The dinner party had been a wonderful idea. All of Amanda was into it.
The part of her that was increasingly concerned and flummoxed revelled in the normalcy of it. Cleaning up the cummy bathroom, airing the place out. Replacing sex fug with the outdoor scent of farms and crops and the soil. And she was getting more and more into elaborate cooking, glazing roasts and making soups. Although, in honesty, she was mostly dumping out bags of caloric crisps into paper bowls.
Joseph’s new, bulky physique didn’t fit in his old clothes. So she had gone shopping for him, returning laden with stone-washed denim, washed t-shirts, western shirts. He looked like a cowboy-engineer, and was pure man. She’d thought about letting him rope her. A very fun thought.
It was the perfect opportunity to wear a glittery champagne-colored mini-dress. It had a slutty set of cuts around her thighs.
It didn’t really surprise Amanda that both friends wore more or less the same whore gear. Chloe especially was poured, with difficulty, into a green satin number. She still had a touch of hippie in her hair, which was curly and loose. The rest of her was bursting out, overripe. Her husband still wore his old polo shirts, and Amanda expected to see tear-lines on the sleeves. Justine was the most demure. Her short dress was black. They all drank the overly pink wine and chit-chatted around the table.
“Are all of you boys on the job two hundred pounds of muscle?” Justine said. They were all more or less flirting in a circle, eye-fucking indiscriminately. Matt especially just admired Amanda’s tits. It was an interesting idea.
“We’ve slowed down at work,” Thomas explained. He was bald, and seemed to have overcompensated—his chest was etched with muscle. “So plenty of time to get ripped. Its fun.”
“Look at you boys, actually putting your calories to use,” Justine said. She had her eyes on Joseph. Amanda was quietly confident he was the best-looking guy there. And almost definitely had the biggest dick. “We’ve just been putting them wherever we can.”
“Nonsense,” Matt said. His eyes traced Amanda’s bustline. “I think you’re absolutely doing fine with them. You’re getting ready for winter.”
Was it nearly winter? Who the hell knew. Amanda refilled everyone’s glass. She’d seen Hiram down at the supermarket while buying alcohol, and wondered if Beth was strapping a condom on his dick. It seemed such a waste. She had hesitated before swallowing her birth control, that morning. She’d had some pretty hot dreams about Joseph’s seed.
“I can hibernate better than you two,” Chloe said. She giggled. A lot of her jiggled. She was much, much bigger, all over. It had all been transformed into perfect curves.
“When is your first litter coming in?” Justine said.
Ah, pregnancy. The tension level rose. And why not have babies? They were all married, all about that age, none of the girls had anything better to do. Why not get bred? Amanda had seen a bunch of growing bellies that day and had an unexpected pang. Why not her? What the hell else was she good for? What else were girls FOR?
“Not much else to do,” she said, trying to change the subject. “Joseph was saying the cell signals can’t even get through the interference the wheat puts out.” Or something, the problem with getting information out of Joseph was that the subsequent blowjob tended to blow it back out. Wheat definitely played some kind of a role.
But Justine was on the subject. She kept drooling. It was not really the adult ambience Amanda was going for, her friend slurping all the time. True, Justine’s lips, currently outlined in bright pink nearly-wax lipstick, were very heavy. But still. “You might as well,” she said to Chloe. “Matt told me the project got really delayed. We’re here for the long haul.” She winked at nobody. “I mean, some of us are.”
Amanda felt ice settle on her heart. She swiveled to Joseph. He’d been telling her—soon, soon. Practically any week now. But—long haul? She was running out of underpants that fit and going bare was a bit too much. Joseph was impassive. He was staring at Chloe. Amanda wasn’t really into that, either.
There was silence at the table. The men glared at Matt.
“Dinner is great,” he managed.
Amanda blushed. She WAS really thrilled with herself. She had served some of the store’s homemade chex mix, which was super-duper salty and good, also their cheese platter with the charcut—char—the meats. Then a bunch of their pickles which she had stuck toothpicks into. Rolls with lots and lots and lots of butter, a single carrot in case anyone wanted vegetables, and then the roast. The roast was enormous, had barely fit inside the entire oven, and was kinda rare in the middle. But the glaze she had put fifteen coats of on was sugar-sweet and really delicious, so they were all eating that. It wasn’t clear what kind of meat it was, underneath the coats of sauce.
Everyone murmured that it was good. Chloe, all done with her chex mix, and halfway done with her husband’s, was the truest compliment of all.
“We saw that building manager guy again, fucking his wife,” Justine broke in, abruptly. “His name is Marshall, did you know that?”
“What were you doing?” Amanda said. “Sneaking around too?”
“Finding a room we hadn’t fucked in yet,” Justine said. There was a pause while the couples readjusted their realities. Okay, they were just gonna talk about fucking. “You know that there’s two whole floors blocked off? We were trying to find a way in. Yeah. Three and four. And they’re like, one floor.”
“YOU were trying to find a way in,” Matt grumbled.
“The blonde girl?” Chloe said. She was half-blonde herself. And Amanda was getting mighty summery.
Justine pointed a fork at her. “You bet your sweet bippy the blonde girl. She’s where Matt and I got the idea for the Condo Challenge. He was on the roof again. AND, and this is really where I’m going, he wasn’t alone. Some of the swim team were up there too.”
