Hot, bathed in sweat, agitated, intensely aroused, I woke suddenly, confused. The sheet was wrapped around me and the t-shirt I’d worn to bed bunched around my neck, the bedding in disarray, my long hair wet with sweat and stuck to my neck and face. I turned on my bedside light and lay there for a moment, shaken and gasping, taking stock and trying to calm down.
The weirdest dream, at once terrifying and incredibly pleasurable, slowly came back to me. I’d had an intense orgasm, I was sure of it, my body still throbbing with aftershocks, and when I touched my breasts, I found them tender, swollen almost, and my nipples were hard, almost too sensitive to touch. When I slid my hand down my sweat-slick torso to my sex, it too was tender with the used, near-abused sensation of deep, rough sex with a very well-endowed and vigorous lover.
My nether lips felt puffy and bruised, my clit so hard, huge, and sensitive that to touch it brought pleasure bordering on pain, and if I continued, I knew I’d scream, whether in agony or orgasm, I was afraid to discover. I was also wet, sloppy wet, far more than my copious arousal juices have ever caused as if I’d fucked half a dozen men, and each had ejaculated inside of me.
Although shaken and confused, I had to admit that it had been an orgasm like no other – assuming it had happened and was not just an incredibly vivid dream – and as my shuddering ceased and my nerves gradually calmed, I realized I wanted it again… and again! Now, though, the unmistakable post-sexual fatigue, the lassitude of complete and utter satiation overtook me, and I fell deeply asleep, my hand between my legs, cupped over my hot, bruised, dripping sex.
In the morning, I awoke invigorated, full of energy and eager to meet the day, although all of my erogenous zones still felt the pleasant tingle of hard use and latent arousal. It lasted all day, my arousal increasing at work until it was almost intolerable, and others seemed to pick up on it too, men making frequent unnecessary sojourns to my desk, some of them displaying the unmistakable bulge of their arousal beneath their dress slacks. Was it something in my eyes, possibly the scent of my arousal? Could they tell I was intensely aroused? What was making them hard, creating the need to be near me? Disconcerting, to say the least, but it fed my flames.
Almost the last to leave, I stumbled into Randall, one of my coworkers, in the outer office. He stammered and blushed, backing away as he apologized, but I’d felt the hard bulge of his erection when he’d bumped into me. Unable to not, I looked at the ridge of his aroused cock where it printed against his thin dress pants, the head of it clearly delineated. When I looked up, he looked embarrassed but also a little bit dazed, the way I felt.
I’ll never know what possessed me to do it, but I suddenly stepped forward and put my hand on his cock, squeezing it as I pressed my lips to his. Seeming equally baffled by his own actions, he returned my kiss, thrusting his tongue into my mouth even as he reached up under my skirt and between my legs, finding me hot, my panties soaked through. I moaned and thrust myself against his seeking fingers for a moment, but I wanted his cock!
He stood as if rooted when I dropped to my knees and unfastened his pants, shoving them and his underwear down to his knees. I gobbled him up, taking his modest but very stiff cock between my lips and onto my tongue to suck, squeezing and fondling his balls, fucking his ass vigorously with a wet finger as he began to hump himself into my mouth. In a minute, maybe less, he was pumping spurt after spurt of hot, heavy cream, filling my mouth.
I let him finish, the sensation of his cock throbbing between my lips having gotten me off as well, and when he began to go soft, I let him slip free and stood, grabbing him by his hair and pressing my lips to his again, sharing his ejaculate. He took it, too stunned to do otherwise, and I turned and walked away as I swallowed the remainder. When I reached the door, I looked back; he was still standing in the same spot, a shocked look on his face, pants around his ankles, his small cock now going limp and forlorn as it dripped onto his shoe.
It was all I could do to not masturbate in the car on the way home, my need unfulfilled despite my orgasm, the taste of cum in my mouth, my lips sensitive and hot from sucking cock. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done, but I was confident that Randy, a married man, wouldn’t tell anyone – and besides, he’d seemed to thoroughly enjoy it, despite the surprise factor!
