The Inheritance

For the record, I never asked to be born in the Fitzgerald family.

Back in the 19th Century, my great-great grandfather was a cattle rancher who had started a modest meat business that turned into an empire that made my family filthy rich. On the outside, my family was made up of successful, wealthy socialites, politicians, and doctors that gave generous donations. All of that was a façade to hide the debauchery, drug abuse, domestic violence, and corruption that had plagued my family for generations. I wanted no part in that, so I left as soon as I had turned 18, vowing to never return. That was, until my father's people called me to let me know that he was dying.

William Fitzgerald the Fourth, my old man, the person who had made my childhood a living hell, wanted to make peace with me before he met his maker.

My mother had been the second of his four wives, and, from what I've been told, she was the only one that made him truly happy. After she died of cancer when I was ten, I watched my dad turn into a monster. When he wasn't hitting the bottle, or banging his mistresses, he was taking his rancor out on me. His actions were enough for me to walk away from a life of luxury.

So here I was, 25 years old, driving up to my family's palatial compound. After I gave the car keys to the valet, I heaved a sigh as I walked into the mansion. One of the servants escorted me to the master bedroom. As I walked down the halls, bad memories from my younger years made me recall all the ominous walks I made down this hallway, which usually ended with me getting yelled at and spanked with a belt. I took a deep breath to steel myself as the door was opened for me.

"That you, boy?"

"Yes, sir," I said in a monotone voice.

Gone was the tall, virile, handsome man that had dominated my life. He had been replaced by a feeble, white-haired skeleton lying in a bed with a nasal cannula on his face. My fears turned to pity at the sight of my dying father.

"Come over here," he said gently. "Sit in that chair. Don't worry; this old man's lost his bite."

I obliged him and sat down, looking at him silently, not knowing what to say except, "How long?"

"About a week. Seventy-seven is a pretty good age to die. It's about the same age my daddy went. I'd have probably lived longer if I had showed some restraint against my...darker impulses."

I shifted uneasily in my chair as memories of my dad's drunken rages flashed through my mind like a horror movie.

"Listen, boy," he said. After a short coughing fit, he regained his composure and said, "I'm leaving you my part of the company."

My eyes went Looney Tunes huge. "WHAT?"

My father seemed to think that my reaction was hilarious. "I knew you'd be like that. Thanks for making an old man feel better as he circles the drain."

"Why the hell are you leaving me your part of the company?!? You...you hate me!"

"I don't hate you...I just...didn't like that you defied me. Since the day you were born, I tried everything to make you a real Fitzgerald: top schools, boxing lessons, hunting. You fought me every step of the way."

"Yeah, I doubt Mom would have done things differently."

My father paused at the mention of my deceased mother. For a second, I thought I could see tears in his eyes, which was like seeing a unicorn. I actually felt bad for taking a verbal jab at a man on his death bed.

"Well, that's probably true. After you left, I disowned you, took away your trust fund, and tried to put you out of my mind. And what do you do? You put yourself through college, started your own business, and never once asked the family for help!"

"So?"

"Your siblings NEVER had that kind of drive. They always used their family name to get out of trouble: speeding tickets, pregnant girlfriends, you name it. They've been sucking at my teat well into their adulthood, but, you went out and made something of yourself."

I couldn't help but smile; this might have been the first time my dad had given me praise.

"They won't be happy when this news drops," I told him.

"Fuck em," my old man grumbled. "So, what do you say? You want my shares?"

"Sure," I said. "I'll just use the money to grow my own business."

"That's a good boy," the old man said with a grin. "However, if you want my money, you'll have to fulfill one tiny requirement. Otherwise, the only thing you're getting in my will are boxes of the shit you left in my house from when you were a kid."

My eyes narrowed at the mention of this newly-revealed condition to my massive inheritance. "What do I need to do?"

My father reached into his bedside table and handed me a small piece of paper. "Go to this address. Once you're done, come straight back here."

A few minutes later, I was back in my car, on my way to whatever place my dad had sent me. Several strange scenarios went through my head as I drew nearer to my destination. I was somewhat convinced that the address was a place where my dad had stationed a hit squad to riddle me with bullets and dispose of my body, to rid himself of his wayward son.

Google Maps at last brought me to a cozy little house in a suburban neighborhood. After parking in the driveway, I got out and walked to the door. After ringing the bell, I was greeted by a beautiful woman.

The woman was my height, but extremely curvaceous. Even though she was dressed modestly in a purple long-sleeved shirt and a long denim dress, I had to fight not to stare at her prodigious bosom and magnificent backside. She had olive skin that made me wonder if she was Native American or maybe Spanish. Her immaculate face was framed by a long mane of straight ebony hair that fell gracefully around her shoulders. Her exotic beauty had me at a loss for words; fortunately, she was the one who spoke first.

"You must be Trevor," she said.

"Yeah," I said.

