The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Terry poked his head out of the big double doors leading out into the sales floor and rubber-necked about urgently.

Customers and staff sparsely populated the storefront. Weaving like so much slow traffic between the long rows of shelves and displays searching for bargain purchases. It was still early in the day so the store wasn’t too busy. Just a few handfuls of retirees and stay-at-home mothers looking to capitalize on midweek catalog deals with under-motivated sales people dogging their steps half-heartedly.

Terry ran a hand through his tousled hair and adjusted the all too prominent bulge in his overtaxed pants. It was pushed obscenely down the right leg of his ruined slacks, halfway to his knee and clearly outlined against the straining khaki cloth.

This was absurd.

“Damn it all, get a hold of yourself man!”

Terry had done the best he could with the resources at hand. The zipper was busted after the aggressive debut of his massive new member and he had stapled closed the torn flap in his trousers in an ill conceived attempt to preserve his long lost modesty.

...and that was after he had strapped his ever-ready erection to his thigh with an excessive amount of packing tape.

That was going to be purest form of torture to remove later if his downstairs hypersensitivity was any indicator.

“C’mon... No, no, no, no...” He groaned, his colossal cock fighting heroically against its constraining restraints at the sight of a busty dark-haired housewife in a revealing summer dress pushing a pram past his hiding spot and turning down an aisle headed towards the kitchen appliances.

“What’s wrong, Terry?”

Warm hands slid around his waist and the smell of sweet perfume filled his nostrils as Bernie pressed her athletic body against his back with a naughty giggle. Her hands roaming across his belly before migrating southward. His dick throbbed strongly in eager anticipation. Terry groaned when he felt a heavy spurt of pre-cum darken the pant-leg just above his knee.

Oh for fucks sake...

“Bernie, stop that.” He hissed, stepping back into the storeroom and squirming free of her groping clutches. “You’re not helping matters, you’re making it worse.”

“Aaaaw~ I’m sorry, Terry.” She teased with a playful pout. “Shall we kiss and make up? Or here’s another idea; how about I give that giant horse-cock of yours a big smooch to make it feel better...“

She was crowding him again, her big beautiful eyes locked on the lewdly twitching mega-bulge in his poor slacks and smacking her chops like a lioness after the kill. Terry had to actively push her away to get a little room to breathe. He needed space to think and wrap his head around whatever the hell was going on here.

Or rather, what was going on down there.

“Bernie, think about what you are doing...” He tried to keep his tone reasonable and suppressed a groan when his hyperactive giga-cock thrummed again. “Sure we’re friends but since when have you ever wanted to suck my dick?”

The question itself was a bit of a blow to the ol’ male ego but Terry could weather it given the circumstances.

“Uuum… Well, at least since I first saw it just now but I feel like it should have been for a really long time.” She mused, tapping a thoughtful finger on her chin before brightening up again. “How’s about you whip that bad boy out again and we can see...“

“Bernie!”

“Don’t Bernie me, Stud. I want it, I can smell that delicious warm spunk in your pants from here.” She whined petulantly, edging forward as Terry kept his distance. “How much do you wanna bet that I can’t suck that sweet splooge straight out through the fabric?“

“Are you hearing the words coming out of your own mouth right now?” Terry was afraid this was going to turn into another round of ground and pound with his incorrigible cock as the prize. “Something is wrong with both of us. We need to get out of here and find help.”

“...compound X244-1 SEE.” Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod repeated, drawing out the last syllable of the delegation code phonetically.

“No, Grand Scrutineer. I was instructed to administer compound X244-1 DEE.” Flunky Third Class Bhamme protested, doing the same.

By the endless storms of Beta Crateris III the junior crew member didn’t understand why the Prime Smack—may they remain ever gelatinous—insisted on using such a confusing alphanumeric system for their many and varied experimental formulas.

“You were most certainly not.” High Psychophant Qwaizoo reprimanded sharply, his gills flaring in outrage. “Your orders were clear and simple, Flunky Third Class Bhamme. You will accept the repercussions of your own egregious shortcomings.“

“What is compound x244-1d supposed to do anyway?” Bhamme asked churlishly. He hadn’t wanted to go on that stupid mission in the first place and was feeling rather ill-used as a target for his two superiors ire.

