to take one of the orbs into my mouth whole. They were so large, so swollen, I had to pry open my jaw as wide as it would go. When I swallowed it entirely, I was rewarded with a surprised "Ohh-AAH!" from above me. I was further rewarded by a tangy explosion in my mouth -- dear god, why does she taste so amazing? This was the best thing I'd had all day; it literally was dessert. I hummed in pleasure, and Christy enjoyed the tickling sensation from the vibration.

She let me cherish the breadth of her sack in that fashion for a few minutes, my arms still unable to reach around and touch her. As I worked on her balls, her cock continued to hemorrhage precum; with no tongue to lick it away or hands to smear it over her shaft, it simply beaded, and drooped, and finally fell. While my tongue worshipped her balls, Christine's salty nectar dripped onto my forehead like I was being anointed by a high priestess. That image flashed through my mind and I smiled in deep contentment; my dick throbbed in my shorts.

As much as I was enjoying all that, she finally pulled back to give me what I really wanted. She teased me with it, dancing her cockhead in front of my lips as I tried to capture it, before lining up with my open mouth and advancing it onto my tongue, which had snaked out like a landing pad.

I couldn't do much in this position -- though god knows I tried -- so before long Christy took over. She grasped my head from both sides, held it up, and proceeded, in simple terms, to fuck my mouth. Lovingly, at first. She rocked her hips back & forth, sliding her shaft across my busy tongue and sighing happily about how good I made her feel. But passion soon overtook her, and her thrusts became more forceful.

She began to regularly hit the back of my throat. It was an interesting experience: I'd be lying if I said it wasn't uncomfortable, but there were upsides. For one thing, as always, I loved watching her lose her composure, knowing that I was the one to bring it out of her. And I wanted even more than usual to satisfy her, to let her have her pleasure -- after denying her just a few minutes ago, it felt necessary & proper that I should have to work for it now.

And I could feel my gag reflex slowly melting away with each stab into the back of my throat. It's like my throat was being trained to accept Christy's cock more efficiently... or, no, it's not "like" anything: that's literally what was happening. The copious amounts of precum oozing out of her seemed to act like a balm, relaxing muscles and soothing discomfort wherever it spread.

But I'd never be able to deepthroat her from this angle. If Christy had pulled out for a moment I might've asked her to let me try from down on my knees, but she was too close now, and I think too intent on having total control. So instead, I used my hands to take out my dick and stroke it (lightly, very lightly) and try to time my orgasm for the instant hers landed on my tongue -- taking her cum adds this indescribable kick to my own climax.

Christy didn't make me wait long. Her thrusting became faster and more forceful, almost violent -- my eyes began to water and an obscene *gurkh gurkh* sound filled the air each time she bottomed out -- and she began spitting out filthy dirty talk she must have picked up from porn.

"Yeah, look at that! You love this cock, Noah! It's your best fucking friend! Oooh, take it you little mouth-slut! Fucking take it!"

I took it, doing my best to use my tongue to form the best cocksleeve possible. Christy's rod stiffened even further and loud, feminine wailing filled the air.

"OhhhhaaahhHHHHHHH FUCK! ARGHHH NOOOAAahhhhhhh...!" She exploded, firing the first volley hard enough against the back of my throat to trigger my last gag reflex. Two more shots followed into my throat -- while I came all over my stomach -- then Christy ripped her cock out from between my lips and held it in front my face, pumping it madly with her hand.

The eruption continued from two inches away and I wasn't ready. Hell, she cums so heavily and so forcefully, I'm not sure it's even possible to be ready. Stream after stream shot out and found it's target -- I swear to god, even with Christy's moans and the sound of her hand flying up & down her shaft, I could hear the hot, wet splat! of each rope slamming into my face. Reflexively I turned my head to move out of the way, but with nowhere to go that only uncovered new grounds for her cum wash over. There was just so much of it -- if her dripping precum onto my forehead had been an anointing, this was clearly a baptism.

Christy finally wound down. I felt her muscles relax and her weight settle back down on my chest; she was panting audibly. As for me, I was still dumbstruck. I had a heavy, viscous layer of ejaculate over seemingly every square inch of my face; my eyes were shut and I couldn't open them because of the streaks of cum covering my eyelids. ("Streaks," hell; it felt like pools.)

I pried my right arm free from underneath Christy and brought it up to wipe her seed from my eyes. When I could finally open them, I saw Christy staring down at me, her phone in her hands, taking a picture. Jesus.

"Uh, Christy?"

"Sorry! Sorry. I couldn't resist, you just looked so... oh man, it's a mess! But it's a beautiful mess, god damn."

"Yeah, I bet," I said. "That was, um, a little unexpected."

"I know. I'm sorry, baby. It's just, I've always wanted to try that. You didn't hate it, did you?"

"No, I guess not. Hey, about that picture..."

"Noah," she said, cutting me off. "Can you do something for me?" As she spoke she tossed her phone aside and brought her hand down to my face. Christy dragged her finger along my cheek, scooping up the spunk she'd deposited there, and brought it to my mouth. I guess that's one way to take control of the conversation... but I really didn't mind. I sucked her finger clean and she went back for more as she went on speaking.

"I know you don't like the idea of going all the way, or you're not ready, or whatever..." Another helping of her sweet sauce hit my tongue. "... and that's fine. I never, ever want you to do something you don't want to do. But, would you promise to think about it? For me?" She fed me more of her cum -- my god, how much is there? "I just feel so close to you, and I want to show you. I want to prove it, Noah. And I think you'd love it. You know I could never do anything that would hurt you. You know that, right?"