Impulse Control
by Pizzahead
Chapter Seventeen — All Inside the Family
I swiped my index finger along the unconscious Stacy’s still-soaked slit, and brought her scent to my nose. At one level pussy is pussy, but every woman is different. I had some stepmother-fucking to do in Michigan—it was probably past time that Meghan and I hooked up again—and then I could spell myself back here to do whatever I wanted with Stacy. Well, whatever was possible to do with a Kong-cock, feeding her fetish all night long.
Like someone carrying a souvenir of a tropical pussy-paradise back into the cold of the Midwest, I had Stacy’s aroma in my nostrils as I spell-a-ported to my chalet in Michigan. I quickly got the stove going and put on warm clothing, and a few hard strokes with a broom had my Toyota cleared of a dusting of recent snow. I drove off with nowhere to go; I just needed to kill some time and not be home, so Meghan could arrive and prepare herself for whatever she had in mind. Which, I figured, would have me finally losing my load, wayyy overdue.
Was it a positive sign when I saw a shooting star zipping left to right above the tree line? “Make tonight’s sex with Meghan even more wild and crazy than I can imagine,” I made my wish, believing it had the possibility of coming true.
Driving on, it took some mental adjustment to accept that I was among white pines and snow drifts again, after eating under palm trees in the evening. I’d spent a lot of my life complaining about the length and severity of Michigan winters, but I still loved this place for its rugged beauty, and for the people there who were still in my life. I didn’t know if I could call it my home anymore, even with the chalet—I wondered whether I was someone who could even have a real home now, or whether it would be more realistic to think of myself as a budding world traveler, only lightly tied to any particular place. The old magician, may the book preserve his soul, had apparently lived in that castle-like building in the woods that didn’t quite exist—would I eventually end up there, too, invited to spend my later years in a kind of ethereal retirement home?
That place had completely changed my life for the better, but it also gave me the creeps, and anytime I thought too much about it I got this queasy feeling. I’d been given pretty much everything I could ever hope for if the aim of my life was sexual gratification, and perhaps by default, that was indeed becoming the primary focus of every day that I wasn’t on some obscure assignment. It kind of went like this: What does a guy do when his dick can always get hard and stay hard, and he has magical abilities to get inside womens’ minds and bodies to make them all horny? Find great-looking babes and come up with new ways to use his magic and inexhaustible dick, duh.
I was semi-hard while driving, and with a glance at the dash clock, I figured I’d been erect to varying degrees for at least two hours straight. Moreover, my dick had been several different sizes while erect, all of that taking place within the borders of three widely separated states, Florida, Colorado and Michigan. Guinness people, I think we have a new world’s record.
I glanced at the clock again—time was moving way too slow—and in doing so I saw that I was running low on gas. “That wouldn’t be such a tragedy anymore,” I said, because if I ever did run out of gas on a deserted stretch of highway, I could spell-a-port to some warm and comfortable place, buy and fill a can with fuel and spell-a-port back with it. Still, I had my eyes open, and about ten miles on I pulled into an open Valero station.
I filled up outside, and the cold wind reddening my cheeks and nose was more tolerable when I knew I’d be back in Florida in a couple of hours. I paid outside but I was thirsty, and since the station had a quick-mart, I went in to grab something with caffeine.
“Hey,” the guy at the counter said. He had a hand planted flat on the counter and I noticed that his posture was weird, his body twisted to the side. He was red-faced, too, for no apparent reason.
I replied a soft hello and walked past, but then I slowed, instincts kicking in. Walking very leisurely towards the cold drinks, I opened to take in the impulse field, and though there were only two people to be seen in the store, me and the cashier, I detected a third. Smiling, having an inkling of what must be going on, I cast the impulse spell on that unseen third one, and found that it, she, had an excited clitoris.
“Well hello,” I whispered, turning around and scanning high, finding a round mirror in a far-right corner that showed how a squatting figure had her head buried into the cashier’s crotch. All I could really tell about her was that she had straight red hair, and she was wearing a white sweater. Oh, and there was a slow twisting motion going on with her head, the guy getting a very steadily-paced hummer.
