The rain pattered against the window of my small apartment, a steady rhythm that matched the heaviness in the air. Tommie sat on the edge of my couch, her shoulders slumped, knees drawn up as if trying to make herself smaller.
It had been weeks since her boyfriend walked out, calling her a freak because of what she was—a futanari with a body that didn't fit his narrow ideas. I'd been there every night since, holding her through the sobs, whispering that she deserved better.
But tonight, as she leaned into me, her soft curves pressing against my side, I felt the familiar ache in my chest. I loved her, more than as a friend, and seeing her like this twisted something deep inside me.
I shifted closer, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her trembling body tight against mine. Her skin was warm through the thin fabric of her tank top, and I could feel the subtle quiver in her frame, like she was holding back a storm.
'Tommie,' I murmured, my voice low and steady, 'you're safe here. Always.' She nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, glistening with unshed tears.
She took a shaky breath, her hand clutching at my shirt. 'It hurts so much,' she whispered, her voice breaking. 'He made me feel like... like I'm broken. I try to move on, like you keep saying, but every time I close my eyes, it's his words echoing.'
Beneath her sad words, there was something else—a leak of desire, raw and unspoken. I could sense it in the way her body shifted, her thighs pressing together, the faint bulge stirring under her shorts.
Her futanari nature, that part of her she'd always been shy about, now seemed to pulse with the pain she carried, begging for release.
My hand moved slowly, tracing the curve of her arm, then down to her waist. Her skin was so soft, yielding under my fingers as I stroked gently, feeling the tension ease just a fraction.
'You're not broken,' I said firmly, my thumb brushing the hem of her top. 'You're beautiful, Tommie. Every part of you.' I let my touch drift lower, over the fabric of her shorts, where her cock ached, hardening slightly at the contact.
I teased it with light pressure, my dominance gentle but insistent, drawing a soft gasp from her lips. The outline of her shaft grew firmer under my palm, and I felt a thrill run through me—finally, a chance to show her what she meant to me.
Tommie shivered, her body arching subtly into my hand. She didn't pull away; instead, her eyes flicked up to mine, wide and vulnerable, begging silently for more.
The air between us thickened, charged with the years of friendship now tipping into something deeper. Her breath hitched as I cupped her through the shorts, feeling the heat radiating from her cock, the way it twitched eagerly.
'Please,' she murmured, almost too quiet to hear, her submissive nature shining through in the plea. She craved this—more than just words of comfort, she needed to feel wanted, to surrender to someone who saw all of her.
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. 'I've got you,' I promised, my voice a low rumble. 'I'll protect your heart, Tommie. No one will hurt you like that again.'
As I spoke, I slipped my hand under the waistband of her shorts, fingers wrapping around her aching cock. It was thick and warm in my grip, the skin smooth and veined, already leaking a bead of precum that slicked my palm.
I stroked slowly, base to tip, watching her face contort with a mix of relief and building pleasure. Her hips bucked faintly, chasing the sensation, and I tightened my hold just enough to remind her who was in control.
She moaned softly, her head falling back against the couch, exposing the line of her throat. I kissed it, tasting the salt of her skin, while my other hand roamed up her top, cupping one of her full breasts.
Her nipple hardened under my thumb, and she whimpered, her body trembling harder now. 'I... I don't deserve this,' she gasped, but her cock throbbed in my hand, betraying how much she wanted it—wanted me to take her, to fill the void her ex had left.
'Yes, you do,' I replied, my strokes growing firmer, twisting at the head to draw out more of that slick precum. The scent of her arousal filled the space between us, musky and intoxicating, mixing with the rain outside.
I could feel my own desire building, my pants tightening, but this was about her—about claiming her submission inch by inch. Her free hand gripped my thigh, nails digging in as she fought to stay still, letting me lead.
Tommie's eyes fluttered shut, her breaths coming in short pants. 'More,' she begged, her voice a whisper laced with need. I obliged, pushing her shorts down just enough to free her cock fully, watching it spring up, flushed and eager.
My mouth watered at the sight, but I held back, savoring the way she submitted to my touch, her body opening to me like a flower in the sun. The emotional weight of it all—our friendship, my hidden love—wove through every stroke, every gasp, making this moment feel inevitable.