This was getting juicy, and Amanda was feeling it. It was aggravating, how little it took to get her wet.
“He was fucking someone’s spouse? Who?” Joseph said, leaning over the table.
“Not fucking them. They were watching. I don’t blame them because that cock is like a horse transplant. But they were RIGHT up against it. I’m sure they were getting face splatter. And they looked entranced by it. Like I’d be worried about friction burns if I was them, he was looking to start a fire.”
“Who were the girls?” Thomas said.
“They all look basically the same,” Justine said, shrugging. It was true. Amanda had made a trip down there yester—two day—at some time in the recent past. Had every girl had such bleached-blonde hair? They were all shining yellow suns, with perfect tans and excellent tits and cheerful attitudes. Maybe it was chlorine? Her own hair had taken another turn for the yellow after the trip, and she had just been NEAR the pool.
“I brought dessert,” Chloe said. She held up a baggie chock-ful of close-packed greenery.
Soon enough they were high and happy and lazing about on the couch. The Farm Report gently played on the big screen. All the girls were wrapped in the arms of their significant others and getting fondled.
Amanda was pretty sure it was as happy as she’d ever been. She felt a real joy—surrounded by friends, happily stoned, getting felt up by her beloved husband, her body wet and hot. It wasn’t clear at all if she could feel any better, chemically and hormonally. And to make things better, they were definitely about to fuck each other.
She felt a tiny, nagging concern about it, but it was easily drowned with wine and pot. Yes, sure, she was definitely about to swap partners and suck on some other dicks. And her husband was absolutely going to put the wood to Justine and Chloe. But that was fine, it was just a sign of how strong their marriage was. It was such a good relationship she could watch her S.O. ram into Justine until the girl passed out, and just feel happy for both of them. And he could watch her suck on Thomas’ cock until his wife was well-coated with other men’s sperm. It would be good for them.
It was fun to watch the others. The new, big girl Chloe was just slathered all over Thomas, drowning him in ass and titties. His hand was up her skirt and then just lost down there. Justine was already nearly fucking Matt, her ass beating a steady drum on his crotch. Amanda herself had her tits out in front of everyone. She looked down at them. They were so big, so hot.
She could sense how the near future would go. Everyone had been making eyes at each other. Amanda was reasonably sure she was going to start by giving Matt a thorough blowjob, maybe in conjunction with Justine. Then they’d probably eat each other out while Chloe got it hard and fast from a few boys. After that, who could say? They had all night. Heck, apparently they had years and years, if Matt was right.
The volume was off, but she was pretty sure she knew what the farm boys were saying. Something about corn.
The doorbell rang, again and again and again. It took a long time to penetrate into the three couples, sex-fogged and dumb-horny. It took Amanda even longer to stagger over to the door. Nothing seemed particularly real. Was she really about to break her solemn wedding vows not once, but twice, and then maybe a dozen times that night? Who the fuck was ringing the god damn doorbell right before she got laid?
She opened it up. Beth stood there, tear-soaked, sobbing, her tits bouncing with the sniffles. “Hiram kicked me out,” she said, and walked inside, before Amanda had the presence of mind to slam the door in her face.
Their house guest was still sniffling to herself over on the couch.
Amanda and Joseph sat in silence at the kitchen table. The place was still littered with last night’s dinner party. Evidence of having a very good time. Someone had left their underpants on the floor, in the rush to leave. A room temperature box of wine, the uneaten snacks, not that there were so many of those.
She had a low, pounding headache and felt absolutely terrible. Amanda was going through all kinds of withdrawal. Sobering up, coming down, and most of all, no sexual activity at all for the past ten hours. As much as she had promised herself she’d eventually go without, going so many hours without creamy goodness in her mouth made her antsy, distracted, and miserable. She tried to will herself over it.
Joseph was implacable and dully angry. He sipped at coffee, dressed in his work clothes and ready to go. She could feel his displeasure radiating off of him.
“She NEEDS to stay,” Amanda insisted.
“Because this is your fault?” Joseph said.
“Because it’s the right thing to do! And because it’s my fault,” Amanda was ready to make almost any concession to make Joseph less unhappy. His displeasure made her feel worst of all. She was being a bad wife.
They both looked over at Beth, who had spent most of the night blubbering on their couch. She wore one of Amanda’s t-shirts, an old one. Her enormous tits tented them all the way out. Her wobbling boobs during each crying jag would’ve been funny if they weren’t so sad.
“I’m gonna catch crap over this,” Joseph predicted. “We’re not supposed to bother people in town. We’re supposed to get the job done. Breaking up people’s marriages, that’s not in the FUCKING BLUEPRINTS, Amanda.”
“Well, we live here, in this town, where you brought us,” Amanda said. The anger made her feel better. It struck her that this was their longest conversation in forever. Usually by now she was licking her lips, on her knees. “And this 19 year old asked me for a condom, because she didn’t want to get pregnant. That is IT. And you’re mad at me for giving her one? I thought you were a FEMINIST!”
Joseph set his jaw. The word unsettled them both. Right, right. They were a young, idealistic couple. They could remember indignant discussions about politics. They’d even gone to a few rallies together. Right? Joseph’s eyes strayed to Beth’s tits. He softened.
“Alright.” he said. “She can stay. For now.”