I had discovered, through Dawn and Mary McCabe, that I really liked redheads, and if they had a tidy little tuft of scarlet pubic hairs, all the better. The violin-shaping of her back and butt looked promising, and if I wanted to, I could fuck with this girl enough to get a good look at her, possibly setting up a future encounter… But no—I was already juggling plenty of hot women and Meghan would be waiting, so I should keep on keeping on.
But not without a little fun. While I picked out a sixteen-ounce Dr. Pepper, I juiced the intensity of the humming girl’s clit, and heard a muffled, “Christ!” from the counter guy, who might have just had his dick lightly bitten.
“Oh, why not,” I said, making the girl’s clitoris spike way high, which produced the sound a young woman might make when her mouth is full and she can’t believe how a budding orgasm is gathering momentum.
She had the impulse to suck harder, faster—what she was doing down there felt so great, after all, like some slipping snow was gathering into an imminent avalanche—and I put that impulse into overdrive, until I could hear the cock-sucking slurps. Walking towards the counter, I saw the guy wincing, and with all the female moans and lip-smacking sounds coming from the general area of his legs, he knew that I knew what was going on.
I lifted my bottle in salute, and grabbed a small bag of chips, too, and sauntered on out the door. I assumed she had him blowing his load by the time I got to the door of my car, and I knew she came spectacularly, because I could feel it begin, and I upped the octane on her climax and drew it out, raising the intensity more, and more, until I could hear her wailing right through the glass walls.
“A magician’s work is never done,” I said, opening my drink and taking a long swig. All the more true when I was a sex-obsessed magician, and there wasn’t a person alive who, in their heart of hearts, didn’t love getting off.
Leaving those two to sort out the repercussions of just how hot the girl could feel when giving under-the-counter hummers, I pulled back onto the highway, going in the direction of the chalet, and Meghan. I figured that if I went the speed limit the whole way, that should put me there sashionably late, just the right amount of time to leave Meghan stewing.
On a stretch of long open road, it came to me that I had left my cock several inches too big for Meghan, even after shrinking it down from my Stacy encounter. I was finding that with every woman, there was an ideal range for me to be, a personalized Goldilocks zone. With Stacy, where the aim was to light up all the fetish receptors in her brain, the right size was ridiculously massive, to a degree that made actual physical sex impractical. With Mary McCabe, I had found that she could, eventually, take anything I gave her, but her natural enthusiasm gave way to concern for her body once I went past ten or eleven inches. Nell would be tricky—for fucking her pussy or a blowjob, I figured that somewhere around eight and a half inches was probably ideal, but for going at her tits it would be better to go twice that or even larger, which would mean adding in memory magic to make her forget the discrepancy.
With Meghan, a little bit larger than what I still thought of as my new default-size was just right—she was a woman with an exclusive talent, so the measure was all about tailoring this hot dog to be the perfectly snug match for her undulating roll. I cast the spell to make myself that, completely hard again from remembering what it felt like to have her vibrating all around me, her sentient tunnel wrenching cum right out of my balls.
When I slowed along the lonely stretch of road leading to the chalet, I saw Meghan’s car parked halfway into a pile of cleared snow. Inside, the lights were on behind the curtained windows, but something was different. The lighting looked warm and cozy, but maybe she had changed the position of the lamps, or screwed different bulbs into the sockets, I touched the car horn to alert her that I’d arrived, and at the front door I stomped my shoes, clearing off snow. When I entered, there wasn’t anyone there.
Cameras were, though. One was obvious—it was a professional video camera on a heavy-duty tripod near the bar area, the lens pointed at the couch. When I glanced at the stairway, figuring Meghan had to be up in the loft, I spotted another camera, smaller and clamped to wood trim at ceiling level. It, too, was pointed at the couch, and it was obvious that the lighting had been changed to illuminate that same place.
A well-lighted space with video cameras trained upon it—ever since reading Rock’s thoughts on how, without exercising extreme caution, I could unknowingly leave an evidence trail of my spell-a-porting, cameras made me nervous. I hadn’t yet used his suggestion of concealing my face when instantaneously traveling, so I was confused when I spied a gold-colored mask propped upon a throw pillow on my sofa. How could she know I’d want that?
“Meghan?”
“Strip naked and get comfortable on the couch!” she half-shouted from up above. “And put on your mask and make it tight, no cheating!”
