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Story Codes: Hermaphrodite/Male/Female, Female/Female, Male Masturbation, Hermaphrodite/Females, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Breeding, Hot Wife

For a list of all the The World’s First Futa stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.

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Click here for Chapter 2.

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April 17th, 2047

“So meeting with King Njam bin Mohammad ibn Saud was not what I expected,” I said to Adelia, the cameras rolling.

My interview was almost over. We were in the final stretch. It was wonderful to tell, but I was feeling the mental strain now. Still, it was a wonderful way to spend my forty-eight birthday by looking back on my life. We were talking about my first year in office as president.

“In what way?” she asked.

“Well, I hadn’t expected such a warm welcome from the leader of one of the most conservative countries in the world,” I said. “He was jovial, friendly, and eager to cater to me.”

“Really?” Adelia said, leaning forward. I’d never publicly discussed my meeting with King Njam before, mainly to protect him. But ten years later, the world, especially the Middle East, had changed so much. “You mean, he offered you pussy, right?”

“Yep, pussy,” I said, grinning, remembering that feeling of shock when Ayishah had appeared.

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February 17th, 2037

King Njam bin Mohammad, head of the House of Saud, King of the Saudi Arabs, swept into the antechamber in flowing robes of white belted about his waist. He wore the red, checkered turban, called the keffiyeh, particular to the Saudi Arabs. A leather cord bound it about his temple. He was in great shape though age was graying his close-cropped beard.

“President Woodward,” he said, embracing me with more warmth than I expected. His beard tickled my cheeks as he planted a welcoming kiss on each one. “What a pleasure to see you.”

I let out a nervous laugh as I shifted in the dark-blue dress I wore, the blouse far more conservative than anything I would normally wear, the skirt falling down to just below my knees. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“Please, please, call me Njam,” he said, breaking away.

“Becky,” I said, giving him a smile. An anxious flutter ran through my guts. I had to win his support. He controlled the largest coalition of Arab countries. If I could get him, Jordan, and Egypt on my side, I would have a chance to make changes in the Middle East.

But how?

“So, I hope you’re not offended that I am not wearing a veil or hijab,” I said.

He waved his hands. “You have a cock, so that makes you more man than many I know.”

That shocked me.

“But come, come, let us talk and enjoy pleasures,” he said, sitting down on a divan covered in gold damask. “Coffee?”

“Yes,” I said, taking a seat across from a polished, marble table. Around the room, our bodyguards stood, all in suits though his wore the same keffiyeh that he did. Other than that, you couldn’t tell his from my secret service agents. “Thank you. I’m eager to build a relationship between our countries.”

“Oh, yes, I saw the relationship you built with England and France.” He smiled. “Did the President of France truly offer up his wife to you?”

“He watched,” I said. “Then he enjoyed her when I was done. They were quite… happy. I have that effect on couples. I help… lubricate things between them.” I arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps you and your wives could use that sort of…”

My words trailed off when I saw the girl who entered with our coffee on a golden tray. She was dressed like a harem girl straight out of a perverted fantasy, her slender, dusky body clad in black silk that was so thin her flesh bled through. I could see her small breasts and the tight cleft of her shaved pussy. Her legs were lithe as her pantaloons rustled. Her veil was equally transparent, her eyes dark and smoky over them.

“Oh, my,” I said, my dick going hard as the girl set the golden tray on the coffee table. Steam rose from a carafe while beside it rested two porcelain cups flanking a sugar bowl. “That’s… I didn’t…” I couldn’t think. The last thing I expected was this. “Who is she?”

“Ayishah,” he said. “I… engaged her services. For you. I know your… appetites.”

“She’s a hooker?” I blurted out before I remembered my diplomacy. I was just so… off-balanced by her youthful presence.

“No, no, prostitution is illegal in the Kingdom,” he said. “She’s my wife. A… pleasure marriage. What we call a nikah mut’ah.”

“She’s your wife and… you want me to… But I thought…?”

“No, no, she’s my temporary wife. When her services are complete, I will divorce her and some other man can marry her and enjoy her beauty.” He smiled at her. “Then we do not violate Allah’s prohibitions, you see?”

I nodded my head, staring at her. “And me?”

“Well, you are different,” he said. “You have that affect on women. You are clearly Allah’s gift to the world, something to invigorate it with new blood. A… change, if you will. Look at Ayishah, already her lusts are upon her. Look, look, her silks are growing wet.”

I stared at the girl. She couldn’t be much older than eighteen. Her nipples poked hard against her tight, silk blouse, and the black silk grew damp around her crotch. She licked her plump lips behind her veil, her eyes smoky as they stared at her.