Amanda flooded with gratitude. He supported her! She so desperately wanted him to be happy. Amanda knew that this was going to cost her big time. All the cocksucking and wifely play-acting up to this point was nothing. If he wanted her ass, it was his. If he wanted her wet and ready, she’d be wet and ready. The condo had to be spotless, dinner ready on the table, all of his manly needs tended to with total dedication. She could do it. She WOULD do it.
“I have to get going,” Joseph said. “I’m late.” He stood up.
“Do you want to…?” Amanda jerked her head to the bathroom. She could give him some quick head. Some stress relief. It bothered her to think of him out there with a full load of cum.
Joseph shrugged. “No, I should go.” he gave her a quick kiss. That startled her too. Right, kissing. When had they stopped kissing? Even Beth had stopped sobbing to look.
Out her husband went, and Amanda turned, frustrated, upset, extremely horny, to see what she could do about her visitor.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble,” Beth whispered.
Everyone in the town knew, and everyone was mad.
It was enormously draining on the trio. Amanda had offered a trip into town, and thrown in new panty purchases as an incentive. Even so, Chloe and Justine had accepted with clear reservations.
The three of them lumbered down the sidewalk, beaten down by a surprisingly hot sun. It was too hot, and Amanda was feeling the downside of all of her new curves. Her tits drooled sweat, and her ass chafed against the yoga pants she had forced them into. Chloe barely wore anything, in a spangled-blue bikini top and jean cutoffs, and she still looked overheated. Justine’s boobs were sopping wet. Humidity made all three edgy, moist, unhappy.
“See, they’re just stopping to look at us,” Chloe complained steadily. Amanda imagined a trail of sweat drops in their wake.
“Lets just… get inside,” Amanda said. She vaguely picked at her underpants. They kept riding up into her slit, which was a red-hot and needy mess. She hadn’t gotten fucked in something like two days. It was madness. Her entire body felt angry at her. All she had to do, REALLY had to do, was get fucked, and she’d screwed that up.
“To have people inside stare at us? And there’s no air conditioning in this entire town,” Chloe continued complaining.
“I think the best way to cool down is to go back to the condos, find Beth, extract her to the loving arms of her husband, and then feel the cooling breezes wash over us,” Justine said. She heaved, the effort of the speech too much. “ITS SO FUCKING HOT! I’ve got half my undies up my snatch and it doesn’t feel like you’d hope.”
Across the street a trio of Moms came to a halt. They all glared over at Amanda’s team. They seemed to be cool and calm, despite their own oversized titties and sun-collecting backsides. Amanda tried to glare back and wilted.
“No. We’re supporting her. We got her into this,” Amanda insisted.
“Because we gave her some condoms?” Chloe groaned. “Amanda, come on. Have you seen her husband? Hiram? That guy? I bet he has a foot and a half of dick in there. He’s magnificent. She should be honored he’d put a baby in her. He could probably do it from a mile away.”
“Chloe, please,” Amanda said. But she had a point. It was harder and harder for her to figure what exactly Beth’s problem was. If Joseph said he wanted to have a baby she was 70% sure she’d blurble “fill ’er up!” and back onto him. Maybe 80%. She tried to hold on to the many reasons why not—her career, her… career. Stuff like that. Strollers kept passing by, when her eyes were open, and when they were shut.
“Lets just collect our undies,” Justine said. She looked the most tired out of all of them. Chloe was all tits and ass and attitude but Justine occasionally seemed—scared. “All mine are destroyed. The pair I’m wearing is disappearing up my pussy. My body is fuckin absorbing it. I’m gonna wear the new ones out of the store.”
It was harder for them to walk down a sidewalk. Everything about it was more demanding. They had curves, now, which meant each step was a sashay, bits and parts wobbling and swinging around. Without even considering it they were more or less walking in ass-unison, three bubble rears keeping time. Maintaining a steady pace with three-inch heels required attention to just walking forwards. Amanda felt her boobs wobble. That was another new thing, trying to anticipate where her tits would wobble.
And that was before all the so-many-additional distractions. It was impossible to keep a good thought in her head before something frizzled against it. The feel of her nipples rubbing against her shirt. The rub of her slit against her panties, the many, many sweat streaks running down all parts of her. Even the useless push of her cell phone against her butt, when she still wore jeans, set off tiny tingles all throughout her rear. And the constant worry—she should be home, she should be cooking dinner, she should be waiting for Joseph.
She should be a good, pregnant wife.
It didn’t help that, horny and anxious, Amanda had lost a war with herself and shaved her pussy completely bare. She wasn’t even sure if Joseph would like it. But she was running out of things to do to make up for the big, disruptive, Beth-shaped hole in their relationship.
“Do you think we’ll ever get cell service?” she said, suddenly. One of those odd flashes of concern. She fixed on it. Right, her cell phone.
“Matt said there’s some sort of city ordinance or whatever,” Justine said, dully. “Something about the airwaves have to be fresh and clear. I don’t know. Whatever. I guess we can write letters or something. Lets just get these undies. I just…” she glanced back at the glaring women. They were still being watched. “Lets get back to the apartments.”
They went inside one of the many, many lingerie stores. They were all basically the same—cheap pink on the walls, display racks in the center of the floor. There was no advertising, not even any mirrors. Just large mounds of cheap and sexy panties for a population that needed them in bulk. Amanda couldn’t even remember what size she was. It didn’t matter.
