Futablog Ch. 02

When it was all over, nobody even said a thing about it. That girl deserves a medal of bravery, I swear to god, but also should learn to conduct herself with a bit more dignity. On an unrelated note, thinking about Dr. Lane going back to her office and rubbing one out just made me jizz my pants a little. Thought you'd all appreciate knowing that.

After the last lecture of the day, I head almost straight home. I meet back up with Connor to give him a lift back to his place, which is on the way, and today was, of course, no different. He noticed the precum stain on my jeans, and I walked him through the details of the story I just told you. He'd had Dr. Lane before, and even if he hadn't, everyone who goes here has at least heard about her raw sexual presence. Hearing about that futa girl's public display and Dr. Lane's wet crotch got him, predictably, to start pitching a tent, and I invited him to whip it out and jerk off while I drove him home. He, of course, obliged. Connor's a normal dude -- not futa gene in him to predispose him to having a monster cock -- but he's still got a pretty nice a dick; a good, slightly-above-average length, and an honestly surprising girth for a guy without a futa-mom. I did my best to give him some help, reaching over to the passenger seat to lend him a hand. He must've appreciated it, because he blew a load up his chest in the six or seven minutes it takes to get to his place. I asked if he wanted me to stick around for a while and properly have at it, but his whole family was home and he's a screamer. So instead we just wiped him down and said our goodbyes for the day.

And with that, I head home for the day. Usually Connor and I stop to meet up with some other friends while they get a late lunch or to shoot the shit; there's not a whole lot to do for fun around here, save a shitty old bowling alley we like to hang out at a lot. I suck at bowling, as do most of us, but it's usually pretty quiet there and the pizza's good. None of that today, though. I'll have to introduce you all to some of my friends another time, because, jeez, they arecharacters. Plus, most of us fuck, so they're bound to come up eventually.

Some days of the week, I have work to attend to before getting home. I work down at the school library, which is a very, very laid-back position. It's a sweet gig. The busiest it ever gets is when someone rolls in looking for a scholarly article or research paper we don't have on file and I have to fill out all the grunt paperwork to get it transferred in from somewhere else, but even that it's that difficult. Usually I end up working on homework during my shift, which is much appreciated seeing as all the distractions present at my house. I only get paid minimum wage, and only ever about six-to-ten hours a week, but it puts food money in my pocket. The other student workers are all real friendly, too, as are the librarians. One of the librarians, Mrs. Shaffert, is a middle-aged futa woman with a family not entirely unlike mine, and spends a lot of time complaining about her bratty, oversexed daughters. She gets a good laugh out of my stories, too--she was a lot like my sister when she was younger, she says, but lost just about all her libido as she got older. Her and her wife still get it -- I have heardvery detailed stories -- but she keeps out of her kids' shenanigans. She's got twins, two 19-year-old futas who are constantly spitroasting their older brother, but still admits that they're nothing compared to what I have to deal with. She's rad as hell for a 40-something year old, and we've smoked pot and jerked off together a few times after closing hours before.

No library shift today, though--I have Mondays off. Which means that after dropped Connor off, I headed straight for home, and got back sometime between three and four. When I get home, though, I usually sit and wait out in the car on the driveway for 15 minutes or so mindlessly scrolling through my Twitter feed; I need a moment to myself before I walk back into the chaos of my house. It's usually a wager weather Cara's gotten home before me, depending on what she's gone out and gotten up to after she gets out of school at 3; that, and she has to walk home. Her high school is in the opposite direction of my campus and Connor's house, so while Icould pass the house and go pick her up after school, usually I'd just rather not. My car is my sanctum, untouched by Cara's spunk and pervasive dick musk. I intend to keep it that way. Sure, I let other folks jerk off in my car, but most of them are easy to clean up after; if Cara got in here she'd probably flood the goddamn thing just to mess with me.

Today, Cara beat me home. I could tell the second I opened up the front door, because the sounds of dumb porn were coming from the living room. I left my jacket and my shoes at the front door and made my way over there to find Cara exactly how I expect to see her every day: camped out on the sofa, porn on the TV, her cock in her hands. She was lying down on her back, still fully clothed, but her short skirt gave her easy access to her fully exposed, fully erect member. She had her head turned on its side, diligently watching the screen display some futa-on-male gangbang scene while she casually worked up and down her shaft with one hand and groping her tits with the other. Cum had already spilled out all over her shirt.

