Note: Thought I'd put this up. I don't think I'll write another contemporary story in a while. An experiment. Maybe failed. :(
* * *
South Florida, 1998.
Karen was 19, thin but curvy in the right places, and a little on the short side. She was also a blonde—Tamara
loved
that. She had been with one blonde in her life, and she wasn't a futa.
The two worked together at a pet store. Karen had recently hired on as a cashier. Don, the new manager, tended to hire cute little blondes for cashier positions. Tamara had worked there for the past two years and, after year one, finally landed herself a cushy position as an "inventory control specialist." The two had the same hours—shocking that the girl could get a 9 to 5 shift so quickly, but the turnover rate was high at the pet store. Sometimes you just got lucky.
Tamara was a little older and wiser than Karen: 25, thinnish and pale, her hair long and reddish brown. She did okay, sexually speaking, but was still on the shy side. She didn't know if a girl like Karen would ever go for her at first, and though she saw her in the break room a few times, she never said hello.
That was all about to change.
One evening, Tamara's best friend Maxine overheard Karen arguing on her cell-phone in the parking lot—or the aftermath of an argument, rather:
"Yeah, she left me for an actual guy. Right. I don't know why—I'd think since I'm futa, I'd be the best of both worlds for her, but, you know. Whatever. He was rich, too. Maybe that's it. Here I am, working this fucking job as a cashier at Pet's-N-Moar. I still live with my parents. He's got his own place. A car. He's some CEO or something of his own tiny business. Yeah. Right."
Maxine knew Tamara had a thing for futas, to put it mildly. During their usual after-work chit-chat session, Maxine told Tamara the news:
"Are you serious?" Tamara said.
"Yes. She said it."
"Jeez, I'll be looking now. It's amazing how well they can hide it."
"I know, right?"
Tamara wondered if Karen would really like her, though. She was the type of girl who looked like she could get anyone. But judging from what Maxine said, she only liked girls. Or, rather, she was in a relationship with a girl. It was a good sign.
She's probably sad and lonely
Tamara thought.
She needs rebound sex. Bad
. Still, Tamara was always too shy to initiate things, usually. She was very submissive—both sexually and in her whole dynamic with life—and she usually relied on someone else to be her match-maker. At work, Maxine usually filled that role.
"Okay," Tamara said, "I want you to get a sense of what she's about, first. You can tell her that I like her, then see how she reacts."
"I know the routine," Maxine replied. "I wonder if she'll be hesitant, though, because she's a futa. I mean, is there any way I can drop a hint that you're into that?"
Tamara thought a moment. "Act like we've been together, before. And say you liked to use a strap-on me."
Maxine giggled. "You're going to lie to her?"
"Why not? Guys do it all the time. She'll think it's cute."
"She probably knows I'm straight. I mean, look at me."
"What do you mean by that?" Tamara laughed.
"I don't know. Figure it out!"
"Oh, hell, well, think of something."
"Okay, I'll think of
something
."
Maxine thought of something alright—one day she simply told Karen that Tamara, the inventory girl, had a thing for futas.
"You can tell?" Karen asked, blushing.
"Yeah, well. . . I can
barely
tell, but I can tell."
"I thought I hid it so well."
"Oh you did, but I have an eye for that sort of thing."
Karen laughed. "Well, she's pretty. I'll have to talk to her sometime."
And she did.
* * *
Fast forward to their second date: movie night at Karen's house. Karen had a thing for B-movies—all types. She rented two classics—
Crystal Doom II: Revenge of the Blade Elf
and
Hive Dwarf Zero
—as well as one she hadn't seen before:
Tower Chaos
.
The latter was especially dreadful—terrible acting, gratuitous and over-the-top violence, ridiculous puppet monsters, a soundtrack that consisted entirely of a Casio keyboard and a bass guitar. Tamara thought all the movies were dreadful, actually, but wasn't going to say as much. Futas were usually weird, somehow—obsessed creatures. Some would collect over-priced and useless trinkets, others would become arm-chair fashion historians. Recreational knitting was also big among them—some of the most elaborate designs in the country were by futas. Karen didn't knit: she watched B-movies and tacked their posters all over her wall. Tamara thought it was cute.
"Well, that was an. . . experience." Karen said once it was over.
Tamara laughed.
"See why I love B-movies?"
"Oh yeah. They're fantastic."
"They are. I know. It's weird. I can't believe you've put up with me for this long."
Tamara smiled.
"Can I get you another iced tea?" Karen asked.
"Sure." Tamara replied.
Karen grabbed their two empty glasses and raced off into the kitchen. She had one of the cutest butts Tamara had ever seen—especially in purple leggings. They went well with her big white T-shirt. Tamara thought it was funny that Karen didn't even bother dressing nice, but somehow looked exceptionally sexy. Tamara didn't bother either that night, wearing her usual T-shirt and jeans ensemble.
It didn't take long for Karen to return with the iced teas. "Here you go," she said, setting the iced tea on the coffee table in front of Tamara. Tamara took a quick glance at Karen's crotch. She noticed a slightly larger-than-usual bulge.
"Ugh," Karen said after taking a big gulp, "I wish I had your job. I hate being a cashier sometimes. Most of the time, actually."
"Yeah," Tamara replied. "I started out as a cashier. It sucked. We're even busier now."
"How long did you have to cashier before they moved you to the back?"
"8 months."
"Wow. Holy shit. I wonder if I can last that long."
"I wish there was some openings in the back. Actually, Don said we might be even cutting a few positions."
"Really? Why?" Karen looked so adorable when she was surprised.
"I don't know. We are busier. I guess corporate's making some changes."
"I hope they don't cut me."
"I doubt it. You show up on time. You work the hours they want. It's the other girls they'll go after first."
Karen took another gulp of her iced tea. Her throat looked beautiful as she swallowed it down.
"I wonder if I could sleep my way out of cashiering." Karen asked sarcastically, "Who would I need to fuck?"
Tamara laughed. "Well, Don. I guess."
"Ewww," Karen said, scrunching up her face. "I'd fuck him if he made me manager. But he probably doesn't like cock, does he?"
Tamara giggled. "I don't know," she said, "maybe he loves it."