“That is what we are about to discover, no matter our original designs.” The Grand Scrutineer said, his lappets curling together in thoughtful repose. “The compound in question is a psychotomimetic extract from the Decalopoid species native to Omicron Cephei II.”

Flunky Third Class Bhamme’s cerebral bell rippled the putrid green hue of confusion.

“They are an aquatic species of Psychedelic Goliath Squids from the Cepheus constellation, Flunky.” Qwaizoo explained with no small amount of exasperation.

Bhamme’s twin eye-stalks just stared blankly back at him, with an astounding lack of any comprehension.

“Would you please join me by the command pool, High Psychophant?” Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod requested calmly before the two of them floated serenely back up the bridge together leaving the young Flunky to monitor the transmission bubble.

Once there Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod took a deep whiff of the soothing helium vapors before rounding angrily on High Psychophant Qwaizoo with his pseudopod pointed back towards Flunky Third Class Bhamme.

“Who is that incompetent shtaaark-hole and what is are they doing on my star-ship?“

“Excuse me, Miss Gwendoline...” Terry stuck his head around the store manager’s office door trying to keep his jutting crotch out of sight.

It was a tall order, his middle-aged ice-queen of a boss worked in a proverbial fishbowl. The curving walls and even the door were entirely transparent glass, even lacking blinds to obscure her view of the sales floor. It was her own personal panopticon from which she ruled over her little kingdom like the petty tin-pot tyrant she was.

...and right now Terry looked like he was trying to smuggle a blue-ribbon prize cucumber down the front of his slacks.

“What is it Terrence?” She asked, never taking her eyes off her laptop screen. “I need you to finish that stocktaking, not wasting company time by slacking off. The end of the fiscal quarter isn’t far away now.”

That was a bald-faced lie delivered with all much warmth of a thrown knife. They were barely into the fifth week of the first quarter...

“An emergency has come up and, ah, I really need to clock out early today.” He stammered a bit lamely trying to angle his hips sideways to avoid giving her the full frontal display.

It didn’t really help and Terry nearly brained his lower head on the door-frame with all his twisting and turning.

“What are you talking about?” Miss Gwendoline questioned sternly, finally looking up and meeting his gaze.

She really was very beautiful. Like an aloof, untouchable gemstone to be admired from behind thick glass that would be cold to the touch. Even with her glossy caramel hair pulled up into a tight bun and her professional white blouse buttoned all the way up to her throat she only reminded Terry of a sexy librarian or a smoking hot school teacher straight out of a teenage wet dream.

The effect was only enhanced when her dark glittering eyes stared into his from behind those elegant, minimalist frames and her full lips puckered in thought as though weighing him up. He was suddenly dry mouthed and tongue tied.

“Why are you lurking in the doorway like that?” She frowned. “Don’t slouch, Terrence. Now come in here and explain to me what is so urgent that you have to leave work in the middle of your shift ”

“I-I think I’m okay right here.” Terry said weakly. “Look, I really need to go...”

Gwendoline wasn’t having it. She fixed him with a hard glare, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms under her ample chest.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you are skating on thin ice already.” She said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Now stop squirming like a child and get in here.”

With nothing else for it, Terry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stepped into the office.

“Now why are you acting so dramatic- Oh!”

Cautiously cracking a single eyelid Terry squinted at his fearsome manager. As he suspected her jaw was slack and her big dark eyes were wide, locked onto monstrous protuberance rudely distending the cloth of one trouser leg.

“Oh my... Terrence.” She husked breathily, the hard lines of her face softening into a warmer expression. “I never knew. You should have said something...“

Terry boggled as she smiled at him—actually fucking smiled! Terry strongly suspected some previously atrophied facial muscles were getting an unexpected workout there—and lifted her finely manicured fingers into her hair to undo her firmly fixed bun. Her toffee colored locks tumbled loosely about her slender shoulders but her smoldering gaze remained laser targeted on his groin as she began to pop open the top few buttons of her neat crisp blouse, one after the other.

“Miss Gwendoline, I don’t think you should...”