I leaned down, my breath ghosting over her tip, tasting the salt on my tongue as I flicked it lightly. She cried out, her whole body shuddering, and I knew we were just beginning.
Her heart, her body—they were mine to cherish, to dominate with care, and as the night stretched on, I intended to show her exactly how deep my feelings ran.
Tommie's cry echoed softly in the room, her body arching off the couch as my tongue teased the sensitive head of her cock. The taste of her precum lingered on my lips, salty and sweet, fueling the fire in my veins.
But I didn't push further—not yet. Instead, I pulled back slightly, my hand still wrapped around her shaft, stroking with slow, deliberate pulls that kept her on the edge without overwhelming her. Her eyes met mine, hazy with a mix of lust and lingering pain, and I saw the vulnerability there, the trust she'd placed in me over years of friendship.
I took her hands in mine, guiding them gently up my chest, over the firm planes of my pecs beneath my shirt. Her fingers trembled against my skin, hesitant at first, but I whispered reassurances to ease her.
'It's okay, Tommie. Feel me. I'm here for you, all of me.' My voice was low, steady, like an anchor in her storm. She let out a shaky breath, her palms pressing flat as I moved them lower, tracing the ridges of my abs. The contact sent sparks through me, my own arousal straining against my pants, but I focused on her—on building this connection brick by brick.
Her touch deepened as I encouraged it, her fingers exploring with more confidence, slipping under my shirt to feel the warmth of my bare skin. I mirrored her, my free hand sliding up her thigh, then back to her cock, exploring it with care.
It throbbed in my grip, hot and rigid, the veins pulsing under my fingers as I ran them from base to tip, smearing the slick precum along the length. 'You're so responsive,' I murmured, my thumb circling the slit, drawing another soft moan from her. Her hips shifted, seeking more friction, and I felt her submission yielding to me, her body opening like a secret she'd kept too long.
I tightened my hold on her shaft, not harshly, but with a gentle dominance that asserted my control. My strokes grew firmer, twisting just enough to make her gasp, her eyes locking onto mine as I watched every reaction—the way her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, her breasts rising and falling with quick breaths.
'Let me take care of you,' I said, leaning in to kiss her neck, nipping lightly at the skin. She whimpered, her hands clutching at my chest now, nails scraping as pleasure built. The scent of her arousal hung heavy, mixing with the faint vanilla of her shampoo, and I could feel my heart pounding, my unrequited love spilling into every touch.
This was more than comfort; it was me claiming the space her ex had vacated, showing her she was desired, whole.
But then, suddenly, Tommie broke eye contact, her gaze dropping to her lap where my hand still worked her cock. Her body tensed under me, the tremors shifting from desire to something else—uncertainty, fear.
'I... I'm sorry,' she whispered, her voice shaking as she pulled her hands away from my chest, folding them in her lap. The words hit me like a cold splash, halting my strokes mid-motion. Her cock twitched in my palm, still hard and leaking, but she shrank back, tears welling in her eyes again.
'Tommie?' I said softly, releasing her immediately, my hand withdrawing to rest on her thigh instead. Concern flooded me, overriding the ache in my own body. She shook her head, biting her lip, her submissive posture curling inward like she wanted to disappear.
'I can't,' she admitted, her voice barely above a breath. 'Not yet. This feels... it feels good, but I'm not ready for more. I don't want to ruin us, or... or drag you into my mess.' Her eyes flicked up briefly, filled with apology and that deep-seated pain from the breakup, the one that made her doubt her worth.
Her futanari body, so beautiful to me, seemed to weigh on her now, the bulge in her shorts a reminder of what had broken her before.
I pulled back patiently, shifting to give her space while keeping my arm loosely around her shoulders. 'Hey, no apologies,' I replied gently, my tone reassuring as I brushed a strand of hair from her face.
'We go at your pace, always. I'm not going anywhere.' Inside, my chest tightened—my feelings for her burned brighter than ever, but I wouldn't push. This friendship, this budding something more, deserved time to heal her wounds first. I pulled her into a simple embrace, her head resting on my shoulder, and we sat like that as the rain continued outside, the tension easing into quiet comfort.
Her breathing slowed against me, and though my body still hummed with unmet need, holding her like this felt right—patient, protective, waiting for when she'd be ready to let me in fully.
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