Her thighs looked tree trunks and her great wobbly fat belly had so many rolls you couldn’t count them. Her ass was wide, round and so enormous you...literally had to pull mountains of cellulite flesh apart to find her dirty shit hole. She had big fat arms, more chins than a Chinese phone book and a huge pudgy face. She always wore clothing that was about 12 sizes too small for her enormous body; short skirts that were so small her entire ass would be exposed. She had been used over and over. .” Then she glanced at me, her eyes wide. “I mean, should we tell them.”“I’m a futanari,” I said at the top of my lungs. I heard a few gasps from nearby tables. “I, eh, came down with Futanari Syndrome yesterday.”“That’s the secret that you and Pita have been hinting at!” Briana gasped.“Oh, my god, Jenny!” gasped Tina. She bounded to her feet. “Are you okay?“I’m great!” I said, tightening my grip on Wendy’s hand. “I’m a futanari, and so it’s not gay. Because I have a...” My cheeks burned.. More

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