“It’s fine, Terrence. You may simply call me Gwen.” She purred as she arched her back and thrust her shapely cleavage out as if for his approval. Another button was swiftly undone and an edge of a frilly violet bra peeked out from the rapidly plunging neckline. “After-all, I think that I would like us to become the very closest of acquaintances...“

“Alright, Gwen then. You need to- Aaargh~!”

His words cut off in a strangle cry as his battened down immensity reasserted its independence with a powerful, knee-knocking throb. It jerked mightily within its clothed confinement, pulling at the thick loops of packing tape in a heady mix of pain and pleasure that almost dropped Terry to the floor. He managed to steady himself against the door until his vision stopped spinning and his eyes came back into focus.

“Ooooooh~ Terrence!“

The desk in the store Manager’s office was constructed, much like the rest of it, of spotless glass atop a shining stainless steel frame. Miss Gwendoline- Gwen’s expensive laptop was set off to one side allowing him a clear line of sight through the transparent desktop to her long silky legs below.

Those same gorgeous gams were clad in tan nylon hosiery and spread luridly wide. Her hip-hugging charcoal pencil skirt pushed high enough up her smooth athletic thighs that the lacy tops of her stockings were out on tour and a flash of violet panties played peek-a-boo out from under the rising hemline.

“That was... That was...” Gwen panted, her face flushed with a sudden rush of arousal and a spot of drool pooling at the corner of her plush, parted lips. “Oh gawd, what was that?“

As though she had felt that terrifying wave of pleasure too...

“I’ve got to... Can I go now?” Terry wheezed, swaying drunkenly on his feet. “It really is... an emergency.”

He watched as his boss kicked off a strappy silver high-heel and propped a dainty nylon-wrapped foot up against the edge of the desk before reclining luxuriously back in her seat.

The new position gave him a front row seat as Gwen began squirming deliciously in her large office chair, her pretty panty-clad pussy out on parade.

“You can do anything you like, Terrence.” She crooned, running her questing hands down across a flat tummy and trim waist that belonged to a woman half her age. “Anything at all...“

Terry trembled as he watched her clever fingers reach below the tight high-waisted skirt and pressed into the pronounced outline of her camel-toe through the sheer satin of her skimpy panties. The soft shimmering fabric there growing darker and shinier with her sweet flowing pussy-nectar.

His kaiju cock-meat raged valiantly against it’s restraints as though it would break free at any moment to rain utter ruin down on that hot dripping boss-bitch pussy and then, presumably, rampage through Tokyo with a beautiful writhing Miss Gwendoline help aloft in its meaty grasp.

Wait... Where the fuck did that crazy fantasy come from?

Terry was clearly suffering from almost terminal blood-loss to his brain. He had to get the hell away from here before matters got any more out of hand.

“Oh... okay thanks, Gwen. I really have to go now.” He groaned, staggering backwards out of the office then making a bee-line for the staff-only exit.

He desperately wanted to ignore the heated moans and wet shlicking noises following him as he fled but Miss Gwendoline’s soft cries hounded his retreating steps.

“Nnnrrgh~ Oooh Terrence...“

“Heya, Stud. What took you so long?” Bernie inquired as he climbed into the driver’s seat of his old hatchback. “It feels, like, forever since I got to wrap these fat cock-sucking lips around that gorgeous donkey-dick of yours!“

“Can you please just cool it for a hot second, Bernie...” Terry begged, before doing a double-take after glancing over at her. “Wha- what is going on with your clothes?“

The blue uniform polo shirt the stores cashiers all wore looked like it had shrunk in the wash. It was plastered so tightly across the swell of her high perky breasts that her happy raspberry peaks were starkly visible under the thin cotton. Even the bottom hem had come untucked from her sprayed-on jeans and risen to expose a smooth creamy midriff of toned tummy.

...and was her fit little caboose filling out that skin-tight denim more than usual?

“I dunno but I feel fantastic.” The vivacious blonde giggled. “So how about it? Are you gonna feed me another big hot load of your yummy cummy? It’s clock-out get your cock out time, Terry. C’mon Stud, I’m hungry for it!“

Thirsty seemed like the better word and of course she was...

