We all know the story of The Futa Infection. Now, for the first time, learn how it started in this anthology. How one Futa-woman became two. Became three. Until women everywhere were transforming into sex-hungry futanari, eager to share their hard, throbbing passion with women and men alike! Contains "Futa Farm Girl," "OMG Now I'M a Futa!" And "The Futa-Doctor is In!"
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
I love her so much.
It was evening, and the sun was down. After their dinner, they sat out on the back yard, under the swingset Jackie’s grandfather had put up for her when she was a little girl. A few years ago, she had repurposed it to hold a long wooden porch swing, and now she leaned back, her head resting against Danielle’s chest, the worn cushions soft under her legs.
“I’ve always wanted to ask,” her lover asked, drawing a finger down her arm. “Why isn’t the porch swing, you know, on the porch?”
“I like to look at the stars.” In the west, the crescent moon was sinking into the very last hint of sunset, the sky a dark blue. Above, it was inky black, and thousands of stars shone down on them. “And I couldn’t get a good view from the porch. Back here, there’s no lights from the city or the highway. I could just lean back and watch. In a couple of weeks, there’s going to be a meteor shower. The Perseids. You should come out and watch with me. It’s incredible. Every minute or so you get this white streak across the sky. Sometimes they break up, almost like fireworks. And once or twice I’ve actually heard them. They make a hissing sound.”
Danielle made an agreeable noise, and tightened her arms around her. Jackie sighed happily.
For years, she had gone without touch, without human comfort of any kind. After her grandparents died, it had only been her and her mother in the big farmhouse. Sandra Sinclair had never forgiven God or her daughter for the cruel trick fate had played on her, and while she made sure her only child was properly fed and clothed, that was where her sense of duty ended. She certainly didn’t give Jaqueline Sinclair any affection, either with her voice or her body. There were no good-bye hugs when she got on the school bus in the morning, no kisses goodnight when she went to bed. Only cold, tight-lipped silence.
Which made her nights with Danielle even more treasured. The woman bathed her in affection, and she wallowed in it like a cat in the sun. Her arms around her held her snug, and she shifted closer, their legs twining lazily. Even her breath, soft and slow and steady in her ear, was a source of comfort for a woman who had ceased to believe that anyone would love her for who she was.
But Danielle, it seemed, had something more than simple snuggling on her mind. Her hands began to roam up and down her body, cupping her breasts, and then moving down to her sides. The tiny hairs on her arms stood up as she shivered, beginning to feel the first stirrings of desire deep within her body. In her jeans, her shaft twitched.
Her eyes pooled with tears, but she blinked them away. She wasn’t sad. She was happy. Overjoyed. What were the odds? That this beautiful, elegant woman, self-confident and sexy as hell, would fall for her. It would be unlikely enough if her body was normal. Not many women, after all, were lesbians, drawn to their own gender. Or even bisexual, for that matter. But when you combined it with the fact that she was a genetic freak, cursed to have both male and female genitalia, that possibility moved from unlikely to are you freaking kidding me?
But Danielle loved her. Loved her, and wanted her with a fierce desire so intense it almost frightened her, sometimes. During her more introspective moments, Jackie thought her lover’s passion for her was less of a desire than a need.
And, anyway, the sex made her feel really, really good.