“I have yet to enjoy her pleasure,” he said, his hands undoing his belt. “I thought we could share… Enjoy your style of diplomacy.”

I nodded my head as I drew up my skirt. The girl let out a whimper, her hips swaying from side to side. “President Futa,” she moaned. “You truly have big cock.”

“Yes,” I groaned. “I have a big cock.”

“Cock,” she repeated, saying the word slowly. “You are making me so… so…” Her words trailed off as she squirmed.

“Don’t be shy,” I said, exposing my gray, silk panties cupping my girl-dick. I so loved these new style of panties that clothing manufactures now made. “Say it. Tell us how wet you are.”

“Yes, my sweet Ayishah,” groaned the king. He stood up and pulled off his robes, exposing a compact and muscular body beneath. He kept himself fit. His cock tented a pair of western style boxers. It wasn’t ‘nearly as big as mine. “Don’t hold back your passions around her.”

“You make me very wet,” the girl moaned. “My… my…”

“Pussy?” I suggested.

She nodded her head. “My pussy is so very wet and…” She licked her lips. “You will fuck me? I never fuck cock so big before.”

“Absolutely,” I groaned, then glanced over at Njam as he shoved down his boxers. An idea popped into my head. “We’re going to share you. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

She nodded her head, her dark eyes dancing. This prostitute was so delicious. I’d never been with one before, at least not knowingly, and I didn’t care. Not with her in this delicious harem outfit. I wanted to rip down those pantaloons and go to town on her.

“You know how to give a blowjob?” I asked, standing up, my futa-dick thrusting out before me.

Her hand squeezed my shaft, her fingers soft as silk. “You want me suck your cock? My mouth give good pleasure.”

“No, no, your husband’s cock,” I moaned, “while I breed your tight pussy, Ayishah.”

She shuddered. Her eyes went so wide. “Oh, that is naughty, President Futa.”

The king grinned at me. He clearly approved, stroking his cock and staring at his prostitute-wife.

“Go,” I told her. “Fall to your knees and blow him while I take care of that hot cunt of yours.”

“Yes, President Futa!” The girl moved with such grace, all willowy delight like Barbara Eden from I Dream of Jeannie.

She sank to her knees before King Njam, her hands stroking up his hairy thighs. She thrust her rump at me, the curves of her dusky butt-cheeks bleeding through the the transparent fabric of her pantaloons. I groaned at the sight, my dick throbbing in need, my pussy so wet.

As the king groaned, Ayishah sucking on his dick, I sank to my knees behind her. I ripped down her pantaloons and exposed her cute tush and the tight slit of her shaved pussy. She had a virginal quality about her that made me ache.

“Yes,” groaned the king, one hand dug into her hair as she bobbed her mouth up and down his shaft. She still wore her veil, but she must have lifted it to swallow his dick. “That’s it. Ooh, you are such a little slut.” He growled something in Arabic.

She moaned and wiggled her hips. A line of her clear pussy juices ran down her inner thighs.

Groaning, I brought my cock to her juicy twat. I pressed against her snatch. Her labia stretched around my thick tip. I groaned as her wet silk engulfed me. Despite her coy, virginal act, she had no hymen. I sank into her depths with ease, her twat clenching around me.

I buried to the hilt in her, my hands gripping her hips. Then I drew back and slammed into her again and again. I groaned, the pleasure spilling through me. This was such a wondrous visit to the Saudi Arabia. An absolute delight.

“Yes, yes, yes, Ayishah,” I panted. “I’m going to breed this hot cunt. I’m going to fill you with my cum.”

She moaned about the king’s dick while her pussy squeezed down on my withdrawing cock.

I thrust back into her, the silky friction washing over me. “I can tell how much you want my futa-cum firing into you. You’re just so eager for it.”

She moaned again.

“You really turn women into sluts, don’t you?” he said.

“I do,” I groaned. “Into sluts that please their husbands after I’m gone.”

He groaned, his hands gripping the prostitute’s head, fucking Ayishah’s mouth up and down his shaft. “Lucky husbands.”

I grinned at him, thrusting harder and harder into Ayishah’s tight cunt. Her juicy snatch stimulated me. My orgasm built in my pussy. Every thrust into her tight depths spilled rapture down my shaft to my hot cunt.

As my twat grew hotter, my ovaries grew tighter. They absorbed the heat, exciting my cum in them. My tits heaved in my blouse as I slammed into the prostitute’s snatch, loving how that ache built at the tip of my girl-cock, that wondrous need to erupt into her snatch and fill her with blast after blast of my jizz.

It would be incredible.

“Becky, she is sucking so hard,” he groaned. “She wants my cum, too.”