Terry sighed in frustration. At least she was waiting in his car just as he had instructed her to do. He wasn’t about to leave her alone at work in her perversely altered mind-state. Terry was a responsible adult after-all.

A respectable, responsible adult with a towering painful erection that had come loose of its improvised imprisonment some time during his flight from a gratuitously horny Miss Gwendoline. The once icy queen-bitch had got him so worked up that his fleshy flagpole was back at full mast and had wormed at least half its girthy length out the top of his waistline up under his plain white button-up.

“Oh goodie, is that all for me?” Bernie exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly and leveling a feral grin at the pulsing outline of his over-inflated cock-head. It was pressing out from under his wrinkled shirt high above his belly button.

Terry felt dizzy, lightheaded. He was having trouble trying to think straight in this maddening state, how was he supposed to drive? Making a quick executive decision he dragged his shirt-tails out of his slacks exposing the top six inches of his stupendous man-meat to the ravenous little minx.

“Yaaaay~!” She cheered before leaning over two wrap both her small hands around the rocky base of his stupefying shaft. “Oh Terry, I just love how thick it is.... Hey, has it gotten bigger? Look, I can barely wrap my fingers all the way around it now.“

Terry closed his eyes and swallowed a moan as young Bernie began to rub her pretty face against the angry thrumming crown like a playful little sex-kitten. His bubbling precum left long glistening trails across her soft cheeks before she moaned and smeared the tip across her pouty lips, glossing them wetly with his pearly man-seed.

“You have no idea how much I love sucking down your huge scrumptious cock, Stud. Gloommmph~!”

This was the only safe way to get the hell out of dodge, Terry told himself as her hot working mouth stretched down over the plum-sized head and her wicked tongue swirled magic circles across his elephantine enormity.

“Ach, glark, urk!” She gargled happily as she forced his super-human length further down her slick constricting throat.

He rested one guiding hand in her bobbing platinum blonde hair as the other put the car into gear and they peeled out of the parking garage.

“This is just a one-time thing until we can... Oh fuck, Bernie! ...find help.” He gasped to himself as much as to the taut-bodied beautiful coed continued trying to choke herself on his turgid tumescence.

“How are you doing down there?” Terry asked, breathing hard.

“Mmmmwah~ great! Just cleaning you up, Stud.” Bernie’s pretty head was wedged between the bottom of the steering wheel and his aching groin as she licked at his tingling balls. His semi-flaccid redwood rested alongside her flushed face, drizzling a gooey line of fresh cum into her silky golden hair. “You made a real mess down here.“

That was the pot calling the kettle black.

Terry shuddered as her nimble tongue worked wonders lapping up the thick wash of warm man-juices that had escaped her thirsty throat and formed a viscous puddle in his lap.

“You say that as if it was all my fault...”

“Hey now, don’t you go thinking that I’m complaining or anything.” The cute college dropout interjected between loud wet slurps. “You’re like a bottomless buffet of delicious baby-batter, Terry. But it’s, like, more than a mouthful. You really give a girl a lot to swallow.“

Terry had filled the lith blonde’s trim belly to overflowing twice more during the twenty minute drive and she had taken both of his unnaturally copious loads into her happily mewling maw, drinking down all she could. Still, the insatiable sexpot was hungry for more and her soft hands were stroking his XXXL-sized shaft even as she tongue-bathed his pulsating family jewels.

“I don’t know where all this is coming from.” He groaned as he turned the vehicle down a familiar street. The short journey had been a nervous affair even with Bernie latched face-first onto his cantankerous cockmeat and sucking like the vacuum of space.

“I’m no doctor, Stud but I’m guessing it’s all coming from this massive brass pair you’re sporting down here.” She giggled, reaching a sticky hand down to scoop one up and give it a sloppy kiss. “They’ve gotta be the size of tennis balls or something.”

“This is what I am talking about. That isn’t normal.” Terry scowled, tugging her head out of his crotch as he pulled over and parked the car. “Now stop that already and clean yourself up. We’re here...”

Their options for seeking help had been depressingly limited in the end.

