Backwards, and down, in more ways than one.

Her knees folded up and she just slid down the bar, bonelessly, which was good, if she'd fallen forward, she might have crushed you, instead, it just pushed your hand back and her balls slid over your face, then the full length of her still hard cock, it's thick scent flooding over you as did the cum it was soaked in, leaving your face painted almost as white as hers was, when you could see it again, as she landed with a thump on the floor, leaning against the bar, staring at you with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open as she gasped ragged breaths. Her shirt was torn open, revealing a supportive white bra, nothing that would be too visible through her shirt, but her nipples were now painfully, obviously visible through it.

Even more than that, the obvious neediness and, well, sub drop (pun not intended), on her face made your heart clench. You hadn't meant to...it had been about getting her off your back, literally and figuratively and making her cum...but you remembered how you'd felt the first time and the domme who you'd been with had handled everything so well, you didn't want to think about how bad that would have been if she hadn't given you any aftercare. She'd just been being a good domme, but still...

You take a quick look around, sort of hoping that she's here, she was a professional, working here, but she definitely wasn't here now and she hadn't dommed Eleanor. You hadn't either...or hadn't meant to, but...the only people were the security guards, who were staring at you, and whose cups were bulging obscenely, the married couple who were cuddled up on a leather couch, the man sitting in the woman's lap, her arms around him, her cock still inside him, but clearly not actively fucking anymore, both as the man could nod respectfully to you and the woman could give you a wave back towards Eleanor and because there was no bouncing, or lifting, or moaning. The one professional dancer and DJ was actually looking a bit concerned and also waved you back towards Eleanor.

Remembering what had been done for you, you soften your voice, and erase all teasing, or mockery from it. "Asia, pass me a towel," you order and slide closer to Eleanor. "You did so good, baby," you hug her tightly, ignoring the fact that it ground cum into your chest and clothing. And hers. "You came so good for me, just like I wanted and you needed." She's so much bigger than you that it's hard, but you pull her head against your chest, she clutched back at you, so hard it hurt, but clearly not as hard as she could as you saw that the edging of the bar had actually become detached from the sheer **** of her grip.

"I--I--I--it's been so long and it's never been like that..." she whispered as Asia passed me a towel, wordlessly and I cleaned off my own face, then began to clean off Eleanor's. Her eyes are wet, but she's not crying, though her gaze keeps flicking past you to the security guards.

"Oh, sweetie, how long has it been since you had a good orgasm?" I asked, expecting the answer to be a few days, as her sheer size meant sex would be basically impossible, but surely she masturbated. You said, drawing her attention back to you and away from the guards.

"I told you...since Johnnie."

Despite my best efforts she must have seen my surprise, or heard the gasp from Asia, which got me to look sharply at the bartender. "Fuck Me, Refuel for the lady," I ordered coldly and Asia retreated. My voice warmed back up and I began to towel down the rest of her, more for the contact then because I was actually cleaning her ruined clothing. "Sweetie, you have to take better care of yourself. You know that's not healthy. Futa's need to cum at least once a week, minimum. A decade is...inhumane. Even in solitary confinement people wouldn't--"

"I can't! My dick is too big and masturbation doesn't work and I'm too big for any of the toys!" she snapped, angrily, her hands on your waist pulling you against its absurd length and proving the truth of that statement. Her emotional reaction was just further proof of how unbalanced she was at this moment. You shouldn't have criticized her in that moment, you hadn't meant it as criticism.

"Well, we've solved that problem, haven't we?" you ask carefully neutral.

"That--I'm not dumb, Doug," she used your first name for the first time, you hadn't even known she knew it and she blushed at whatever reaction you gave. She kept talking, "But those...that wasn't right what you did. A futa doesn't--a straight futa doesn't, except to get pregnant with her husband! I shouldn't have let you..."

Fuck. You hadn't asked...and she clearly hadn't understood when you'd told her the safe words that those were for her, not just for you. She could have stopped you...but not without embarrassing herself here, not without potentially hurting you. Shit...that wasn't what you'd meant to do...you had known a lot of futas had hang-ups around their pussies or asses, not, a small, angry part of you noted that most had any such hesitation about men's asses, but that wasn't how Eleanor was.

You hug her tightly. "I'm sorry, Eleanor, I...thought we were on the same page and you'd say red if you wanted me to stop, but I didn't make that clear and I didn't give you a lot of chances to talk..."

One hand closes around your head, you feel the strength as her fingers press against your temple, palming your skull easily, you feel the strength, fearing she could pop your skull, fearing she would pop your skull. "If I wanted to stop you, I would have," she growled, voice deep. "You taught me something about myself today...and I just have to accept that."

She pulled your head to her and kissed you deeply, despite your best efforts at cleaning her, you taste her thick seed on her lips, and as her tongue presses into your mouth, claiming the dominance you stole, you can taste her own cum on her tongue, clearly it must have been open when you made her paint herself. An image of being able to see it, of her lying on one of the benches as you pleasured her, of...though now that you've opened her horizons, the obvious answer is for her to find a futa lover. One of them might be big enough for her, and if not, they could pleasure her as well as you could...well, not as well, but pretty well.

Your own, still hard cock is pressed against the pillar of futa meat that stands between you as she kisses you, deeper and deeper, her thick, dexterous, domineering tongue claiming your mouth and cleansing itself of her seed with your mouth. Thoughts fade away and you lose yourself in that moment, humping her cock through your shorts and kissing her back, as best you could...

A moment later she pulled your head back, and smiled. The drink was waiting on the bar for her, but when she tried to stand up, she actually slid back down, though whether it was due to weak legs, or the very slippery floor we had just made, you couldn't tell. You grabbed the large glass of rehydrating fluid and passed it to her and slowly started to clean the floor around the pair of you. A moment later another few towels were provided.

She watched you clean, eyes unreadable, but cock still hard, still pressed firmly between her breasts...she sipped the drink slowly, then gulped quite a bit as the amount of fluid she had lost occurred to her. Her massive balls produced absurd load, which left her dehydrated despite her minimal physical activity.

You weren't sure what you were thinking, there were a few obvious ways this could go. The most likely was that she'd prove that she'd always been in control by...taking control. That could be a lot of fun, or it could be actively dangerous. You didn't intend to go to any private play room with her at this point. The other obvious way would be to submit...few futas did, especially to men, but if it had really been a decade since she came, anything was possible. The question was, should you wait for her to decide, or try to influence her?