Black Beauty: My Insatiable Futa Lover

By Veronica Sloan

Amy's never kissed a girl before, she's never been taken laughing through the streets on a mad adventure, ridden a mechanical bull, or had ruby lips drink tequila from her bellybutton. Tonight, she'll experience all of that and more. Black, wild, and beautiful, Nia is everything that Amy is not. Literally! The girl with the caramel skin is an insatiable futanari, and she wants Amy bad. She'll give the shy girl a night she'll never forget, including a ride on the black beauty she keeps tucked inside her jeans!

This erotic futa tale is 13,000 words and recommended for adult readers.

~~~Excerpt~~~

The stairway to Nia's apartment was sandwiched between a shuttered drug store and a vitamin shop. The dirty steps were barely lit by a fluttering bulb and too recessed from the sidewalk to benefit from the shine of the streetlamps. Any other night, Amy would have speedwalked past the place with a thumping heart. Tonight, her thumping heart savored the dim alcove. She found herself standing on the first step, her back to the bannister. The wall behind her was plastered in old concert ads and graffiti, the stucco soaked by the capricious rain. "I need to catch my breath," she said.

Nia stood below her on the pavement, looking up at her like a panther about to pounce. "Where is it?" she whispered. "I'll help you find it." Slowly, her boot slid over Amy's step.

Giggling, Amy retreated backwards, further into the alcove, onto the second step and one step closer to the door. "I...I don't like girls, you know."

"No?" Nia said. She took another step, and Amy retreated higher.

"No," Amy breathed. She could not tear her gaze from the chocolate freckles on her cheeks.

"So what do you want me to do?" Nia asked. She raised her caramel hand, and Amy laced her white fingers through it. Together, they ascended another step.

"I want..."

"Tell me," Nia begged her.

"I want you to do what you want to do," Amy said.

Slowly, knowingly, Nia shook her head. They stepped up another step. "No," she said. "You know exactly what I want to do. I want you to tell me what you're doing here."

Amy pulled Nia up onto the last step with her. There was nothing left but the landing to Nia's apartment, the door, and the fluttering bulb above their heads. She leaned against the wall and Nia loomed over her--not so much taller but so very, very close. She filled Amy's vision: lustrous black hair and grinning, ruby lips, kind eyes and a strong, round nose. She brushed Amy's cheek with the back of her hand. "Are you drunk?"

"I don't think so," Amy said quietly. "I danced it all out of my pores."

"You're sweaty," Nia said. Her voice dripped with excitement.

"Yes," Amy breathed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Veronica Sloan
• Release date: Aug 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005410124

Veronica Sloan

Veronica Sloan writes dirty stories and naughty romances. Her erotica is explicit and steamy, and no topic is too taboo. A Chicago girl at heart, Veronica graduated from the Columbia School of Journalism with every intention of writing very important things about very important people. Currently, she spends her days writing about pop culture and her nights writing about lusty men and women and their naughty predilections. She loves big dogs, hot yoga and songs that are stupidly catchy. Visit her at https://www.veronica-sloan-erotica.com/home/.

Book preview

Black Beauty: My Insatiable Futa Lover

© Copyright 2018, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved

NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are over the age of 18. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Cover designed by Veronica Sloan. Cover Photo © Voyagerix / javiindy.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Letter

Amy's cheeks burned as she read the letter. She knew she should wait to read it. That's what a sane person would do, what any practical person would do--especially one that knew what the letter had to contain--but Amy wasn't sane at the moment.

It was a new experience for her. Most of her life had been sane, until Nia. Brown eyes and browner skin, lips like a chocolate rose, a laugh that echoed across the hot edges of her skull and filled the air like music, the woman was madness incarnate. Her body literally defied nature. She was more feminine than any female Amy knew, but she was also more...

And more devious. Nia knew Amy would read the letter as soon as she could. She walked right into the diner in the middle of her shift and dropped it on the table. Amy wanted to hate her for that.

Wanted to. Couldn't.

Instead, Amy abruptly told Scott that she was going on her break. She slid the coffeepot over the counter and dashed into the bathroom before he gave her the okay. She locked the door behind her, threw herself into the nearest stall, and pulled the envelope from her apron. One word was written on its face in jagged cursive: You.

Amy tore the envelope and unfolded the letter as swiftly as her trembling fingers allowed. She felt like an old woman, or a junkie in withdrawal. Every movement was deliberate and awkward and painfully, painfully slow. She almost dropped the letter into the toilet--and grabbed it so hard that her nail tore a hole in its center.

One deep breath. Two deep breaths. She couldn't stop shaking but she tried again, slower this time, to read the jagged cursive between the creases. Here were the words that made her cheeks burn and her thighs ache. Memories of firm fingertips on skin, hot breath in her ear. You, the letter read, are writhing in my mind.

Amy covered her mouth to stifle her moan. This was absurd. It was just a letter! But she heard Nia's voice. She heard it so clear in her mind, dulcet and dark. Her eyes devoured the rest of the letter and that dark voice whispered to her till the end:

You...

are writhing in my mind. You are tangled in my sheets. Your perfume lingers in my pillow where you tossed your head and screamed crazy. And I think it's gone until I shift in my sleep, and up billows you.

You. You. You.

You are begging me not to hurt you. You are screaming to be tortured. You are touching me, and grabbing me, and telling me you don't like girls.

You do like girls.

Amy bit her thumb and pushed her forehead against the cool wall. It was absurd how wet she was. It was unfair that these simple words could make her feel so naked. Her thighs trembled and the memories of rough fingers and softer kisses erupted across her skin. There were more words but she couldn't read them without touching herself. She needed to put the letter