Futa Cucks the Boyfriend Pt. 02

Hi everyone, finally managed to finish this one, it's part of the 'vote-your-own-story' series, hope you all enjoy, will put another vote out very soon! Please comment your thoughts and let me know if you liked it!

TSG123 x

-

Olivia looked up into deep, brown eyes, and hummed with contentment.

Her legs were parted, crotch soaked, arms hugging the woman on top of her who was sliding her huge cock in and out of Olivia's quivering snatch.

The girl moaned as she wrestled with the thickness of that dick inside her, overcome with such a feeling of fullness that it was impossible to resist. She could only let herself be carried by it, coaxed towards a state of total release.

"Ooooooh."

"That's it baby," said Roselyn, who was grinding, merging their hips in a slow rut that had Olivia cooing with each sheathing of her dick.

The gaze that Roselyn bore was one of intense concentration, so overcome was she by the tightness of the girl's pussy, the way her pin-prick nipples rubbed up against her hard thimbles.

"Huuh!"

The smaller figure was beginning to smile, a weird manic curve that was somehow apart from herself, not even hiding how much she was enjoying the sensations plunging deep into her belly.

"Cum for me," Roselyn commanded, a muscle tightening in her jaw, and Olivia felt it all bubble up, obediently heaving as her pussy lips began to spasm around the thick entrant, fingers digging into Roselyn's back as she swamped their crotches in pussy juice.

"Huuunnnnnnnn...."

The young woman's grimace became a soul-deep smile as pleasure overtook her, and Roselyn let out a few final jerky pumps of her legs before burying herself inside, moaning as she felt the liquid heat surrounding her cock.

As soon as it began jerking within her, Olivia whinnied, huffing through the sensation of pints of cum flowing into the incredible mixture in her womb, a sharp cocktail of bodily fluids that glued their lower halves together, overflowing onto the bedsheets as the two figures writhed in each other's arms.

Somewhere outside a car-horn blared, but the figures remained connected, a single organism basking in calmness after the storm.

After a minute of enjoying the post-coital haze, Roselyn muttered in Olivia's ear.

"Having any second thoughts?"

Olivia snorted, and pressed her lips into the gorgeous woman above her.

Roselyn didn't hesitate, and buried her tongue so far down the girls throat that when she came up for air both girls were red in the face and heaving oxygen into their starving lungs.

"None... whatsoever," Olivia panted.

Roselyn didn't even bother replying, wrapping her up in another kiss.

***

Martin picked up the frozen pizza that had clattered to the floor moments earlier, and placed it back on a baking tray.

Darting eyes checked left and right for things that weren't there, the diminutive figure grasping the oven door and shoving the pizza inside, fiddling with a few switches on the side until a light came on.

Hopefully that meant it was working.

How long?

'I guess start with thirty minutes.... then figure it out.'

Fingers which usually bustled with energy were lackadaisical as he twisted the dial, and a voice which previously would have bellowed in his head instead came out as a strained whisper.

It proudly suggested another DJ mix to take his mind off of Olivia being rag-dolled in front of his eyes.

A new, calmer, but very convincing voice once suggested otherwise.

Martin gripped the edge of the counter.

Life without Olivia was hitting a lot harder than he had expected.

He sniffed, wandering aimlessly around the flat, nudging aside a few fast food boxes and some dirty clothes.

Every time he thought about it, images of that woman's smile as she devoured his girlfriend would pour back in. The worst moments were when he got hard and ended up masturbating about it, spewing his cum over the bathroom floor whilst picturing Olivia gurning as Roselyn rearranged her insides, feeling the smell of her juices in the air.

The reality of being alone had never really hit home until the third week.

At first, after recovering from shock, he had bounced back to his near-churlish self, passing Olivia's rampant pleasure off as childish enthusiasm, and expected her to return within a day or two at most, apologising in short order.

When Olivia hadn't shown up after three days, the nerves had begun to jangle.

A week later with zero contact, he had reached a state of loss that was new and raw, like alcohol poured on an open wound.

She wasn't coming back... and he wasn't going to get her back unless he changed something.

Restless feet carried him to one end of the flat, and back again.

How?

With his head bowed, Martin came to the kitchen table, grabbing pen and paper on his way past the shopping list.

He muttered and scribbled.

'What does Olivia like?'

Cooks. Cleans. That tv show... What was its name?

