Sticky Gift

Sticky Gift: A Futanari on Male & Female Story

Stephen’s building was shit. Mine was worse, but his was shit too. It hadn’t been a hard decision when we were trying to figure out which place we were going to keep, and which place we were going to get rid of. But Stephen’s place was closer to the city and it had a doorman, well, sort of. He was the building super when there was something broken, otherwise, he kept a little office at the desk by the front door during the day and into the evening.

“Come on, look at this place. I’m working on Janet’s team now. This project is going to be the one. Come on, don’t you want to live closer to the city?” He had been so excited, so persuasive when he had suggested it.

Really, I was really just playing with the idea. The moment he had suggested it, I had secretly agreed, but you know, you don’t want to seem too eager, right?

And I didn’t disagree with him. The Barrett Firm had already given him one raise when they had moved him onto Janet’s team, with the promise of more and I loved him and loved being close to him and his things.

How could I have said no?

Besides, I did love the old place. It was shit, an absolute rubbish bin, but it had character, all brick with windows that barely worked but they each had a million panes, and they were all the way around. And who cared that in the winter the floors were absolute ice?

And it had Henry, the super. Born somewhere near Darby in the sixties, he was an unhealthy, Englishman who always had an unlit cigar in his mouth. But he was friendly and personable and if you needed a hand, well, if a woman needed a hand, he was quick to volunteer. And I won’t even begin to go into the gossip Henry was privy too.

I walked in the front door that day and Henry was working on something that looked like it had a fan attached to it. The cigar between his lips rolled from one side of his mouth to the other as he turned a screwdriver. He barely glanced up, then slowly went over me as he turned back to his screwdriver. “Mornin’, love.” He said thinking I hadn’t noticed the way he ogled me.

“Henry,” I stopped and watched him work for a moment. “Nice to see you.”

“Yeah? You’re home early.” He bent his arm and glanced at his wristwatch. “Stephen said you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.”

“It’s his birthday, Henry,” I whispered like the walls could hear us and might sell us out.

“Oh!” Henry leaned back which only made his belly even more rotund. “You’ve got a plan.” He shook the end of screwdriver at me, his eyes glistening with glee.

“So, I’m planning to surprise him. He thinks I’m still out of town until tomorrow.” I clapped my hands gleefully and Henry laughed too. “I talked to him last night and he’s planning to get hammered tonight at the Georgie with Matt and Phil and some people from the office. He thinks we’re celebrating this weekend.”

“Oh, he’ll be so happy!” Henry stole a glance at my chest as I leaned over. I caught his eye and stood up a little, but I gave him a wry smile. I couldn’t blame him, I had worn the blouse and bra because they made my tits look amazing.

“Need anything from me, love?” The cigar rolled from one side to the other and he wiped his hands on a rag I was sure was far dirtier than his hands had been.

“Can you make sure not to mention I’m here?”

“No matter what, love. You’ve got my word.” He gave me a solemn salute and I smiled.

“Thanks Henry,” I tossed my hair over my shoulder in a sexy way, leaned over and pulled the handle of my suitcase up, slowly, so he got a good look at my girls.

He looked away when I looked at him. “See you later, Henry.” I laughed and walked toward the elevator.

“Anything for you, Katie.” He chuckled, and I could feel him staring at my ass.

I stepped into the elevator and started toward the ninth floor – the penthouse level, which did not mean what you think when you think of that word.

No, this was just a big apartment built on the roof of a high-rise apartment building. It wasn’t made of brick like the rest of the building, it was just a wooden frame with loads of windows.

The elevator clunked, groaning and clinking as it rose toward the top. I pulled out my phone. There was nothing from Stephen and I smiled. He had no idea I had flown back, as far as he knew I was a thousand miles away.

The doors slowly opened on the top floor, not quite even with the floor, but what can you do with a building that’s over a hundred years old? I stepped out and then across the little hall and through the door that led to the roof and our apartment.

I turned the key and opened the apartment door. The smell of our house filled my nose. I closed my eyes and savored it.

It was one of my favorite things about Stephen. We were so perfect together. When I had moved into the house and our things had mixed, the place had taken on a completely new smell. It was like leather and sandalwood. It was spicy and warm.

I loved it.