Once home, I dropped my purse inside the door, stripped out of my wet panties, plopped down on the sofa with my feet a yard apart on the coffee table, and rubbed out a powerful orgasm in a matter of minutes. It left me wrung out and panting, aftershocks running through me, my hand and my thighs wet with my juices. A little while later, I recovered enough to eat some dinner, although I could feel my arousal rushing back, building, swelling, a living, ravenous thing.
I tried to ignore it, tried to let it go away on its own, but to no avail. I was so wired with arousal, so desperately horny, that I knew I’d get no sleep, so I dug out my favorite toy, a nice-sized vibrator, and treated myself to a powerful, grinding orgasm. Even then, I remained aroused, and as I was getting ready for bed, brushing my teeth, etcetera, my mind turned to the previous night and my weird, intensely sexual dreams and the power of the orgasm I’d had in them.
I found myself wondering if it might happen again – hoping, in fact, that it might. It had been weird and a little bit frightening in its power, but also deeply, impossibly satisfying! I slept naked, forgoing even the little t-shirt nightie I normally wore, and even with my arousal still on low buzz, the effects of my vibe-induced climax provided the soporific I’d hoped for, and I drifted off.
Sometime later – hours, because it was just beginning to get light outside – my cries and moans awoke me, and it was as before, except this time I awakened on my knees, my face in my pillow and the pillowcase clasped between my teeth. My hands gripped the sheet tightly, bunching the fabric in each fist, my ass in the air, knees apart, and feet and lower legs extending beyond the foot of the bed.
My body was wracked with the spasms of an astonishing orgasm, something I seemed to have awakened in the midst of, shaking like a leaf with the power of it! My nipples were on fire, hard and sensitive and grinding on my sheets, and my pussy was spasming as if clutching for something that wasn’t there. I released one hand from its death grip on the sheet and reached back, between my legs, to touch myself.
Spasming powerfully when I touched my sex, I cried out, every nerve ending aflame with lust. My clit was hard and jutting, my lips puffy and swollen, hot and wet. My vagina still tried to grasp an imaginary cock, but I was open, used… not gaping, due to my muscle spasms, but open, bruised, and fucked hard by something large. In addition, I was leaking copiously; a viscous white fluid – it could only be semen – was running out of me, soaking the sheet below.
I brought my hand to my face and sniffed; it was undeniably cum, the scent unmistakable but somehow stronger and more pungent than any man I’d had experience with. When I licked my fingers, the taste was also cum, but sweet, intoxicating, and possibly addictive, and I licked again, the overwhelming scent and flavor of powerful masculinity making my orgasm flare anew.
Moaning aloud as my body quaked, I rolled to my back, my other hand flying to my sex while my cum-slathered hand groped my breasts and tortured my sensitive, semen-slick nipples. I pressed my hand firmly to my cunt, my pelvis still grinding to the commands of my slowly waning orgasm. I was eventually able to lie mostly still, only an occasional aftershock rattling me, and catch my breath, my body again bathed in sweat. As I became cognizant of my surroundings, my eyes darted frantically around the room.
Terrified… I should have been terrified, and I suppose I was, in a way, but the experience had been so intensely powerful and pleasurable that I was curious more than anything. Curious and deeply satiated. Perhaps the mind-altering effect of my incredible climax having left me torpid, my mind and body flooded with powerful endorphins and benumbed by pleasure, dulled any terror I should have felt. Still, I had to know!
Rising to my feet, I wandered the room and then the house, looking for any sign of another’s presence or any sign of forced entry. There was nothing, all doors and windows secure, nothing but my arousal still simmering and the sensations in my body of having engaged in an incredible sexual session. Even walking seemed to cause ripples of pleasure to run through me, and when I stopped and squeezed my cum-slick thighs together, I had a small orgasm that left me gasping. Back in my bedroom, spilled semen puddled on the floor, the reek of sex and cum, and something else – testosterone, I think, foreign as that thought was – made me shudder with need.