He put his head in his hands.

Three years, and he barely knew her.

Okay, so what did women in general like?

He began to write some legible words on the paper.

Sex?

Olivia moaned as Roselyn spanked her.

Martin shivered, trying to urge his cock not to rise in his shorts as he moved on.

Flowers.

Chocolates.

Poetry?

He looked at the short list he had written and stared at it. He wasn't exactly swimming in money now that Olivia wasn't there to hold up the fort...

Poetry it is then.

Without a single note of concern as to whether he could actually create something worthy of human eyes, he began to scribble on the paper scrap in front of him.

The Pizza remained cold, alone in the unheated light of the oven.

***

"No, it can't be Martin!... Really?"

"Well.... He can be creative..."

"Yes, in how to find new ways to offend people."

Roselyn scanned down the paper, squinting at a particular place.

"Is that a... G?"

Olivia glanced at it.

"It's a U."

Roselyn's eyebrows rose, rotating the poem in case she'd been reading it the wrong way up.

"Pfft, not exactly Shakespeare."

"Yeah, he did make an effort though."

Roselyn chuckled.

"You know... I'm actually warming to him..."

She read through the poem once more, stretching herself out across the bedsheets.

Though sorry I am.... As water to a rose....

"Did he ever tell you he did this?"

"No," Olivia murmured, pinching it from her lover's hands to read it through again, snuggling up to rest her head on the naked breasts which she had learnt also doubled as wonderful pillows.

It was sweet, for sure...

Though I cannot express the rhymes... In truth there only is the time...

"I mean... it's awful," she muttered, although her eyes stayed glued to the paper.

Roselyn stroked her cheek, grinning.

"Having second thoughts?"

Olivia smiled back.

"No."

Roselyn ran a hand through her hair.

"I don't know... I'm getting a few potential ideas," she said slowly, a note of slyness entering her voice.

Olivia gave her a suspicious look.

"Like what?"

Roselyn stroked the poem now, fingernail lingering on the etched ink.

"Well if he continues like this, maybe he deserves another chance."

Olivia giggled.

"Well... I mean... even if he's changed, he's not exactly the best in bed..."

Roselyn placed her fingers onto Olivia's lips, teasing the delicate bands which wrapped themselves around her digits, sucking them in.

"I think that depends what position we put him in."

Olivia's clit began to tingle as she cottoned onto what Roselyn was saying, still sucking on her fingers.

"Mm that's reeeaaallly mmmhh... mean..."

Roselyn chuckled, feeding the girl with a slow pump, sliding her fingers across the girl's tongue.

"Maybe... but he should've thought about that before he decided to grow a personality."

Olivia felt a hand snaking down between her legs, and juddered as it began to rub just around the lips of her sex.

"Hmmmmmm...."

***

A sea of scrunched up paper surrounded Martin as he sidled to the kitchen, clutching one particular scrap in his fist.

He'd been writing every day; in fact for some reason it had begun to consume him. He found it enjoyable beyond merely being a vessel to try and win Olivia back, becoming a means of acknowledging things that he had more often than not forced from his mind or avoided entirely.

The scruffy figure fished around for a noodle pot and found one, removing the plastic top and putting the stove on with a pot of water. Whilst it boiled he grabbed an envelope, one of a hundred that he was steadily working his way through, and placed the new poem carefully inside.

Roughly every other day he sent one.

As he went past the front door to post it, he paused, and looked down.

Someone had written to him. The letter was small, about the size of his palm.

The pot began to bubble in the background, increasing in volume as he bent down and delicately caught this precious new item between his fingers, bringing it to the kitchen.

The bubble became a loud gurgle as eager digits ripped through the envelope, revealing a short card.

It wasn't Olivia's hand writing.

The lid fell to the side, releasing the steam being created, and his head whipped round. He grimaced and rushed over to turn off the heat. Was that how it was supposed to be? Olivia had never made the lid fall off... at least, he didn't think so.

But then, Martin had never really watched her cook.

His eyes fell back on the tiny letter addressed to him, and he ripped the smart-looking seam, withdrawing a small card with a note on it.

I like your poems. Do you have one for me?

- Roselyn x

"What....?"

He gripped the note in his hands from the woman who had openly claimed his girlfriend in front of his eyes, tears coming unbidden. After a few seconds he wiped them away on his shirt, looking down at the message, and then at the solitary 'x'.