Stephen’s building might have been shit, but the apartment itself had a lot more going for it than my place in Queens had. The way the buildings were built around ours, the way the skyline worked, every afternoon, the place filled with light. It seemed to burst through every window around three or four o’clock, and we kept the blinds open to enjoy it.

Our views were amazing. We could walk right out onto the roof, that was our little plot. We had lawn chairs and a hammock outside where we could soak in the sun on weekends. It was one of the reasons, we had decided to keep his place. It might have been an apartment, but it was also a little like a home, just built on top of a bunch of other homes but still separate in a cool way. No one else was allowed on the roof.

I put my coat in the little closet and wheeled my bag down the hall toward the living room. Everything was just like I had left it a few days before. I smiled. I loved how neat Stephen was. The place was immaculate, a magazine centerfold. His couch and my end tables, the perfect lamp in the corner.

I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine from the open bottle in the fridge. I rolled my bag to the bedroom, listening to my heels click along the wood floor.

I thought of my plan for Stephen’s birthday. I was the surprise, but what I had in store for him was going to blow his mind.

The wine calmed my nerves after the airport and Uber ride and I threw my bag on the bed and opened it. It was four thirty. He was going to be home in a little while. That’s when the festivities were scheduled to begin.

I unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off my shoulders. It was time for something naughty, something scandalous. I unclipped my bra and then stepped out of my pants and underwear.

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on my side of the bed. Stephen was very much out of my league. He was exactly what every girl dreams of, tall, dark skinned, and handsome with a square jaw, blue eyes, and a body that simply didn’t make sense.

Why he opted for a tall, thin girl with crazy red hair and freckles across her nose, I’ll never know. But I did know exactly what kind of clothes, Stephen preferred. The ones that accentuated his favorite parts of me.

I slipped my favorite baby doll t-shirt over my head and pulled it down. I turned and looked in the mirror. The wide sleeves hit my shoulders perfect and I had just enough breast to spread the shirt open in a lusty, can’t-stop-staring sort of way – especially without a bra and my nipples practically poking through the cotton.

But that wasn’t enough. That was just the beginning. Inside the bag, I found my new pair of knit socks, black. I pulled the little ribbon off that tied them together and then slipped my left foot into the toe.

The fabric was soft, the knit felt good against my skin and unrolled it and pulled it over my calf, then my knee, where I tugged on it until it reached the middle of my thigh.

Then I unrolled the second one the same way, reaching under my shirt and evening the fabric tight around each thigh. I stood up and the shirt fell just over the hemline of the socks. I looked hot.

I bent over and pressed my breasts together.

Stephen was going to love it.

I decided to wait for him in bed. He’ll come home and find me soaking wet, ready and willing, and his weekend of hedonistic pleasure will begin.

I had been thinking about his cum all day. The entire airplane ride, I had sat in my chair and stared at my phone while it played some syndicated tv show, but really, all I was thinking about was Stephen’s dick.

My pussy melts every time I think about the way his cock feels, especially when he spurts inside of me – the throbbing, the pulsing muscles, stream after stream of hot, sticky cum. Because I know what he likes. I know how get him there. All because our bodies work so well together.

Lying naked on the bed, with a familiar dampness between my legs from daydreaming about Stephen’s cum, I dawdle mindlessly on my phone.

Then I hear it. The lock on the front door. He’s home. Excitement filled my chest. I sat up and then I laid back down and adjusted the t-shirt, so it showed almost too much, but not enough.

Then I heard a female voice.

H wasn’t alone.

I froze.

I heard Stephen’s voice and another voice I didn’t recognize. They were speaking in hushed tones. A female voice.

My heart was racing. What was happening? I was lying in our bed, naked, and he was with another woman.

I scrambled to the closet and shut the door while fumbling for the light on my phone. I hadn’t even considered he would bring a friend over. Why shouldn’t he? While the cat’s away, the mice will probably play, right?

I did my best to try and stay positive. He had girlfriends. I mean, I knew he was close to a girl in his office, probably one his best friends, Michelle. She was a dark-haired girl, pretty, who worked for Ellen Barrett, the Barrett in the Barrett firm.

They had been friends for a long time, but they had seemed to get closer once Stephen and I got serious. I liked her. She was kind and really funny. She also liked video games which was Stephen’s weakness.