I went to my master bath and tried to clean up, cum running down both legs almost to my knees. Bent forward, I looked at my sex; I had very obviously been used, fucked, my cunny bright pink and puffy, my clit still jutting out like a miniature cock, larger than it had ever been before. Had I not been so exhausted, I think I’d have masturbated again and again, caught in a spiral of arousal, but as it was, it was all I could do to stumble back to bed. The thought of showering and changing my wet sheets entered my head and was quickly dismissed, and I crawled back between my rumpled, sweaty, cum-stained sheets and instantly fell into a deep sleep.
In the morning, I awoke as before, exhilarated, rested, and charged with energy, my ever-present arousal now a welcome part of me. The hot spray of water in the shower against my over-sensitized skin was almost orgasmic, and when I let it spray directly on my stiff nipples, I came. My arousal carried through the day, but I’d come prepared with several absorbent pads, despite it not being that time of the month for me, and with two pairs of clean panties should my arousal again soak through my defenses.
Sitting at my desk, I discovered that squeezing my legs together tightly as I subtly ground my ass on my chair could make me climax, and I did so several times. Luckily, since my eyes were closed each time and my body twitched with the unmistakable spasms of orgasm, I never got caught. Still, with my excess energy, I got a great deal of work done and became so absorbed that I didn’t realize it was again past quitting time.
When I looked up, most of the other offices were dark, and the light in the outer office dimmed to security level. At that moment, Randall stepped into my doorway and paused, looking at me. He was again visibly aroused, the ridge of his erection angling from the apex of his thighs toward his left hip.
Feeling awkward, I said, “Oh, Randy, hi. I think I owe you an apology for last night, I don’t know…”
He interrupted. “No, Caillen, it’s Okay. God, it was amazing. That kind of thing only ever happens in my fantasies; I only hate that it was over so quickly.” He blushed, and I think I did, too, as I laughed.
“I came when you did. I think maybe we were both a little too excited. Still, you’re married, and I shouldn’t…”
“If my wife knew, she’d thank you herself. It was like you lit a fire in me, and when I got home, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. We were like newlyweds again – better, even! Three times we had sex. That hasn’t happened in years, and she came so many times she was exhausted.” He shook his head, grinning. “She was very lovey-dovey this morning, touching and kissing; she didn’t want me to come to work.”
“Well, I’m happy for you then, but still… You should have taken a sick day today, huh?”
“I thought… well, I thought I’d come to see you, find out if I could return the favor.”
“Oh, gosh… wow!” My mind said no, but my body screamed ‘YES’! Despite the many times I’d gotten myself off during the day, the idea of another doing it made me shiver with arousal. I stood and walked around my desk, and without saying another word I pulled my skirt up and my wet panties down, carefully working them over my heels, leaving them on the floor. I backed up until my bottom hit the lip of my desk and then scooted up onto it, leaning back on my elbows and pulling my legs up and wide apart, my wet, horny pussy on full display to his hungry eyes.
He walked forward as if hypnotized, his eyes never leaving my sex, and dropped to his knees, burying his lips and tongue in my slippery heat. I cried out and came almost at once, which seemed to only fuel him to greater efforts. Draping my legs over his shoulders, I dug my heels into his back, my hips on autopilot as I humped myself to his mouth. His hands moved up my sides as he reached out, squeezing my breasts through my blouse and thin bra, his fingers unerringly finding my rigid nipples and pinching them as I came again, and after that, I sort of lost it, my fingers tangling in his hair, gripping it, pulling him to me and grinding my pussy into his face like some wanton, out of control slut… but God, it felt good!
I was moaning, crying out, grinding myself to him, and I felt his tongue enter my vagina and then my anus, pushing into me as I came again before he moved to sucking and licking my hard mini-penis, my stiff clit begging to be sucked as I came one more time. Suddenly, it became too much, and without realizing I was doing it, I placed one foot on his shoulder and kicked him away from me. I heard him land on his ass on the floor with a soft, “Oof!” but all I could do was lie there and convulse.