The wood stove was going strong, so it felt good to undress, getting completely naked. I picked up the mask and surveyed its design; it was a textured gold harlequin mask that would fit over my cheeks and most of my nose, going up and back enough to cover all but the lower-back of my head. Oddly, there were eye-plugs, hinged and joined at a center-point between the eyebrows, intended to turn the mask into an elaborate blindfold. This must be what she had meant about no cheating—the mask would conceal my identity in any photographs or video footage, but it would also keep me from witnessing her latest cosplay inspiration until the moment she wanted it revealed.
I didn’t think the cameras were on yet, but if they were, they would record my cock twitching with anticipation. I had never asked Meghan where the idea had come from to dress herself up in elaborate costumes for me—I was pretty sure she had teased my father for years with racy lingerie, but I had never seen any evidence that she’d gone the cosplay route with him. She could be a real actress when she wanted to, but the truth was this—with her worked-out body being so hot, and being the owner of what might be the most sensational pussy on earth, she could dress any which way and just read a book, and I’d want to fuck her for hours.
I sat on the couch and molded the mask to my face, adjusting the two bands at the back to make it fit snugly. Lowering the eye-plugs until they snapped in place, I said: “Okay, I can’t see a damned thing!”
Heavy footfalls above. “Be ready to be amazed,” my stepmother purred from the top of the stairs. “This is no ordinary night, you know. This is the night when all of our secrets come out.”
I chuckled, knowing there was no chance of that. She slowly stomped down the stairs, each footfall so forceful that it seemed like the whole house vibrated. This had to be a part of her persona tonight—it sounded to me like her feet were bare, no heels, and those footfalls really were intense, testing the strength of the carpentry that had fashioned those steps.
There were so many things I could do while just sitting there awaiting the big reveal—I could cast the impulse spell on Meghan to sense or affect her sexual state, and I could cast the memory spell to sift through every remembered moment since she’d entered the chalet, getting a clear picture of what was coming. But why ruin the element of surprise? I was my stepmother’s extra-marital fuck-toy tonight, and concocting elaborate sex fantasy was all about one thing for her—gifting me with a fresh and unique experience while she super-fucked my ever-hard cock.
I could smell her excitement even before she’d gotten to the bottom of the stairs, her presence perfuming the warm air with additional heat. I heard a couple of light taps that I couldn’t identify, and I thought she might have tip-toed past the couch to activate the camera on the tripod. But then the floor and couch violently shook: Meghan was still to my right, pounding forward to a spot right in front of me. She smelled different somehow, more pungent or stronger, or…
Or it wasn’t only Meghan’s heat I was inhaling; there was someone else with her, also dripping. My cock moved in response to that thought and Meghan drew in a quick breath, as did someone else. I couldn’t help myself—I needed to know if Meghan had somehow coerced Nancy into joining us for tonight’s fuck-fest. I cast the impulse spell on Meghan and opened my awareness to the other, and I was right that it was familiar but wrong in every other way. It was…
“Open your eye-holes but keep the mask on, puny human.”
I thought I knew what I was going to see before having my sight restored, though it made no sense. A transformed Meghan, of course, but also Lila. While drawing in a short gasp of surprise I cast the impulse spell on her, too, and then I lifted the mask-hinge that had me blind.
“Holllyyy…”
Meghan stood close, clenched fists on her hips. Her physique had never looked more powerful, more exquisitely sculpted, which was easy to see when she wore nothing but a pair of tattered purple short-shorts, that looked like a lion had grabbed hold at the crotch to tear out a jagged opening. Through that ragged hole her pussy glistened, the reddened pink of it all the more jarring when the rest of her body was painted or stained green. Her hair, her face and lips, her body from head to toe, even her toenails—all green on the outside, with only that entrance to the inside of her body showing the color of hot sex.
I gulped, amazed, as she said, “Say hello to The Incredible MILF.”
I might have laughed, only the surge of excitement in my balls made me wince instead. And my eyes might have remained transfixed on my stepmother’s painted body—good God she was looking full of vitality these days, green skin or not—only my eyes were already sliding to her left, where Lila stood, also in costume.
In a voice thick with lust, I croaked out: “And you are?”