“She’s a slut now,” I groaned. “Just like any wife I bed. Mmm, imagine that. Having slutty wives loving you, eager to do wicked things to you.”

“Yes, yes, maybe I keep Ayishah!” he grunted as I plowed the girl harder.

“Maybe,” I said. “Imagine all the delights?”

His head leaned back as I fucked into the girl’s pussy harder. She whimpered, a sound of wanton delight. Her hips wiggled, her dusky rump jiggling every time my crotch smacked into her tight tush. It was such a wicked sight to behold. I loved it.

My futa-cock ached as I churned her snatch to a hot froth. I plunged over and over into her. I groaned, growing dizzy with delight. That swelling ache built and built. I shuddered, gripping her flesh, so close to erupting into her.

“Kess ikhtak!” the king groaned. His bearded face twisted in rapture. “Drink it, Ayishah! You dirty slut! Drink it all!”

The girl’s pussy squeezed down around my plunging cock as she swallowed her client’s jizz. I buried into her and she squealed. Her twat convulsed around me. My eyes widened. It was incredible feeling the prostitute-wife’s tight snatch massaging my cock.

“Yes, yes, you want my cum!” I moaned as I buried into her. “Oh, you’re such a naughty slut for it!”

“Cum in her,” groaned the king, staring at me, lust shining in his eyes. “Make her utterly into a whore!”

I shuddered and buried into her. My dick erupted into her convulsing depths. Her writhing snatch milked my cock. Pleasure slammed through me. A dizzy passion rippled around me. I swayed, holding onto Ayishah’s hips as such delights melted my mind.

Her hungry pussy ached to be bred. She worked out every drop of me while my body rejoiced. My pussy juices flooded down my thighs. My own cunt convulsed, sending waves of rapture lapping into my mind, mixing with the bliss firing from my dick.

“Oh, yes, Ayishah, you’re just our little slut,” I moaned. “Mmm, you’re going to be such a naughty lover.” My eyes flicked to the king. “And she’s not the only wife you can have that’s a slut in bed.”

“What?” he panted.

“Imagine Queen Hana and Queen Basira writhing in bed together. Loving you.” I grinned. “Loving each other.”

“Mithlyya,” he groaned, the word thick. “That is… You are a wicked futanari, Becky.”

“I know,” I said. “But just imagine your two queens loving you. Hungry for your cum. I can give you that.” I arched eyebrows. “I can make them into your personal little whores. They will give you such delights. Why pay for it when your wives can give you so much more.”

“You are temptation made flesh,” he groaned. “Maybe it was not Allah who sent you, but Shaitan.”

“I’m here to unite the world in love,” I said. “End of wars. Of strife. Isn’t Allah a God who values peace? ‘If you save one man, it is like you have saved all of mankind,’ I said. Isn’t that how the sura goes?”

“You have read the Koran?”

I smiled at him. I hadn’t. Only parts.

He snarled something in Arabic. “You will breed my wives. They will bear your futa-daughters.”

“A union between us,” I said. “A joining of our two countries in a way they’ve never been allied before.” I licked my lips. “Queen Hana and Queen Basira in your bed, licking you, kissing you, devouring your cum out of the other’s pussy. Have you ever experienced that treat?” I shuddered, my dick still buried in Ayishah’s pussy. I could fuck her again. “It is an exceptional delight.

“A delight fit for a king.”

He laughed, his muscular chest, as hairy as a shaggy carpet, heaved. “You are wicked, Becky. So wicked. Allah forgive me, but I want that.”

“Shall we?” I asked, pulling my girl-cock out of the girl’s pussy.

He glanced at the waiting guards. He barked at them in Arabic. One saluted and then vanished. He rose, pushing Ayishah’s head from his lap in the process. He held out my arm. “Shall we retire to my chambers so you can make my wives into whores.”

“Into your own personal harem of sinful delights,” I said, taking his arm.

“Just like you promised in that debate last November.”

“I never lie,” I said. “I say what I’m going to do, and then I do it.”

“You are a rare thing, Becky,” he said as we moved through the antechamber. “Do not let this sordid world of politics crush you.”

“I’m having too much fun fucking to let that happen,” I told him and winked. “It’s a far, far better way to conduct diplomacy.”

He nodded his head in agreement.

We moved through the luxurious hallways of Qasr Al Hukm, the royal palace. It wasn’t far to his chambers. We passed busts of previous kings rendered in marble and rich oil paintings of Saudi oil princes dressed in their fine robes, looking like Bedouin’s tent bedecked in riches. His personal rooms held a large bed, an ornate hutch left open that held a TV but could be hidden to give an illusion the room was straight out of the 7th century. The furniture all was carved into works of art, the sheets silk interwoven with golden thread.

