[F/Futa4A] Helping my mom find herself......and get laid too.
"Mom, get out of the car." I said, instantly fed up with her.
"Livvy, I don't know if I can do this." my mother mewled, covering herself as best she could. "It feels like everything is....on display."
"That's kind of the point, mom." I rolled my eyes, drumming my fingers against the roof of the car. The neon glow of the club's sign pulsed behind me, painting our soon to be argument in pink, then blue, then pink again. SHE had come to ME with this idea, and yet she started preaching about piety and decency when I suggested the place, when we picked out her dress, when we left the house, and now here. Not even 30 minutes after the last time. "You promised me you wouldn't go back to that bigoted, bible belt bullshit remember? You're gonna go out there, you're gonna look HOT, you're gonna flirt with AT LEAST one person, and then you're gonna realize you've been denying yourself happiness your entire life. Kay?"
She sighed, then swallowed, then looked up at me. "I...I know I promised. But I didn't realize we'd go somewhere so..." Her hands fluttered up and down her frame, gesturing at everything and nothing.
"I already told you, the people here are cool. Half of them are just here to dance, and the other half ask before they touch. It's not some back-alley meat market," I reached into the car and undid her seat belt. "Now, will you please get out of the car?"
Her fingers trembled as she hesitated, then finally gripped the door handle. The club's bass thrummed through the pavement, vibrating up through the soles of my heels, and I watched the pulse in her throat jump when a group of laughing women stumbled past us, their sequins catching the streetlights. One of them, your typical choker and fishnets type, caught my mom staring and winked. She audibly gasped, and that got a laugh out of them.
"You just said they'd be polite!" she hissed.
"They politely want to fuck you. And speaking of," I said, reaching into my purse, "Here." I cut five off a strip of condoms. My condoms.
"Olivia Jane! What in the devil are you implying?"
"I'm implying that if you get a chance to hook up tonight, you should be safe," I said, pressing the condoms into her clammy palm. Her fingers curled instinctively around the foil squares, but her face twisted like I'd handed her a dead mouse. The bassline from the club swelled again, drowning out her indignant gasp—thank god. "Mom, listen to me. You spent 23 years married to a man who resented what you were and treated you like a dirty secret. Tonight you get to be someone's fantasy."
A flurry of emotions passed over her face, no doubt thinking of a dozen things to say and a dozen ways I would convince her otherwise, eventually landing on a reluctant "Assuming anyone picks me out of the crowd."
"Hey!" I said, turning on my heel. "People love a MILF. They also love fat, womb stretching girlcocks, so you've got pretty good odds!" She gaped at me, scandalized, but I simply pat her on the arm with a satisfied grin on my face. "C'mon. I see my friends at the door."
Walking arm in arm with my mom, I felt the way she flinched whenever someone looked her up and down. The way she tugged at her dress, which had both a short hem and a deep v, and the way she kept making sure her cock was tucked were inadvertently telling passerby exactly where to look. But the moment we reached my friends, people she actually knew, she seemed to soften up. For a minute or two, at least.
"Hi Faith~, hi Cece~," I cooed, watching Mom's shoulders tense at the way Faith's gaze lingered on the exposed curve of her cleavage. Cece, ever the favorite, went in straight for a hug.
"Hey, Liv. Hello Mrs. Miller." Faith purred, finally moving her eyes up to mom's face. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Didn't peg you as the type." Mom stiffened at the pun, but managed a tight smile when Cece elbowed Faith sharply.
"Remember how she and Dean got divorced?" I said, squeezing Mom's arm before she could shrink away from that. Both of them nodded. "Well it turns out my bitchass dad had 4 other kids behind her back. Now Mom's gotta get out there and make up the difference." I grinned as Faith barked out a laugh, Cece tried and failed to stifle hers, and Mom choked on her own spit. I could feel her staring bullets into me, mortified but too embarrassed to defend herself. Perfect vengeance for every time we had a "talk" during puberty.
Faith finally managed to stop giggling and leaned in, grabbing my mom's hand and doing the most exaggerated curtsy she could. "Well, well, Mrs.Miller, if that's the case maybe I should volunteer for the cause." Her smirk was playful, her tone flowery, but her grip firm, and her thumb tracing slow circles against mom's wrist where a pulse was surely hammering. I'd known this girl for more than a decade and even I wasn't sure if she was joking. "Only question is if you're up to par. Olivia, darling, how big's your mom?"
"Fucking huge," I answered, mother and Cece both turning red for different reasons. "But you're banned until you can hold on to someone longer than a year." Faith clutched her chest in mock offense, but all four of us knew I was dead on. The moment was cut short when Cece gently smacked us both and pulled mom toward the club entrance.
Inside it was like night and day. Outside, the club had seemed seedy, but one inch past the doors it was a den of velvet and mirrors. The air smelled like fifty different perfumes, and twenty different drinks. Bodies pulsed on the dance floor, slick with sweat under the strobing lights, and every so often I'd catch glimpses of hands slipping past waistbands, fingers tracing collarbones. Mom clutched my arm like she was afraid of getting kidnapped, Faith and Cece pressed on and led us to the bar.
