Intoxicated

By the end of their encounter a few hours later, the redhead was passed out altogether. Between the booze and the insane number of orgasms she had endured, it had overwhelmed her and put her to sleep. Her recently used pussy was dripping with the fourth load from Phoebe, and her pretty, red hair was plastered to her sweat covered forehead. Smirking at the sight of her latest conquest splayed out on her disheveled mattress, Phoebe went to her bathroom to rinse some of the fluids from her face and body. God, she needed that. Now she felt nice and drained and satisfied. Of course, she really wished it had been a different partner. One tall, hunky neighbor of hers certainly came to mind. In fact, he had come to mind more than a few times over the past several hours, Phoebe frequently imagining it was James who was taking her pounding and crying out in bliss while she said dirty things to him. Fuck, now she was getting hard again.

The next morning, the redhead girl stumbled out of Phoebe's bedroom at around ten o'clock. She looked hungover and she was walking funny. Hiding a smile behind her coffee mug, Phoebe walked over and gave the exhausted girl a kiss. Holding up a little piece of paper for her to see, Phoebe slipped it in the girl's back pocket, copping a feel along the way.

"My number." She explained. "In case you ever want a repeat of last night."

The redhead nodded and mumbled something incoherent as she was walked to the front door. Opening it, Phoebe ushered the girl out and was about to close it when she noticed James outside of his own apartment, flattening down cardboard boxes in the hallway for recycling.

'Excellent!' she thought to herself. 'I don't even need to go knocking on his door.'

"Good morning, neighbor boy."

James looked up from what he was doing as she sauntered over to him, a gracefully sexy smile painted on her face.

"Oh, good morning, Phoebe." He greeted, putting the next crushed box in the stack. "I'm surprised to see you up this early on a Saturday. Wasn't your bar open pretty late last night?"

"Coffee works miracles, sweetie." She laughed. "I missed you there, you know. You never stopped by to say hello!"

She added a little pout to give him the 'cute little girl' visual.

"Sorry about that." James apologized. "I just wanted to finish unpacking and setting up my apartment. I can't have anyone over until that's complete."

"Oh, inviting a girlfriend over?"

"No, nothing that serious." He laughed.

"So, you're a player, then? Plenty of girls, no girlfriends?"

"Let's just say, I haven't found the right one yet." He shrugged.

"Well, maybe..." She stepped closer and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "You're not looking in the right places."

Tapping her index finger on her chest once, she spun around and walked back to her apartment, throwing an extra sway in her hips as she went.

"Oh, hey, Phoebe. You still watch wrestling?"

'Bingo.'

"Why yes, I do." She replied, turning around to smile at him from her front door.

"There's a WWE Pay-per-view on tomorrow." James said. "If you're free, I would love to watch it with you."

'I'm sure you would, buster.'

"That sounds like fun. What time is it at?"

"It starts at eight.

"Come over at quarter to seven, then."

"You want me to come to your apartment?" He asked.

"Don't you know a lady always prefers her own place?"

With a wink, she disappeared through her front door.

"That went well." Phoebe giggled to herself now that she was alone.

Perfect. It had played out even better than she expected it to go. She had only gone over to talk a little and plant some seeds of desire within him, but he had bitten even earlier than she hoped. With him coming over to her apartment, it gave her perfect opportunity to work her magic and have him swooning over her before the night is through. Then, she would show him how she really did things.

That night at the bar, she could hardly work. Just thinking about the next day had her hard in her shorts, threatening to bust through the seams of her little pants. Every time she looked at one of the pretty, young things that walked through the door, she would get tempted to take one of them back to her place to blow off this steam that was boiling inside her. Heck, even the back office would have done for a location. But she wanted to save it all up for the main event on Sunday. If she played her cards right, she would have plenty of gas in the tank to rock James' world twice over. In the end, she did wind up in the back office, but she was alone instead of stuffing some honey. She secluded herself to watching YouTube videos to kill time until closing and went home, eventually finding sleep.

The knock came at her door at 7:45 on the nose on Sunday. Doing a quick once-over to check her appearance in the mirror, Phoebe answered the door. Her heart throbbed along with the staff between her legs when she saw him. James was just wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but they hugged his frame just right and stoked the fire that had been burning inside her all day long.