He remembered the way her curves had been barely contained by the lingerie, the way her caramel skin had shone under the kitchen lights.

No.

'You can't think of her like that.'

She had fucked his girlfriend.

A sob escaped his lips as he remembered her caressing Olivia's breasts, bringing such pleasure to her face, and heat rushed to his groin.

'No, no, no....'

That turgid cock, swinging left and right, obscene between the giantess's legs.

Hands found his hard penis before he could reason with himself, and then he was shoving down his waistband and pumping away in the middle of the kitchen, head jerking as he wanked himself with furious abandon.

Do you have one for me?

"Guuuh," he grunted, flinging a long rope of cum into the air, and another, and another.

The glorious spasms lasted a few seconds as he whined, basting the tiled floor in his worthless seed.

When the last spurt exited his slit, he shivered, steadying himself on the kitchen counter with a shaking hand.

'What is wrong with me....'

Leaving the cum strings on the floor, he traipsed to the bathroom to clean himself up, finding the lid of the toilet.

Martin sat there for a moment.

'I'm losing my mind.'

Roselyn's grinning face swam through his head.

He masturbated twice more in the next eight minutes.

After sitting on the toilet covered in his shame, Martin showered and forced himself to clean up the mess on the kitchen floor, which took far longer than necessary (he hadn't used any of the multitude of sprays that Olivia had purchased before, and hoped the one he had picked was correct, although it looked a little greasier than perhaps it should.)

His eyes were drawn to the note left on the counter.

Roselyn - x

Fingers crawled to a pen, and he began to write.

***

Roselyn nodded her head in delight.

"Ohhhh, NOW we're talking!"

Olivia peered over the woman's shoulder (which is hard to do when you're shorter), and gawped.

A face of Cleopatra, the cleft between your breasts like the river of the Nile...

"Is it definitely him?"

"I mean, no-one else could so creatively mislabel me in the first line of a poem.... Do I look Egyptian to you?"

"Wait, I thought you were just American?"

Roselyn's eyebrow rose.

"Mother's Spanish.... and fierce."

"I'll bet," muttered Olivia.

"You should meet her sometime... real pitbull."

"You're really not selling this."

Roselyn chuckled as her eyes spun down the scribbled prose.

"He saved it with the line about my ass being 'two planets aligning in perfect harmony.'"

Olivia smiled.

"Should we send one back?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Okay, I'll grab the notepad."

"No, let me," said Roselyn, putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her back to the couch, where she sat awkwardly, "You've been running around for people enough."

Olivia stretched out like a cat on the sofa.

"Yeah... I guess you're right."

She watched with a grin on her face as Roselyn's incredible buttocks swayed away.

It was infuriating how good that ass looked in all clothing. Dresses, pants, naked....

'Especially naked', she mused.

Not only was it cute how Roselyn was doting on Olivia, but the encouragement she gave was fresh and exciting, especially for someone who hadn't been able to branch out from work and homelife. New food, unusual styles and clothing... She was currently wearing lacy underwear that she would never even have considered a month earlier, plus she had ended up rediscovering some things that she had abandoned in the haze of her day-to-day slog... she'd begun drawing again, although she was well out of practice. A kindergartner with a packet of crayons could probably give her a run for her money.

Had it really just been four weeks?

It felt like being woken up after a long sleep; Witnessing the way Roselyn grabbed situations by the scruff of the neck, be it work, relationships, or even just dragging them both out of bed for an impromptu walk in the park.

But then, they spent more than enough time in bed....

She curled her back on the sofa, enjoying the plushness of the cushions.

It was weird how quickly she had moved on from Martin, but now seeing the effort that had been lacking in their relationship, it seemed pretty obvious why she didn't feel the need to go back.

Roselyn returned with a pen and paper, pulling Olivia out of her thoughts.

"Scoot."

Olivia obediently took her feet off the couch, but Roselyn grabbed a leg as she sat down and placed it on her lap.

"Not too far," she grinned.

She began to put her tongue to the side of her mouth as she scribbled out some lines.

*Pretty little boy.... Though your words are sweet.....*

"Wow, just like that huh?" muttered Olivia, peering over at the neat handwriting arranged across the page.

"Why, planning a masterpiece?"

"Ha I don't know... I don't really do poetry."

Roselyn snorted.

