Chapter 1: Futa's First Wild Ride

April 17th, 2047

Before the cheering studio audience, the host interviewing about my life for the last hour, was lost to her lusts. The sexy, caramel-skinned Amelia, pushed me down on the couch we were sitting upon. I didn’t fight her, my futa-dick throbbing so hard against my dress.

“Oh, Becky,” she groaned, her perfectly coiffed, brown hair spilling about the wild passion of her features. She had that delightful, mixed-raced heritage, a blend of nationalities impossible to guess, that gave her such an exotic cast. “Ooh, my pussy is so wet. I can’t take any more.”

“Mmm, I have been teasing you,” I purred as her hands pushed up my skirt, exposing my clit-dick. It thrust out my blonde bush and from the folds of my wet pussy. I was the oldest futa in the world, the first. All the others were my thousands upon thousands of daughters. I had so many over the last thirty years since I transformed at eighteen.

“That was so wicked of you,” Adelia moaned, her rich-brown fingers wrapping about my ivory shaft.

“It was,” my wife, Sharron, called from where she watched off-stage. “Ride her hard.”

“RIDE HER!” the studio audience cheered. “RIDE HER!”

Adelia didn’t need to be told twice. With her crew watching on, the delicious talk show host guided my futa-cock in between her dark thighs. I groaned at shaved feel of her hot pussy. She didn’t wear panties, the naughty slut.

She shifted with practice ease, lined up perfectly, and slammed her cunt down my huge cock. Her eyes widened as her pussy engulfed my shaft. Like all my futa-daughters, I was bigger than any human male.

“Oh, god, I missed this dick,” Adelia moaned, her eyes fluttering. “It’s perfect.”

“RIDE HER! RIDE HER!”

My hands squeezed her round breasts through her top, loving the feel of her hard nipples through the cloth. I groaned as she rose up my shaft, her pussy clenching the entire time. She slammed down me, grunting as she bottomed out on my cock. Then she rose again and again. She rode me hard, the couch groaning beneath us.

She wasted no time in driving herself to her orgasm. We only had two minutes until the commercial break ended.

“Oh, yes, Becky!” she moaned, leaning over me, her hair dancing around her darkening cheeks. “Your cock ... Oh, it’s the best.”

I grinned at her, squeezing her hips. “Just work that pussy up and down my cock. It gets better.”

“Yes!” she squealed.

Her pussy clenched about my girl-dick as she rose up me. Her hot sheath sucked at my girl-shaft. My ovaries boiled with another load of cum. Talking about my first game as a UW Cheerleader had made me so hard. Reliving my wild past before a live audience and streamed out over the internet was so intoxicating.

I loved the cheering. I loved people watching me fuck. The worship of the studio audience, all women or futas, washed over me. I drank it in, fanning my passion. My dick ached and throbbed in Adelia’s tight snatch. She worked her cunt faster and faster, fucking me so hard, driving her pussy up and down my cock.

“This is so hot!” she groaned. “Ooh, everyone’s watching me.”

“They’re so envious,” I panted. “The women all wish they were you.”

“RIDE HER! RIDE HER!”

“They do!” Adelia moaned, her pussy slamming down my shaft again. She clenched down hard as she rose up my cock, stimulating me with that silky delight.

She threw her arms over her head, reaching for the stage lights above. Her fingers curled and relaxed as she fucked me. Her breasts bounced and heaved beneath her dress. Her skirt rustled, stretch taut over her thighs, hiding the union of our flesh.

Pleasure crossed her face. Ecstasy that I gave her. I whimpered, my eyes squeezed shut as I enjoyed this moment. It reminded me so much of my first live interview nearly thirty-years ago. That same ache in the interviewers eyes. That same boiling need to ride my shaft.

My futa-dick ached, throbbed. The pressure built and built in my ovaries. Her pussy massaged me with that heavenly silk. I groaned, my hips thrusting up as she slammed down. Her flesh slapped into my flesh. Pleasure jolted through my cunt to my ovaries. They contracted. I gasped.

My futa-cum flooded her pussy.

“Becky!” she howled. “Oh, yes, yes, yes!”

Her pussy writhed about my dick. Her cunt milked my spurting cock. I thrashed on the couch, my face contorting as the rapture hammered my mind. I pumped more and more jizz into her, spilling into her delicious, convulsing snatch.

She bucked a final time on me as ecstasy burned through my mind. I panted, slumped on my back. She leaned over me, gasping for breath as her pussy spasmed a one last time on my dick. Her breasts rose and fell in her dress.

