Futanari Rikochan Returns!

Futanari Rikochan Returns

Rikochan is a futa in a corset

A fan of my big clit kindly pointed out that I haven’t just posted a new nude shot of myself in ages. She was right. Yes, the long blog posts are fun, but, really it’s all about the clitty for a lot of my fans, I realize. And I sympathize—sometimes you want to read a story or an essay or a fantasy that makes your brain wet, but sometimes it’s just about seeing boobs and asses and pussies and clits (Not that my last post didn’t have a pretty amazing picture, however, but it’s true that it wasn’t me.) Sometimes you just want to look at the picture and make up your own story, right? I can’t tell you how much fun I’ve had imagining stories about myself in this latex costume, from DeviantDisplay or imagining what I might do with this well-endowed PonyGurl.

So, I’m happy to post pictures. But, still I can’t help wondering what fantasies you might have when you look at them. When I posted this one, I wondered if, maybe one of them might go something like this.

Rikochan reclined before me, her tight-laced corset making her posture unnaturally erect. Her nipples were fat, swollen, engorged, restrained, by slipknot pendants pulled cruelly tight. The pendants pinched her nipples so hard at the base that they swelled out like little round purple bundles of nerves and swollen ducts, which wept slightly—tears of pain, I imagined. I was sure that a pendant pulled that that tight would make me weep real tears of real pain, but to Riko this was merely an appetizer. Her nips, she’d told me, as she’d guided my hands as I put on pendants—harder!—would be pumped so hard later that night that they’d began to leak for real, the ducts overstimulated into expressing droplets of a milky, watery fluid, even though she wasn’t lactating. I knew I’d be pulling on those pendants as hard as I could, and soon.

But, for now, I was happy just to look—and to touch myself, the first two fingers of my right hand flicking back and over my surprisingly slippery, surprisingly hard little clit. I’d never masturbated in front of a woman before. In fact, I’d always considered myself straight, a polite and innocent student (relatively speaking) who’d never do something like this. I’d been unsure about this, at the bar, but clearly my body had no doubts.

Rikochan wore a latex mask that showed only her eyes and mouth, with holes for her nostrils. Her eyes were half closed, and her mouth half open as she panted slightly. Her face, I was sure, was flushed with excitement—I could tell because the blush had spread down her neck and over the tops of her small, almost androgynous breasts. I began to work my labia, alternating between rubbing the length of my first two fingers against the mouth of my vagina and then spanking my whole pussy with my open hand, doing each progressively harder and faster each time I switched. The sound of my masturbation was rude, wet, sexy.

Her legs were bent and spread wide, and I sat between them, leaning back on my elbows as I gazed at her, warm with wine and lust. My slender feet held her ankles apart like a human spreader bar. I knew her strong legs could easily scissor closed, trapping me between them, but I also knew that they wouldn’t. She was trapped by her own desire far more effectively than a mere bar of wood or metal could restrain her. The evidence: her strong arms, resting at her sides calmly, palms up on her muscular thighs as if in an attitude of meditation—or surrender.

The only part of Rikochan that was unrestrained was her pussy. Her huge, swollen clitoris drew my eye like a magnet. I had the impression that only the tautness of her clitoral hood—pulled tight by the weight of her meaty, engorged labia—prevented her fat clitty from standing up straight like an erect little cock. Though prevented from standing rampant, her clit was swollen to such a length that almost her entire clitoral glans was uncovered. This I realized, staring at what looked liked a miniature penis head, was what a real futanari looked like. Increasingly excited, I slipped the first two fingers of my right hand into my pussy, which was so wet that there was almost no friction. I bent the fingers sharply and jammed the fingers in right up the last knuckle, so that I was touching my g-spot.

Her whole pussy was exposed to me as I slouched back on one elbow, staring, and it was a hypnotic—If I stared into it for much longer, I’d never be able to look away. I could see the faint vibration of her pulse shaking her clit in time with her throbbing heart, and when I leaned forward and reached out to caress one firm little breast, her whole pussy contracted, as if with an involuntary kegel. I could see her pussy’s slick, shiny lube begin to overflow.

I knew she was close to squirting, so I released her breast. I didn’t want her to squirt—not yet—and I was afraid that even touching her nipple would set her off. I had other plans for her female ejaculation.  First I wanted to see if her little futanari cock could do what I hoped it would—penetrate me, fuck my own tingling pussy. That’s when I wanted her to squirt, as we ground together her clit deep inside me; she’d soak my little clit, my lips, and my pussy. I’d move just so, so that she could squirt into me, over and over again, and that’s when I’d come.

Maybe I’d squirt, too—there was a first time for everything, after all, and tonight was a night for firsts. My first time kissing a girl had gone marvelously well, as had my first time getting one drunk on earthy red wine (of which I had drunk plenty myself). Nuzzling at her hard, tender nipples had been heavenly, as had been her kisses and light bites on mine. Perhaps I’d forget myself so far as to let lose a flood of juices when hers soaked me. I imagined myself coming so hard it was indistinguishable from a seizure, so loudly that my dorm-mates could hear, and I bit my lips, hard, against the sound I hadn’t even begun to make yet.

I’ll never be more aroused than this again in my life, I thought, as the pads of my index finger and middle finger massaged my g-spot faster and faster—it began to feel spongy and full, as Riko had described her as feeling when she was good and ready to squirt, and I knew it was now or never. I threw one leg over hers and dragged her toward me, my little clit ready to be crushed against her huge one as we scissored each other to orgasm…

***

You know, something like that. Making up your own story—that’s the fun of pictures. The little scene above is one that I imagined last night, from the point of view of a very studious English friend of mine who confessed to my great delight that she’d come many times while looking at my pictures. I was glad to hear that she gets takes a break from her studies now and then (it sounds like she’s working far too hard), and I wondered what she thought when she looked at my pictures, what fantasy was going through her head when she jacked off to my pictures and stories. And so this story came to me, and, from me, to her—and to you.

Got a fantasy about this picture, or some other picture of me, or even just about an image of me that’s only in your head? Tell me about it in the comments section–If I get enough, I’ll post some excerpts on my blog next week!

~Riko

5 Comments

  1. English Student

    April 1, 2011 at 2:42 pm

    Oh my God I’m wet. Proper reply later.

  2. English Student

    April 1, 2011 at 4:34 pm

    I e-mailed you!

    • I know! I’m writing back and squirming in my chair–in a good way (except that I’m at work, oops). Sooo sexy, thanks. I will read your email tonight in bed. 🙂

  3. EnglishStudent

    April 1, 2011 at 6:03 pm

    Oh poor baby, clit throbbing and aching, feel your lips slip over each other with wetness every time you move your legs, but you just can’t touch? I’ve been there!

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