Futanari Dreams

She kisses like a woman. She smells like a woman. She loves like a woman. But between her legs? She feels just like a man. She is a futanari, and her passion cannot be tamed.

In this collection of four erotic tales, three women and one man are seduced by lovers that straddle two worlds - not only male and female, but carnal and romantic. In "Deflowered by My Futa Doctor," Harper's gynocologist offers a sensual solution to her unique anatomy problem. In "My Nasty Futanari Neighbor," Abby hates the punk girl next door but can't deny her attraction. In "The Futanari's Gigolo," Eddie is hired to satisfy a frosty cougar with a connection to his past. In "Suddenly Futanari," a magic spell transforms Cassie's body...much to her roommate's delight!

This bundle includes four previously published books and is 57,000 words. It is for readers 18 and up.

~~~ Excerpt ~~~

From "Suddenly Futanari":

I grinned. Softer this time, I slid my finger around the rim of her bellybutton. That odd little orifice had teased me for so many weeks, and now I found that its lip was as soft as baby down. "You're so gentle," she whispered.

"Do you want me to be rougher?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, it's nice. You're so nice…" Her slender fingers cupped my jaw and drew me in for another, tentative kiss. "Why are you so nice to me?"

Because I love you, I wanted to say. The words gripped the base of my tongue like the cocked hammer of a gun. I wanted to confess. I wanted to grab her, kiss her harder, squeeze her soft thighs until she whimpered the same. But that would have crossed a line there would be no coming back from. I knew Rebecca wasn't gay. I knew this was comfort to her. She wanted my touch, maybe a soft kiss or two, but more would have confused her.

It hurt not to tell her. It triggered a physical ache deep in my chest that spread up my arms and tightened my veins. You're giving me a heart attack, I thought, as I gently slid her hair out of her eyes and kissed her nose. "I want you to feel better," I whispered. "We're just having fun, right?"

"Sure." A smile broke over her peach lips. "Oh God, I was just thinking of that girl you used to date. Tiffany? I think she was Japanese?"

"Teresa."

Rebecca's brows knit together. "She was so mean to me. I never understood why she was such a bitch."

I laughed. "She wasn't that mean…"

"Not to you!" Rebecca exclaimed. She turned bright red when she realized how loud her voice went. We'd been whispering together on the couch for so long that she actually put her hand to her mouth. We giggled together, as if somehow we were interrupting an invisible crowd of people in our secluded apartment. "Not to you," she repeated, more quietly. She idly drew her fingers through my hair. "You had her wrapped around your finger. But she always gave me these looks. She rolled her eyes whenever I said something. I felt like I was offending her in some secret lesbo code."

"I didn't have her wrapped around my finger…" I murmured.

"Oh shut up," said Rebecca. "She was so into you."

I shrugged. "Maybe she felt threatened by you."

"Why?"

It was my turn to play with her hair. "Because she knew I was protective of you. I had to leave a date once to pick you up from the club. Do you remember?"

"Ugh," the girl moaned. "Barely. That was a bad night." She gripped my hand—sliding mid-way through her purple tress—and squeezed. "Thank you."

I squeezed back. "She thought we were sleeping together."

Rebecca's eyes bugged out. "Seriously? Oh, that explains a lot." She scooted down on the couch and moved my hand from her hair to the space just below her breast. It was provocative. Deliberate. And she gave me a mischievous little grin when she did it, as if to say, "Your ex's worst fear has finally come true."

Of course I knew that wouldn't happen. Rebecca didn't want to sleep with me. I kept reminding myself that, hoping she'd prove me wrong.