Authors: Chrystal Wynd
Simon
looked at me oddly. “You can't show me here? Why the break room?”
Because
the break room doesn’t have video cameras stationed in every corner like the
lab does.
“I’ll
explain it when we get there,” I said, turning toward the little room we used
for coffee and breaks.
Please
please please let him follow me.
I
made my way to the break room, heart pounding in tune with my steps. This had
to work. This had to.
I
stepped into the room. It was small, but large enough to hold a table in the
center of the room. The counter along the back wall held a coffee pot and a
microwave.
Simon
entered behind me. Even without hearing him, without seeing him, I knew he was
behind me. I could smell him.
“Okay,”
said Simon, “I’m here. What’s up?”
My
heart was racing. I was no good at this kind of stuff. But I needed it so bad.
I
took him by the lapels of his lab coat and pulled him to one of the chairs.
Then I pushed him down into the seat, still holding his lapels, my face inches
from his.
Simon…smart,
confident, almost but not quite arrogant…actually looked flummoxed.
“Corine…”
he started, but I stopped him with a kiss. Brief, but I nearly came. Then I
dropped to my knees and pushed his legs apart.
My
hands looked foreign to me as my fingers undid his belt and drew down his
zipper. They still looked strange to me as they pulled his pants and underwear
down to his ankles.
His
scent rolled over me, filled my lungs, filled me. I closed my eyes and inhaled.
My lips throbbed. I slid the tip of my tongue across my upper lip and moaned.
“Corine,
we
can’t
…”
said Simon, but I ignored him. I concentrated instead on his cock.
The
state I was in, it wouldn’t have mattered what kind of dick he had, but Simon
was packing some serious meat for a chemist. For any profession, for that
matter. It was a spectacular cock.
I
reached forward and wrapped my fingers around it. It had
heft
. Serious heft.
Then I lifted it and ran my tongue along the underside from base to tip.
He
shuddered. I moaned. I did it again. His cock grew into a rigid bar of steel in
moments.
I
felt his hands on my shoulder, applying pressure, trying to push me away.
“Corine…we
can’t
…we
work together…”
I
reached up and grabbed his wrists, pulled his hands to my tits. “I know,” I
said, looking up at him, my eyes round and begging. “I’m not asking you to
marry me. Just let me have this one thing. This one time.”
I
could see he was still agonizing over it and I couldn’t afford to have him say
no, so I solved his dilemma for him. I shifted slightly, leaned down and slid
my warm, wet mouth over his dick.
My
hips rolled as my whole body responded to that cock…Simon’s cock…in my mouth.
My nipples were rigid inside my bra. I had the fingers of one of my hands
wrapped around the base of his dick, my other hand on his thigh. My knees were
uncomfortably pressed against the hard floor, but the discomfort wasn’t really
registering. My whole being focused on the cock in my mouth.
Simon
probably didn’t know anything beyond the fact that his dick was in a girl’s
mouth. But that dick in my mouth was the most incredible sensation of my life.
I
didn’t just taste his cock. I
inhaled
his cock, its life-giving essence, its power. My head was swimming from the
heady sensations. And then I wrapped my lips even tighter around that shaft and
slowly took that rod into my mouth.
My
vision blurred from the overwhelming sensations, the rush of heat and need. My
belly muscles jumped like crazy. I couldn’t put it off any more. With a bob of
my head and then another bob, I began blowing Simon in the break room.
With
my swollen bright-red lips sliding over his cock, I could already taste his
pre-cum. And the taste of that pre-cum was enough to make me moan again. I
stroked the base of his dick with my hand as my mouth worked his thick shaft.
My other hand cupped his heavy balls.
His
hands were in my hair and I knew he was only seconds from coming. My warm, wet
mouth stroked over his thickness, instinctively working his meat. The
sensations from my lips sliding over his rigid shaft had already wiped out any
conscious thought on my part and I was simply a helplessly needy slut sucking a
dick like my life depended on it.
