Chapter Two
The bar was crowded. Blackboards bolted to the wall behind the bar were scrawled over with bright chalk, advertising a rotating list of craft beers.
Zach, the big dark-haired guy I matched with on Bigger Than Most, took only small sips of his IPA.
Though he’d insisted on buying the most expensive beer on the blackboard list, he seemed almost repulsed at the prospect of actually drinking it.
I looked cute. A white crop-top that showed off plenty of skin plus a small, tight skirt to match.
My date, however, seemed more interested in himself as he took another sip then offered a performative grimace of disgust.
“I try not to poison my body with carbohydrates and such,” he said. And yeah, he was a big guy. Muscles upon muscles. He was handsome enough I guess, but I could tell he worked hard at it. Too hard, borderline looksmaxxing.
“Yeah, um, you look like you’re in good shape,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, I’m a certified online trainer,” he said. “It’s how I make my money.”
“Cool,” I said, even though from what I’d seen, more than half the guys verified on BTM were ‘certified online trainers.’ “Right now, I’m working as a waitress, but I have a degree in creative writing so I’m –”
“I’m also a moderator on several Reddit boards about big dick problems,” he said, cutting me off with a greasy smirk.
“Oh,” I said, slumping my shoulders. “That’s, um…cool, I guess.”
This is the price I have to pay if I ever want to experience getting filled with a big dick, I thought depressingly.
Yes, I was technically bisexual. Sex with men didn’t repulse me, but I’d never been eager for it, either.
I preferred women. The softness of them, the textures. Women were so much more physically interesting than men. (More emotionally interesting, too, I might add.)
Except women were missing something, and even the biggest strap-on dildo failed to satiate my needs.
Morgan sat a few barstools away. She was half-entertaining the flirtations of a pretty red-haired recent college graduate, but mostly, she was keeping an eye on me.
My mind wandered. Morgan never hid the fact that she was a futa from me. I’d even seen her cock. Though flaccid every time I got a peek, I knew she was packing some serious equipment. Eight inches soft, at least.
My thoughts wandered to a dirty, devious corner of my mind. All of my problems would just go away if I could get Morgan to…
“My dick’s actually bigger than the pic on the app,” Zach said. I guess it wasn’t enough that he cut me off in mid-conversation. He had to cut off my train of thought, too.
I tried not to roll my eyes as I sucked down my mixed drink, then stirred the melting ice cubes with the straw. “Oh really?” I sighed.
He sat up straighter, not-so-subtly flexing his muscles in his tight button-up shirt. “Ten inches,” he said with a greasy, confident grin. “Most chicks can’t handle it.”
My stomach twisted in disgust. Was this really what I’d have to put up with if I wanted to experience a big cock?
But then Morgan suddenly pushed away from the bar. “Okay, I’ve heard enough!” she said, throwing her hands up, confusing the pretty redhead that had been putting the moves on her.
Zach turned around, frowning, annoyed at being interrupted. Morgan stepped past him and slid her arm around my waist.
“Kay, this isn’t worth the trouble,” she laughed, tugging me off of my barstool. “Especially if this asshole is only packing some tiny ten-inch pecker.”
“Tiny!?” he growled.
I laughed along with Morgan, sliding off the barstool at her insistence. My skirt rode up my thighs, perilously close to exposing my dark red thong panties.
“That’s right, tiny,” Morgan said. “But not quite as tiny as that peanut-sized brain you have in your dense skull, you doofus.”
Zach reeled back, frowning sharply. Obviously, he thought very highly of himself. Too highly to be knocked down a peg by some woman.
Before he could muster a reply, Morgan went for the jugular.
“I know you think you’re some kind of alpha male ladies’ man,” she said with a smirk. “But you’re so clueless you can’t even tell that my friend here thinks you’re an absolute dork. She’s sitting here stirring ice cubes, completely uninterested as you blab about your mid pecker.”
“Mid!?” he growled again, apparently so rattled by Morgan’s barrage that he could do little more than repeat her insults back to her.
“Have fun moderating the big dick subreddit, loser,” Morgan giggled as she tossed some cash toward the bartender and swept me out of the bar.
Stepping out into the cool night, Morgan kept her arm around my waist, her high heels clicking on the sidewalk.
I should have been disappointed that my date went so badly, but as I leaned into Morgan’s grip, I couldn’t help but smile.
Her fingers pressed lightly on my lower back, just beneath the edge of my crop top. We hurried along. She opened her hand wider, pressing her palm against my spine. Her thumb tickled my skin, just beneath the bottom edge of my top, while her pinky ventured down toward the waistline of my skirt.
I let myself enjoy her touch, the slight pressure of her skin on mine. Her touch felt natural, it felt comfortable.
And if we weren’t just strictly best friends, it might feel even better, I thought, though I chased the notion out of my mind right away.
“I guess you were right about the algorithm,” I laughed.
“You’re damn right,” she smiled. Then she scoffed, shaking her head. “Ten inches…c’mon…”
She kept her hand on my lower back as we ducked around the corner and headed toward her car. Her last comment, though, hung in the back of my mind like a half-whisper, like an unanswered question.
Is she trying to imply that her cock is bigger than ten inches? I thought.
That notion, of course, sent a sizzling jolt of excitement up my back. As we stepped toward her sedan, I glanced down at her hips, at her thighs.
At her groin, to be specific.
The black satin almost-cocktail dress was wrapped airtight around her, a smothering satin kiss against her tanned flesh, her toned body.
Though Morgan had always been a loud and proud Futanari, I knew for a fact that she wore a crotch guard, either to tuck her dick away or else hold it in place with a piece of firm plastic.
No, I couldn’t see her bulge through her dress, but I couldn’t help but wonder.
Morgan hit the UNLOCK button on her key fob then opened the passenger door for me, stepping to the side, gesturing for me to get in.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” I asked.
“I barely touched my beer,” she said. “What about you? Feeling tipsy?”
I shook my head. “Zach’s personality was so thoroughly revolting that it obliterated any buzz I might have had,” I laughed.
“Well hop on in,” she said. “We still have a bottle of red wine back at the apartment. After suffering through a conversation with Zach, I know you’re going to need a drink or two. I know I do.”
I laughed as I got into the car. “But you weren’t the one talking to him,” I pointed out.
She shrugged. “Listening was bad enough,” she laughed.
Morgan paused for a moment, staring down at me. She’d parked in the shadowy gap between two streetlights, but even in the darkness, her bright blue eyes seemed like they were glowing.
We both fell silent, exchanging small smiles. I bit my bottom lip. Her smile grew a little wider, a little more expectant.
Just then, I found the courage to ask the question that had been lingering. You know, about the size of her cock.
I was just about to ask her about it when she cleared her throat and laughed. “Anyway, let’s get going,” she said, and shut the passenger side door.