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Futa Divorce Lawyer Collection

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by Reed James




  Futa Divorce Lawyer Collection

  (Three stories of the Aphrodite Sisterhood Universe)

  by

  Reed James

  Copyright © 2018 by Reed James

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published in the United States of America, 2018

  All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).

  Cover Photo © nelka7812 | guwu | Depositphotos.com

  Logo © Anton Brand | Dreamstime.com

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  Table of Contents

  Futa Divorce Lawyer Collection

  Naughty Excerpt from “Futa Divorce Lawyer Collection”

  Stories of the Aphrodite Sisterhood Universe

  Hot Wife Spurned

  Hot Wife Spurned

  Legal Futa Dictation

  Legal Futa Dictation

  The Cuckold's Negotiations

  The Cuckold's Negotiation

  Naughty Excerpt from “Futa Divorce Lawyer Collection”

  Smart. I never would have thought about lying about having other clients. No one wanted to hire a lawyer no one else trusted. If I could give Meaghan a raise, I would. Instead, I would have to fuck her hard.

  I knelt down, my fingernails scratching down her butt-cheeks to her pussy's folds. She was trimmed beneath, her hairs and aroused vulva forming a mound against the nylons. Her juices soaked through, the sweet musk filling my nose. I ran a single nail down through her groove, bringing a shuddering moan to her lips.

  “Yes, yes, whenever you can make it will be wonderful, Mrs. Woodward. Uh-huh. Miss Lehrner is an excellent lawyer. She can make sure you get what's yours in the divorce.”

  My fingernails scraped at the nylon covering her pussy. They snagged, a run appearing, the fabric parting, exposing the pink flesh of her pussy. I scratched again, fraying the nylons worse, my thighs clamped together as my cunt flooded my panties.

  The nylon tore. Her pussy exposed.

  “Yes, yes,” Meaghan groaned as my tongue slid through her folds, caressing and teasing her pink flesh. “She'll make sure your husband pays.” Meaghan moaned again and turned it into a laugh as I gathered more of her juices, my tongue lapping through her slit.

  Her breathy excitement made my dick ache. I needed to eat her pussy out every time she was on the phone. It was so hot hearing her fight against her passions while I probed the hot flesh of her cunt with my naughty tongue.

  To find out what happens next, read on!

  Stories of the Aphrodite Sisterhood Universe

  Gender Swaps' Futa Support Group Collection

  JoBeth's Futa Adventure Collection

  Futa's Naughty Spa Date Collection

  Gender-Swap Futa Transformation Collection

  Futa's Hot Spring Surprise Collection

  Futa's Gender-Swap Bridal Shop Collection

  Coed's Futa Discovery Collection

  Wicked Futa Honeymoon Collection

  Futa’s Fertile Easter Delight Collection

  Hot Wife Spurned

  Futa Divorce Lawyer 1

  (A story of the Aphrodite Sisterhood Universe)

  by

  Reed James

  Hot Wife Spurned

  I tossed my purse onto the passenger seat of my Mercedes S-Class sedan. My baby. I loved her. I sank into the Corinthian leather seat and started the car with a push of a button. The engine hummed to life. I shivered; the cold, New York winter pressing into the parking garage of my apartment building.

  I probably had to move out at the end of the month. I couldn't afford the rent any longer. Worse, I would have to sell my baby. I stroked the steering wheel, savoring heat from the seat warmers bleeding through my clothing, banishing the chill.

  I didn't want to give up my baby.

  Why had I quit my job? Why did I think it was a good idea to found my own law firm? It was a stupid decision. I was on track to become a senior partner. I had a six figure income, with plenty of perks, my time occupied by the thrill of discovering new ways to help my clients all while billing them the thousands of dollars my firm desired.

  And I gave it all away because of my stupid futa-cock.

  Well, it wasn't stupid. In fact, I loved having a clit that could transform into a dick. I loved being a member of the Aphrodite Sisterhood. I even loved my job at Franklin, Ulysses, and Taylor. But I didn't love all the men there.