Simon
was groaning, his fingers clenching my hair. His balls, so heavy and full,
shifted in my hand. His cock hardened even more, now a bar of steel in my
mouth. And then my eyes widened as that heavy, rock-hard cock exploded in my
mouth.
Thick,
heated torrents of cum filled my mouth. I swallowed the semen as fast as I
could, desperately trying to keep up with the flood. I was vaguely aware of
Simon’s groans, his fingers clutching my hair, keeping his cock jammed in my
mouth.
He
just kept coming. His semen pulsed into my mouth again and then again as I
swallowed almost every drop, with only a little dribbling between my lips and
down over my chin.
And
finally the sensation of my swollen lips stroking his cock, my belly filling
with his cum, his explosion into my mouth triggered my release. My most
incredible release ever.
Wave
after wave of paralytic pleasure swept over me. I moaned around Simon’s cock,
unable to stop the storm, helplessly exploding with a dick in my mouth. I rode
the explosion of heat and sensation for what felt like hours, muscles locked,
helpless. There was a pause and then another stunning wave of release washed
over me, then another and yet another. The onslaught of heat and
overstimulation numbed my conscious thought until at last, the final vestiges
of my overbearing arousal finally draining away, I dropped down, too exhausted
to even take my mouth off Simon’s softening cock.
We
stayed like that for several minutes, not speaking, just rebuilding our
strength. Finally he shifted slightly and I sat up.
And
for the first time since I had put on the lipstick, I could think straight. I
had no idea how long it would last, but the overwhelming arousal was muted
enough for me to concentrate.
“I
was right,” I muttered, slowly getting to my feet. My cheeks burned with
embarrassment. My knees were sore.
Simon
leaned over and pulled up his pants. “You were?”
“Yes,”
I said. “I told you I needed it. I was right. Now I can work.”
“I’m
glad it helped,” he said, “but you do understand that we can’t…we can’t do this
again, right? I mean, we work together.”
I
held up a hand to stop him. “Yes, I get it. Trust me, I get it. One-time deal.
I got it.”
Then
I blinked and leaned on a chair, suddenly slightly woozy. Simon put out a hand
to steady me.
“I’m
all right!” I said. “I’m fine. Just suddenly really tired. Let me put my head
down for a few minutes and I’ll be good to go.”
Simon
looked concerned- and I admit it was nice having him fuss over me- but I
pointed out I had good reason to be tired and I just needed to be left alone
for a few minutes to rest.
He
didn’t look happy, but he agreed to wake me up in thirty minutes. He went back
into the lab.
I
sat down and put my head on the table. I was asleep in moments.
*****
My
eyes popped open and I immediately knew I had slept longer than thirty minutes.
In fact, glancing at the clock on the wall told me I slept for over three
hours. And I was tired enough to sleep another ten hours. Of course,
considering it was nearly four in the morning, that was to be expected.
My
lips were tingling again. I had been awake for barely a few seconds and already
my arousal was building. It wasn’t just my lips, though. It was feeling a bit
more generalized.
I
was too tired to work it out right now. I got to my feet and stretched. That’s
when I realized Simon’s jacket was draped over my shoulders. It smelled like
him. I wrapped it a little tighter around my shoulders.
That
is, I
tried
to wrap it around my shoulders a little tighter. It was then I realized what
had changed while I was sleeping.
Heart
pounding again, I walked back out to the lab.
Simon
was working at his station. Three beakers containing various shades of red
liquid were aligned in front of him. He was writing notes in his spiral
notebook, but he looked up as I arrived.
“Hello,”
he said. “Have a nice nap?”
“Yeah,”
I muttered, remembering that just a short time ago, I'd had this man’s cock in
my mouth. Blowing him like a slut. My cheeks reddened.
“You
looked like you needed the rest, so I left you alone,” he said. “In fact, you
really should get home and get some sleep.”
I
nodded. “I’m going now,” I said. “Thanks for…for helping me, um, earlier. And
for working on recreating the color.”