"Right on time, neighbor boy." She greeted, smiling at him. "I was afraid you might blow me off like last time at the bar."

"I never miss an appointment that's been set." He replied.

"Well, what kind of man would turn down an appointment with a beautiful woman?" she joked.

'Seriously, who would?' she thought to herself.

She was still a little steamed that he hadn't come to see her at the bar the other night, but now that didn't matter. He was through her front door and in her clutches. No way would he be able to resist her.

"Just take a seat on the couch." She called over her shoulder, as she went into the adjoining kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

"Beer, if you've got it."

"If I've got it?" She scoffed. "What kind of bar owner doesn't have beer in their own home?"

Returning with a couple cans, she handed one to James and took a seat on the couch next to him. Close, but not too close. Just near enough that he could feel the gentle warmth of her body heat without them touching. She had to make him want to close the distance.

But he didn't. No matter how thick she drizzled the honey in her voice, or how many innuendos she threw into their conversation throughout the night, James didn't make a move on her. At all. It was beyond puzzling to her. How could this straight, red-blooded man ignore her subtle-but-not-that-subtle advances like this? Was he just playing hard to get on her?

The even more confusing thing to her, though...she was having fun. A lot of fun. James was surprisingly charming. He was smart and well-spoken and funny, even. She found herself laughing out of reflex far more than she had in a long time. It struck her that this was kind of the first real date she had had in...forever? Usually her 'dating' was just hooking up, fucking like rabbits, and then maybe she'd see them again, maybe she wouldn't. She had never really talked to any of her partners before. And this wasn't even a real date! What the hell was going on???

When the pay-per-view event finally ended, she couldn't believe how fast the time had gone by, and how little progress she had seemingly made. That was further underlined by James standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to give her a glimpse of his abs and make her mouth water.

"Thanks for watching this with me, Phoebe." He spoke. "I had a great time."

"Aww, you're leaving already?" she pouted, masking her genuine disappointment with a flirtatious, joke-y tone.

"I actually work at a normal hour." He laughed. "So, I need to be up in the morning. But I would love to do this again. It doesn't need to be for the big events only. We can watch the weekly shows, too, if you want."

"If you insist." She forced a giggle.

"Good night, Phoebe."

And then he was gone. And Phoebe was left alone with a screaming sex drive that she had ignored for two days. This was going to be harder than she thought. But now, she was more determined than ever. Things had gone well enough that he wanted to see her again. Maybe even tomorrow night, since RAW was on Mondays. There was no chance that this didn't go her way. Smiling to herself and ignoring her annoyed dick, she firmed her resolve again. She WOULD make him bend under her thumb, no matter how many days it took.

A week went by. Then two. Then it was a month...and another. Suddenly, two and a half months were passed and still nothing! Not one single thing had happened between them. They hadn't even hugged, let alone had sex! And all that the time had done was make Phoebe even more desperate. She still managed to mask it all under her flirty exterior whenever she was around him, but inside she felt like a longing puppy. It was embarrassing. It wasn't like her. Was she...was she falling in love with this guy?!

The worst days were the ones when he would bring home a girl. It happened a couple times a week. Never the same girl, though. Some random hottie would come down the hall, arm in arm with him, and they would disappear into his apartment. Then, she would hear the little tart screaming her head off as he fucked her through the somewhat thin walls. On those nights, she would be extra aggressive with her hookups, trying her best to out-do him and make her partner scream louder. By the time it was over, her poor date would be fucked half out of their mind, and she still wouldn't feel any better about it. Sometimes, he would stop by the bar after work and have a couple drinks. But if he ever left with anyone, it certainly wasn't her. It was one of the nameless girls sat at one of the booths or tables.

Finally, it got to a breaking point one Friday night when they were in her apartment, watching Smackdown. She had to say something, or she was going to go crazy. Her plan had failed. She would need to change up her game a bit. Take the initiative.

"I see you still haven't found a girlfriend." She started, interrupting the temporary silence that had grown while they watched the current match. "I mean, I'm assuming none of those girls are actually a girlfriend. Right?"

"No, they're just a bit of company." James replied. "No girlfriends yet."

"Hmm."