  Becoming a futa had changed me. It drove a wedge between me and men. I couldn't stand being around them. They were so brutish and vile. Everything about them that used to make me wet—confidence, arrogance, deeply muscled chests, rippling abs, piercing gazes, chiseled chins—now repulsed me.

  It was women that attracted my gaze. Soft, curvy, feminine women. But most women didn't thrive in the competitive environment of a powerful law firm. Those that did were all like me: devoted to their jobs, bitchy, snappy, WASPish.

  Cunts.

  Like I had been.

  In fact, being a cunt was how I ended up with a futa-dick. I had to pop into the dry cleaner when Lillian, the president of the all-futa biker gang the Aphrodite Devils, spat on the trunk of my baby. I didn't care she was a biker. I was furious. I stalked up to her, demanding an apology, threatening to sue her.

  Instead, she dominated me, fucked me with her futa-cock, and took me to her bar where I was gangbanged.

  It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

  Afterward, I became a futa. I had to let the bikers use me a few more times, not that I complained, and then they summoned Aphrodite and I swallowed her divine seed. The transformation gripped my body, my dick sprouted, and I was a futa.

  Just thinking about it made my clit swell an inch, pressing against my panties.

  And then it faded as the realty crashed back into me. My law firm was not successful. After being open a month I hadn't had a single client. I put out ads, I spent my precious money on billboards, signs on the subway, commercials on the radio, anything I could think of.

  And nothing.

  If things didn't change, I would go bankrupt in a year. And that was only after I sold my baby and moved into my law office. I could put a small bed in my office. It wasn't ideal, but I didn't want to have to crawl back to my old law firm and grovel before those men.

  I backed out of my parking space and drove out of the parking garage onto the blustery streets of Manhattan. The artificial light of streetlamps painted the snow gathered against the side of buildings in stark relief. Pedestrians on the sidewalks hurried, their breath steaming the air as they hailed taxis, waited for buses, or dived into the subway tunnels.

  My drive took me out to Queens. I couldn't even afford premises in Manhattan. Real estate was so expensive in the city. The horizon lightened as I parked on the side of the road, my permit on my dashboard to prevent me getting a ticket. Though I wouldn't mind. Least I could go to court and argue to get it dismissed. It would be something to do.

  I sighed and stepped out into the cold wind howling down the street. It kni
fed through my jacket. My poor legs froze. I wore a tight pencil skirt that fell to my mid-thigh. Only black nylons covered my calves and lower thighs.

  My legs may as well be naked for all the protection nylons gave.

  I rushed to my business, the wooden sign swinging above the door: Futa Law. I wanted to be a bastion for women in need to see me, but none of them came. My heels clicked as I rushed up the icy steps. I needed to berate the landlord. He had to spread deicer on the steps. It was such a safety hazard.

  The door was unlocked. My paralegal, Meaghan, had already arrived. She always beat me into work by fifteen or so minutes. The heaters warmed the office. I swept through the reception area, past Meaghan's desk, and into my office. My firm didn't occupy a large space. It had a small conference room, my office, a bathroom, store room, a small break room, and an empty office that might become my bedroom.

  “Hi, Priscilla,” Meaghan smiled when she greeted me, a cup of coffee in hand.

  Meaghan was the only bright spot of my law firm. My paralegal worked for next to nothing. Her wedding ring flashed as she handed me the mug of steaming coffee. I took it and took a long, deep sip, the rich flavor washing through my mouth and then down into my belly.

  I let out a sigh. Only cumming with my futa-cock was better than coffee.

  “Let me take your coat,” Meaghan smiled. She was a petite, raven-haired, young woman. She married at nineteen and came from a religious background. For the last month she had been my lover as well as my employee. Transforming the timid girl into a moaning, married slut had helped passed the tedium as we waited for clients.