When I’d finally settled enough to become aware of my surroundings again, I raised my head and looked at him. He remained sitting on the floor, staring at me as if in awe as I gasped, “God, Randy! That was amazing… come here, let me do you now!”
He suddenly looked sheepish. “Um, yeah, about that…” As he rose to his feet, I could see a wet stain, three inches across and spreading, right over the head of his cock. He’d ejaculated in his pants just from eating my pussy, a massive load by the look of it!
I laughed. “Oh, wow… Well, it looks like you enjoyed what you were doing.”
“Ohh, lord, yes! I’m still hard as a rock, though.”
“You can fuck me if you want.” I heard the words and thought, where the hell did that come from? But I knew I’d let him if he wanted to. “Or I could suck you off again, that was nice.” When he hesitated, I realized. “Oh. You want to take it home to your wife! That’s good; a great idea, really. You should do that.”
He looked miserable. “How am I going to explain a huge cum stain on my pants?”
“You’re not. You’re going to take a bottle of water from the fridge in the break room and ‘accidentally’ spill it in your lap on the way home when someone cuts you off in traffic.”
“What? Oh… yeah, that could work. Thanks!”
“De nada, stud – go wash your face, though; you look like a glazed donut.” I’d liberally coated his face in my juices, eyebrows to chin and almost ear-to-ear, and had created a small puddle on the edge of my desk.
He chuckled. “You’re amazing – and delicious, by the way. You’re like a beautiful, blonde, five-foot-six…”
“Five-foot-eight.”
“Oh, sorry – five-foot-eight Viagra tablet. God, I can’t remember ever being this horny or this hard. What did you do to me?”
I was tempted to tell him about the strange things I’d been experiencing, hoping that by sharing them, maybe we could make some sense of it, but I didn’t. Instead, I smiled and said, “Black magic, Randy, spooky stuff. Go get cleaned up and take that big, beautiful cock of yours home to your wife.”
The black magic part may have even been true, for all I knew, but the big cock part was not; I mean, I’m sure he was a nice, average size, but it never hurts to give a guy with his newfound sexual prowess an additional word of encouragement. As he wandered off down the hall, I tried to put myself back together. I used my panties to dry some of the wet smears from my upper thighs before stuffing them in my purse and walking out to my car, I could feel the air moving, cool on my still-wet sex, even that subtle sensation arousing me.
On the ride home and throughout the evening, there was an ever-present need to touch, to masturbate, to seek an orgasm and then another, but I didn’t; I denied myself pleasure, despite the pressure to seek it making me almost feverish, my skin afire, my mind screaming for release. I wanted, I lusted and longed for sex, and as I tried and failed to sit still and ignore it, I searched for answers.
I’d always had a strong sex drive and an active and powerful libido, but nothing like this! I wasn’t promiscuous, I don’t think, although I’d had several male partners (and two females) over the last ten years, some of them romantic interests and others merely fuck buddies. I enjoyed sex immensely and enjoyed experimenting with toys, and different positions and fetishes, and I’d had threesomes with two men on a couple of occasions – thinking about which wasn’t helping at all – but this was an almost frantic, desperate need, maybe something a nymphomaniac or sex addict feels, and I’d never been that.
Failing at trying to distract myself from my intense desire for sex by thinking about my past sex life (go figure…), I thought instead about my most recent love interest; it had fallen apart badly between us, just going off the rails as our lives proved incompatible and ending acrimoniously, and, still hurting from that, I’d sworn off relationships for a time. It had been almost three months since I’d had a sex partner; could that be the cause of my suddenly outrageous libido? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was miserable, aching with need, intensely horny – but this time, entirely on purpose as I denied myself relief.
My thought was that by not granting myself release, I’d be far too horny for sleep and so might remain awake to find out what was happening to me in the darkness of the night! With that thought in mind and my nipples and clit hard and tingling, my pussy wet and ready, I crawled into bed naked.
