The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (21 page)

“If you stop now and don’t fuck the shit out of my little pussy, I’m going to make your life a living hell.” The lust in her eyes, and the need I can feel pouring from her soul lends credence to her desires. I don’t even think about arguing.

Returning to our kiss and her skilled tongue, I grab the base of my phallic instrument and start rubbing the head against her vulva. Between how wet she already is, and my own precum, I soon have her entire slit lubricated. I know my cock will conform to her tight hole, so I’m not too worried about loosening her up first, but I know that it’ll still hurt when I punch past her hymen.

I concentrate my movements around her clit until she has to break the kiss from moaning so hard. As soon as I feel her energy flood into me from her orgasm, I realign my rod and shove hard into her. Her hips jump up to meet my thrust, and her hymen snaps like a cannon ball hitting a piece of paper.

Her fingers dig into my back, and despite my cock changing to fit her cunt, she’s still incredibly tight as her inner muscles spasm and squirm around my intruding length. I’m not even fully ensconced within her, but I hold still waiting for her to get accustomed to the new invasion. I’d be worried about the pain I’ve caused her, if not for the energy still transferring into me from her orgasm.

“Oh fuck, that was intense,” she says after a few moments. I know that’s my cue to continue.

Slowly I begin to pull out. It feels like her coochy is trying to hold me in, it’s so narrow. When only my head is still inside her, I look her in her beautiful blue eyes, and inform her, “It only gets better.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I drive my hips forward, and smile as her eyes roll back, and I hit bottom. I refuse to let up though. I grab one of her giant breasts (do they even have a cup-size for assets this large?), and guide the nipple to my lips. Our hips meet and smack against each other, my cock making a wet sloppy sound as I pump in and out of her at a rapid pace. Her grunts turn to moans, and back to grunts again as I relentlessly stab her pussy.

With renewed energy, I’m able to pull back, and lift the hefty woman into my arms, surprising a gasp from her. Walking us over to the couch, I gently set her down, and continue to screw into her tiny hole.

Every time I start to get tired from my exertions, she cums and vigor pours into me, renewing my stamina. I lose track of how many orgasms she has, but when mine finally arrives, hickeys cover her breasts, and it feels like I deposit a gallon of semen within her womb.

My head droops to her soft bosom. Despite all the energy flowing through me, I feel content held in her arms and against her awesome chest. I fall asleep, still comfortable within the security guard’s soaked and leaking pussy.

When I wake up, there is a different woman under me.

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Chapter 10

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A Nice Sunday Picnic

“Who are you?” I demand of the attractive, blue eyed and very naked girl lying under me. An unmistakable feeling around my slightly stiffened penis tells me that it’s nestled comfortably within her vagina. Wait. . . . No way! “Jennifer?”

“Ha, ha, funny Lyden,” she states, batting her lashes at me. “Trying to forget that you fucked this fat cow already?”

“Umm,” I start, not sure how to tell her about her transformation, “you might want to get a look at yourself.”

Her brown eyebrows knit together as she tries to figure out what I’m getting at. She uses her not inconsiderable strength to push me off her. My cock makes a squelching noise as it pulls free from her coochy, and I see her wince in pain.

“Oh, I’m going to be sore down there for a while,” she grimaces as she lightly gets to her feet. She miscalculates, and ends up jumping as she attempts to lift her old weight off the ground. I sit back on the couch, and really get a good look at the woman that only a little bit ago, had to weigh over 250lbs, but right now, couldn’t be more that 120lbs. A good portion of that is in her breasts. Slender legs lead up to a nice round bum. Her hips are a little wide, but they don’t compare to the size of her still giant tits. They hang down to her bellybutton, but not bad, just oversized. TanaVesta would be jealous.

Her face had always been somewhat cute, in a pudgy sort of way. Now, with her short brown hair and vivid blue eyes, she’s a stunner.

She’s making the same examination as me, only she’s lucky enough to be hands on. Sticking her small right foot out, she examines it in disbelief, before hefting her breasts apart, and staring at her skinny waist.

“What the
FUCK
did you do to me?” she demands, and I’m surprised to hear heat in her voice.

