Transsexual Futanari FMF Fantasy




Jennifer Lynne



Darlene had with her the script Rowan and I had commissioned her to write for us, the idea being that once we were happy with it we would get down to the hard work of actually filming the thing. That was, ostensibly at least, the main reason for our meet-up that night – to give Darlene’s hard work at the word-processor a run through to see if we liked it.

Darlene Young was one of the best-known and widely respected transgender writer-director-producers of quality adult shemale movies in the business. Her award winning films were refreshingly a classy cut above the regular TS porn one sees day in, day out - Darlene’s work was designed to appeal to us ladies as well as our men, and every one of her titles to date made for perfect couples’ viewing – especially those of us who regularly fantasized about hot threesomes with sexy futagirls. And, for those of us who were fortunate enough to be able to afford Ms. Young’s exorbitant fees, she ran a discrete bespoke film service as a supplement to the main body of her work. Which is how come my husband, Rowan, and I had paid the t-girl handsomely to pen for us our very own mini Fifty Shades style movie in which we were to be the stars.

Of course the movie, once finished, would never be released to the public; once complete, all of the masters and copies would be destroyed and Darlene was bound by a watertight contract – all thanks to Rowan’s exceptional (but incredibly pricy) attorneys – that meant that should our film ever leak out, we would take everything she had worked twenty years to build up. Not that the thought bothered me too much, having my naked body out there on the internet for everyone to see – I am incredibly proud of what Mother Nature gave me and love to show it off whenever possible and appropriate. Even the idea of total strangers masturbating to my breasts, ass and pussy as they watched me getting down and dirty in front of the camera held little fear for me, and even them getting to see my sexy husband playing with a firm-busted shemale gave me no issues at all. However, for powerful, respected businesspeople, it was considered bad form to have your breasts and genitals out on display on the World Wide Web, no matter how gorgeous they were – the business community can be such a stuffy lot.

I fidgeted on the couch as I listened to Darlene and Rowan as they chatted, making with the small talk to ease the tension that had settled in the room the second the tall, dark-skinned t-girl had walked in and made herself right at home. Already I could feel that familiar, delicious tingle down between my legs as my mind wandered ahead and tried to imagine just what Rowan would look like with a huge, black futanari cock in his mouth.

Then Darlene retrieved the script from the waistband of the shiny leggings that made her toned legs shimmer like some exotic liquid. She smoothed it out and laid it on the glass-topped coffee table that sat between us. “Well, here it is,” she announced proudly, her voice a sexy purr “I do hope you folks are happy with it.”

“I’m sure we will be,” I replied with a knowing smile. I rested a hand on my husband’s thigh, enjoying the feel of the taut quad’ that rippled beneath the tight material of his jeans.

“I managed to fit in all of the elements that you both requested without the movie appearing too contrived,” Darlene said as her eyes wandered all the way down along the split at the front of my spectacularly inadequate dress. I knew full well that with the way I was sitting – back straight, leaning ever so slightly forward – I was treating the gal to a more than generous eyeful of my bountiful breasts. The very thought of the transsexual porn director ogling my bare tits was enough to prick up my nipples, and they poked hard against the inside of the flimsy dress.

“Even the transsexual scenes?” Rowan asked, as matter-of-fact as if he were negotiating another one of his land purchases.

Especially the transsexual scenes,” Darlene said, and I’m sure that she tipped my husband a sly wink. “And I threw in a little BDSM just for good measure.”

Darlene must have seen the look of alarm on both of our faces – we hadn’t been expecting any BDSM in our movie – and she moved quickly to reassure us.

“Don’t worry,” Darlene said with a light, friendly laugh, “it’s nothing too intense, just a soupcon of light bondage and a little spanking, is all.”

My ears pricked up at the word spanking. It had always been a favorite boudoir activity of mine and imagining it incorporated in our soon to be filmed fantasy got my pussy tingling all over again. “That sounds delightful,” I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding too salacious – didn’t want to scare poor Darlene off that early in the game.

“It will be,” she replied. “How are you guys with the basics of knot-tying?”

Rowan shook his head. “Never made it into the boy scouts, so I’m pretty damn clueless,” he said. I too was forced to admit cluelessness on that point, and offered Darlene a sweet smile.

“No problem at all,” Darlene said with a lascivious grin. She leaned back on the couch and produced two long, red silk scarves as if out of nowhere. “We can practice.” She stood up and navigated her way around the coffee table to stand over Rowan and I. “May I?” Darlene asked as she brandished the silk scarves in front of us.

“Sure thing.” I smiled up at the shemale, relishing the fact that she was now getting a totally unhindered view of my magnificent, braless tits from where she was standing. I held out my wrists, pressed together, for Darlene to bind.

“I was thinking I would demonstrate on Rowan,” Darlene said with a wicked grin, running her long, pink tongue across her full, scarlet painted lips. “If you don’t mind, that is?”