“No
problem,” he said. “I think I’m moving in on the hue. I still have to narrow
down the polymer-pigment bonding field, though…”
He
droned on, but fortunately he realized he was losing me.
“Sorry,”
he said. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I
nodded. “Yes,” I said. “I’ll be here. Trust me.”
I
turned and left abruptly then. Not because I was embarrassed, although I was.
Not because I was tempted to kiss Simon, although I was.
I
left because I was afraid Simon might ask for his jacket back. And if I had
given him his jacket back, he would have realized that my breasts had swelled
while I was sleeping.
I
barely saw the road as I drove home. My tits were growing!
This
was getting out of control. I was getting out of control. I had to breathe
through it, pull myself together. I was a scientist. I could handle this.
I
was better by the time I got to my apartment, although not much. My heart was
racing. How could lipstick cause this kind of reaction?!
I
entered my apartment and walked straight to the bathroom. I unbuttoned my
blouse and unhooked my bra, letting my breasts pop free.
I
felt a little calmer as I looked at my reflection. The swelling didn’t appear
to be as prominent as I thought- they had felt gigantic at the time- but I was still
at least a cup size bigger than the b-cup boobs I had started the evening with.
A little fuller, heavier, more substantial.
What
the hell?
I
shook my head. I was run down and needed some rest. I was going to sleep for a
few hours, then get back to the lab and get this fixed.
I
finished undressing, put on a long t-shirt and slid under the covers. As I
drifted off to sleep, I had the comforting thought that at least things really
couldn’t get much worse.
*****
When
I woke up, I knew things had gotten worse.
I
sat up and nearly fell as an unfamiliar weight shifted me forward. There was a
momentary weightlessness and then the impossibly sensuous feel of two huge
globes dropping back into place, jiggling softly as they settled.
I
gasped at the sudden sensations coursing from my nipples. Eyes wide, my hands
flew to my impossibly rounded boobs, hefting them. My breasts had grown
another three sizes while I was
sleeping.
My
heart pounded. Anxiety raced through me. I forced myself to calm down. I
instantly regretted that, however, as that gave me the clarity of mind to
realize that far more than my breasts had changed.
The
hair on my hair had grown during my sleep. Really grown. Not to “need a trim”
standards…to “have lived in a jungle for five years” standards. My black locks
had transformed into a raven waterfall cascading down my back to my hips. My
body hair was strangely unaffected, but my wild jungle hair more than made up
for it.
I
swung my legs over and put my bare feet to the area rug next to my bed, willing
myself to a calmer state. It wasn’t easy. My center of gravity felt shifted. I was
tingly all over. Aroused. Hot. Really hot. Even just sitting here, my hips were
wriggling. My arousal was so intense, I could smell my sex. I pressed my thighs
together and took a deep breath.
Back
in control of myself, I stood and walked to my bathroom. I closed the door and
removed my t-shirt. Then I looked at myself in the full-length mirror.
I
was in trouble.
My
hair was every bit as big and wild as I had feared and my breasts were every
bit as lush and heavy as I thought. No cap was going to contain all that hair
and there was no chance at all that Simon’s jacket- or any jacket- could cover
up my ridiculously swelled rack.
There
were other changes too, changes that hadn’t been obvious when I awoke but could
be seen now plain as day. Specifically, my waist had cinched in slightly, my
hips had widened and my backside had plumped out.
My
lips were still fat pillows, soft and red. They were so plump now that I knew
I’d have trouble speaking clearly. And my eyelashes appeared to be slightly
longer.
Except
for my breasts and hair, each change was subtle, almost unnoticeable by itself.
But taken together, along with my red lips, overgrown bust and model hair, I no
longer looked like a serious-minded chemist. I looked like…
…a
bimbo. A vapid, sex-obsessed bimbo. And judging by the growing heat in my
belly, my looks weren’t just skin-deep.
How
the hell was I going to stop my slow transformation? And worse, what was Simon
going to think of me now?