“Umm, I, uh,” I stammer, not certain what to say.

“Don’t you think that if I’d really wanted to be skinny, I could have worked for it?” Yeah, there’s no mistaking the anger in her tone now. Or in her eyes. “I may not have been anyone’s ideal, but that doesn’t give you the right to go and change my body around to your own tastes!”

“I didn’t mean to,” I defend myself. “This has never happened before!”

“What did you think?” she continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “That I’d be grateful for the fact that I’ll need to buy a whole new wardrobe? That I’d somehow be
happier
if I weren’t so portly?” As she continues to berate me, her volume rises until she’s yelling by the end. “What gives you the right to do this to me?”

Standing quickly, I can feel my own ire rising at the injustice of her anger. “Jennifer, stop! I had no way of knowing this would happen. It’s not something I did to you on purpose, and don’t even truly understand
why
it happened. If you really don’t like it that much, just eat whatever you please, and don’t work out. I’m sure you can get back to where you want to be within a few months.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” She demands, and once again I’m stumped. Are all women so arbitrary and expect us men to just read their minds? “It’s not so much that I’m no longer fat, but that now that I have this body, I’m going to have to work harder at keeping it. I was mostly okay with the way I was. I understood that I would never be skinny, and accepted it. Now that I am, I’m going to have to work hard to maintain it.”

At some point in her explanation I must have sat back down on the couch. Stunned, I can only stare at her openmouthed. She’s angry because she has to work to keep this body? I will never understand women!

“Or, you could just have sex with me on a weekly basis,” I tell her, half joking.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Make you my own little skinny addiction? What? Just come up to you and say, ‘Excuse me Lyden, I need my weekly fucking to stay skinny.’” The sarcasm drips from her tone. “Besides, if I’m always this sore afterwards, they’d have to be a week or two apart.”

Throwing my hands up in frustration I shout, “Bah! I don’t even care anymore. Do what you want. If you’re not happy about it, I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional, and I would change you back if I knew how. I don’t, though, so you’ll just have to suffer everyone looking at you, and wishing they could catch the eye of the stunning and beautiful blue eyed woman that you are now!” Now I’m shouting. I don’t care about that either.

“You . . . you really think I’m beautiful?” Her words come out hushed. I have to strain to hear them over the sound of the blood pumping through my skull.

Is she bipolar? “Are you kidding me? Go look in a mirror,” I state, waving my hand off vaguely. I have no idea where a mirror might be in this rustic cabin. I vaguely recall her telling me there is an outhouse out back. Do outhouses have mirrors?

Without warning, she’s hugging me tight, and laughing into my shoulder. Lemme tell you, if a woman built as well as her hugs you, and you’re both naked—well, except that I still have my socks on—you either react or you’re already dead. I may be angry, but I’m definitely still alive. It doesn’t help that her very ample bosom dangles down and bounces around my very alert cock.

“Oh!” she gasps, pulling away, and noticing how hard I am. “Shit, did I really get that in me this morning? No wonder I’m so sore!” I decide not to tell her that my penis conforms to whatever woman I’m with, and just nod at her. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to find someone else to take care of that. I hurt too much to do it for you.”

She tries to back away, but I grasp her wrist, and pull her back to me. “There is more than one way to take care of me,” I inform her, then pull her the rest of the way to my waiting lips. Hesitantly at first, but with growing desire, she kisses me back.

Letting go of her wrist and grabbing her tits, I press them to either side of my woody, and moan with the pleasure the soft globes give me.

She pulls back only slightly, and looks to where the head of my prick is barely poking out between her round orbs, and then smiles at me. “You like fucking my big titties, don’t you? Well, fuck them with your fat cock. I want to see you cum all over them.”

Her dirty talk is really starting to have an effect on me, and even though I’d gotten off just a little while ago, I can feel myself getting close. This is the first time I’ve ever had my dick between a set of boobs, and I have to admit that the feeling is wonderful. When her mouth drops down, and I feel her extremely talented tongue swirl around the head, I lose it. My first shot goes off in her mouth. She pulls back, allowing the rest of my cum to spray all over her chest and neck. She spits my jism onto her chest, and then sits back on her knees, staring at her shiny bosom.