The clerk was a man, another one of the too-young cohort that should’ve been off at college. He could’ve been Hiram’s brother. Maybe he was. He gave them the standard dirty look.
“Yes, its us, the stupid sluts that convinced Beth to sin, hello,” Amanda said. She gave the boy a tired wave.
“We know,” the boy said.
The threesome looked around for someone else. We?
“Pastor Flynn and the other residents of town,” the boy translated. He spoke slowly, and it was a relief. Amanda barely had the brain processing for her newly shaven clit, much less people speaking in metaphors.
“And what did Pastor Flynn and the other residents in town say?” Amanda said.
“That you and Beth will come around and see the light, and we should believe in the Lord,” the boy said. He wore a nametag, although Amanda couldn’t see why. Everyone in town knew each other. It read “Asher.”
“Lets just grab and go. I’m dehydrated,” Justine said. She dumped a big pile of underpants on the counter, from a wad she’d scooped up. There was no need to sort through for stuff sexy and lacy and tight. They were all sexy and lacy and tight. The first time Amanda had broken through a pair she’d gone on an embarrassed, paradoxical food binge. Now ripping through undies was just part of sex. “Ring ’em up, Mr. Asher. And one pair is on my good pal Mandy.”
He frowned again at the trio, two of whom were twirling their hair. Justine blew a big obnoxious bubble-gum bubble. Amanda had seen the stuff at the supermarket checkout. It smelled super sweet. Her mouth started to water.
“Doesn’t work,” Asher said, handing Justine’s card back.
Both her and Chloe turned. Justine’s bubble deflated, slowly. She stood still, with the defeated look that meant: that wasn’t an accident. She was flat fucking broke.
“I’ll get them all,” Amanda offered, handing her own over. She hadn’t been super great at math lately, but she’d done well not getting that extra slab of bacon at the store, and she couldn’t’ve bought more than a dozen pairs of cute skirts last week.
“Nope,” Asher said, studying the display. Amanda tried not to look at the screen The last time she’d tried to look at the computer monitor it’d given her a horrible headache, within seconds. Something about frequencies or whatever.
So that was it, then. She was cashed out.
Amanda tried to cope with the thought. There was no way around it, she was going to have to ask her husband for an allowance. Maybe if she wore the tight pink skirt with the loose white belt, and put her hair in pigtails… no, she’d told herself: no pigtails. She was just gonna have to sit down and explain she needed some spending money. Maybe flash her pussy a few times, for emphasis.
“I guess… I’m just gonna drip all over town,” Justine said, blinking. Her hair was usually up, and today it was in a single braid. She hadn’t gone bleachy-blonde but there was a subtle note of gold in her formerly all-black hair. “The day has arrived.”
“Oh, girls, come on,” Chloe said. “Asher, what’s the cost? Really.”
“Comes out to…” Asher had to take his time with the numbers, too. Amanda felt sympathetic. That was a lot of addition. “Sixty-six dollars.”
“That’s one blowjob and no more,” Chloe said.
She dropped onto her knees and waddled towards the younger man, her knees on the concrete floor.
Asher backed away. “I don’t know,” he hedged.
Chloe caught Amanda’s shocked look. “You haven’t been sucking and fucking for your stuff?” she said, incredulous. “Really? This whole dumb hick town runs on hummers and cooze. You can probably buy a fuckin house if you gave good enough head. And panties are cheap. Asher, c’mon. Don’t you want to try some city girl mouth? I see all you boys looking at us, wondering what we learned in college. I know you’re curious.”
“Same mouth as everyone else,” Asher said. But he was giving Chloe a look that Amanda knew. Even now, after who-knew how many suck-offs, Joseph had a glass-eyed anticipatory glaze right before his cock went in her mouth.
Chloe neatly reached into her oversized purse, past an ecosystem of wrappers and containers, and pulled out a tube of neon pink lipstick. “Mmmm your local lipstick even tastes good,” she said. She’d slathered it on. Asher looked awe-struck. When she pulled his dick out both Amanda and Justine let out tiny gasps. It wasn’t as big as Marshall’s, but it was solid and long. Chloe didn’t hesitate.
It was a hot scene. Amanda backed up against the wall. Justine joined her there. She could smell her friend. Justine really did need some underpants. Chloe was wholly shameless, and surprisingly loud. Part of Amanda filed that away—Joseph would love a noisy, appreciative blowjob.
“We should… we should just get the fuck out of this weird-ass town,” Justine said. Her voice slurred. Asher’s initial hesitation was gone. He fucked Chloe’s mouth with abandon. “Escape. Lets escape.”
“Yeah,” Amanda said, swallowing hard. She felt the urge to just reach over and grab Justine’s tits. Anyone’s body. “It’s all.. Slutty. You know?”
“Yeah. Slut town. All… sexy and shit. Too damn sexy. Gotta get the fuck out.”
Asher didn’t say anything before he came. Amanda wondered if it was his symbol of disdain. Or maybe it was his way of seeing what Chloe could do. It was too much for a city girl. She let his cock go and coughed, spit sperm on the floor. It was almost a relief—there was a bit of Chloe left in there. A real Calving girl could swallow a gallon.
“We’ll leave together,” Justine whispered. “Soon. Really, really soon. Get back to somewhere normal.”
Chloe wiped her mouth while Asher put the underpants in a bag. He placed it on Justine’s arm, gave them a nod and a brief smile, and watched them leave.