I stripped naked, my round breasts still firm as I approached my thirty-eighth birthday. I shuddered, my pussy juices soaking my blonde bush. My dick hard. He settled down in a chair that almost resembled a throne, the top carved with rearing stallions. He stroked his beard, waited.

The door opened.

Queens Hana and Basira entered wearing light, silk robes, the type a woman would wear when coming to her lover’s, or husband’s, room. They wore no keffiyeh, their black-hair falling loose. They made it in two steps before they noticed me standing naked.

Hana, the older of the two, gasped. She was my age, mature and lovely. Clearly she had used the resources of her husband to keep herself looking beautiful, her face adorned with subtle makeups, her mascara thick, making her dark eyes more exotic. Her large breasts swelled as she sucked in a deep breath.

Basira, a decade or more younger than me clasped slender fingers, adorned with jeweled rings, over her mouth. Her eyes were so wide, her dusky cheeks going dark with a blush. Her slender, almost girlish, frame trembled beneath her robe.

“What is this, Njam?” demanded Queen Hana, her eyes flashing to her husband. “Why is the president here? Were you…” Her eyes widened, seeing him equally naked.

“No, no, not with her,” he said.”

“With that slut you married to fuck?” Basira said. “And now…” Her eyes widened as she stared at me.

“You cannot mean for us…” Queen Hana shook her head, her dark curls spilling about her face, her eyes so wide. “Husband!”

“What?” I asked, shaking my fut-dick at them. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about me.” I licked my lips. “Never wondered what it would be like for the world’s first futa to slip into your bed while your husband was away, Hana. Or was with Basira?”

The older woman stiffened. No, older was the wrong word. Mature. Like me. I used to think someone in their thirties was old, now that I was nearing forty I knew how wrong that was. She glanced at Basira, the younger wife primping, nipples poking against the soft silk of her robe.

“You’ve never ached to know what it would be like. You’ve heard of me. How women flock to me. Ache to be bred by me and my holy seed.” I slid my hand up my dick. I could feel the bead of precum forming their, glistening.

Hana’s tongue flicked across her lips.

“Yes, you have,” I said. “And you, too, Basis.”

“I have,” Basira said. The younger woman threw open her robe exposing a sensual negligee below. Clearly, she dressed to please her husband. Her breasts were small handfuls cupped in the soft purple of the silk, a fuzzy fringe running along the seam. She pulled that off next, exposing her pale-dusky breasts, her brown nipples hard and long. “So many times. Come, Hana, this is what our husband wants.”

“Filthy pig that he is,” Hana muttered, glaring at him. “Huh, Njam?”

I arched an eyebrow. She was a lot more… expressive than I thought Arab women acted. Weren’t they all supposed to be submissive to their husbands. But she had defiance burning in her eyes as her hands ripped at the ties of her robe.

“If you can tame that one’s tongue, I would appreciate it, Becky,” Njam said.

Queen Hana snorted, thrusting off her silk robe to expose a pair of naked tits, their size artificially enhanced. Another shock. Her breasts had that overripe plumpness of silicone implants, masterfully done. They jiggled with her every movement. She hooked her fingers in the skimpy panties she wore, shoving them down.

“I will fuck you, Becky,” Queen Hana said, stepping out of them, her pussy shaved as bare as Ayishah’s.

I thought Muslim women would have thick bushes. Even Basira turned out to be shaved, her pussy lips tighter than Hana’s, the more mature queen’s labia thrusting out thick from her plump vulva. I licked my lips in delight as Queen Hana sauntered to me.

A moment later, Basira darted forward, rushing past the mature queen, to fall to her knees and grab my futa-cock. She stroked it, loving it while licking her lips. Her dark eyes smoldered as they stared up at me before she nibbled on the tip.

“Sharmota,” spat Queen Hana. I didn’t know what the word meant, but I knew an insult when I heard one. She was jealous of the younger queen. I bet Queen Hana’s boob job, the plastic surgery, all of it happened after her husband married this nubile beauty sucking my dick.

“Stop that,” I said, pulling my cock from her mouth.

The Arab queen blinked her eyes. She flicked her tongue across them as she stared up at me. “What? You don’t want me suck it?”

“She doesn’t want to bed a whore,” Queen Hana said, stopping before me, her large, fake tits quivering. She licked her lips, her eyes running up and down my body. “Do you, President Woodward?”

“Becky, Your Majesty,” I said. “I think we can be on first names, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, fondling my cock. Her nipples were so hard. Juices gleamed on her inner thigh. “If my husband wants me to do something so degrading, I can at least enjoy it. But…” She pressed closer. “You are a futanari of taste. I can please you more than little Basira there can.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You think so?”