Employment at Ezyway Electronics didn’t come with health cover for their casual hires and, unsurprisingly, all the sales staff were kept on as casual employees. It didn’t matter that they worked forty hour weeks and had to eke out a living on lousy commissions, only corporate got the full benefits package. So a quick stop by the doctors office for a check-up was expensively out of the question.

As was seeking admittance to an actual hospital. Terry didn’t want to imagine the chaos that might break out if he and his big swinging dick swaggered on into a public waiting area full of people, a lot of whom would undoubtedly be women. He had witnessed first hand the obscene effect it had on Bernie and then Gwen so the prospect of doing the same to a room full of sick and injured patients was downright bone-chilling.

What about sexy naughty nurses though? All in pristine white uniforms, jockeying for prime position on their knees before his massive spouting cock... Terry banished the treacherous thought as he climbed out of the old hatchback.

“So this is your place, huh? It looks waaay~ nicer than the crappy shoe-box I live in.” Bernie remarked, checking out the cozy duplex and sucking a cum-laden finger clean with relish. “You’re a real catch, Stud.“

Get home and bunker down until a google search or a visit to WebMD shed some light on the situation then make a more informed decision. That was the plan.

...or at least it was until Terry looked up from unsuccessfully attempting to wrestle his traitorous cock back into his ragged pant-leg and stared at Bernie in shock.

“Whoa, Bernie... What fuck happened to you?” He blurted. “You’re goddamn huge!”

He looked the small athletic blonde up and down. Well... more up then down really, because little Bernie wasn’t quite so “little” anymore.

She paused in languidly stretching her arms out over her head to look down at herself and let out a soft squeak of surprise.

The Bernie of a few hours ago was trim, perky and five foot something in heels. The young woman standing tits and shoulders above the cars roof had to be approaching WNBA standards in height with sleek muscular curves for days.

“Holy shit, Terry. Are you seeing this?” She said proudly, twisting about to check herself out. “I look fucking fabulous!”

She struck a provocative pose with one hip cocked rakishly at an angle and her hands tangled up in her dense mane of long platinum hair. It was a good thing she had foregone a bra today because her breasts looked like they had more than doubled in size and the too-small blue polo shirt was practically painted onto her pale flawless flesh. Her flat tummy was exposed up past her navel showcasing a cute little gemstone piercing there with her large diamond hard nips and wide pebbled areola tenting the thin fabric dramatically.

Despite all the bells of Notre Dame clamoring a warning inside his skull, Terry could sense his monstrous member’s autonomic response as all his blood rushed south for the winter. Bernie’s glittering eyes and mischievous grin showed that she didn’t miss a beat of it.

“Ha! If you like this, Stud. Just wait until you get a load of my back end.”

Then she crossed those shapely mile-high legs and twirled in place with all the seductive grace of a seasoned go-go dancer, giving her bodacious new booty a ringing smack as it spun lusciously into view.

Oh sweet and fluffy lord, Bernie’s delightful derriere had already been stellar before but now it was pushing galaxy-class superstar status. Her unprecedented growth spurt had turned her already tight jeans into heart-stopping low-riders that conformed to all her new womanly goodness like a second skin.

His eyes ran down the swan-like curve of her softly sculpted back, over the adorable dimples just above her butt crack and latched onto a picture-perfect peach that bloomed out of the top of her low denim waistline like two perfect hemispheres of rising bread dough. Her poor jeans actually creaked under the strain of containing so much feminine glory.

“Unholy shit Bernie, you’re massive! Don’t even try to tell me there’s nothing wrong with this situation.” He panted, staring at her and trying to keep himself from drooling like a lust-drunk idiot.

“Hey, if looking and feeling this amazing is wrong then I don’t wanna be right.” Bernie giggled, flexing in a fetching fashion that made her bubbly bottom bounce and her full hefty breasts sway. Then her hungry eyes found their wicked way back to his unmanageable unmentionables. “And you’re one to talk, Terry. That gorgeous stallion of yours isn’t exactly small.“

Terry looked down to find that yes, indeed, his stupendous shaft was out and about, enjoying the cool morning breeze and warm sunshine. More rigid than a pillar of rebar steel and thrumming like a supercharged engine, it stirred like an awakened leviathan rising thickly from the depths of his left kneecap all the way up to knock against his sternum.