"Yes, your father told me you were coming. Please, come in."

I followed her into the house without a second thought. She took me into the kitchen and served me some cranberry juice. We then sat at the table, with me still unable to say anything, as I was still enthralled with her beauty.

"I'm sorry about your father," she said.

"Thank you," I told her. "How do you know him?"

"We're friends."

It was then that I knew that she'd slept with him. My dad simply couldn't be a platonic friend to a woman this beautiful. I'd seen him romance hundreds - maybe thousands - of married women, supermodels, and actresses, but this woman was above them all, in my book.

"So," I began. "My dad said that I needed to come here for...I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name."

"My name is Marianne. Your father told me that he's giving you his shares in the family company."

"He told you that?"

"Yes." Marianne's breathing became more labored, making her chest heave - it was becoming harder to keep from staring at it. "Before you can obtain your inheritance, you have do something first."

"What is it?"

She rose from her seat and took me by the hand. After rising out of my chair, I allowed her to lead me out of the kitchen and towards the rear of the house. Once we entered the master bedroom, my heart began to race. She then let go of my hand and walked to the opposite side of the bedroom. Marianne looked at me with a pained expression as she kicked off her slippers began to unbutton her top.

I had to admit that I felt a little bit guilty for allowing this woman, whom I had just met, to start undressing in front of me, but I really wanted to see what was under that shirt. After shrugging off her shirt, I found myself staring at the largest pair of breasts I had ever seen - in real life, that is. Even though they were bound in a black bra, each of them looked to be the size of a watermelon - maybe even a small child. I could have shed tears of joy as I watched her reach behind her back and unhook her bra. When it fell to the floor, I saw her bare tits, each of them adorned with large light brown areolae that looked almost the size of a CD.

She then moved on to her dress, quickly undoing the clasp on it and letting it drop. My jaw practically hit the floor when I came face-to-face with her bare crotch. Instead of a wet pussy, I was greeted by a large, erect penis.

"What the fuck?!?" I said out loud.

I had always heard of the existence of futanari. I had a couple of futanari that lived in my neighborhood, and one that frequented my gym. I knew for a fact that they were women with the sexual organs of a male, but I had never seen one this up close and naked.

Marianne put her hands behind her head and arched her back to display her prodigious bosom.

"Please," she said with an expression of the utmost longing. "Take me to bed."

Despite my shock, I had not lost my boner. Why was I still horny? Here I was in a bedroom with a chick packing a dick. Any sane man would have bolted, not wanting to be in the same room as this oddity. I was still here, and, for a reason I couldn't quite explain, it wasn't because of the money.

Without a second thought, I quickly removed my clothes. I needed to be naked, just like her. Once I had removed the last article of clothing, I ran towards her and kissed her full on the mouth. I tried sliding my tongue into her mouth, only to have it forced back into my own. She raped my mouth with her monster of a tongue, exploring every crevice possible. I turned my head and broke our kiss, so she resorted to slobbering all over my face and neck, making me moan.

My hands desperately grabbed at her huge, bulbous mammaries. I pulled my face away from hers so that I could gaze at them as I pinched her nipples, only now noticing how big they were. Each nub was the size of a D battery, erect and oh so responsive. Every poke, prod and pinch that I gave made her squeal with pleasure. It wasn't long before they soon became moist with white droplets.

"Drink my milk, please," Marianne begged. "Oh, please suck my tits!"

I immediately dove face-first into her bosom and took one of the large nipples into my mouth. I didn't have to suck hard; the milk came out so easily. Her lactate was so warm and sweet, filling me with a blissful sensation that radiated throughout my body.

"Yes," Marianne moaned. "Ohhhh, you can't imagine how much good this feeeeels!"

We both got into the bed, where Marianne lie down upon her back as I continued to suckle her. The sound of her moans was making me more aroused, which made my cock painfully hard. Marianne reached forward and began stroking my dick. I could also feel her hard member slapping against my leg. Overcome with lust, I took my milk-stained mouth off her nipple to let out a moan.

I began sucking on her other breast, though I'm sure the one I had been working on had much more milk inside. When Marianne lifted the unattended nipple to mouth and began sucking on it, it seemed as though she was trying to prove me right. After a few more minutes of nursing on this buxom futa, I detached my mouth from her leaky breast.

"Enough milk," I growled at her. "Get on all fours!"

I had to admit that I was surprised at the sound of my voice. The tone that I had used to address Marianne was harsh and bestial. I was almost moved to apologize, but Marianne didn't seem to mind at all, and she was already on her hands and knees on the bed.

I eagerly crawled behind her and readied my cock. I was relieved to see a wet, glistening vagina right above her large balls; it had assuaged my fears that I was in bed with another man. Marianne's body shuddered with delight as I slid my manhood into her wet cunt and began to fuck her.

"Oh, yes...oh, that's just what I need!" Marianne moaned. "Please rape me. Rape me good."