“Oh, damn, Becky, I needed that,” she groaned. “I can get through more of the interview now.”

I nodded.

“Good,” a producer said, “Because we’re back in ten seconds.”

Adelia gasped. Then she ripped her pussy off my cock. My dick flopped out and smacked wet into my bunched up skirt. A flick of cunt cream splattered my face. My tongue snaked out, gathering up that tart delight. I shivered, sitting up, shoving my dress down over my softening futa-dick.

“And we’re live in five ... four ... three...” the spiky-haired producer said.

I adjusted my blonde hair while Adelia settled into her pose, looking so calm and poised. If it weren’t for her flushed cheeks and glistening forehead, you’d never know she just rode my futa-dick to a screaming orgasm.

“Welcome back,” Adelia said, a touch breathless. “Today were celebrating President Becky Woodward’s birthday with a thirty year retrospective on how the world’s first futa has shifted everyone’s paradigm.”

I smiled at the camera, sucking in breaths through my nose. My body buzzed in delight. “I’m so glad to be here. What an amazing forty-eighth birthday this has been.”

“And you don’t even look it,” laughed Adelia, giving my knee a familiar pat that sent a tingle racing down it. “Now, we were just talking about your first time cheerleading at the Husky game against the University of Oregon’s Ducks. It caused such an uproar in the FCC since NBC showed everything live. The world’s reaction was ... intense.”

“That’s one word for it,” I said, struggling to remember just how overwhelming it was when it finally hit me just what I had done. “My social media exploded. It was so bad I had to turn off my Facebook, Twitter, and the other ones. They were just bombarded by messages and tweets.”

“Ah, Twitter, I haven’t thought about that one in years,” Adelia said, shaking her head.

“It was so big when I was in college,” I said, a smile on my lips. “That’s where you put your hashtags.”

Adelia giggled. “Ooh, yes, hashtags.” She smoothed her face back into the professional mask. “Okay, that’s not what were talking about today. That game launched you into the national spotlight in a way that you hadn’t before.”

“I mean, people were talking about me before,” I said. “I had interviews and some programs were produced. Many of those long-dead news outlets would run their vapid commentary about what I was, trying to fill every hour of the day with their blather.

“But the average American mostly ignored me until then. And then I had sex during the Husky game. College football was as big then as it is today. It caught the imagination.”

“And the paparazzi descended?”

I let out a sigh. “I didn’t realize it, but it was about to drown me in attention. I swear, I went hitchhiking just to escape them after college. I had no idea how they would try to invade everything I did, to catch pics of me fucking, to fill tabloids and entertainment shows.”

“Like this pic?” Adelia asked. She glanced at the monitor by the stage. Some producer put on a picture of me and an older woman, both of us clearly naked or topless, thrusting out the roof of a limousine. My hands grabbed her tits, her ass clearly pressed into my crotch. Our were faces contorted in rapture. “It looks like you’re both cumming here.”

“I think we were,” I said, smiling. “That pic went viral, as they called it back then. Shot around the world.”

“How did that happen?” Adelia asked.

I smiled and launched into the story.

September 15th, 2018

I still buzzed from my orgasms. I couldn’t believe I had so many during the game. And all those Duck Cheerleaders I bred. The Husky’s had crushed the University of Oregon Ducks because of my naughty antics. I inspired our team to victory.

And flustered the opposing team, especially their quarterback, by fucking all their cheerleaders. On national TV.

“It is insane out there,” Dona, one of my friends, said. She somehow got into the cheerleader’s locker room.

“Really?” I asked, changed back into a loose skirt and a tight baby doll t-shirt cupping my braless tits. My dick twitched in the boy short underwear I wore. “The fans.”

“The fans,” Dona said. “The media.” The brunette shook her head, her petite body squirming. Her short, brown hair swayed about her face. “I’m glad I didn’t bring Danielle.”

Dona was one of the first girls to give birth to one of my daughters. She also numbered among the first I fucked. Justine, Mrs. Albertson, Melany, Katharyn, Professor Rider, my two nurses, and then Dona and Kaelea. I couldn’t remember which of the two I fucked first now. It was a year ago. I think it was Dona, but...

“How am I getting out of here?” I asked.

“Kurt has a plan,” Dona said.

I arched an eyebrow. Kurt was both our ex-boyfriend. I dated him through high school and into our freshman year of college. When I finally made love with him, giving him my virginity, I changed. His cum triggered me into becoming the world’s first futa.

None of the doctors understood why. Over the last year, I heard a dozen different theories. Any one could be the reason, or it could be none of them.