“Looks like I’m not the only one getting bigger...” Bernie moaned, squeezing her exceptionally expanded tit-flesh together and lewdly tweaking a hard nipple.

Terry blinked rapidly as his enormously inflated balls rumbled and then pulsed in rapid response to her relentless teasing, sending a tidal wave of raging male hormones crashing through the rest of his lean body. His head spun from a blow of intoxicating lust that hit Terry so quick and powerfully it felt more akin to a blazing surge of fury.

“Well, we can’t stay out here looking like this.” He growled through clenched teeth as he rounded the car stalking towards her with his gargantuan giga-cock leading the way like a foot-long divining rod. “So get that big ass inside right now before I spank it black and blue, you fat-chested amazon!”

“That’s more like it! Catch me if you can, Stud.”

“An opportunity appointment? Explain to me in no uncertain terms, High Phsycophant Qwaizoo. What precisely is an opportunity appointment?”

“Certainly, Grand Scrutineer Dhuussod.” Qwaizoo replied dutifully, “An opportunity appointment is when the Prime Smack—may they remain ever gel...”

“Yes, Yes, dispense with the formalities and get on with the explaining!” The Grand Scrutineer snapped, his glistening lappets twitching in agitation.

The High Phsycophant winced internally at the egregious lapse in protocol but kept his exterior face calm as he continued.

“It’s when the Prime Smack gives us the opportunity to appoint a new crew-member of their choosing. " He finished dryly, before adding for total transparency and clearest clarification. “Like Flunky third class; Bhamme.”

The Grand Scrutineer and Head Researcher Extraordinarius simmered down at that revelation, lowering himself into the bubbling command pool flashing thoughtful shades of pastel yellow.

“That blundering fool?” He asked, shooting furtive glances with his eye-stalks at the crew-mate in question. “Do you think he is… Connected?”

“I couldn’t say, Grand Scrutineer.” Qwaizoo confessed honestly, “But I might hypothesize that someone is connected to Flunky Third Class Bhamme enough to want him shipped off to the other side of the galaxy.”

“An embarrassment to a member of the Prime Smack then perhaps?” Dhuussod mused, staring down the sloping deck of the bridge. “That seems like a distinct possibility. What duties have you assigned him, Qwaizoo?”

Oh ho, they were back on a first name basis now were they? The High Psychophant was savvy enough not to question his superiors capricious moods.

“He is tasked with monitoring the environmental controls, Grand Scrutineer.” He reported smoothly.

“Environmental controls? Those are a fully automated function of the ship’s internal systems, what does he do with them?”

“You are, as always, correct Grand Scrutineer and he monitors them.” Qwaizoo replied.

In truth it was the least important task he could find aboard the ship to occupy the bumbling Flunkies time. He literally just had to float there and do nothing but High Psychophant Qwaizoo was still receiving complaints from his crew that various areas of the vessel were feeling uncomfortably warm...

Just then, the unwelcome voice of the ship’s most junior crew-member interrupted their hushed conversation.

“Ummm... Grand Scrutineer, something is going on with the Hootnams. Are they supposed to chase each other around like that?”

Bernie burst through the front door in a fit of gleeful giggles with Terry hot on her heels.

“Come and get it- Oh!” The statuesque blonde coed skidded to a sudden halt. “Hey there, Amy. Long time no see.“

Amy?!

Terry wasn’t as nimble on his feet as the freshly-minted wonder woman in front of him and crashed full-tilt into the back of her. Bernie didn’t even stagger as he pancaked himself against her firm body, his cock blessedly coming to rest uninjured in the pillowy valley of her epic ass cleavage with the bulbous tip running a thrilling line up the satin smooth runway of her arching spine.

“Eeep! Who are... wait, Bernice? Is that really you?” His wife-to-be sounded shocked, as well she might be. They were all supposed to be at work today. “What’s happened to you and why are you in my home?“

This was bad.

Terry had been counting on a few hours alone to come to... ahem, grips with his... erm, growing problems. He sure as shit didn’t want his beloved fiance getting caught up in his beyond strange situation but it was a bit late for that now.

Terry had some ’splaining to do.