“Today and always, I’m PussyWhip, and I’m incredible, too. All three of us are, and it’s high time we stop pretending about that.”
Lila’s costume was much more elaborate than Meghan’s—she was largely naked, too, in the way of areas of bare flesh showing between criss-crossed bands of some stretchy black fabric. Strategic areas like her breasts and pussy were completely exposed, while everywhere else the beauty of her physique was highlighted by that interplay of what was essentially shrink-wrapped, the next area of flesh and muscle on full view. She wore a mask somewhat similar to mine in design, but shiny black, pulled tight to cover the upper half of her head while leaving her lips free to do anything they wanted. On her feet were pointed black boots, while held tightly in her right hand, with the length of it dangling to brush the floor, was a coiled black whip.
I honestly couldn’t say which woman was sexier—standing together, and even with the mask and Meghan turned green, you could tell they were mother and daughter from the similarities of their features. I thought Lila must have added some additional muscle, too; she still had that ultra-leggy dancer-body thing going, but she appeared to be more sturdy and pumped than before, like she’d eaten some of the Popeye spinach that must comprise the whole of Meghan’s diet. Lila’s tits had gotten fuller, too, and I couldn’t tell whether it was magic or the uplift of the strip of black material passing beneath them that had them looking so much like flesh-torpedoes, surging straight out.
But the main point might be this—how had it come about that they were both here, in an organized way, to fuck me? Lila had dropped out of school to move to New York City, and unless she, too, had the ability to spell-a-port, forty-five minutes was nowhere close to enough of a heads-up for her to have traveled here. Beyond that, they had obviously shared the news that they each had a sexual history with me. I hadn’t wiped out a single memory with either one of them, so I’d left that door open, and here they were, partnering behind my back as collaborators.
“Look at me,” Meghan said, in a voice that demanded compliance.
Looking at my stepmother in her green skin was the easiest thing on earth, as long as you didn’t mind having a throbbing erection. She stepped closer, feet planted wide so she was almost straddling my knees, and those thighs, those insane quads—if a much younger Rock had thought my stepmother’s legs looked like they could crush a car back then, what would he say now? She was the embodiment of strength colliding with voluptuous beauty, and beautiful as she was, it was strength that was winning out. I didn’t believe she could tear my chalet apart with her bare hands, but she sure looked like she could.
“Show us your power,” she said.
“My power?” I asked, almost certain I could see the beginnings of flesh-colored trails of excitement, provided a challenge to the make-up job between her thighs. If she leaked much more, a bit of pink skin might make an appearance at the bottom of her shorts.
My cock was throbbing, visibly pulsing; everything that was happening was exciting as hell, but underneath all of that I felt some nervousness. This wasn’t just another of Meghan’s role-playing games with Lila somehow added as an additional treat; something had changed.
“Show us your power!” Lila snapped, and in a flash her whip snapped, too, right above my head. I flinched instinctively, and wondered—since when could Lila wield a whip with the precision of a circus performer?
“I said look at me!” Meghan repeated, taking my chin into her hand to force the issue. She didn’t tilt my head back to stare down at me—she pointed my face right at her pussy. “You know some of what I can do, but that was back before… Look at it. Look at it!”
I looked where she insisted I look, and blinked, momentarily disbelieving, when I saw movement there. Her shorts were being held together, barely, by a metal button—the zipper that must have been there at one time was gone, a casualty of however the garment’s crotch had been obliterated. That area was now an irregular almond-shaped hole with jagged cloth edges, roughly framing Meghan’s bare pussy. And her pussy, unnaturally beautiful in design with its prodigious clitoris… Her pussy was moving, her labia visibly churning, or…
“Remember when I said we were sex freaks?” she asked. “Me with my talents, and you, able to keep yourself hard? And then to find out that PussyWhip is also changing, becoming, the rate of change increasing every day. We don’t know how it happened—was three-quarters of our family abducted by a UFO? Experimented upon without our knowledge? But it doesn’t matter. We’re all unnaturally gifted. Special. I thought I knew just how special you are, but you were holding back on me, pretending you can stay hard and that’s it. You were hiding your other talents from me, but no more. Tonight, we show one another just how incredible we’ve become.”
