WIP Futa's Subway Passion (Patreon)

Someone asked for more futa's having fun on subways, and that inspired me to write some more! Here's what I wrote today, rough draft of course.

My clit tingled, wanting to sprout and just revel in having a cock underneath all their noses.

The subway slowed to the next stop. The doors whisked open. Some people entered. Some exited. I just looked around, smirking at the...

My eyes froze when they fell on the schoolgirl. She stepped before me, grabbing the overhead bar, her silky-black hair falling down the back of her uniform. I recognized the uniform. Shōfu Academy, the same private university I attended. Eleven years ago, when I was eighteen, I wore that exact uniform.

The green skirts fell down to her mid-thigh, pleated and shifting as the subway pulled from the station. She wore a white blouse with a cream-colored sweater vest over it. The school's name would be monogrammed over her heart. 

I licked my lips as I stared at the eighteen-year-old flower, just blossoming into womanhood, ready to be plucked. Her slender neck appeared as her hair shifted. She turned her head, letting me see the profile of her face, smooth temples held clear of her hair by her red hairband, her nose delicate, lips sensual.

My clit sprouted into a futa-dick before I knew it. A sudden silky tightness cradled my throbbing cock. I groaned, the tip rubbing against the nylon. Trapped, wanting to escape. To bury into the sweet flower before me.

As the subway slowed to the next stop, I let the changing momentum shift me forward. My hand slid along the railing I clutched. I gasped as I pressed into the schoolgirl's back. My nipples felt her body through our clothing. My dick pressed into her skirt-covered rump.

“Excuse me,” I said, staying tight against her. I breathed in the smell of watermelon about her, so sweet and delicious.

She gave me a polite smile as the subway stopped. The doors opened.

“It's just so crowded tonight.”

The girl nodded.

My heart thudded in my chest. My dick throbbed in my nylons. I looked around at the other passengers, many of them salarymen, wearing their rumpled suits from their long days at the office. They stared at phones, read manga (some even pornographic), or had their eyes closed as they dozed, whether sitting or standing.

No one was staring at us.

My heart beat faster. I couldn't be contemplating this. You always heard stories of schoolgirls being molested by perverted men on the subway, unable to resist their cuteness and allure in their school uniforms.

And here I was, thinking about doing just that. Chikan, it was called. Subway molestation.

My left hand, not grabbing the railing, flexed as the subway pulled away. The shifting momentum pressed the schoolgirl back into me. My dick and nipples rejoiced at the tighter contact. The girl shifted her hips.

She looked over her shoulder at me, her forehead scrunched, a questioning look in her eye.

“Yes?” I asked, pressing forward, refusing to lose contact between my futa-cock and the soft curve of her ass.

“I...” She licked her lips. “Do you have to stand so close to me, ma'am?”

“It's just so crowded,” I said, my left hand grabbing her hip. “And who would you prefer behind you. A man or a woman.”

She opened her mouth, like she wanted to ask a question, but then her dusky-olive cheeks darkened with a blush. Her head shot forward. Her body trembled against me. She let out little whimper, squirming. Her body tensed as I pressed tighter against her, her silky hair brushing my face as I nuzzled into her neck.

I felt so bold. My futa-cock made me think I could do anything. And why not, those hula girls fucked four other women before the audience before they took me. They had no fear. They were so aggressive.

And I understood why. They had this throbbing futa-cock begging them to share its passion with pretty women.

Or cute schoolgirls.

As I humped against her inviting rear, I whispered into the schoolgirl's ear, “You didn't answer my question.”

She shifted, a shudder racing through her body. She had to feel my cock on her, especially as the subway slowed again to the stop. Inertia welded our bodies into one for a moment, my cock pushing her skirt and panties into the inviting valley between her two, curving butt-cheeks. A pair of soft hillocks I wanted to explore.

“Well?”

People moved around us, boarding, deboarding, oblivious. My hand moved on her skirt, sliding down to her bare thigh. I touched her naked flesh, creeping upward. She whimpered, barely audible over the sounds of the passengers coming on.

At the same moment that I quested up her thigh towards greater and greater heat, my right hand abandoned the overhead bar. I worked up my skirt between our bodies, needing to free my cock. I had to enjoy her. Pluck her.

“You're so quiet,” I whispered. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“W-what are you?” she asked. “A shemale.”

I moved my lips so close to her ear, almost touching it, and answered, “Futanari.”

She gasped in shocked, my hand reaching her panties, feeling the frilly legband. I slid my fingers beneath, touching the curve of her butt-cheek, so hot and silky. My other hand had my skirt hiked up enough in the front. I slid up in the back, too, but didn't slide over my ass. I brushed my cock trapped in my pantyhose.

Pulled them down.