The bartender barely glanced at Mom's ID, something I felt a little bad for, but she stiffened when I handed her two drinks. "Strawberry margarita, left one's virgin." I called out over the music, grinning at her horrified expression.
"What? Livvy we brought the car here."
"You drink, I drive." I insisted, pushing the drinks back into her hands. "I'm not the one who needs the courage."
She hesitated, then took a sip,eyes wide at the burst of sweetness, and that was when the lights dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd as the DJ’s voice crackled through the speakers, announcing the night’s main attraction: The Serpent of Sappho. The crowd erupted into cheers, and before Mom could react, the stage curtains parted.
Spotlights flared to life, revealing a towering figure in nothing but platform heels and a harness of shimmering chains. Her skin glowed under the violet lights, sweat already gleaming along the curves of her hips, her cock swaying thick and heavy between her thighs with each deliberate step. The bass dropped, and she set into motion. Hips rolling, fingers trailing up her own body before she gripped the pole and spun, legs spreading wide to show off the glistening pink of her slit beneath the proud arc of her shaft.
Mom's mouth hung open, eyes locked onto the dancer's body with a mixture of shock and something far more complicated. Her hands flew to her chest either to cover herself or steady her racing heart, but I caught the way her fingers twitched when the dancer arched back, letting her cock slap against her stomach in a slow, obscene roll. The margarita sloshed dangerously in Mom's trembling grip as she whispered, "Olivia, this is—what is this place?" except her voice cracked halfway through, and her thighs pressed together tight enough to make the fabric of her dress strain.
"It's a futa club. Obviously." I smirked, watching the dancer on stage hooked a heel around the pole and let herself fall backward in an arch. This was going to be great.
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Hello Lovely people of the internet! I'm here again with an actually simple idea this time, though that does mean the wall of text is even less justified than usual. Oh well. In this prompt I'm looking to play.... well I don’t know, actually! As I was putting pen to paper I kept coming up with plot bunnies, so take that to mean that you're free to apply with a twist of your own. Let me lay out the basics too, since I'm not nearly as good at subtext as I think I am.
Deborah “Debbie” Miller is your classic late 40s futa milf trad wife type. She’s lived her life as a woman of god despite the church’s stance on futas, practicing piety, purity, and love for her family. She got married at 23 and wasted no time in having her daughter Oliva. A lovely woman in her own right, even if she dyes her hair, has too many piercings, got tattoos against her parents wishes, and never pays attention in church. She’s also a futa, just like her mother. For 25 good years everything was sunshine and rainbows!...until it was discovered that her husband Dean had been cheating for 26 of those 25 years. One messy divorce later and things are…fine. But having had her life shaken up so suddenly has her wondering: If Dean and her parents and the church’s insistence on monogamy and chastity didn’t mean a single thing for her marriage, then maybe her daughter’s forward thinking, sex positive, secular lifestyle is worth listening to…
So, classic setup of a overly pious woman coming out of her shell and fucking as much as she pleases. The question is, what exactly does that entail? Is she so shy that she spends all her time at the gloryhole? Does she get swept up by some dominant gymbunny and taken for a ride? Does she actually do something as crazy as knock up one of her daughter’s friends? Drunk revenge sex on some poor soul who looks a little too much like her husband? All of the above and more? I’m sure you get the idea ;)
I’m not particularly set on who either of us plays! I could be Debbie herself, her daughter offering encouragement, your partner for the night, or a GM role where I play a dozen different girls who have all heard about the womb wrecker in the third floor bathroom. Whatever works best for you and the scenario you’re looking to play. I don’t even think we need to play out this first night specifically if you aren’t into “inexperienced” characters. The context is what matters here, because context is like…really hot.
Speaking of, a bit about myself: I’ve been RPing for about three and a half years now, well before I found out about this sub, and I'd like to think I'm pretty decent at it. My complete list of kinks is too long to put here, but the main ones for this RP would be Huge cocks, huge tits, Age Difference, futadom, femdom, breeding, excessive cum, outercourse and A LOT of Dirty talk. I prefer quality over frequency, sometimes taking days to reply, but I do my best to make up for it in the writing. We’re all adults, we’ve got busy lives, so if you’re scrambling to finish a message before you need to do something, don’t worry. I get it. It’ll be ready when it's ready. I also tend to skew on the longer side of messages, not only because there's a lot to say, but also because I enjoy a good amount of plot in my RP stories.
What do I expect from you? Your first message should include an idea for what kind of scenes you'd like to play out (we can workshop this, but I'd like for you to have something in mind), your kinks/limits, who you’d like to play, any changes you want to make, and if you want to let me know you’re thorough include the last song you listened to.
I’m looking for literate, creative people who are as obsessed with hung sexy women as I am. If that sounds like you, send a chat my way. I do think that’s everything however, so I hope to be seeing you!