Amanda knew she had to keep her remaining wits at a tip-top high level of readiness, and all she could think about was the way her underpants kept digging in to her slit.
She’d made a huge mistake by trying to dress up in her old clothes. None of them fit even slightly. The blouse alone featured five straining buttons, and she’d been forced to undo the top two to let her tits breathe. The blazer was impossibly snug. The two together had essentially pushed her boobs up and up, until they practically smooshed her face.
But even that was tolerable. The skirt and underpants were the real issues. She’d gotten it around her waist, which was still pleasingly trim, but her bigger butt had ridden it well up. And her last remaining pair of pre-pastry panties were flossing her pussy. It was maddening. She was going to juice up a Church.
Beth held her hand. It was a touching gesture that highlighted how young she was. She looked scared. Her own oversized jugs still dwarfed what Amanda packed, and she’d worn a black tanktop that was probably Calving formal wear.
“We’ll be in and out in ten minutes,” Amanda whispered. The echoes carried. The hallway was arches and plush red carpeting. It seemed bizaare to get in from the mid-day heat and sun and bubbling butts into an abbey. Beth led the way. She seemed to be very familiar with the Church. They were in a network of confusing hallways back behind the main area. All the doors were dark wood, and closed, and unlabeled.
Pastor Flynn seemed like he’d merit a double-door, at least, but his office was just one of the many on the way. Beth didn’t knock. She took just a short breath, and slowly let it out, before going in.
It was a far more composed Beth then the crying mess Amanda had arrived home to. “Pastor Flynn called!” she had sobbed, to Amanda.
“How?” was Amanda’s first question. There was a working phone line? Where?
“He wants to meet with me and Hiram. He thinks we can work it out!” Beth broke into fresh gales of tears. Amanda went in for a hug. They had clung to each other, hands struggling to get around their tits. And of course Amanda had promised to come along, if she could have a few minutes to get changed.
The cotton rubbed on her clit. Amanda hissed. Calm. She had to be calm. She was the sensible feminist who was going to stand up for Beth’s right to suck her husband’s big wonderful dick. No. Well, yes. And not impale herself on said cock unless she CHOSE as a WOMAN to get full up with yummy cum. She had to keep that in mind.
Flynn’s office was even smaller than she’d expected. It smelled of—she couldn’t quite say. Something very manly. She’d walked by locker rooms and past men weightlifting and men in suits and men smoking cigars and men drinking whiskey, and this was all of that. She inhaled deeply. It was very nice.
“Beth!” Pastor Flynn said. He’d taken a folding chair and put it in front of a large desk. To his right sat Hiram, who was wearing an uncomfortable looking suit. He looked stricken and had his hands tightly clenched in front of him. “Take a seat, take a seat!”
The only other seat was a two-person loveseat just a bit off the ground. Amanda looked hard at it and tried to work out the geometry. It would be really hard to sit down without showing both of the men her snatch. If she crossed her legs super tightly and also leaned forwards… but that would create its own problems. She’d probably best stand.
Although… it would be very rude to say no to a man. Amanda took a reluctant seat. Beth slouched in besides her.
“Well now, lets begin,” Pastor Flynn said, cheerfully. “I truly feel that this is all a misunderstanding an—”
“I don’t want a baby!” Beth said, right away. Hiram actually flinched. Amanda did too. Was it really so bad, having Hiram bust inside of you? She considered the younger man. He looked hewn out of oak, and lacked the subtle bro-douchiness of sunglasses, baseball cap, tanktop that most of the male residents had. It was his eyes, she decided. They had real soul. She forced herself to look away—she was wet enough as it was.
“Beth, you’re 19,” Flynn said, placating. “Nineteen years of care and support. That’s a very long time. And now you’re being asked to give back, in the form of progeny. God has spent 19 years making you into someone that can have an enormous amount of babies. It’s the most natural and most caring thing anyone can do.”
Amanda couldn’t help but nod, when he put it that way. And with Beth’s tits it seemed all the more reason. She could probably feed a calf. It smelled so good in the room.
Flynn noticed her, if only to break the silence. Beth had subsided into a dull pout. “Amanda,” he said, smiling. “It’s good to see you.” His eyes wandered downwards. Amanda realized that her legs had wandered open. Both men had a clear view of her well-soaked slit. She slammed her legs shut, flushing.
“I’m here to support Beth’s decision, whatever it is,” she managed, and tried to match Beth’s pout. But her mouth kept hanging open. Why did it smell so good?
“I’ve got terrible manners,” Flynn said, smiling. He stood up and rummaged behind his desk. For the first time Amanda noticed the cabinets behind him—they were all piled high with industrial canisters with small labels, many of them full to the brim with liquid. It looked like a high school chemist’s supply. There were beakers and clipboards and binders. And a small tube that he handed to her. Amanda concentrated on keeping her legs shut.
“Refreshments? Here, try this. Brand new. Curious to see what you think,” Flynn told her.
She squeezed it. A small amount of what looked like toothpaste came out the tip. “What is it?”
“You eat it,” Flynn said.
“Goo. It’s white goo. You want me to eat white goo? Just whatever?” It was clearly a calculated insult, that she’d just eat some gunk because she was that kind of girl.
“It’s sugary,” Flynn said.
Well, that was stupid. Although—and the smell of it laced into her. Funny bubbles popped in her head. It was very sweet. A bit wouldn’t hurt.
