I just can’t help myself. I’ve published yet another book, Futa Road Trip Bundle. A bundling of the three-book series, this follows the futa Rose as she decides her life is empty and attempts to reach out to others.
Blurb
This tells the story of Rose, a successful futa who loses her job through a merger. Immediately rehired across the country, she sets out on a voyage to re-evaluate her lonely life. In Chicago, she meets a beautiful young black woman shows her some sights and opens her eyes. She joins the trip. At a stopover in Omaha, one of them gets a little tied up. In a good way.
This is a 20,000-word book about a futa about loneliness and determination and contains public sex, handjobs, blowjobs, oral and interracial sex, riding, voyeurism, shibari.
Excerpt
Personal Growth
He returned to his cruiser. When he closed his door Rose followed him, making sure to work her walk from her car to his cruiser extra sexy. His eyes followed every sway. And there was a lot to sway. He was startled when she climbed into the passenger seat.
“You cannot be in here, ma’am,” he said.
“I just want to see if there’s any way we can work this out.” While he stared at her face – discomfort washing across his own – Rose made a point to stare at the growing bulge in his pants. He appeared to have a sizable python of his own.
Rose leaned back against the door and faced him. Her left leg was on the seat and the other on the floor, crotch pushed against the stretchy material. A damp spot grew where her piss slit lay. The cruiser flooded with pheromones.
Rose saw a night stick in a slot by his hand. She leaned over to grab it, pushing her large breasts on his forearm as she did. The nipples dug into his arm. With stick in hand she leaned back against the door, stared him in the eyes and brought the blunt end to her mouth. Her tongue slid across the hard black plastic. She opened her mouth wide to slid the blunt end along the flat of her tongue. It had no discernible flavor, but she moaned as if it was the most delicious thing ever. He closed his eyes for a few seconds.
She pulled her shorts leg to one side, exposing her dripping cunt. The pungent smell of excited pussy flooded the car. Rose laid the baton at her entrance and eased it against her puffy labia. A gush of honey coated the stick.
The sound of a zipper made her lower her eyes. The cop pulled out his erect member. The shaft was thin but had an enormous apple-sized glans. His hand stroked the length slowly while focused on his nightstick sinking into her greedy gash. Rose’s forearms tensed from her grip.
Chicago Shenanigans
The chairs in the Adler Planetarium laid back comfortably so they could stare up at the projected stars. Looking around they could see they were alone. Not surprising. It’s the middle of the week. Tourists were nowhere to be found at this time. Rose had to taste those lips. She went in as soon as they were stretched out. Her lips pressed against the fullness. Dusty groaned as her tongue ran along Rose’s. They tasted as good as they looked. She nibbled lightly, drawing more moans.
The lights went off plunging them into total darkness. A stentorian voice began to drone, describing the creation of the universe. Rose only cared about the creation of the love affair in front of her. She lightly ran her hand along Dusty’s thin arm, testing the strength just under the skin. The muscles trembled at her touch.
Rose’s palm ran off the arm onto Dusty’s leg. It was stretched out. Her palm felt the muscular leg under the white jeans material. It was a runner’s leg. A leg meant to be wrapped around a lover’s head.
Dusty didn’t remain placid. She reached for Rose’s tits, feeling their heaviness. A hard nipple pressed into her palm while she squeezed the dense globe. It was Rose’s turn to moan at the attention. Her nubs were sensitive. They reacted by growing longer and leaking a small amount of milk. She had been teased all day. The constant attention her ass had taken while strolling around the museum, the hand-holding, the touching of hips, lips… she was rapidly reaching a point where she didn’t care where or how, she needed to fuck someone.
Omaha Bound
The two walked carefully down the wide stairs that was the entry to La Club. It appeared to be in the basement of the building over the top of it… a hotel. Isn’t that convenient, Rose thought. They stood just inside the door, eyes adjusting to the cacophony of activity in the dimness.
Dusty wore a crossover bright blue tulip dress that hugged her body. Her chest, thanks to the miracle of tape, displayed some cleavage. The short skirt showed off her legs. Rose was in a sea-green sequined dress that caught what little light radiated around the room. Candles stuck in numerous sconces, certain to be fake, produced faint illumination. Faint lighting can be our friend, she thought. Her futa body stretched the material of the dress to its limit. The hem was too short to successfully hide her penis which dangled between her muscular thighs. The breasts, fully covered, pushed proudly before her like the prow of a seagoing vessel.
They could feel eyes on them. Many eyes of both sexes. Dusty wrapped an arm around Rose, eyes roaming the room taking in everything and everyone. Talk that had stopped on entry of the two lovelies began again. This time they were being talked about. And why not. They were a stunning duo.
Rose led them toward the back. Along the way were several hallways that shuttled into other parts of the club. A wide variety of body types were on display. Everywhere she looked had writhing, sweaty bodies, clothed and unclothed. The small rooms appeared to be specialized: chains, whips, odd-looking chairs; huge mattress; saddles with bridles. A large room was stuffed with squirming men and women in various configurations. Some she couldn’t fathom right away, but before she could interpret what she was seeing another movement would catch her eye.
A couple of lovely young women took Dusty by the hand and pulled her in one direction, while a giant stud of a man whisked Rose in the other. He led her to a large room – probably the main room – where couples were scattered about randomly. The men stood, staring down at their kneeling companion eagerly sucking swollen cocks. Sweat poured down their chests. The women fisted the jutting members while another woman knelt behind the male, pinching and rubbing flat asses.
This series was a lot of fun to write. It mirrored my cross-country trip and got to mentally revisit some spots I hit along the way. Check it out on Amazon at Futa Road Trip Bundle.
I have done a lot of soul-searching the last couple of days. I just can’t go on, I can’t do it. I believe my priest has poisoned others against me. I have started to notice other parishioners giving me the old side-eye, people I have known and worked with for years now. I’ve led committees, been a… never mind. It doesn’t matter. Church has become a toxic atmosphere and is doing absolutely no good for my soul. I quit. I told Father today I was leaving the church and walked away.
I had to take a long drive this morning, just to clear my mind and find peace. As usual, I attended morning Mass… in fact, I was the lector (read the scriptures aloud minus the Gospel).
Real Life: My breasts are thickening nicely. And my nipples appreciate V’s attention. Ahh, life is good with hormones! I tend to giggle or tear up at the drop of a hat. Regardless, I certainly wish I had started decades sooner. But better late than never.
Second Life provides the opportunity for activities I haven’t done in years. A couple of days ago it was sailing with a new friend. We met as I was doing my favorite activity… shopping! She taught me about sandboxes. The next day we got together again to sail. I had a wonderful time with the wind blowing through my hair. Unfortunately, I hadn’t shopped for a bikini so I went au naturel… the wind blew through everything! (I’m the brunette.)
It’s been an exciting time around the Belucci household. I managed to get through several masses now without getting pissed at my priest. I haven’t feared about being outed by him. After the annoying and offensive homily where he couldn’t look me in the face, we’ve had a couple of meetings about an upcoming event I’m heading. Quiet, friendly meetings.
I did it again. I just can’t help myself. My futa Elena has fallen in love and, despite warnings, her lover Joy couldn’t care less about the inherent dangers involved in such a romance. 
Isabella Belucci 