“Hi Baby,” He said, poking his face around Bernie’s side, keeping his massive manhood hidden deep in the crack of her spectacular bubble butt. He had to lean pretty far out to make eye contact past the young woman’s monumental bosom. “Did classes end early...”

Amy was a research assistant and tutor at the local community college. She was pushing for a more permanent position in the wake of a series of new grants the institution had recently received but Terry’s voice trailed off when he caught an eyeful of the love of his life.

“...whatcha doing?” He ended lamely.

Amy was currently perched half-undressed on their living room couch. Her beautiful, toned figure exhibited in a matching set of black lycra panties and bra with her powder pink blouse hanging loosely open off one delicate shoulder. Her bare knees had snapped tightly shut but that just trapped one dainty hand between her slender milky thighs.

“Terry? Why are you...” She looked mortified, then her eyes narrowed in suspicion looking from him to Bernie’s towering form. “What am I doing? That should be what I am asking you!”

“Don’t worry, Amy. This isn’t what it looks like.” Bernie chimed in unhelpfully as she ground her robust hips back a fraction, effectively dry-humping his raging mega-boner with her gloriously rolling rump through her straining jeans. Terry’s knees almost buckled at the sinful sensation.

“I can see what it looks like.” Amy huffed, pulling her blouse closed and tossing her long chestnut curls back over her shoulder. “Terry, what’s going on here? You and Bernice aren’t...“

“No! It’s not like that, Baby.” Terry cried, his voice hitching as Bernie gave her flexing fanny a couple of toe-curling micro-twerks. “There was a... a problem at work.”

“A biiiig~ problem.” Bernie confirmed, with a sinuous wiggle.

“At the store? Is everything alright?” Amy settled back into the couch looking concerned. “Miss Gwendoline didn’t give you more trouble did she? We could make a case for harassment...”

“Ha! No... I don’t think Gwen, I mean Miss Gwendoline is going to be a problem anymore.” Terry suppressed a gasp as Bernie surreptitiously bounced one thick ass-cheek and then the other on either side of his tortured twitching totem. “It’s more of a... medical concern.”

“Yep and I’m looking after him. His medication requires regular oral administration.” Bernie snickered, giving her hips the shade of shimmer and setting Terry’s aching balls on edge.

The wicked cock-hungry slut was doing this on purpose and loving it. She had Terry trapped and she knew it. He couldn’t flee without exposing Amy to his contagious condition but if Bernie kept this up, he was going to redecorate the ceiling...

“Terry, come sit and talk to me please.” Amy pleaded, patting the couch cushion beside her and smiling weakly at Bernie. “Thanks for bringing him home, Bernice. I’m sure you need to get back to work.”

“Nope, I’m doing just fine right where I am.” Terry could hear the devilish smirk in her voice as his throbbing jewels roared for release. “...Aren’t I, Stud?”

Terry let out a heartfelt groan as she mashed her ripe clenching cheeks against his rocky girth and actually made them clap together.

He would have broken into a spontaneous round of applause himself if Amy didn’t look so worried. This was bad, bad, bad and he was so fucking close to blowing...

“Stud?!” Amy squawked, shooting to her feet.

“Yeah, as in Super-Stud!” The teasing blonde terror cackled, now opening grinding her jiggling backside onto Terry’s turgid immensity. “Terry’s totally, like, a moon-shooting cum-blasting monster-cocked Hunk these days. Wanna see?“

Before anyone could protest Bernie reached behind her waist, seized his rampant man-meat in an iron grip and dragged it downwards. Terry nearly yodeled in electrified pleasure as his bulging, bubbling crown slid across the silky smooth skin of her back, down over her perfect peach of a rear and into the mouth-watering gap between her denim-clad thighs.

“Here he cums for you, Amy. Open wide and say aaah~!”

“Bernie, NOOOooo~!” He wailed, caught up in a head-spinning vortex of rapturous ecstasy and horrified dismay as the lusty young she-wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing thrust her juicy toned booty all the way back to his pelvis.

Such fantabulous friction...

Amy’s face fell slack as his tremendous tumescent tip sprouted from between the crowing blondes muscular legs and erupted like Ol’ Faithful itself.