Another minute of silence formed between them as Phoebe had an internal argument with herself. One half of her wanted to say what she was feeling, the other half told her to play the game as she always had. Eventually, she arrived at a compromise.

"How come you never ask me out on a date, neighbor boy?"

"You?" James asked, a surprised look on his face.

"Yes, me."

"I thought you were gay. Or a lesbian, rather. I mean, you always bring home girls, right?"

Oh. A torrent of self-deprecating insults swirled around in Phoebe's brain at that revelation. THAT was why none of her moves had ever registered any effect on him?! Her own libido had crushed her chances from the start! The moment he saw her, or heard her, with that little redhead months ago, her plan had been destined to fail. And every time she sated her lust by ravaging some other girl, the hole had only been dug deeper. She had quite literally shot herself in the foot.

"No, those girls are...just a bit of company." She laughed, masking her own fury with herself by using the same excuse he had. "I enjoy ladies as appetizers, but the main course will always be men for me. So? Now, will you ask me out on a date?"

"Sure." James laughed. "I mean, I'd love to. I guess that's pretty much what we've been doing since I moved here, really. When are you available?"

"Oh, how about..."

She paused and pretended to think over her schedule.

"How about here and now."

James's eyebrow raised a little, and he slid closer, finally closing the couple inches of distance that had been between them since the beginning.

"I think my calendar is free then." He answered, leaning down towards her.

Phoebe practically melted into the sofa when his lips pressed against hers. God, finally! Finally, after all this time! It felt so right! His lips against hers, and his tongue pressing into her mouth. His muscular arms snaking around her waist to pull her close. Just the size of his frame compared to hers made her-....

No! She had to remember to stick to her guns. She couldn't get lost in the moment now. Now was her chance! Her shot to make him crumble under her and submit. She couldn't let herself end up the one wilting under the heat.

Forcibly clearing the pink fog clouding her brain, Phoebe pushed back into the kiss, edging the aggression up on her end. She had to establish dominance here and set the tone, then leave him begging for more. Grabbing his broad shoulders, she pushed him back to sit flat against the couch and leapt over to straddle his lap, putting herself on top. In a more favorable position, she went back to work making out with James, eagerly devouring his mouth with hers while her tongue won back the ground it had lost and pushed forward.

She almost lost her cool again when his strong hands came up and grabbed her sides, firmly latching onto her slender waist and sending a shiver through her body. They only continued to be more of a distraction as he shifted about her body, sliding his hands up her sides and then back down where they found her voluptuous ass, clad in her signature jean shorts. She had to admit that it was pretty nice to have a partner who knew how to hold her and take some initiative, rather than have her simply carry the whole encounter and take full control. As long as she ended up on top, what did it matter if she allowed him to explore her body a little. Especially when it felt this nice.

Suddenly, she was airborne. James stood up from the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he carried her towards her bedroom. Once inside, he gently seated her on the edge of the bed, their lips still latched together. Allowing the minor change of roles, Phoebe carried on with their embrace. It wasn't until James pulled her off the bed and set her down on her knees that she began to have concerns. Those concerns deepened when his belt was unbuckled, and his pants unzipped. This was not going the way she wanted right now.

"You know." She began, her heart racing. "I'm a little different than most women."

"I know." He replied, leaning down to kiss her as he kicked off his jeans. "You're a futa."

"I have different equipme-...wait, what?"

"You're a futanari, right?" he repeated. "You have a dick."

"Um...yes." Phoebe stammered. "How did you know that?"

"Well, the walls aren't exactly concrete around here." He laughed, tapping on the dry wall facing his apartment. "My bedroom is right on the other side of this. I've heard dozens of girls have the same reaction when you strip down."

"And...you don't care?"

"Nope. Not really."

A combination of relief and lust burned through Phoebe at that. This might be easier than she thought, getting him to bend over. If he already knew, and he still wants to sleep with her, he must want it, right? That was all good in theory until James's boxers joined his pants, revealing his erection. Phoebe's jaw dropped. It was HUGE. She wasn't a stranger to seeing big dicks. Work alongside men long enough, and that sort of thing tends to happen. She had seen her fair share of swingers in the wrestling locker rooms on occasion. But this one was something else. It had to be nine, maybe ten inches. And it was thick.