Hana pressed her lush tits into mine. The feel of her plump fullness caressed my softer tits. Her lips nuzzled into my ear. As she rubbed her thumb across the crown of my cock, smearing the precum around the tip and sending pleasure shuddering down my shaft and threw my body, she cooed, “I will melt your bones and make you explode. I know how to please a cock.”

I arched an eyebrow. These Muslim women were far different than I expected. This was good to be surprised, to have my prejudices knocked away. Her tongue caressed my ear, warm and wet, sending new shivers through me.

“Okay,” I said. “If you think you can please me.”

“I know I can,” she moaned, pulling away from me. “Let me show you.”

“Get on the bed,” I said. “Stretch out.”

She flashed me a sultry smile. Then she sauntered to the bed, her rump swaying. Her husband groaned. Had he ever seen her acting so sexual before? Had he ever seen her so aroused? Did she conceal her true appetites from him thinking she had to be the perfect wife?

“And you,” I said, staring down at Queen Basira. She nursed on the tip of my dick. “Do you want to please me, too?”

She sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing while her eyes twinkled.

“I will please you far, far more than her, Becky,” Hana purred, stretched out on the bed now, her breasts pillowing. She looked so perfect, a harem beauty ready to please her sultan. Or her futa-sultana.

“I bet you will,” I said. “Basira, join her.”

Basira pulled her mouth off my cock. She blinked at me. “Join… Hana?”

“On the bed,” I said. “I want to compare you. Stretch out beside her.”

“Okay, Becky.” She rose with grace, her small breasts jiggling. They were such firm handfuls. My fingers twitched, arms almost snapping forward. I controlled myself as a bead of pussy juices trickled down my thighs.

Basira stretched out her lithe form beside the bustier Hana. There was a good foot between them, both queens staring at me but not each other. Basira spread her thighs, flashing her juicy slit at me, her pussy lips parting open. Her pink depths beckoned to be bred. Beside her, Hana licked her lips and cupped her tits, the queen offering them up to me.

Njam moaned from his chair, stroking himself as he stared at his wives.

“What do you think?” I asked, glancing at him. “Your wives are beautiful.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Both his queens smiled.

“But I can’t get a good comparison. They’re not close enough together,” I said.

Basira scooted over in a flash, her right leg slipping over Hana’s left. Their shoulders touched. The mature queen shot the younger one a venomous look for a moment. I shook my head. They needed to unite, too.

“Mmm, that’s sexy,” I purred. “Isn’t it, Njam?”

“My queens are… gorgeous creatures,” he said. “Inspiring.”

“They both have such lovely breasts. However enhanced Hana did a masterful job.”

“I could give you his number,” Njam said. “Your breasts are spectacular, but nature can always be improved.”

“Maybe,” I said, licking my lips as I stared at Hana’s tits. They were nearly perfect, one of the best boob jobs I had ever seen. “But there’s something to be said about a pair of perky, natural tits like Basira’s, too.”

He groaned.

“I need a better comparison,” I said. “Maybe roll on your sides and press your tits together.”

“You want us to do sinful things to each other,” Hana said even as Basira rolled over, pressing her tits into her sister-wife’s side.

“She does,” Basira said. “I’m willing. Are you.”

Hana frowned. “Is this what you want, husband? For your wives to engage in sihaq with each other.”

“Sihaq?” I asked.

“Lesbian sex,” he groaned. And, yes! That is my will.”

“And mine,” I said. “You won’t get bred if I don’t see you two having some fun first.”

Hana quivered. Her eyes stared at my cock, her tongue crossing her lips. Then, with a moan, she rolled over and pressed her larger tits into Basira’s. The two queens tits came together. Their nipples were just so delicious. They rubbed together. As their breasts rose and fell, they both quivered. They stared into each other’s eyes.

Basira’s arms slid around Hana’s. The mature queen stiffened for a moment as their bodies pressed tighter. The king groaned behind me as his wives bodies were rubbing together. Then Basira nuzzled in, pressing her lips on Hana’s.

The mature queen wrenched her head away, staring at me.

“No cock,” I said. “I want to see love.”

Hana shivered while Basira nibbled on her cheekbone. The mature queen’s dark eyes brimmed with passion. I stroked my futa-dick, my pussy juices running down my thighs. I ached to be in them. To breed them. With a sigh, Hana turned her head and kissed Basira hard on the mouth.

Hana kissed with aggression. Now that she had surrendered to my will, she submitted with all her heart. I groaned, loving it. The queens’ lips worked together, their tongues dueling. They pressed their bodies tight, legs entwined.