“I can’t believe I got you off that quickly,” she murmurs. There’s a definite sparkle in her eyes as she stands up, and walks out of the room. There is also no mistaking the extra bounce in her step. Despite the energy I’ve transferred to her, I still feel quite alive from all of her orgasms I gave her this morning.

I get dressed, before entering the attached kitchen. Jennifer has a washcloth and is trying to get herself cleaned up.

“How do you get this stuff off?” She asks me as she continues to scrub.

“Use a bit of soap,” I tell her.

Once she’s fully cleaned, we head back to the couch, where she stares forlornly at her oversized clothes. Her old guard uniform looks more like a muumuu than a shirt, and her pants are hopeless. Only her shoes still fit, and she has to tighten the laces on them.

With her as decently dressed as she can be, we head down the mountain, and back into civilization. Our first stop is to get her some new clothes that I happily pay for. I then have her drop me off at the police station.

I have my story ready as I walk in. Jennifer follows me, and all the officers turn and look jealously at her. In her tight pink spaghetti strap top and even tighter jeans, she’s a teenager’s wet dream.

“What can I do for you,” the officer behind the glass window asks. Thankfully it’s a man as his eyes are glued to Jennifer’s chest. I’d been afraid that a woman might be upset with the way she’s dressed, but this works well. Jennifer, for her part, and despite her protestations to the opposite, seems to be really enjoying the attention.

“Yeah,” I begin my lie, “I’ve been up camping with my girl here, and when I got home this afternoon, my apartment was burned up and my car was missing. Who do I need to talk to about that?”

With some obvious effort, he tears his eyes away from Lansbury, and finally gets a good look at me. “You’re Lyden Snow!” he exclaims as if he doesn’t believe it. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Crap! Apparently I’m already a suspect. Hopefully I’ll be able to stick to my story, and get away with everything.

* * * *

Eight hours later, and innumerable interrogations, I find myself back out on the front steps of the police station. They finally bought my story that someone must have stolen my car after starting the complex on fire. The fire had burned too hot to know where it’d started, but they do know it’d started somewhere on my floor.

To my horror, I find out that twelve people died in the fire, and thirty others were injured. They’d found my car in the grocery store parking lot where it’d been burned, and gunshots had been heard. I’d become their primary suspect, but I have an alibi and a witness. Thank goodness for Jennifer. She’d held up like a champ as they talked to her. They’d released her a few hours before, and when I call her as they finally release me, she doesn’t answer.

Since I’ve missed a few calls from Lisa and Becky, I call them up next. Becky is out the door and on her way to get me before I even hang up.

“You stink,” the very short brunette says as she hugs me.

“Good to see you too,” I laugh.

“I was so worried when I saw your apartment complex had burned, and then you weren’t answering your phone, and
then
they were plastering your face all over the news, and I didn’t know what to think.” I can tell how worried she’d been, by how quickly she’s talking and of course by her tone. While it warms my heart to know she cares, I feel guilty about cheating on her and Lisa with Jennifer and Sheila Lance, my boss. She’d been concerned about my well-being, while I’d been having great sex. Oh, and being terrified for my life. I probably shouldn’t forget about that.

We get into the short woman’s car, and she jabbers about school, work at her law firm, and the stupidity of some people. Thankfully she doesn’t ask about where I’ve been, or what I’ve been doing.

She tells me to use the shower, while she gets started on making dinner.

The water feels great as it washes down my body. Despite myself, it even feels as though some of my worries go down the drain along with the dirty water.

“Welcome back,” a voice says as I hear the curtain pulled back. I turn to see Lisa stepping in, lithe body nude, and eyes sparkling. “Hope you don’t mind, but I got a little sweaty instructing Aikido today. Mind washing my back?”

I chuckle silently at her forwardness and don’t mind at all. The only soap in their shower is the fru-fru kind, so I know I’ll smell a little girly when I get out, but it’ll work well for the pretty blonde.