Emma's Condition!

Emma looked down at the woman, a small, smug smile playing on her lips. The woman was breathtaking—classic beauty, polished to a mirror shine, with a level of sophistication that usually intimidated people.

But Emma wasn't most people. She could see the desperation in the woman’s eyes, a hunger that had nothing to do with the gourmet appetizers or the expensive champagne. The woman wanted the monster hiding in Emma's dress.

"You're very direct," Emma said, her voice smooth and teasing. "I like that. But I have to be honest with you... I'm actually enjoying myself right now. There are so many 'important' men in this room, and I can feel them practically vibrating with nerves just by looking at me. I think I want to spend a bit more time playing with their heads before I decide where my night ends."

The woman’s expression shifted from hunger to a focused, intense longing. She stepped even closer, her breasts almost brushing against Emma’s arm.

"My name is Lydia," she whispered, her breath warm against Emma's ear. "And believe me, Emma, the men in this room are nothing but suits and titles. They are boring. They are predictable. But you... you are something entirely different. I can see the way that thing is straining against your fabric. I can see the weight of it. I don't want to wait. I don't want to share you with a crowd of staring nobodies."

Lydia’s hand drifted down, her fingers hovering just an inch away from the massive bulge. She didn't touch it—not yet—but the anticipation was palpable. "Please. My husband is currently occupied with a senator in the other room. We have a house that is practically a fortress of privacy. No one will interrupt us. I want to feel every inch of you. I want to know if you're as powerful as you look."

Emma felt her cock twitch violently in response to Lydia's voice. The sheer audacity of this high-society woman, begging for a futanari's touch, was an aphrodisiac. Emma loved the power shift. In the eyes of the world, Lydia was the queen of the social scene, but right here, in the shadow of the ballroom, she was just another craving slut.

However, Emma wasn't in the habit of giving things away for free—not emotionally, and certainly not physically. She enjoyed the chase, and she enjoyed the negotiation. She leaned back slightly, creating a gap between them, making Lydia lean in further to maintain the connection.

"You're very adamant, Lydia. I admire that," Emma murmured. "But there's a problem. A very big problem."

Lydia frowned, her eyes flicking down to the bulge again. "What problem?"

Emma let out a soft, dark chuckle. She reached down and gripped herself through the thin fabric of her dress, squeezing the thick shaft of her 16-inch cock. The fabric groaned under the pressure, and the sheer mass of her member became even more apparent, stretching the dress to its absolute limit.

"Look at this," Emma commanded, her voice dropping an octave. "I'm not some average guy, and I'm certainly not a 'normal' woman. I am something more. I am massive. I am a force of nature. You look elegant, Lydia, but you look... delicate. I've seen women like you before. You think you want the biggest thing possible until it's actually trying to split you in half."

Lydia swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. She didn't look away; if anything, she looked more aroused. "I can handle it," she breathed.

"I doubt that," Emma countered with a smirk. "If I just walk into your house and let you have your way with me, I'll probably break you in five minutes. You're a beautiful woman, but you're alone in this. One person isn't enough to handle the sheer volume of what I'm packing. I don't want to spend the whole night hearing you scream in pain because you're too small for me."

Lydia gasped, the idea of being "too small" clearly hitting a nerve of submission within her. The thought of being overwhelmed by Emma's size seemed to excite her more than the act itself.

Emma leaned in, her lips almost touching Lydia's. "I'll tell you what. I'll come with you. I'll give you exactly what you're begging for. But on one condition."

"Anything," Lydia whispered.

"You find me another partner," Emma stated firmly. "Someone else. Another woman, a friend, a secret lover—I don't care who. But I want a second person there to help you. Someone to take the overflow, someone to help hold you open, or someone to take turns with you so you don't pass out from the intensity. I refuse to go to your house unless there is a second hole available for me to ruin. I need a team to handle a cock of this magnitude."

Lydia's eyes widened. The idea of bringing someone else into the bedroom was scandalous, even for her. But as she looked back down at the monstrous bulge swaying beneath Emma's dress, the scandal felt irrelevant. The need to be filled by that massive shaft outweighed any sense of propriety.

"I... I know someone," Lydia stammered, her mind racing. "My closest friend, Sarah. She's here tonight. She's... she's always been curious about things like this. She's adventurous. She would jump at the chance."

Emma smiled, a predatory, triumphant look. She had just turned a simple invitation into a gang-bang scenario where she was the undisputed center of attention. She liked the idea of two high-society women fighting for her attention, struggling to accommodate her size.

"Then go find Sarah," Emma commanded, stepping back and crossing her arms, her bulge still prominently displayed. "Bring her over here. Tell her that there is a woman with a sixteen-inch cock who is willing to visit your home, provided she is ready to be used. If she agrees, and if you can both handle the consequences, then I'll follow you out of here."

Lydia didn't hesitate. She turned on her heel, her dress swirling around her, and hurried back into the crowd with a look of frantic excitement.

Emma stood there, watching her go, feeling the heavy throb of her cock against her thigh. She looked around the room at the remaining "important" men, giving them a wink and a slow, deliberate stroke of her bulge.

She had the politicians, the billionaires, and now, she was about to have the wives. The patriarchy wasn't just falling; Emma was personally tearing it down, one orgasm at a time.

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