After Kurt and I broke up, what with me suddenly being into girls and they all waiting to be bred by my futa-cock, Kurt hooked up with Dona. It was a rebound thing and didn’t last long. But things were usually tense between them. They could start sniping each other, and it couldn’t stand it.

“You’re talking to Kurt again?”

Dona shrugged. “His new girlfriend’s okay, I guess. All she could do was talk about you fucking her before the game.”

I smiled at that. Kurt helped me calm down before I faced the cheering crowds.

“Well, he has a plan to get you out of here,” Dona continued, “but it requires the help of your fellow cheerleaders.”

“What do you need?” Ashlie, the blonde cheer captain, said. She had a glow about her, partially from having sex during the game, and partially from the start of her baby bump swelling her stomach. Like every girl I had sex with, I bred her.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Dona asked.

“Yep,” Ashlie said, her blue eyes twinkling. She smacked my rump. “Got to protect my team’s number-one asset. What do you need?”

“A distraction,” Dona said and explained the plan.

It was really simple. It just required the cheer squad to rush out in their uniforms with Ashlie in the center. Since we were both blondes, Kurt hoped that if the squad acted like they were shielding her and trying to get her clear, they would distract the paparazzi and other media trying to see me. It wouldn’t last long, but it would give me the time to slip out the side door and hurry to Kurt’s car with him, Dona, and his girlfriend.

My cheer squad was eager to do help me out.

Fifteen minutes later found me at said side-area with Dona. Kurt waited in his car with his girlfriend. I swallowed a deep breath, my heart thudding fast. This was all so exciting. It felt all cloak and daggery. I swallowed, eager to burst out there and escape. My phone chirped.

“That’s the signal,” I said, glancing at the text message.

“Okay!” Dona grinned and yanked open the door.

I could hear the squeals of excitement coming from the front of stadium. The other people in the parking lot were looking up towards the front. Cameras flashed, lighting up the September evening sky. I shuddered, my eyes widening. It was like the Beatles had arrived. I couldn’t believe this was all for me.

I glanced at Dona.

“Just go,” she said, “before anyone notices.”

I nodded, strolling out, trying to act casual. Though the crowds were focused out front, there were still plenty of people moving around the parking lot, getting to their cars. I hoped the cheerleaders would be fine. Women when they caught the breeding impulse could go wild for my futa-cock. I had a few fights break out in the last year, girls insisting that they got to fuck me next.

A limousine pulled up in front of us and stopped as we stepped out of a row of parked cars to cross to the next aisle. I gasped in shock, squeezing Dona’s hand. The door opened and a mature woman, her dark-brown hair pulled up into a tight bun, peered out at me. She had a designer blouse, a soft chartreuse, that gave her an elegant look when combined with her black skirt.

“Get in, Becky, we need to talk,” she said.

I blinked.

“President Pope!” gasped Dona beside me.

“The college’s president?” I asked.

“The same,” the woman said, her diction sounding refined and precise. “Now get in. We need to talk about this ... debacle.”

A nervousness rippled through me. Before I could talk to her, I had to give her a chance to avoid getting fucked. “You know we’ll just end up fucking if I climb in there.”

“That’s why my secretary is here,” President Pope said.

A younger woman, a few years older than me, peeked her head out the door, leaning in from a seat facing the university’s president. She had a youthful face, round and naughty, her short, blonde hair giving her a playful vibe. Her green eyes sparkled as she purred, “I’ve heard so much about you and your cock, Becky.”

President Pope grimaced, pinching her face, her lips pursed tight. She scooted back saying, “So, as you can see, you can use my secretary while we talk.”

“It won’t work,” I said, my girl-dick swelling to full hardness. “You’re going to want my dick, too.”

“I haven’t had sex in twenty years,” the woman said. “I never saw the need for it. I think my self-control will hold.”

Dona gave me a naughty wink and mouthed, “Fuck her hard.”

I winked back. Well, I tried to convince the older woman. I would enjoy breeding the president of the University of Washington. She had such delicious legs peeking out of her skirt. But until then, I would enjoy her secretary, too.

I slipped into the back of the limo. The naughty secretary, wearing a beige pencil skirt and blue blouse you’d find in an office, scooted over. She patted the seat beside her, licking her plump lips, her green eyes glowing with lust.

The moment I sat down, the secretary was on the floor of the limo before me, her hand shoving up my skirt. President Pope sat across from me, legs crossed, dark eyes intense as she studied me. She didn’t flinch as the secretary produced my girl-dick from my boy shorts and engulfed it in a single inhalation.