“Kess ikhtak,” Njam breathed. “That is a beautiful sight, Becky. You are truly doing it.”

“And you’ll have harmony in your harem,” I said. “If they’re loving each other, then they won’t be jealous.”

“You are a houri,” he said. “An angel, Becky.”

“Maybe,” I said.

Hana suddenly rolled Basira onto her back, the mature queen settling atop the younger. Their bodies writhed together as they shuddered. Their pussies rubbed, clits coming together. I stared at them as they were consumed by the lust in inspired in them.

Basira grabbed Hana’s rump. The younger queen kneaded the mature queen’s rump, pulling apart those butt-cheeks. I shuddered, fighting the urge to just pounce on them. It was incredible. They were loving each other.

I wanted more.

“Hana, turn around,” I said. “Sixty-nine with her! I want you two making each other cum. Fingers lips. All of it!”

“Yes!” Hana growled, her voice low and sultry, a hungry purr.

“Oh, Allah,” Basira whimpered as Hana turned around.

The mature queen’s large tits pressed into Basira’s stomach as she lowered down. She pressed her head between Basira’s thighs. Hana nuzzled into the younger queen’s snatch. She licked. Basira moaned.

I couldn’t see the passion directly, Hana’s black hair blocked the view. For a moment, I remembered my brief stint as a porn star, and how I kept having to move my blonde hair out of the way so the cameras could film my tongue lapping at Cherri Delight’s snatch.

A dizzy heat washed through me. My pussy clenched as the two queens licked and devoured each other. They feasted on the other’s royal snatch. Their bodies writhed together. The air filled with the scent of hot pussies. Mine. Theirs.

I licked my lips, wanting to pound my cock until I came. But I held off, just rubbing the tip, enjoying this sapphic sight along with King Njam. He kept groaning as he watched his wives sixty-nining.

“They are so beautiful,” he said. “My houri.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding my head, Hana’s supple back arching as she feasted on Basira’s cunt. “They are. So inspiring.

The two women moaned louder and louder. Their licks grew noisy. Basira’s fingers slid along Hana’s butt-cheeks and vanished into her crack. Hana’s head suddenly snapped up, her face smeared in the other queen’s pussy juices.

She whimpered something in Arabic, her eyes wide. It was clear Basira had thrust a finger or two into Hana’s asshole. Pleasure spread across the mature queen’s pussy-smeared face. Then, with a hungry growl, she buried her face back into Basira’s pussy.

“Yes, yes, make each other cum,” Njam moaned. Then he growled something Arabic.

His queens both moaned in response.

I loved the sight. My hands clenched and relaxed. This was such a wicked delight to witness. It had me trembling, aching to breed both queens. Basira worked her fingers in and out of Hana’s rectum, plundering the queen, driving her wild.

They were writhing and moaning. Their passion spilled through the room. I grew breathless, feeling their orgasms building. I gripped my futa-cock, my pussy juices trickling down my thighs as I felt it building and building.

Then Hana cried out in obvious rapture.

She bucked atop Basira, her orgasm bursting through her. The mature queen hips wiggled, grinding her convulsing pussy into the younger queen’s mouth. Hana kept her face buried into Basira, eating her through her orgasm.

“Hana!” squealed Basira.

The younger queen joined Hana in rapture. The king groaned as both his wives writhed in lesbian passion. The two had given each other such rapture. They convulsed, their passion crashing through them. Their moans echoed through the room.

“My houri!” groaned king Njam.

“Kiss each other!” I moaned. “Share your newfound love for each other.”

Hana moved. Her face dripped pussy juices as she spun around. The queens embraced, Basira’s rams locking around Hana’s body. They kissed with noisy passion, sharing their pussy cream. I licked my lips, staring at the two wives’ clits rubbing together, their shaved pussies gleaming with their passion.

I fell on the bed. I crawled to them, my cunt cream trickling down my swaying clit-dick. I smelled their musks, a mix of tart and spicy delight. I pressed my face into Basira’s pussy, flicking my tongue through her folds while her husband, the King of Saudi Arabia, watched.

My tongue licked up, gathering Basira’s tart delight. Then it became a spicy ambrosia as I reached Hana’s thicker labia. Her pussy lips rubbed on my cheeks as I flicked up her taint and kept going. I needed to try that asshole out.

“Becky!” Hana gasped as I licked her asshole. I swirled my tongue about it. “That is as nasty as what Basira did to me.”

“What is she doing to you?” Basira moaned.

“She is rimming my sphincter, my husband!” Hana moaned. “I hope this is satiating your perverted lusts.”