That had to be it right? There was an awful lot of beer in the refrigerator. Poor guy was probably planning on playing video games and pregaming with Michelle before they went to Georgie’s.

Shit, this was not how this was supposed to go. I looked around the closet. I was going to have to do something else. It was no big deal. I would just get dressed and join them, surprise I came home for your birthday! It would only be a delay in my plans.

I was in the middle of pulling off my t-shirt when I noticed it.

Quiet.

The complete absence of noise. No banter. No laughing. No sound of video game guns and explosions coming through the surround sound. Maybe they had left when I had rushed to get in the closet, maybe they had just stopped to grab something before running over to Georgie’s.

Then I heard a strange ringing. It was faint, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

I slowly opened the door to the closet and stopped when it started to squeak. I peeked around the edge and looked around the bedroom – empty. Then I noticed movement in the floor mirror.

From just outside the closet, I could see Stephen’s co-worker standing in the main room. I slipped out the door, changing the view and angle I could see. It was Michelle, standing in the living room facing the back door.

Then I heard the sound again, the light clinking of metal ringing.

I moved around the door and saw Michelle’s pants around her ankles.

Then the sound made sense. Her belt buckle on the floor, tapping against the hardwood.

And Stephen on his knees sucking on her cock.

I froze.

I looked again. It had to be a strap on, a dildo of some sort. But it wasn’t.

Stephen was on his knees sucking that girl’s cock.

 

—————

 

Now, we had talked about his urge to give head before, but I had never dreamt he would really do it, let alone without me.

I was stunned, gob smacked. My fiancée was giving head to a girl with a dick right before my eyes. And his technique was impressive. He had a solid grip on the base of her shaft with his thumb and forefinger. And he had a good rhythm, bobbing his head slowly up and down her lovely prick.

Like I said, I liked Michelle. Ever since we had met we had been able to hang out. She was the perfect girlfriend for Stephen, they worked together so they had work in common, but she also liked to play video games and got along with all of his friends. She was around all the time.

Of course, I had never known that she had a dick before, but as I watched Stephen work her pole, his lips wrapped tight around her shaft trying to take more and more of her with every head bob, I didn’t know that it mattered.

It was something to watch them. Michelle’s dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was good looking. Tall with an athletic body, a flat stomach, and…my god, what a dick.

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t believe it.

I watched her methodically grind her hips as she gently fucked my fiancée’s face.

I couldn’t see Stephen’s cock, but I could tell from the way his left arm was moving that he was touching himself.

Just then, Stephen stood up, and they moved out of the view of the bedroom mirror.

Come back! I moved a little trying to see where they had gone. I’m not done watching my little cock slut suck off my new girl crush!

I heard them both climb onto the couch, and then silence.

Every so often, I heard the slurping of spit on a rock-hard dick, but I couldn’t tell whose parts belong to who. Was Stephen still sucking Michelle off? Or had they moved the other way ‘round? The girl doing my job for me?

I should be sucking that cock on that couch. A little streak of jealously went through me.

A low, guttural moan wafted into the bedroom, and I knew it was Stephen. It was that demure, almost feminine sound, he makes when he’s losing control.

Michelle must give good head, he rarely makes that sound for me.

Stephen’s moans continued, falling into a rhythm. What the fuck was going on out there? Whatever it was, it was beginning to drive me crazy. My pussy was soaked. I couldn’t stop thinking about Michelle’s cock and then Stephen’s cock.

My hand drifted down to my engorged clit. God, I was so horny. I needed something to fill me. One of those hard ons in the living room would do the trick.

Suddenly, the sound changed. Stephen’s moans became cries of pleasure. I could hear the spring in the couch, the one on the far end that squeaks like it’s about to break. And there is no doubt it’s getting a workout. The pace sounds like thrusting.

I step to the edge of the bedroom door and listen. What is going on out there? Stephen’s little cries of pleasure turn into whimpers and moans. I know what’s happening immediately. The last time Stephen made those sounds we had just watched a YouTube video about prostate milking and I had just tried it.

The pace. The rhythm. Oh my god, he is letting Michelle fuck him! The idea was too much. I slipped a finger into my cunt and bit my lip to remain silent.

***

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