“Damn,” I groaned as the enthusiastic secretary bobbed her mouth up and down my girl-dick. “She’s eager for it.”

“Indeed,” President Pope said, something almost sounding like disappointment in her words. “Jamie has been bouncing with excitement since I asked her to do this.”

“It was so hot watching you suck your own dick on the field,” Jamie moaned, popping her mouth off my futa-cock long enough to say that sentence. Then she slid her lips back over my shaft, her cheeks hollowing as she worshiped me.

Wet heat swirled around my dick, her tongue dancing. I groaned, my pussy clenching. The delight shot straight down to my cunt. I faced my college’s president. The blood raced through my veins. Pleasure swelled through me, the secretary’s sucking bringing me closer to erupting.

So I ripped off my baby doll t-shirt, baring my round breasts.

“Is that ... necessary, Becky?” President Pope asked as I grabbed my breasts.

“Mmm, so necessary,” I moaned, kneading my tits while Jamie sucked and slurped on my girl-dick. My thumbs brushed my pink nipples.

“We have a big problem,” President Pope said, not even looking at my nineteen-year-old titties as I fondled them.

“Oh?” I asked, my pussy clenching.

“I’ve turned a blind eye to your ... activities for the last year. I have never seen the harm in consensual sex and, well, none of your many, many lovers have a single bad word to say about you.”

“Nope,” I gasped then squealed as Jamie shoved a pair of fingers into my juicy pussy. “Ooh, she’s a wicked secretary. You totally should have her crawl beneath your desk. I bet she could make that cunt cum so hard with this mouth.”

President Pope pursed her lips, her eyes tightening. “But now your antics are going to cost the school money?”

“What?” I asked, heat rippling through my pussy and surging down my cock. My snatch clenched about those probing digits. “How?”

“The FCC will level fines for your ... inappropriate antics,” President Pope said. “NBC never cut their feed. They broadcast every second of your sideline antics to the world. Every cheerleader you fucked. Every pussy you ... bred.”

Her thighs tightened.

My pussy clenched on those delicious fingers while my futa-dick throbbed in Jamie’s wonderful mouth.

“I had fun breeding those cunts,” I said. “I can’t control if NBC broadcast it to the world.”

Jamie’s mouth ripped off my cock. “I need to be bred, too!”

The B word often set women off. I groaned as she moved up my body, her pencil skirt sliding up her thighs as she straddled me, her fingers ripping out of my snatch. I should stop her, but my cock ached to be in her pussy. I needed to focus, but...

Jamie wasn’t wearing panties beneath her skirt. I groaned as I felt the kiss of her shaved pussy. Then her cunt slammed down my shaft. Rapture surged through me. I was buried to the hilt in hot, fertile snatch.

“I thought I told you just to suck her cock until I was done talking to her, Jamie,” President Pope said.

“Sorry!” the girl moaned. “I just need to be bred so badly.”

“Uh-huh,” I groaned. “Don’t you want to be bred, President Pope?”

“No!” she hissed, her face contorting.

I watched her over Jamie’s shoulder, enjoying the secretary’s pussy sliding up and down my dick, bathing my cock in her silky cream. I grabbed her rump, squeezing her through her skirt as she gasped and moaned, filling the limousine with her passion.

“So what’s the problem for the school?” I panted, struggling to focus on the real problem.

But it was so hard. Jamie’s pussy felt so good on my dick. She squeezed her cunt around my shaft as she rose up, the pressure sucking at my ovaries. My girl-cock always responded to a woman in need of my futa-seed.

And Jamie needed it. I could feel her heat. Her pussy ovulated, her ovaries releasing an egg needing to be fertilized by my girl-cum. I shuddered and groaned, kneading her ass and staring at the president. The older woman recrossed her legs, her arms folded before her. Color spotted her cheeks. Her jaw clenched, her eyes smoldering.

“We’ll talk when you’re ... less distracted.”

I smiled at her and moaned. “Ooh, yes, yes, yes. Your secretary is so naughty for riding my dick in the middle of our conversation. I’m going to breed her snatch.”

President Pope recrossed her legs again, shifting.

“I’m going to pump so much of my spunk into her pussy,” I purred. “I’m going to breed her. She’s going to be dripping with all my jizz. She’s going to have my baby. Isn’t that so hot?”

“Yes, yes, yes, isn’t that so hot, President Pope!” Jamie moaned, her snatch squeezing down on me. “I want her baby so badly. Ooh, her cock is so huge. I’ve never had a dick so big.”