“It is,” he groaned. “She is going to fuck you both so hard.”

“Yes!” Basira moaned. “Please, please, Becky. Breed us. Slide into our pussies. I’m so hot and Hana is so wet.”

“Mmm, I am,” Hana moaned as my tongue swirled around her sour asshole. I caressed her sphincter. I loved texture on my tongue. My excitement beat through me, my hands gripping her butt-cheeks. “And so were you, Basira. You tasted… delicious.”

“As did you, Hana.”

The two queens kissed again, lips smacking. I shuddered, my futa-dick throbbing. I wanted to be in them, but I needed one more good taste of their royal cunts. I kissed down from Hana’s asshole, crossing her taint. I nuzzled into the hot flesh of her pussy, my tongue caressing her. I fluttered it through her, teasing her.

She whimpered and groaned. Her body shook from side to side, squirming atop her sister-wife. Hana’s spicy passion coated my tongue, mixing with the sour musk lingering from her asshole. I went lower and lower, my tongue flicked out and brushed the meeting of their clits.

They both squealed into their shared kiss as I caressed their buds.

I fluttered my tongue against those two pink nubs, reveling in the mix of their spicy and tart passions. My nose pressed into Hana’s snatch while my chin rubbed against Basira’s plump folds. They both shifted and moaned, their pleasure radiating through the room.

“You need to fuck them, Becky,” panted the king. “You have to breed my wives.”

“Yes, yes, breed us!” moaned Hana. “We loved each other, Becky.”

“Yes, we did,” Basira moaned. “That was so naughty. I came so hard. But I need your futa-dick in me.”

“No, in me!” Hana moaned. “I am the first wife. The head queen.”

True.

My fingers dug into her rump as I fluttered my tongue up and down at the meeting of their flesh. I danced between them, gathering their tart and spicy flavors. I loved them. They were so exciting. They mixed in my mouth, the meeting of two queens.

My dick throbbed. My pussy clenched. It was time. I had to fuck them. I had to be in their royal cunts while their husband, the king, watched. I rose, my round breasts swaying, my blonde hair caressing my shoulders.

I threw a look over my shoulder at the king stroking his cock. “I’m about to breed both your wives.”

“Yes, yes,” he panted his eyes wild with lust. “Do it. Fuck them, Becky!”

“Use our naughty pussies!” moaned Basira.

“Breed us!” moaned Hana. “I need it. I can’t think of anything else.”

I pressed my futa-dick against their pussies, right where their clits rubbed together. As they squirmed, tribbing their snatches together, they bathed me. I shuddered, my eyes so wide as the pleasure spilled down my shaft.

My pussy clenched. It was incredible. I just wanted to thrust forward and be in them filled to the hilt. I drew in a deep breath, my heart hammering in my chest. It would be incredible. They would engulf me in sweet delight.

I slid up to Hana’s pussy and buried into the Queen of Saudi Arabia’s snatch.

Her married pussy engulfed my cock. I plunged into her hot depths in a single stroke. My crotch smacked into her vulva. Her butt-cheeks rippled. Her back arched, her snatch squeezing down on my girth.

“Her futa-cock is in me!” she moaned. “Basira, she’s fucking me!”

Basira moaned something in Arabic. “You so lucky!”

“You’ll get a taste,” I said, smiling. My tits heaved as I pumped away at Hana’s snatch. I reamed the mature queen’s cunt, her pussy caressing my dick, building my orgasm.

I was already so close to cumming. This entire situation was just so exciting. It was utterly unexpected. I was so glad I got to enjoy it. To fuck not just one queen, but two. I shook my head in pure delight.

I ripped my girl-dick out of Hana’s pussy and rammed it into the younger queen’s snatch. Basira squealed as her tight cunt clenched down on my invading futa-cock. My twat squeezed, too, drinking in the pleasure shooting down my shaft.

“No, no, I need you in me!” whimpered Hana.

“I’ll be back!” I promised, thrusting hard into Basira’s snatch. “Just… just… you have to share. You’re both Njam’s wives. You need to love each other and share in the pleasures of his harem.”

“Yes!” he groaned as I pumped away at his younger wife.

Then I ripped out of Basira’s tight snatch. For a moment, my dick ached to be in hot pussy. The air felt cool around my soaked dick. Then I plunged into Hana. The mature queen moaned in delight, squirming atop the younger.

“Becky!” whimpered Basira.

“Ooh, she’s in me!” groaned Hana. “You have to cum in me, Becky!”