*****
I
took a shower. The warm water over my nipples and skin gave me a sensuous rush.
My twitching belly muscles let me know that the earlier muteness between my
legs had passed. I was so distracted from arousal that I didn’t even realize I
had used half a bottle of shampoo on my jungle-girl hair until the bottle was
empty. My body was a walking hormone, but despite my increased and intensified
arousal, I couldn’t climax. I was a wet mess.
Frustrated,
I finally turned off the water and yanked open the shower curtain. I tried to
towel-dry my hair, but that was like trying to towel-dry a carpet. I wrapped my
hair in towels then, but the weight of the wet towels and my wet hair nearly
sprained my neck.
I
then tried to blow-dry my hair, but I had no previous experience with a mass of
hair anywhere close to the tangled mess on my head right now and after nearly
setting fire to my scalp, I gave that up. In despair, I finally just tried to
brush out my hair and realized I had no clue what I was doing. I tried pulling
the brush through my damp locks and it caught in the tangles, yanking my scalp
painfully.
I
was horny, frustrated and overwhelmed, and that was the last straw. I stamped
my bare foot, inadvertently causing my overdeveloped tits to jiggle, creating
another wave of heat from my nipples. I yanked my hairbrush out of my tangled
hair and launched the brush across my bathroom into the shower.
I
bit my lower lip as my eyes watered. I was a scientist, dammit. I wouldn’t cry.
I wouldn’t!
But
I could sniffle a little.
So
I did. But after a few seconds, I finally realized someone was knocking on my
door.
Who
the hell could that be? I grabbed a towel and did my best to wrap up my crazy
mass of hair. Then I slipped into my bathrobe. My just getting out of the
shower was enough to justify my not asking the visitor in, regardless of who it
was.
I
padded across my apartment on bare feet. I got to my front door and then looked
through the peephole.
It
was Simon.
Frickin’
great. The one person I didn’t want to see right now. This body was
embarrassing enough, but now I had to face the guy I had attacked and blown
like a slut just hours ago.
I
knew I was better off just ignoring his knocking. I had suffered enough
humiliation for one day and I should just eat ice cream and watch television
for the rest of the day as I slowly turned into a helpless, horny bimbo. But
for some reason, my body wasn’t listening to me. My hand reached out and turned
the doorknob.
Dammit.
Stupid traitorous body.
“Yes?”
Simon
peered through the crack in the door. “Hello, Corine,” he said. “I was working
at the lab and didn’t see you there, so I decided to take a break and check on
you.”
Oh,
geez. His scent. I can smell him. I’m wet. I’m getting crazy wet. Slut wet.
“I’m
fine,” I said, “but I’m feeling a wittle under the weather. Maybe I’ll go in
tomorrow. Thanks for checking.”
Oh,
no. My lips were so swollen that I was lisping. His smell was making me lose
control of my facilities. Anxiety raced through me. I started closing the door,
but he put up his hand.
“Hang
on,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Can I get you anything?”
“No,”
I said, on the verge of panic. “I just need to west for a wittle while.”
“I
understand,” he said. “I just need one thing from you, if you don’t mind.”
That
scent. His scent.
“What
is it?” I said, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.
“I’m
getting closer to reproducing the shade,” he said, “but without you there, I
have no basis for comparison. Can I please see your lips?”
Oh,
gawd. An eternity passed, but I didn’t have a good reason for not showing him.
There was no getting around it.
Just
a brief flash, then. I’d let him take a look, then plead weakness and close the
door.
I
took a breath and opened the door just wide enough to let the sunlight shine on
my face.
Simon
stepped a little closer and peered at me. “Yes,” he said, “that’s about what I
thought. Give me a second to take a picture and-“
That’s
when my towel dropped and my huge mass of hair collapsed over my face and
shoulders, all the way past my waist.
Simon
stared, apparently too stunned to speak. I looked up him, eyes wide, and said,
“Dammit! You bwoke my hair!”