The woman’s vagina, viscous and aromatic, looked like it was alive, like her pussy had been infused with genetic material from some family of sea creatures. With all of her natural beauty and perfected female musculature, and even the green make-up to turn herself into a superbly-realized cosplay icon, it was here, between her legs, where the true miracle resided. I had aimed magic there to make it be even more, and here were the results, Meghan’s already-amazing pussy turned into something from a carnival sideshow, likely to provide its own thrill ride.
Staring where I was, I didn’t notice Meghan turn her head towards Lila just before she said, “Throw it to me.” With a flip of my stepsister’s arm something sailed through the air and Meghan caught it. Holding it out for me to see, she told me it was an ordinary bar of lavender soap, which was exactly what it looked and smelled like.
I turned my head briefly as Lila appeared on the couch to my left, holding her iPhone and panning past me to zero in on Meghan’s pussy. It was being filmed, whatever Meghan was about to do.
“Land or water?” she asked, unlocking her knees to slightly spread her legs wider, slowly inserting the soap inside her pussy.
Her question made absolutely no sense to me, but having to make a choice I replied, “Water.”
She nodded, and the muscles of her abdomen lightly rippled. For a few seconds her face became a study in concentration, like someone meditating with opened eyes. Then, no more than twenty seconds after it had gone in, she cupped her hands in front of her pussy, and caught the soap as it popped out.
My mouth hung open when she displayed it. It had gone inside her as a featureless green-white oval bar; what had come out was in the shape of a dolphin, with gracefully curving fins and even carved eyes. And, as she tipped her hands for me to see, a blowhole.
“Good God…”
“Grow your cock,” Lila said, back on her feet, her phone trained on my groin. I took my eyes off the evidence of the magic dolphin trick to look her way and her nipples… Jesus Christ on a motorbike, they had grown in width and length, and they were moving, too.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, and seeing how stunned I was, she smiled and held her phone out at arms’ length, turned to film what her nipples were doing.
I had made these things happen. I’d probably never know when in her life Lila had first been touched by magic—had it been lying mostly dormant, or was it that she was young and just hadn’t explored what she was capable of? But now, through rheostat magic, I had put what was inside both women on steroids, turning them into what they were now, incredibly gifted sex freaks like Meghan had said.
“Grow your co-ck,” Lila repeated, sing-songing the words in the tone of an impatient threat. “You did it once before, in your bedroom. Did you think I’d fucking forget a thing like that?”
With her hooded eyes looking fierce, she spread her legs slightly, and keeping her eyes on mine, she grinned. Angling her phone into pussy-selfie position, she placed the handle of her whip against her opening, and like the mouth of a fish devouring a meal, her most-private anatomy reached out at lightning speed, sucking the whip handle in. Then, with no warning and no motion at all from any other part of her body, the whip snapped in the air again, its frayed tip striking the air just inches from my forehead.
“Grow it!” Lila shouted, the cunt-gripped whip snapping again, even closer.
I felt my blood begin to boil, or maybe it was my cum, held inside too long after being in-lust with too many women. I thought: Lila could have forgotten how I’d grown my cock while fucking her that one time—she’d been so fevered that it wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d registered almost everything as the workings of a distorted, sex-twisted mind. But no, she had remembered, and I’d let her remember because some little voice in my head had said to leave well enough alone, just let nature take its course.
But then, like a sexual-magical schizophrenic, I’d done the exact opposite of that, by messing with all that was unnatural in these women, upping the intensity of the strange magic inside them. The Incredible MILF and PussyWhip—with anyone else the costumes and names could be chalked-up as creative and sexy role-playing, mother and daughter having some good hot fun. But standing in front of me were women with the equivalent of real sexual superpowers—and jeezus, I had cast that same generalized more onto Nell’s tits!
The whip snapped again, just barely impacting the mask concealing my identity, and something like a fury arose in me. It wasn’t anger about being struck; it was more like I could hear a series of loud snaps inside my soul, the sound of locks popping open and shackles falling away. These women, my family, had been part of that damned book’s plan, and together we had given them extraordinary sexual abilities. Whether that had always been a part of a grand plan, or it was another stupid mistake of mine that would have consequences down the line, I didn’t care. I guessed I could dial their magic down later on but fuck that—they didn’t know the why of it, but they knew they had become different, enhanced, and they hardly seemed to be running from it. It had somehow happened, and they believed I was like them, also special.