"Neither do I.... To show your affections... I think we should meet.."

*Come and talk. Wednesday, 4pm -- Roselyn x*

Olivia smiled, before a curious expression took over.

"Hmm.... Ros.... Are you serious?"

Roselyn glanced at her.

"Well yeah. I mean... I wasn't at first, but..... he's actually trying bless him... plus I can't help but think about his expression as I took you..."

Olivia's mouth opened slightly, breathing a little deeper as Roselyn's eyes went misty.

"... The way he couldn't help his arousal.... The realisation...."

"Ohh," murmured Olivia, whose clit was beginning to tingle as Roselyn placed a hand firmly on her shin.

"I enjoyed that feeling."

Her clit was throbbing.

"So did I."

***

Martin shuffled on the porch, placing his hands in front of, then behind him.

Time to knock.

His hand reached up, and paused.

There was no wind, and yet he swayed gently, a bamboo buffeted side to side by invisible storms.

"Just... here we go..."

His hand reached an inch from the surface, repelled by invisible magnets.

Martin bristled and set himself, puffing up his chest.

*THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK*

A moment passed.

The wait was gut-wrenching as he shifted left and right again.

The gentle *clink* of the lock opening made him tremble, and when the door opened, he came face to face... with Olivia.

She was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt which hugged her lithe figure.

Martin's face fell.

He had been expecting Roselyn to be looking down at him, and somehow seeing sweet, gentle Olivia disarmed him completely.

"Oh er... hello..."

"Hi."

"Um... May I come in?"

"You aren't going to ask me how I am?"

Martin's mouth opened slightly.

"Oh! Um.. yes, how are you?"

"Great," she said with a soft smile.

"Ah.. good..... and um.. how's Roselyn?"

"She's incredible."

Olivia bit her lip as Martin's face went bright red.

"Oh um.. that's good... great..."

"I didn't know you did poetry."

"Well that's.. because I didn't."

She sized him up, measuring this Martin to the one she had left behind a few weeks ago. He seemed different.

"...Um.."

A sudden, quite brazen voice in Martin demanded him to tell Olivia to come home, and the quieter one which had been so gently steering his actions, was unable to stop him.

"You should come home."

Olivia rolled her eyes.

There he was.

"Come in."

She turned her back to him and walked down the hall, and Martin pressed his lips together and followed.

"Shut the door behind you!" called Olivia, Martin pausing halfway in to jerk the door closed and saunter after her.

Now was the time of reckoning.

He followed Olivia down the hall, and into the living room, and the bluster that had picked up steam dissipated instantly upon seeing Roselyn lounging on the sofa, laid out like a tiger, her head rising to welcome him.

"Oh hello there," she growled, as Olivia came to join her, nestling into a little spoon position.

The loud voice in his head had disappeared into the wind the moment that wavy, long hair and casual smirk came into view, and he was left feeling quite naked, standing awkwardly in the entrance of the room.

Roselyn appraised him like a proud mother, eyes roving up and down him.

"Well then... I see we have a slightly different view of things now?"

His brain offered no response, and Olivia snorted.

"Not totally."

Roselyn chuckled, stroking her chin, and Martin whimpered as the young woman acted like a cat having its fur stroked, purring as she pressed back into the thickness of Roselyn's hips, the warmth of her chest.

"Well, let's see.... Sit."

Martin sent himself to the second couch close by, sitting in the centre.

On the table were a few of his poems.

"Hmm... feeling a little lonesome are we?"

No response, except a doleful look.

"I loved your poem for me in particular by the way."

"Thanks."

Roselyn raised her eyebrows.

"Ah, he speaks!"

Martin didn't respond, to which Roselyn chuckled.

"Oh, you really are a cutey aren't you? My goodness, it's quite the turnaround...."

Olivia looked back, whispering something, and Roselyn burst out giggling.

"W...what?" uttered Martin, adjusting himself, and finding it hard to get comfortable despite the plushness of the cushions at his back.

Roselyn bit her lip.

"She said... a big dick will do that."

The hurt shone on Martin's face, and Roselyn raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, baby it's okay... Because you know what? I'm gonna give you a second chance."

Olivia raised her eyebrow but said nothing. She knew there was no chance of him winning her back, and though part of her was wierded out by it, the other was eagerly awaiting the coming humiliation.

"I assume you remember our... little bet?"

His positive expression faltered.