She peeled her attention away from the screen for a moment to greet me, but her frisky hands did not stop. Her eyes drew to the wet spot on my jeans. "Oooh, Vicky, looks like somebody got a little excited at school today," she teased, sticking her tongue out at me. "Was it that hot stats professor?"

I scoffed at her. "Yeah, something like that. Some girl jizzed on the floor in class today."

This got her attention. She bolted upwards and turned, now sitting straight up on the sofa with her legs over the edge. "Wow, she's lucky she didn't set of a chain reaction!"

"Yeah, well, some people have a bit of self-control."

Cara sank back into the couch. "Boo, you're no fun." She turned her attention back to her dick, grabbing it with both hands and getting into a quicker rhythm. I grabbed the remote as I walked past her towards the kitchen and turned the volume of the TV down.

"Between the porn sounds and your hands slapping against your balls, I can barely hear myself think," I said. She didn't seem to care; she was in the zone. On the TV screen, two black futas double stuffed some white twink's asshole, prompting him scream wildly and explode all over his own chest. Some petite white futa woman with a disproportionally huge dick shoved her full length into his throat to shut him up. Cara's own orgasms followed soon after, but without at the yelling, and she fired what was surely her second or third load of her session all over her clothed tits and face. The orgasm barely fazed her, and she went right on beating off.

I set up shop in the kitchen on the island table, tossing down my backpack and pulling out my laptop in order to -- yup, you guessed it -- start writing this very blog entry. Sam's come home since I started writing, I guess he had gone out to grab some groceries or something. Cara made him uphold his promise from this morning, and he's been facefucking her in the other room for the better part of an hour. They're probably too preoccupied with each other to notice that I creamed my jeans not to long ago, and probably won't bug me until one of them has to tap out.

It's a little past six now, which means Rina will be home soon, and Veronica soon after her. I'm going to be honest; thinking about Dr. Lane all day has got me really in the mood for some good pussy and fat tits. I hope Sam and Cara tire each other out, because I want to get dips on Rina tonight. My mom and I have some pretty great sex; everyone else in the house is always senselessly pounding the daylights out of are holes, so the two of us have a tendency to default to slow, sensual sessions. I let her top, too, which nobody else hardly ever lets her do. And yeah, if you're thinking something about how it sounds hypocritical of me to "call dibs" on Sabrina or something, I'll let you have that. There's a difference between her and I, though, being that she usually enjoys being the family bicycle. It's only when Sam and Cara start to get aggressive and overly-persistent that she starts to get annoyed. Cara especially tends to refuse to stop once she gets going on her, even after Rina's came six or seven times and is completely worm out. I think she considers me a nice a change of pace from her more hypersexual children.

So, I'm leaking again. These jeans are getting absolutely destroyed. I think I'll call this entry quits here, I've got stuff I've got to do before the day ends. Like, homework and shit. Real responsibilities. Plus, I'm probably going to go beat off and get this load out to tide me over until Sabrina and I get some time together later tonight. I should probably go do it in private somewhere, so Sam and Cara don't get any bright ideas about trying to gang up on me, but with the two of them busy fucking like goddamn rabbits like ten feet away from, it would hurt to whip it out right here. There's still porn on the TV and everything. Cara's giving it to Sam in the ass now. Maybe I'll go hose the two of them down from a distance, do some trick shots. Entertain myself or something. I'll figure it out.

Anyway, yeah. That's it for today, folks. I'll be back soon, I have plenty more stories to tell, and there's no shortage of nasty shit happeneing to me everyday. Shit, yeah, I've still gotta tell you about Sam's girlfriend, or some stories about my friends. Like I said, plenty of more coming. But right now I have to go beat off.

--Vicky Faun

[A/N: Much longer this time, I think. Hopefully that explains the wait between chapters. The plan is to either write more shorter chapters, similar in length to the first one, probably, interposed with longer ones from time to time. I might combine multiple short "blog entries" into single chapters, too. Current planned entries are about Sam's girlfriend, Vicky's close friend group, an unfortunate public incident, and something more with the Faun family mothers--especially Veronica, who is yet to show up on screen. Any comments and suggestions are welcome. Let me know what you want to see, and thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter and starting following me after it. I wouldn't be writing this weird garbage if I didn't think anyone was reading it, lmao.]