And laid there. And then lay there some more, my eyes wide open, my mind flooded with the most obscene and graphic, perverted sexual imagery. I tossed and turned, unable to lie still, and I squeezed my breasts, hoping to ease the ache but not allowing myself to pinch my sensitive nipples, knowing I’d come if I did. Somehow, despite all that, exhaustion finally overtook me, and I dozed, my mind still twisting around vivid sexual fantasies.
When I awoke, it was as the night before, my body bathed in sweat and aflame with arousal, my ass in the air and my face down into my pillow, my hands clutching at the bedcovers. Except this time, there was a very large and powerful pair of hands holding my hips, and an enormous erect phallus was sliding in and out of my dripping cunt, a very heavy set of balls slapping my vulva and my eager clit with each forward thrust!
I continued to feign sleep, but I couldn’t stifle a moan or stop my pelvic muscles from contracting on it, squeezing the thick organ within me. When that didn’t scare off whoever this was, I slowly snuck a hand down between my knees and reached up to squeeze his balls… and oh my God! His rack felt like something you might find beneath a prize bull or ram, certainly not between the legs of any man, impossibly huge and heavy, each testicle as big and firm as a ripe eggplant. A single one filled my hand, and as I squeezed it, he stopped thrusting, his giant cock buried inside of me to the hilt.
I heard a gasp and felt his body stiffen as he suddenly began to withdraw. Desperate for him not to do so, I cried, “No, please don’t stop! Don’t go! I… I need you.”
When he growled something unintelligible and thrust back into me, I said, “Fuck me… please, fuck me!” I was somehow not embarrassed by my pleading, only grateful that he complied, hammering into me. And oh my God! No longer constrained by the need to avoid awakening me, he took me deep, hard, and violently, and it was incredible! His huge hands moved from my hips to my shoulders, pulling me back onto him and then to my breasts, squeezing and stroking my hard nipples.
I came and came again, and when he pushed his huge thumb into my ass, I came again. I fucked him back eagerly, thrusting backwards to impale myself on his immense, rigid organ, and came again, and the next time I heard him, it was to growl that he was coming as he thrust deeply into my pussy and began to spasm violently, his cock leaping and spurting in my depths.
His orgasm seemed to go on and on, far longer than any man I’d previously known, and the swelling, pumping spasms of his monstrous phallus flooding me had me joining him in an amazing orgasm of my own. My contractions and the sheer volume of his semen caused it to squeeze out around him and run down my cleft in a thick, white flow and to stream from my jutting clit onto my sheets, where it puddled before soaking in.
Finished, done, and done in, I collapsed onto my belly, and he rode me down. He was heavy and hot against my sweat-slick flesh, and I had the impression he was huge, powerful, much taller and wider than me, and even with him supporting much of his weight, I was pinned. He moved his hips, slow and gentle, his monstrous cock, still deep inside of me and still hard, sliding easily in its cum-filled confines, his massive scrotum sliding heavy against my thighs.
I moaned at the sensations, pure pleasure, and thrust back to meet him as I asked, “Who are you? How did you get in here?”
“I am called Kyloth, and you invited me.”
I thought it an unlovely name, coarse on the tongue and vaguely Eastern European-sounding but was focused more on the second part of his response. “Invited you? I did not invite you!” That was true, although, in a moment of honesty, I had to admit that I was very glad he was there!
“Yes. Two nights ago, you opened yourself to me, inviting me into your life.” His voice was deep, heavy, almost as if it emanated from deep in his chest, but…
“No! Two nights ago was the first time – you took me in my sleep, I didn’t know…”
“Two nights ago, I was not here. My spirit only it was that visited you, and you sensed me. The response was your own, all you; you remained untouched, responding only to the presence of my thoughts. Had you not responded, or had you responded with fear or horror, you’d have never seen me. I’d have taken you and slipped away because that is what I do, but you’d have thought it a dream, and none of this would have happened. Instead… you responded as you did, positively and explosively.”