“Dadddd, come on,” Beth sighed. “Amanda is my friend.”
Dad? But Amanda had already emptied half the tube down her throat. Flynn gently took it away from her, chuckled. “You’ll love what it does to your scent,” he promised. Beth shook her head, annoyed.
“Alright, fine. Back to business. Hiram? Lets see it.”
Amanda gave up on keeping her legs crossed. Hiram nodded, unbuttoned his fly, and pulled his cock out. Amanda stared at it. There was a dick out. The guy had just pulled out his entire cock like it was nothing. And it was truly enormous, and wet with precum. That explained the scent. It was all dick. Her mouth tasted like the best sugar. It was getting very hard to focus.
Beth and Amanda both licked their lips.
“It hurt when I put that c-c-c—I can’t say it,” Hiram said. He wiped his face. His eyes were wet. “That THING. But I did it! I did it for you, Beth! We’re meant to be TOGETHER! We fit! That’s the way we’re made! We’re puzzle pieces, remember?”
Puzzle pieces, that was funny. One with a big dick and the other all hole. Amanda giggled at it. She sank back into the couch. It was a very plush couch, for a leather job, and her head was feeling very full.
“Hiram, I’m sorry, but… I want more than THAT,” Beth said. She reached across and started to jack her husband off, placating. “I want us to be real people! I don’t want to just be a—a COW!”
Flynn’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t say anything.
“MY cow,” Hiram said, pleading. “My big cow Beth!”
Cow girl, now Amanda was all giggles. They all ignored her. Her tits burned. She vaguely remembered something about keeping her legs closed.
“Daddy, come on,” Beth scolded. Amanda half-heard it. “She’s trying to hard to be my friend and help me and you’re treating her like this. She was so smart and stuff when she got here, and now she’s eating your silly goo out of your hand because you gave it to her.” She hadn’t stopped masturbating Hiram, who grunted and spurted. Sticky white cum shot out of him. That made Amanda giggle again.
Pastor Flynn looked mildly apologetic. “I don’t want to take chances with newcomers. Beth, please. You know you’re my favorite. But I want this. Hiram wants this. I think, deep down, you want this. Our future is so wonderful, and it starts with you trusting what you’re put here to do.”
Beth sniffled. Tears ran down both cheeks. The men looked truly stricken. “I do love Hiram,” she blubbered. “I do. I do I do! I know we’re—I know we’re meant together. I just want a little time for ME, is that so bad?” She looked from boy to boy, and neither could look her in the eyes. Her tears spattered on the top of her tits.
Pastor Flynn handed her a handkerchief. They all waited silently for her to wipe her eyes and hands. Excepting Amanda, who had started to frig herself with abandon. It was all a dream, she had determined. Yet another one of the hot horny sex daydreams that were just part of life now. A pastiche of Hiram and Flynn and Beth, everyone jacking each other off. And why not her?
“Love enough to bear his child?” Flynn tried, but it was obvious he knew he was beaten. Beth looked resolute.
“It can WAIT, daddy. I want to read like, a book, okay? One little book? Please? For me?”
She gave Pastor Flynn a big smile, and waited.
Flynn sighed for a very long time. “Beth, alright. You love Hiram and that’s the important thing. Have fun with the city people. While you can.”
She gave him an innocent peck on the cheek. “Daddy, you’re superb. What about Amanda?”
“She’ll come around eventually,” Flynn brightened. “And she’ll smell fantastic.”
Amanda didn’t recall the instructions, exactly. The tube of white goo had left her a horny, brain-fucked mess, and Beth had needed to lead her out the Church, her hands wandering around. At one point she had got a trail of Hiram cum on her, and licked it off, marveling at the taste. No wonder Chloe was going around sucking off the local boys. They tasted like dinner.
Beth drove them back to the high-rise, Beth patiently stuck a vibrator in her while she cummed her brains out, Beth whispered instructions in her ear. Stuff she should’ve learned years ago. How to really suck a man off, how to keep him from coming until you were both roaring beasts.
At half-past six she woke up. Beth waited patiently while her friend tried to sort out the past day of fuzzy memories and impossible dreams.
Amanda discarded the whole Flynn-fuck entirely as an extremely messed up scene. Heck, it was nice her body didn’t end it with all four of them doggy-style in the church vestibule. Similarly, she had probably gone to town with Chloe and Justine, but the blowjob bit was absolutely invention. She was just horny and missing Joseph.
“I made dinner,” Beth said, anticipating her. Her friend sat in the chair in the bedroom. She had made it to page 5 of Jane Austen, and had highlighted the entire page. Amanda’s well-used vibrator sat next to her. Had she…? No, that couldn’t be right. Amanda sniffed. Was that her that smelled so good?
A key rattled in the door.
“Quick!” Beth hissed. “Like we talked about!”
Amanda jumped out of bed. She only vaguely recognized her own outfit—a black chemise she must’ve bought at some point. And a similar lacey choker that was definitely new. She got on her knees in front of the door, and—and this was the most important part of all—opened her mouth.
Joseph opened the door and glared at her. He smelled like workout and sweat. His hair was damp. “Hello, Amanda,” he said.
Amanda kept her mouth open and her eyes pleading.