  I slipped out of my beige trench coat and she took it, hanging it on a hook. A whiff of her perfume caught my nose and her blouse was new, the neckline lower than her earlier dresses. She had changed, her makeup now made her face sultry instead of plain, her skirts shorter. She dressed to please me.

  I wonder what her husband thought of the changes.

  “Did we get any messages?” I asked, hoping a potential client called and left a message.

  “No,” Meaghan sighed and then, like every morning, she said, “But they will. Don't worry, Priscilla.”

  That was easy for her to say.

  I took another sip of my coffee and tried to think of new ways to get the word out about my business. Maybe I should call Lillian. See if she knew any other futas in New York. There had to be others. Someone made Lillian into a futa.

  The phone rang.

  My heart sped up like it did every time. I told myself to calm down. It will be a bill collector or a wrong number or another salesmen trying to get me to sign up to their company's business phone and internet plan.

  Meaghan hurried out of the room, her heels clicking, her delicious rump swaying in the tight, charcoal-gray skirt she wore. Descending from her skit were her long, gorgeous legs clad in dark-brown nylons. Her legs were her best feature. Curving calves and sleek thighs drawing your eyes from her dainty feet to her slim hips.

  I followed after her like a siren, my clit throbbing. She reached her desk, leaning across it to grab the phone. Her skirt pressed tight against her rump. No panty line was visible. She didn't wear any at work. I liked her pussy to be available.

  My clit sprouted, tenting my panties. I groaned as the swelling shaft was forced up by the confining undergarment. The tip of my sprouting cock popped out of the waistband, throbbing against my belly. I moved to my paralegal, letting out a purring sigh as my hands slid up my skirt, exposing the tops of my thigh-high nylons followed by my cock.

  “Futa Law, this is Meaghan speaking, how may I help you today?” Her voice was so sweet, an angel's dulcets.

  I grabbed her ass, squeezing her slim curves. I pulled up her skirt as she shook her hips and flashed a smoky look over her shoulder. Her nylons covered her ass, her cheeks bleeding through the dark-brown material.

  I loved a woman wearing nylons. They were so fun to rip open. I kept having to buy Meaghan new ones. Good thing they were cheap.

  “We absolutely can help you with that,” Meaghan said.

  My heart sped up as my fingers ran across the nylon cladding her ass. I savored the sound my fingernails made as my ears pricked. Did we finally have a client? My pussy clenched and my dick throbbed. I scraped my white-painted, French-press nails across her ass again, bringing a shudder from Meaghan.

  “Yes, you can come in when you like. We're very informal here. Just not around noon. And we do have another client meeting at 2 PM, but any other time would work.” Meaghan laughed. “Monday's are our slow days.”

  Smart. I never would have thought about lying about having other clients. No one wanted to hire a lawyer no one else trusted. If I could give Meaghan a raise, I would. Instead, I would have to fuck her hard.

  I knelt down, my fingernails scratching down her butt-cheeks to her pussy's folds. She was trimmed beneath, her hairs and aroused vulva forming a mound against the nylons. Her juices soaked through, the sweet musk filling my nose. I ran a single nail down through her groove, bringing a shuddering moan to her lips.

  “Yes, yes, whenever you can make it will be wonderful, Mrs. Woodward. Uh-huh. Miss Lehrner is an excellent lawyer. She can make sure you get what's yours in the divorce.”

  My fingernails scraped at the nylon covering her pussy. They snagged, a run appearing, the fabric parting, exposing the pink flesh of her pussy. I scratched again, fraying the nylons worse, my thighs clamped together as my cunt flooded my panties.

  The nylon tore. Her pussy exposed.

  “Yes, yes,” Meaghan groaned as my tongue slid through her folds, caressing and teasing her pink flesh. “She'll make sure your husband pays.” Meaghan moaned again and turned it into a laugh as I gathered more of her juices, my tongue lapping through her slit.

  Her breathy excitement made my dick ache. I needed to eat her pussy out every time she was on the phone. It was so hot hearing her fight against her passions while I probed the hot flesh of her cunt with my naughty tongue.

