“Work” From Home

Your body wracks with a shock that’s all too familiar to you, as you sit up in a jolt from your bed to turn off your morning alarm. The covers aren’t covered in sweat, as they have been recently, though. That’s good. Light pours through the tall window of your bedroom, sprinkled with dampened sounds of a new day in the city, and you throw yourself to the edge of the bed to get ready for the upcoming shift at work.

After tossing on what modicum of clothes feels acceptable for living in a townhouse with three other people, you shuffle out to this floor’s living area, where you already see one of your roommates up and at it, half-focused in the midst of a workout routine. It’s Jenny, one of the three futanari roommates that you share this house with, and if not for your half-asleep stupor, you would’ve been hard as a rock by now due to her outfit. A double sports bra gracefully lines her midriff, allowing for some form of support for her hugged F-cup breasts that jut out perfectly and perkily over her toned frame. The yoga pants that she’s somehow managed to slip into caress the shape of her pumped up bubble butt, doing nothing to hide its jiggling and flexing with each lunge. And at each full extension of Jenny’s lunges, a tucked away bulge graces the exercise mat as it moves, constrained by what little support her yoga pants can provide.

“Gooooood morning, sunshine,” Jenny calls, “you’re up a little earlier than usual.”

You pour over her body a little longer before realizing she’s speaking to you, “Oh, yeah…” you shake your head in an effort to get the tiredness out of your system. “Had a morning meeting to get on, so I’m just getting some cereal before logging on.”

She nods before turning her attention back to her workout, now working on other exercises. You pull your gaze away from Jenny, heading towards the small pantry and mini fridge that you all chipped in for. Grabbing the milk and cereal, you set them down as you idly check your watch while heading towards the utensils cabinet. With a bowl and spoon in hand, the cereal comes pouring out with a satisfying jingle as it tinkles across the ceramic surface. As you shake the box to get the perfect amount, you look up to see Jenny, having switched movements several times now, but you stop dead in your tracks to watch her. With her arms squarely rested on an elevated surface and her body in a horizontal fashion, your eyes track her every inch as she breezes through a set of hip thrusts. More so than her whole body, you fixate on her beautiful bulge, bouncing enticingly with every dip, and shaking in its confines as she completes each thrust. When you finally manage to separate your eyes from her crotch, you see that she’s been staring at you — for how long, your not sure. What makes you blush harder is that she’s smiling, as if she’s been thrusting harder this whole time, just for you. Your stare is driven back down with a wink from Jenny as you finish dishing up your cereal, thankful that it wasn’t the milk that you were pouring when that interaction happened.

After returning to your room, you fire up your computer to sign on to the meeting. While getting everything ready — your hair brushed and as managed as it can be for now, and a decent-enough shirt for the camera — you get a notification on your phone. It’s from… Jenny? Maybe she’s wishing you good luck in your meeting, or maybe she just wants you to know she’s headed out for the morning or something. Unlocking your phone, you almost fall out of your chair when you see a picture of her — taken from her point of view, one hand lifting up the waist of her yoga pants, revealing a dim view of her futa cock, which had grown substantially enough in the last couple of minutes to arc downward and snake beyond your view. A message follows:

“Look at what your staring did to me… I’ve had to cram it into my pussy for the time being, but you’re gonna have to take care of this. I’ll see you after the meeting.”

You gulp and try to fix your composure just as the meeting starts, and you fly into your presentation. It doesn’t help you that all you can think of is Jenny’s cock, or the way she was thrusting up and down — just the sheer thought of its size is enough to fill your head. Although the meeting’s reception is better than you’d hoped, all you want to do is exit it and get to your smoking hot futanari roommate as soon as possible.

The minute the meeting concludes, you log off, hurrying to your door as you don’t even leave time to let your computer go to sleep. You swing it open, and promptly plant your face into a soft, squishy pair of tits that surround you like a warm hug. Stepping back quickly, you stand in front of not Jenny, but another one of your roommates.

“Going somewhere, handsome?” A deep, husky voice soothingly penetrates your ears. Although you’d love to stay face to face with perky boobs that outsize your head, you look up to see the face of their owner. Raquel. Towering above you at nearly 7 feet tall, the raven hair vixen looks down at you with a near-predatory hunger, her tongue licking her lips as she steps forward, causing you to stumble back slightly.