For me, it was a quiet but busy day. Belinda called once in the early afternoon. We talked a few moments while she was on her way to an appointment an... I had a gap between vendors. We would meet this afternoon at the condo.I drove into the complex and pulled into my usual place. Belinda’s car was parked outside. I went inside to a silent house. “Belinda? Where are you?”I heard her low-pitched giggle. I went upstairs to change. I noticed her suitcase in the bedroom. I next noticed she was lying. I was gutted of course but knew I had it coming, it had been stupid and a valuable lesson learned but without his glowing report I would be just another graduate looking for a job. I couldn’t afford the sack but I knew it was inevitable. Mr Bradshaw didn’t look the type to be swayed by a pretty face and a short skirt, except I was wearing the pants that day so even that option was out! He was a dour sod to be honest, about fifty or so with some boring wife tucked away in the country, greying. He was enthusiastic with the stuffed dog on me. I guess we could both pretend. One day after too many drinks I brought out the stuffed dog and we were wrestling with it and swinging it around and it landed on my back. He jumped on my back and started humping. I walked around with him on me like that and he was still trying. In my inebriated state I pulled my pants down and bam, before I knew what hit me he was deep in my virgin ass going to it. It took me a minute to react but it was too late. Her black hair fell loose about her face. I pulled off my hijab as she led me out of the kitchen into her dining room, my blonde hair falling free.She glanced at it, her eyes dark.“What is it like being a futa?” she asked. “I mean, you are mostly female. Do you get periods?”“Yes,” I said. “I can even get pregnant, though I have no interest in having a man be in me.”“Not even your husband?”“He gets to watch me play with Wahida,” I said, noticing the way Fahima's breath quickened. “And he plays.
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