"Yeah," I growled. "I'll rape you right into that fucking mattress, bitch."

I almost clapped a hand over my mouth in shock. Again, my words had become harsh. I decided to keep quiet and focus on having my way with Marianne. I gripped her waist and continued to thrust in and out of her. It felt good having that large, perfect ass bouncing against my abdomen.

In dim haze of the bedroom, a pungent odor permeated my nose and flooded my brain. Gone were the nagging questions of who Marianne was, and how she'd met my father; all I wanted to do was to rut inside of her. The love-stink she was making was killing every non-sexual thought process in my mind.

With my right hand, I reached underneath Marianne, grabbed her large dick, and began to violently jerk her off. She thrashed her head about wildly, squealing with pleasure as I stroked her thick, veiny rod. I kept fucking her while I did it, knowing full well it would drive her crazy.

"YES! STROKE MY COCK!" Marianne roared. She looked back at me with a frantic expression on her face, and her mouth drooling.

The wild look in her eye only served to arouse me further. I responded by using my index finger to tease the tip of her cock. She let out a loud bellow and began squirming frantically. I held onto her sweaty body for dear life. Moans and giggles came out of our mouths as we rolled around on the bed, with us eventually ending up spooning.

"Stop squirming, you filthy whore!" I snarled as a lifted her leg and roughly shoved my cock back inside of her pussy. I couldn't understand why I was so angry and horny. Still, I didn't have time to be appalled at my behavior. I was possibly having the best sex in my entire life.

"Ohhhhh! I'm gonna cum!" Marianne yelled.

I felt her pussy squeeze my cock as she climaxed. Seconds later, I watched in awe as her futa cock shot out streams of cum so strong that it sailed all the way from the bed to splatter against the wall. After a few more thrusts, I, too, came inside of her, my mind going blank in a white-hot explosion of erotic bliss.

We lay there in the bed, with our genitals still in congress. It seemed like my orgasm had broken whatever trance I was in. I pulled my dick out of Marianne and rolled out of the bed, my legs feeling like jelly as I walked to the bathroom.

I took a quick leak, and then went to the sink to splash some cold water on my face. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, still trying to process what had just happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marianne standing in the doorway of the bathroom. I turned my head to face her, and saw she had a concerned expression on her face. Her half-limp cock was still dripping with jizz.

"Are you all right?" Marianne asked.

"Yeah, it was just...I'm a bit worn out."

"I could get you a cold glass of water," she offered. "You should replenish your fluids."

"Actually," I said, my eyes wandering down to her bloated tits. "Can I have some more milk?"

"Of course you can," she said, taking my hand and putting it on her breast. "You can have as much as you want."

I followed her back to the bed, where she got on her back again. I got on top of her and started sucking on her large nipples. Minutes later, she and I were both hard again...

I didn't make it back to the mansion until the late evening. Marianne and I had sex three more times. I only stopped because my dick couldn't get hard again, though she was still hungry for more. I limped into my father's bedroom and sat at his bedside. He smiled at me, as though he knew exactly what had happened.

"She's something, isn't she?" he grinned.

"Amazing," I admitted.

"Yeah, being with her is like winning the lottery, boy."

"So...where did you find her?"

"Well," my dad began. "About 6 years ago, I was driving home from a board meeting, in a bad mood because we'd lost out on a huge deal that could have made us millions. I was so mad that I threw a bottle of Cuervo at the windshield. Well, the driver didn't like that much, so he stopped the car, got out, flipped me the bird, and walked off into the sunset."

That definitely sounded like my dad, but I didn't bother to interrupt him.

"Anyways, I got it into my head that I could drive myself home, but I ended up running out of gas right on Marianne's street. I went door-to-door to fifteen houses, and either got ignored or rejected. When I got to her house, and she opened the door, it was like...we had imprinted on each other."

"Ah, the old 'I'm out of gas' trick," I mused.

"Well, all I know is that after the first time I was with her, I felt like a new man. I did terrible things to her, and she begged me for more. Afterwards, I felt like all of the stress and negativity had been burned out of me."

"Yeah!" I agreed. "Like someone grabbed you like a washcloth and wrung out all of the dirty water out of you!"

Again, my dad and I were having another connection. It was strange that we were bonding over having sex with the same woman, but, in no way was it awkward. The conversation was probably the warmest one we'd had in years.

"Well, bottom line is that she's yours, boy," Dad said. "Marry her if you want to, but don't expect any kids from her; she can only get pregnant from others like her."

I didn't really know what else to say, except, "Thank you."

After some surprisingly pleasant bouts of conversation, I headed outside, where the valet had my car ready. Once I got behind the wheel, I found myself unsure of where I should go. On the one hand, I could go home and get a good night's sleep. The alternative was go back and see Marianne. I went ahead and created a contact in my phone with her address; I'd be visiting her on a regular basis for sure.