Only I wasn’t like them. I was more, because my magic wasn’t just mine; I could make it bloom inside them. I had impulse-access to both of them, and before doing or saying anything else I cast the rheostat spell on them, too, adding to my influence.
“I think it was a UFO,” I said, using what they were open to. “I never told you, but I have these dim memories, and strange dreams some nights…”
Lila, always ready to take a swing at anything unconventional, didn’t even need an impulse-nudge to sign on. “I knew it!” she said, puffing up, which made her tits jut out even more.
Maybe, if it mattered enough to make the effort, I could try to implant alien abduction memories into them, but for now they were demanding to see a demonstration of how much I’d been changed. I looked at Lila’s enhanced nipples and the whip protruding from inside her pussy, and then straight into the maw of Meghan’s churning sculptor of a cunt, and I said: “You really want to know how much of a sex-freak I’ve become?”
I didn’t need them to answer, casting the spell on my cock and making it grow, every beat of my heart pumping it fuller and thicker. As they locked-on, witnessing the miracle, I raised the bar on their attraction magic wayyy high, Meghan first and then Lila, both women gasping at the sudden change as pure wanting mega-spiked inside them, causing all kinds of psychological and physiological reactions. Lila cried out, “I knew it!” again, and ditched her phone in a forward rush to grab onto my erection and feel the magic growth in her hands. Meanwhile, Meghan’s pussy had stopped its churning, which looked less like a creature at rest, and more like the stillness of a predator just before it strikes.
“Raahhh!” she shouted, and I thought that was the language of her pussy telling Lila to let go or she’d make her surrender my cock. But before I could really register that it had happened, there were two sounds, a soft whump and a loud thwack, and there were cotton particles in the air all around. I grasped what had happened—Meghan had angled her pussy away from my face and somehow her shorts had exploded away, the button projectile-hitting something, probably the wall, Meghan’s feet were on the couch now, her legs spread super-wide above my growing pole, and with a purposeful collapse of her haunches she went down hard and I was in, completely.
I knew instantaneously that she felt different than before, and it wasn’t just my size. But before I could assess the change she decided to immediately undulate around the length of me, at a ridiculous speed that had me losing my load in just a few seconds, my twisting mouth spitting out nonsense sounds from the utter stupefaction.
“My turn!” came Lila’s voice, with the black line of the whip around her mother’s waist, pulling her away from my dick.
I hadn’t even had time to fuck with Meghan’s clit, and now I couldn’t even see my stepmother, as Lila performed her own leap-squat into my lap, shoving a torpedo-tit into my face. I instinctively sucked on the big hard nipple in my mouth while a hand grabbed my cock to line it up with her pussy, and with one up and way down movement similar to her mother’s she had me mostly buried inside.
“Ohhhhh!” she sighed, and then pushed against me with her arms, gaining upper body separation so she could look me in the eye. “I love you! I love fucking you!” Lila gushed, and then, in a mumble of somewhat disjointed words as she adjusted herself to line me up the way she wanted, she told me that Meghan had been training her for the past two weeks, getting her strong inside, unlocking her own special talents.
“And they’re speeding up!” she boasted. “Four days ago I could barely aim that whip, but now it’s like I’ve done it all my life!”
I could feel something of the quality of her evolution for myself, the muscles inside Lila’s tunnel coming alive, probing at my mass. “Oh God, you…” I got out, the words disappearing as she revved her engines.
Her pussy felt different than Meghan’s, of course, less muscular somehow but more slippery. But those distinctions were tiny compared to the greater reality that there were now two magic-blessed vaginas under this roof, determined to go tag-team on me. Lila didn’t yet have the light-speed that Meghan had just demonstrated, but the talents of the mother were definitely inside her daughter, and when Lila grinned, just before burying my face into her boobs again, I knew I was in for it.
Only I wasn’t going to be into it in this passive way, being an unmoving dick while they took turns putting my meat into their blenders. I started with Lila’s clit, making it go crazy, which made her go crazy. Her control of her internal muscles went all wonky; they didn’t stop firing but there was no pattern, her efforts towards a smoothly running machine turned into one that randomly clenched and belched. I slowly got a rhythm of my own going, stroking in and out of my stepsister while feeling her getting wetter and wetter around me, not so much with her tits pressed into my face now as her needing to fall onto me for physical support.