“I will,” I promised, slamming into her, thrusting with all my might. “Just… just…”

I ripped out of Hana’s snatch and plunged into Basira’s. This was such a fun delight to experience. A few strokes in Basira’s tight pussy then I was back into Hana’s juicy snatch. The mature queen moved her hips, stirring her twat around me before I yanked my futa-dick out of her. Basira welcomed me back, clenching her silky walls around my cock.

My dick’s tip drank in the pleasure while my pussy grew hotter and hotter. Juices trickled out of me while my tits heaved. My flesh smacked into them, one moment smacking into Hana’s vulva while I fucked Basira, then into Hana’s rump while I plunged into her creamy twat.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I howled, dizzy pleasure sweeping through me.

“Becky!” gasped Hana. “Yes, yes, yes! Breed me! Breed us!”

I rammed back into Basira.

“Fire your cum into us!” Basira moaned, her twat clenching down around my futa-cock. “Please, please, give it to us!”

My ovaries grew tighter and tighter. Every time I ripped out of one cunt and buried into another royal pussy, I came closer to exploding. My body shook. The pleasure raced through me. My head swayed from side to side. My tits heaved. Stars danced before my eyes as the ecstasy swelled in me. I groaned, my snatch clenching. Juices leaked out of me.

They dribbled down my thighs.

“Breed my wives,” groaned Njam.

“Yes!” Hana moaned as I rammed back into her. “Breed us.”

I couldn’t hold back. Her pussy squeezed down around me. Her royal husband watched me pump away at her snatch. I drew back and then rammed into her cunt. I was the President of the United States, and I was cumming into the Queen of Saudi Arabia’s cunt.

Ecstasy fired out of me. My dick unloaded. Two hots squirts fired out of me as she cried out in rapture. Her pussy convulse around me, joining me in ecstasy. I yanked out of her, the pleasure screaming through me.

My jizz splattered across both their royal cunts, drenching them in my seed.

“Fuck, yes!” I howled and rammed into Basira’s pussy, spurting more and more jizz into the younger queens’ depths.

She cried out in Arabic. Her pussy spasmed about my dick. She writhed, twitching with a fast, rippling pattern. She milked out my cock, ensuring that she got an equal amount of my fertile seed as Hana.

I swayed, the passion besetting me from both sides. It left me dizzy. My eyes fluttered. I groaned, panting, my heart pounding in rapturous delight. I shook my head, my eyes fluttering. I was struggling to think straight through the ecstasy.

“You bred my wives,” groaned King Njam.

“Yes!” I panted, my body shuddering. I ripped out of Basira’s cunt. Both their pussies dripped in my seed, running out of them as the two queens panted. I glanced at the king. “Enjoy your new slutty wives.”

He grinned and pounced on them.

I leaned back and watched him line up at Hana’s cum-filled cunt. He rammed into her, making her moan. Pleasure crossed his face as he thrust into her. He stirred her up then switched to Basira’s cunt, burying into their sloppy depths.

I smiled. I did this. I loved being the world’s first futa.

As King Njam fucked back and forth between his two wives’ sloppy cunts, I grinned at him and said, “They’re going to have my futa-daughters, you know. I did breed them.”

“I know,” he groaned, his face twisting with pleasure as he pumped away in Queen Hana’s cream-filled snatch. He ripped his cock out and plunged into his younger wife’s tighter snatch. “And?”

“And they’re going to be your step-daughters. You’re going to raise them. They’ll be a part of your family, and they’ll need a world that doesn’t hate them.”

He glanced at me.

“A world that loves them, cherishes them, respects them.” I smiled at him as he kept fucking into Basira’s cunt. “And you can help me build that world, Your Majesty.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 17th, 2047

“He went for it,” Adelia asked.

“Yep,” I said, nodding. “That’s how I won over the Saudis. But it wasn’t smooth just because I had their king. People still resisted. He had a horrible time dealing with the Religious Police.” I sighed. “Things still aren’t perfect in the Middle East, but my futa-daughters are making in roads. Having two growing up in the royal palace was a big help.”

“So there’s hope?”

“Yep, there’s hope.” I smiled. “Things are changing slowly. They’re improving. And our new world government will make it one of our priorities. A stable Middle East is vital for the rest of the world. It’s the meeting place of three continents. It straddles the trading routes of the world.”

“That is good to hear.” Adelia shifted .”Now, you next big diplomacy was Slovenia, correct? Your contest?”

I smiled. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect that to happen when I made my state visit to the president-for-life of that country. People said it was a mistake to even go there and meet with him, but if we don’t talk with our opponents, how can we convince them to change. You don’t do it by shouting and insulting them. You have to be an example to them. Connect to them on a personal level.

“I just had to do it in a strange way.”

Adelia laughed, nodding her head. “That it was.”

To be continued…

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