My heart skipped a beat as I watched my husband stand up and offer his hands to Darlene, wrists together as if instead of a maker of erotic movies, Darlene was a particularly hot cop and Rowan were under arrest and promising to come quietly.

I smiled to myself at that particular thought – if there’s one thing my hot husband doesn’t do, it’s cum quietly!

I rested my back against the soft cushion of the couch and watched, rapt as Darlene expertly tied Rowan’s wrists together, her long, slender fingers manipulating the delicate material of the red scarf with an expert’s ease. I could see the way Rowan was looking at the shemale – rather than concentrating on the bondage demonstration – and recognized the early tell-tale signs of lust in his eyes. I knew at that point that I wasn’t the only one whose sexy brain was running riot imagining the transsexual writer/director stripped naked, her firm, pert breasts topped with dark chocolate, jutting nipples and her she-cock long and hard and taking its pleasure from my husband’s denuded body.

“So you see,” Darlene interrupted my reverie, “the trick is in tying a double knot, and looping it between the wrists.” She pulled on Rowan’s hands for emphasis, her long fingers wrapping around my husband’s hands. I stared up at Rowan, taking in his tight-bound hands, his close proximity to the hot shemale director, the beginnings of the growing bulge in the snug crotch of his jeans – he was clearly getting as turned on by this scenario as I was. “And once he’s bound like this, your sexy husband is completely at our mercy.” Darlene gave me a sly wink.

“Completely?” I asked, my mischievous side shining through, the moistness between my thighs growing ever more noticeable, if only to me at that point.

“Yes Ma’am,” Darlene purred.

I leaned forward and plucked the script from the table. I had to grab a hold of the front of my dress as I did so, as my left boob made a sudden – if not entirely unexpected – bid for freedom. I managed to catch myself just before a rock-hard, cherry-red nipple popped out. I composed myself and leafed through the script that Rowan and I had paid so handsomely for the inimitable Darlene Young to write for us. “Ah yes, here it is,” I whispered, upon finding the scene I’d been hoping to find. “Perhaps we should rehearse the spanking scene,” I suggested with a naughty smile. “While we have my husband tied up?”

“That’s a great idea,” Darlene chirped. She smiled that broad, white-toothed smile of hers at my husband. “You okay with that?”

My husband nodded, his baby blues eyes wide with arousal. “Sounds good to me,” he said with a tremble of anticipation in his voice. “Let’s do this.”

And as I watched, Darlene deftly undid Rowan’s belt, followed swiftly by the button and zipper of his jeans. I swallowed hard as an electric prickle ran the full length of my slick pussy slit and I felt the oh-so sensitive head of my clit swell yet more in its arousal. Rowan looked down at me, almost as if he were seeking my approval for what we both knew was coming next. I returned his smile; of course I approved – this was our fantasy after all.

With no further ado, Darlene yanked down my husband’s jeans and underwear and as I looked on in amazement, Rowan’s semi-erect penis sprang out and pointed accusingly at the shemale writer/director.

“You look incredible,” Darlene said with an admiring glance down at my husband’s stiffening cock. “You are one lucky lady, Emma,” she said to me.

“Yes,” I said, the words heavy in my mouth, “yes I am.” And my mind jumped to the feel of my husband’s long, thick cock sliding between my sopping wet pussy lips to penetrate my entrance, stretch my to capacity and fill me up inside until I feared I would burst. And all I wanted right then and there was for Darlene to kneel down in front of my husband and take that dick I’d sucked countless times to completion into her hot, sexy mouth.

Instead, Darlene led my husband to the back of the couch by his tied wrists and had him bend over it – much like an errant schoolboy awaiting his headmaster’s cane. Darlene then stood directly behind Rowan, her eyes feasting on the pert, taut and decidedly bare buttocks that were presented to him. “Join me,” she instructed with a firm, feminine tone, and join her I did.

I have to confess that Rowan had never looked as damned hot to me as he did right then. Wrists bound, the pants around his ankles serving as further bondage, his naked ass cheeks high in the air, their smooth, pale skin sprinkled with an array of delicate goose bumps. And glancing down, I could see his smooth-shaved ball sac and just a hint of that magnificent cock of his that was prodding persistently into the back of the couch.

Darlene raised her arm and without warning, she brought her hand down on my husband’s bare backside with an almighty smack. Rowan jumped – yelped a little with the surprise – and I jumped along with him as the resounding slapping sound bounced around the lavish hotel suite. Darlene grinned at our reactions, and at the growing red imprint of her hand on Rowan’s naked butt. She then did it again; this time spanking my husband’s other cheek – as if to even him up. Rowan cried out again, but this time there was that familiar tone of lasciviousness to his cry.

Getting into her stride, Darlene smacked Rowan’s butt again.