  Next time her husband called, I had to be ready. That would be so wicked. I could make her cum.

  My right hand pushed my panties down, my dick flopping out. I stroked it as I licked again through Meaghan's sweet snatch. My dick throbbed in my hand and pleasure radiated from the tip to my dripping pussy. I moaned into her cunt, burying my tongue into her depths.

  “I can't wait to meet you!” gasped Meaghan, fighting hard against her excitement. “Uh-huh. You have a wonderful day, Mrs. Woodward. Bye.”

  Meaghan fumbled to set the receiver onto the cradle, then she gasped, “Priscilla, that was a client. Oh, god, you can't... not when I'm on the... phone.”

  “But it made you so wet,” I purred, my lips stained with her juices. “So we really have a client?”

  “Yes,” she gasped, leaning over the desk and writhing her hips. “Ooh, it was so exciting. You've made me into such a slut.”

  My free hand smacked her nylon-clad ass. My fingers clenched, fingernails scraping across the nylons. Fabric tore and then I brushed her bare ass. She groaned and squirmed as my fingernails teased her while my tongue loved her.

  I ripped open her nylons further, savoring the shearing of ripping pantyhose, my dick aching in my stroking hand. I licked her faster and faster, sliding up and down through her folds. Her juices coated my lips and dripped down my chin.

  She always grew so wet.

  The desk creaked as she shifted. Her moans echoed through the office. I loved eating her married pussy and getting her ready for my cock. It never failed to please me to fuck the married woman. Only two cocks had ever been in her cunt, and only one belonged to a man.

  And his dick was tiny. She was so tight the first time I fucked her she might as well have been a virgin.

  “Priscilla,” she groaned. “Oh, yes. Keep licking me.”

  “Going to cum?”

  “Always,” she purred. “You know how much I love cumming.”

  “One of these days I'm going to take your husband up on his
offer and go to church with you.”

  “No,” she gasped as I licked her pussy again.

  “Uh-huh,” I panted between licks. “I'll make you...” Lick. “...cum so hard...” Lick. “...in your church.”

  “Oh, you're so wicked,” she groaned. “Play with my clit. I'm so close.”

  My fingernails scratched her bare asscheeks as I found her clit. A small, pink, throbbing nub buried amid her black curls. Her pubic hair tickled my lips as I latched on. I really needed to make her shave, but she didn't want to explain that to her husband.

  One day she would let me change her husband Martin into Martina.

  I sucked on her nub, batting it with my tongue. My nose pressed into her folds, her juices warm. Every inhalation perfumed by her pussy. My hand stroked faster on my cock. What a delicious rush. I sucked harder, my excitement building as the married woman gasped and groaned.

  “Yes, yes, suck on my clit. Oh, yes. I'm going to cum so hard. Oh, Lord, I'm such a sinful wife.”

  “So sinful,” I moaned around her clit.

  My hand flew up and down my dick. The ache built at the tip. My pussy clenched. I trembled, moaning, so close to erupting. I nipped her clit, bringing a wonderful gasp from her sweet lips. I took a deep breath before sucking harder, my head reeling from her musk.

  I could drown in her juices.

  My cock throbbed. The cum rushed out of my depths. My pussy spasmed as jizz shot from the tip, splattering on the floor beneath her desk. I moaned and shuddered as my pleasure rippled out of my cunt and fired from my dick. The wonderful, conflicting sensations shot through me.

  “Are you cumming?” gasped Meaghan.

  “Yes,” I groaned about her clit.

  “Oh, you wicked futa,” she groaned, her body trembling. “Oh, yes. Oh, fuck. Yes, yes, yes.”

  Her pussy gushed cream. I moved my mouth up, capturing the wonderful flood. Her juices filled my mouth and dribbled down my chin and neck to my blouse. I didn't care. She could stain my clothing. I could use magic to fix it.

 

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