Feeling hands on her head, Phoebe's nerves shot up another notch. James was now gently guiding her towards his cock. Her eyes crossing as she followed the tip down to her mouth, she hesitated, resisting the urge of James's hands briefly. He just stepped forward a little, prodding the tip against her plush lips. Phoebe was completely caught off guard. This was NOT going according to her plan. Her carefully thought-out fantasy had HIM on his knees, not her. Like a deer in headlights, her confident charade crumbling, Phoebe eventually parted her lips and allowed him to push into her mouth.

Already, she felt stuffed. Fuck, he was huge! No wonder all those dumb broads he brought home screamed like they were being stabbed when he fucked them. Just the head alone was already straining her jaw and filling her whole mouth! She knew her way around a dick well enough. She had given a few blowies to get certain things throughout her career, and she usually gave the twinks she had fucked a pity suck. But this was different. She always had control in the past. When her lips wrapped around some man's pole, she gained absolute dominion and had them twisted around her finger. Now, she was the one being controlled. Not only that, but this was far and away the largest cock she had ever done anything with.

As if to further emphasize that point, James gave her a little encouragement by pushing a bit deeper into her mouth. Pushing her worries to the side to try to regain her momentum, Phoebe started to put some effort into it. She could still make this work. All she had to do now was suck his soul out until he was a trembling mess for her. Then, she could re-take charge. To that end, she dug in with vigor. Her tongue, whose movement was limited from being flattened down, swirled and did whatever it could to add to the pleasure. Every time she pulled her head back, she flicked her tongue over his tip and sensitive frenulum, drawing satisfying moans from James.

Raising her right hand, she latched around the base of his shaft and started to stroke him, as well. She already knew this hog was going to be a chore and a half to take care of orally, so she would need some hands-on support. At the same time, though, she pushed deeper. Only three inches in, and she was already choking. The fat head prodded against her uvula, making her backpedal and gag. She was out of her element, here. This wasn't a skinny, little five incher she could vacuum down with ease. She was going to need to work double time on this. That meant bringing in her second hand to pick up the slack. As she bobbed and sucked on the first couple inches, her hands worked in tandem on the remainder.

The good thing about having a cock, herself, was that she knew exactly what she liked. It stood to reason that the same things would work on James, too. Her grips rotating and stroking in alternating directions, she applied hard suction to his tip. Every ten or fifteen seconds, she would push to the back of her mouth and voluntarily choke herself on him, letting loose a deluge of saliva to ease the travel of her palms down his length. To her delight, her plan seemed to be working. James was groaning and sighing with pleasure somewhere above her. She could feel his cock throbbing between her grasp, and his hands had taken an idle approach, simply caressing her messy, pink hair now. Her right hand starting to tire a bit, she dropped it away to let her left hand carry on with full length movements instead.

That proved to be a bit of an error. Phoebe had mistaken James' lull in initiative as some sign of submission, which was not the case. As soon as one of her hands wasn't there to prevent her lips from sliding deeper, James' grip on her head firmed up and he gave a thrust into her mouth. Phoebe let out a surprised 'GURK' as the tip came crashing against her uvula. Even as she was in the process of gagging, though, James was already pulling her back and pumping into her mouth. With every dive past her lips, she could feel her throat's resistance crumbling now. Each thrust squeezed another little bit into her throat. It wasn't much, maybe a couple additional millimeters each time, but with James now thrusting at a more rapid clip, the ground was adding up quick.

Finding herself on the wrong end of a facefuck, she dropped her left hand altogether, and brought both hands up to rest on James' muscular thighs in the hopes of regaining some of her control. James still wasn't being overly brutal at all, but he was insistently fucking deeper and deeper into her mouth. Every descent past her lips now buried at least an inch down her throat, and that distance was steadily increasing. Before long, she was swallowing half his monster shaft with every stroke. She couldn't stop choking. She couldn't stop gagging. She could hardly breathe in a consistent manner. And yet, she was also stiff as a board. Her body was rebelling against her mind, and even mentally, a good chunk of her still wasn't onboard with her plan for domination. Every constriction of her throat muscles around James's thick cock only made hers throb harder within their denim prison.