I buzzed her clitoris even more, feeling everything inside her body aligning for blast-off, and with enough psychic amping the whole couch shook, the jolts inside her igniting. I pumped harder into her hot flood and then I was spurting again, Lila’s entire body quaking against me.
My eyelids had shut with her boobs pressed against them, so I didn’t see whether my cumsplosion jettisoned her away or whether Meghan pulled her off, but the next thing I knew Lila was on the floor and I was shooting cum into Meghan’s mouth. I immediately went inside her clit and got her quaking, too, and somehow we worked ourselves into a position where she was on her elbows and knees on the length of the couch, her pussy raised high for me to fuck doggy-style. I went really slow at first—I hadn’t made myself Stacy-fetish huge but I was pretty fucking massive, way more than I’d ever pictured for Meghan. She surprised me, though—she kept saying, “More!”, and, “Harder! Faster!”, followed by, “I can take anything!”
I believed her and I put her to the test, growing myself even more while slapping my front against her ass, having no idea how her anatomy could be absorbing so much but going with it, growing myself in there even more, Meghan calling out, “Yes! Yes!”, encouraging me to try to obliterate her cunt. She roared her approval as the couch shook, bounced, and then she switched on her interior jets and it was like thrusting into an undulating membranous food processor. I knew I was going to cum again any second and I spiked her clit like crazy, not holding back there, too, and Meghan cried out, both of us cumming, our groans accompanied by an ear-splitting crack, and then my body falling backwards with Meghan, dick-attached, falling with me.
We were on the floor and I didn’t even know what direction I was facing for a few seconds. I craned my neck past Meghan’s shoulders and head and saw what must have happened—she’d been gripping the side of the couch with her hands and had wrenched it so hard with her orgasms, forcefully enough that the frame had cracked in half where we’d been fucking, dumping us off its sunken middle.
I placed my hands against my stepmother’s muscled green back and leveraged my cock out of her, and with an effort I stood, and surveyed the scene. Meghan was sprawled forward at my feet, with her inner thighs returning to a more familiar color due to the run-off from our fluids, while Lila lay in a heap closer the stove, the line of her black whip tracing a shape on the floor that looked a lot like the letter “C”.
“C” for cameras, I thought, remembering them by seeing them, suspecting that everything that had happened so far had been documented for reasons not yet explained. I felt an involuntary shudder, but then I smiled.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I asked the two costumed women decorating my floor, confident in my mask’s ability to hide my identity if there ever turned out to be an audience for the bizarre ficklest that was happening here. And confident in my cock, to keep going for hours.
Meghan was on her feet in about half a second, and the way her eyes seethed with continued lust, I thought I probably should have kept that taunting tone out of my voice.
Lila remained on the floor, but her right hand reached out for the handle of her whip, and once she had it in her grip she was on her feet, too. She held the handle loosely in the flat of her hand, just inches from her pussy, and in a thwick of motion I couldn’t hope to follow, the whip handle was inside her pussy again.
“Tie his feet,” Meghan said, and in a flash the whip shot out and it was wrapped around my ankles.
With the shock of it I lost my balance and started to topple sideways, but Meghan’s casually outstretched arm kept me from falling.
“I hope you didn’t have any other plans tonight,” she said, spinning me like a top towards her, the motion ending when my oversized cock whacked her hard in the ass.
I did have other plans, actually, as I’d thought I’d spell myself back to Boca for another go at Stacy with this same monster dick. I looked down at the coiled whip and felt no distress at all, knowing I couldn’t really be held captive if I didn’t want to be. Just a few quick syllables and I could be standing on the other side of the room, leaving that whip could around empty air, or I could be in my bedroom in Florida, or a bunch of other places.
But I wasn’t ready to let Meghan and Lila in on that secret yet. And come on, why not stay and see which of us ran out of stamina first? It wouldn’t be Meghan; I was sure of that, and something told me it wouldn’t be Lila, either. My cock could go forever, which left…
Good thing Stacy and I would technically be on vacation tomorrow, because I might need a few beers’ worth of medication, and a nap.