Her husband put his hands on his hips. “I’ve been getting shit from everyone in the company all day. No one likes the whole, taking in the town stray thing. Did you know Beth is Pastor Flynn’s daughter? She’s like, local royalty. And we’re spitting in his face.”
He circled around her. “And I know she’s your friend and I know we can’t just toss her back but god DAMN it Amanda. Do you expect me to just stick my cock in your mouth and say everything is okay?”
Amanda tried her best to open her mouth just a tiny bit wider. Her man examined her. Choker, tits bulging in her outfit, ass hanging out. She waited.
“Did you make dinner?” he said, sniffing. “And dessert? Something smells… sweet.”
He chewed his lip. Amanda knew she had won when she spotted the bulge in his pants. “He still loves me,” she thought, overjoyed. He loved her!
“Alright, you make a good argument,” he said. “Go ahead. If you really must.” She knew he was lying, now. He wanted her. She could smell it. He wanted to fuck her mouth, and he was going to. But he made her unbuckle his belt anyway. The way his cock jumped out, hard and long and veiny and thick, no longer surprised her. She couldn’t remember how she was currently rationalizing it. Something about working out adding five or six inches. The important thing was putting it in her mouth.
This time she took the lead. It surprised Joseph, who had gotten used to using her like a kneeling receptacle. Amanda very gently and very carefully reached out and cradled his balls, which were already tense and heavy. They filled her hands, and she imagined she could feel them starting to churn. Her tongue ran diligently along the underside of the shaft. He loved it, she could tell.
It was all very exciting. Amanda felt her self-confidence coming back, not to mention a hot and heavy orgasm. It was so reassuring to just be on her knees, her wonderful and warm husband happy and thrusting, a healthy load of jizz about to wash away any relationship struggles.
It struck her that maybe she had been wrong about the whole, having a life thing. She was a wife. That was a full-time job, especially when the spouse had a cock that was so very needy and hard. Keeping his balls drained and his dick wet would take her full-time concentration, and if that meant long hours putting on different shades of lipstick, and trying on dozens of outfits, and letting her brain be lazy and horny, that she could do. Not just a wife but a sex toy, a fuck doll, a horny slut, that was like four jobs. Had Beth said something like that? It was all hazy. But hey, that was life.
“I’m coming,” he reported, and Amanda moved smoothly into phase two. What a treasure of a man, reporting that he was gonna jizz, instead of just emptying out. Amanda let a spurt trail between her lips. He got better-tasting by the day, but she’d been instructed—boys love a little cum on their girl’s faces. Makes clear who is in charge.
“Dinner?” she said, while he buttoned up. Sure enough, he didn’t say a word about her mucked-up face. His cock was still at half-mast.
“Wow,” he said, eyeing dinner. “You actually cooked?”
“I cook,” Amanda said, briefly hurt.
“You arrange bags of things, Amanda. We have all these pots and pans. Cooking uses them.”
And they HAD been used. Beth had worked very hard. There were bowls of pasta with sauce actually mixed in, there was fried chicken she had made herself. They both dove into it. There was even fruit. They ate steadily. There was no question of anyone saying anything during eating time. They kept their heads low. But Amanda made sure to stop the moment Joseph did.
But she did remember to look right in his eyes while she gathered up all the sperm still on the top of her tits, and lick each and every finger.
Another instruction kicked in. Beth had mixed the cocktail and left it in the freezer for her. “For you,” she reported, putting it in front of him. It was a bright brown, the surface dusted with ice from hours cooling. She waited for him to take the first sip, then got back onto her knees.
This time she was gentle, slow, relaxed. The idea was to time his release with the last sip of whatever was in the drink. He was just as hard as a half-hour ago, and when he came, there were more big blasts to the back of her throat. She licked him clean and backed up, still on her knees.
Joseph put down the glass and looked at her fondly. He finally wore that confident smile she remembered. “Alright,” he said. “How are we going to help our friend Beth?”
Having Beth around turned out to be the best decision that Amanda could recall making.
She was the very bestest at every piece of husband-happiness that Amanda could think of. It was humiliating how badly she’d been doing before, at being a wife. She’d acted like tossing her mouth around and maybe cleaning up dirty wrappers on the floor had made her some sort of ideal spouse, one that Joseph should even be grateful for.
That was over.
Now Amanda got up at least an hour before Joseph did. Beth had taught her a little trick to it—rolling quietly off the side and bouncing on to her butt. “Everything about you is there for a reason,” she’d said, in her high-pitched titter. “You gotta let it do what its supposed to do!” So she let her new ass padding cushion her fall, and quietly stole into the bathroom, where she’d learned to get ready in the dark.
Then it was a half-hour learning to cook all over again. Calving cooking. The first time Amanda had put together proper pancakes, all fluffy and light and special and sweet, she’d cried on Beth’s tits. The trick turned out to be over a dozen special chemicals Beth retrieved from her Daddy, all of them labeled with all sorts of weird symbols. The first batch had made Joseph late for work—he’d stood up from the table and roughly bent her over it, grinding her into the wood while Amanda moaned and Beth quietly cleaned around them.
And there were so many little tricks to learn! Painting her toes—Amanda had never painted her toes. Even her recent infatuation with lipstick was just about getting that red ring on Joseph’s cock. Now she paddled around with wine-red footsies, or a bright blue, and nails to match. Earrings too—the holes had closed up, but Beth had gotten her good and horny and now she had nice hoop earrings that jangled while she blew her husband.
Her blowjob technique was getting better each day. Beth had gotten pretty close to it all, watching her diligently suck and tongue from just inches away, Joseph’s dick sliding past her eyes. She was a critical coach, always seeing ways to improve—slide UP on his dick when he came, not down. Seal her lips and look him right in the eye as he emptied out. Make sure to jack his dick to get every last ounce. And never, ever, ever waste any sperm. “It’s IMPORTANT,” Beth told her, sternly. “Not a drop! Never a single drop.”
And whatever was in those chemicals, they’d made Joseph extra-special tasty. Cumdrunk and giggling, she’d even suggested that he try his own supply, which he’d rolled his eyes at. But the stuff was leaving Amanda increasingly loopy, and she was addicted to it. She’d even leveled off on her curves, getting most of her nutrients from his dick.
Beth herself was unobtrusive, level-headed, and content to simply hang around and work her way through the book. They took turns reading it to each other. With constant effort and vibe session breaks they were all the way through page 11.
And it was easy to tune out the signals from her head that there was some wrongness going on. She was being a good wife AND a good friend, what else could she possibly be? There would always be better photo-taking people, and better readers of books, but there was only one Joseph and Amanda, and that would be her priority. True, she still got the odd shiver when she had to sound out multi-syllable words, and get a strange sense of anxiety when she realized it was past midnight, and she last remembered kneeling after breakfast. But either Beth or Joseph would be smiling at her, and it would be okay.
“Dress like he likes. Just ask him what he wants!” Beth told her. Of course! And it turned out Joseph liked his wife as slutty and as cheap as possible. He loved her in bright pinks and short shorts and cheap underpants he could tear apart with his big, muscular hands. When she showed up in pigtails he grunted and simply pulled out his cock, and waited for her to service it.
He liked her to talk, too. Just bedroom stuff. “Fuck your big butt wifey,” she chanted, urging him to push deeper. “Fuck this pussy. Fuck your wife’s pussy. Come on honey. Give me that big dick!” He loved it.
It wasn’t clear who started calling her Mandy. Beth or Joseph? But it was a fun name, a fun name to say, and it settled in so perfectly it was like she’d been born with it. Mandy who liked to suck.
There was another benefit to having Beth around, which was that she was the perfect playmate for those lonely afternoons when the difficult thoughts started to intrude. It was so inconvenient how they kept intruding, despite everything she had done to keep them away from a happy pink life. But she’d still catch sight of herself, lips pink, hair in pigtails, face carefully made up, hot pink shirt, fat tits, and there’d be that frisson of nervousness she couldn’t quite chase away. Even now she’d find herself looking for her car keys, wondering where she’d left them, possessed of a panic that only a bunch of orgasms could chase away. Holding her poor cell phone up in the air, haplessly, waiting for a signal that just wouldn’t arrive.
But Beth was so GOOD for that. When Mandy got hung up on a really big time hard word in their mutual book, like “acknowledgement” or something, and they were both gasping and staring at it in consternation, Beth would just shrug cheerfully and start to fool around.
Mandy had been a little hesitant at first. Something about casual sex with houseguests didn’t sit right. But Beth had crawled into bed on her own initiative, one lazy morning, when Joseph was already out the door and she was horny and bored. She’d put up a token struggle, but the girl had gotten between her legs almost immediately, and her tongue was fire. Right—that’s when she’d started going by Mandy, after they’d spent the entire day licking each other out, feet never making it off the bed. Now Mandy had an open invitation to start fondling her tits, and vice versa.
“We’re almost done,” Joseph told her, late at night. They had fucked a half-dozen times since he got home. “We can leave as soon as we get this last piece in. Its nearly over with.”
Mandy felt a surge of relief that was hard to explain. She was happy and fulfilled, and she had orgasmed a number of times. Her tummy was full of absolutely delicious cum. She tried to wake her brain up. “Right,” she hazarded. “Get out of this dumb sexy town.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” Joseph said, quickly.
“Oh, no no,” Mandy agreed. She was jacking on his dick. It calmed her down. Joseph had gotten so that he could stay at least semi-hard essentially all the time. Mandy found her hands just wandered to his cock of their own accord. He never complained. “Is anyone still giving you trouble over Beth?”
“No, I think Flynn said something to the Foreman,” he paused, thoughtful. “It’ll be weird to leave. We kinda… went native a little, right?”
“You mean you like your slutty farm wife?” Mandy teased. They usually backed down from conversations like this, but she’d already got her mind working, and it still tossed out comments like that. “Big ’ol midwestern titties? Farm butt?”
“I do like the farm butt,” Joseph said. He gripped it, possessively. “Back to normal, right?”
“Back to normal,” Mandy agreed. They repeated it all the time. It was always calming. Something else occurred to her. “You know… Joseph… Beth is in the other room… we can…”
His grip got even tighter. “Why would I need another mouth? I’ve got the best one right here.”
It was unbearably sweet. Mandy snuggled into him. They were made for each other. He was so steely, whipcord muscle. None of his old shirts fit. Too much shoulder and chest. Her husband was so STRONG now. She loved him. What the hell, they could go one more round before bed. She slid over to him and stuck her farm butt on top of his cock. She was already gummy from however many rounds it had been. From the other room she could hear Beth vibing to the Farm Report.
The next morning she woke up, and barely made it to the bathroom, before throwing up.