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Tara and the Presidents - Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2019-05-17 05:00:01 +0000 UTC
3.
When Tara awoke, the sunlight was streaming through the window. As she became conscious, through the disoriented sleepiness, she began to become aware that she was engulfed in a wave of intense pleasure. Slowly, she realized that she was in her own bed. And her hand was underneath the covers, gripping her erection that had returned in her sleep, masturbating herself, on the brink of orgasm.
Oh no, I’m doing it again..!
Unable to stop herself, she desperately slammed her fist up and down until release, ejaculating uncontrollably all over her sheets, feeling warm semen splash on her flat stomach.
“Ughh!”
Repulsed with herself, she jumped out of bed, end up back in front of the mirror again.
She stared at herself, semen welling up and spilling over from the head of her swollen phallus, globs of it dripping down her toned abs, covering her long, slender fingers.
Tara felt her face flushing at the mess she had made of herself but tried to ignore it, automatically going to her camera and turning it on before she quite realized what she was doing.
She stood there flustered for a moment, nearly shutting it back off again to clean herself up first.
Be scientific, she told herself, with a brusque shake of her head, her blonde mane bouncing. Forget the emotions.
“Exposure day plus two”, she said, trying to collect herself, but she couldn’t help but notice the breathy, husky way she said it. Her voice seemed to have changed as well. “I’ve inadvertently manually stimulated myself while asleep and experienced what amounts to nocturnal emission.”
Not really, but whatever.
“The effects of exposure appear to be intact and currently unabated in any observable way. Despite having climaxed, the urge to continue masturbation is still strong and overpoweringly compulsory.”
She glanced at the box of examination gloves on the desk, then down at her already semen coated hand, the decision to masturbate already made without actually having had decided.
Disgusting, she thought once more. She should wash her hands off and then put some gloves on before touching this dirty thing again.
You already touched it with your bare hand, she answered herself. What’s the big deal to touch it again now?
Tara tried to identify where this sudden thought originated, whether it was out of rational practicality, or… something else…
Regardless, it was objectively true -- her hand was already as… messy… as her male anatomy.
But… there just seemed something so wrong about it… it was just so… dirty... Soiled, covered with… sticky, dripping semen… and then she’d be smearing it all over herself…
The idea seemed so repulsive, and yet she felt her nipples tightening.
You’re just going to do it again? Tara asked herself. What happened to not touching it anymore?
Well, it was too late… she’d already done it. So, there wasn’t any point in starting over. Was there?
Whatever the case, she ought to at least wash up and put some gloves on for goodness sake.
Screw it, Tara thought abruptly, grabbing her erection with her sticky bare hand.
Whatever reservations she’d had were gone an instant later. She gasped anew at how good it felt, starkly different from the latex from the previous day. Now her hand was soft and warm, feminine, diametrically opposite to her hard, hot shaft. The second orgasm came quickly, easily, and she let out a soft moan as the semen shot out, splashing over the mirror again.
“Ohhh...”
***
“Not again.” Tara said it aloud. “You’re not going to do it again.”
She was back in front of the mirror, having went through the same motions as the day before; she had gone to the bathroom and washed her hands, wiped off her dribbling… thing… and then put on a pair of panties and cleaned up the mess she had made. The wastebasket was full of crumpled, sticky paper towels.
She might have cried out of desperation, if that feeling wasn’t so overwhelmed by the ever present, intensifying arousal and the frustration born out of her resolve to repress it.
I can’t… I can’t fight this forever…
I have to think of something…
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t think of anything, not with this maddening, all consuming need, eclipsing any notion of logic or reason.
She stared at herself, the bulging in front of her panties, the thick head protruding out of the waistband, a small glistening bead of precum welling up from the tip even now. It twitched as a new wave of agitation stirred inside of herself, pressed against the thin fabric.
“I won’t… I won’t do it,” she muttered. But she had to do something…
A small whimper of frustration escaped her lips. Tara felt the resistance in her mind crumbling, her fingers twitching, and then her hand drifting towards it, the hot pulsing organ that wanted to be touched so badly…
But just as she nearly made contact, she pulled her hand away slightly and then moved it down, below it, between her legs, rubbing her slit through the soaked fabric. She let out a shuddery exhale of relief and pleasure, even as the desire continued to burn.
Tara pulled her panties to the side, mindful not to touch her phallus, and she gasped as her fingertips brushed up against her blonde, glistening mound. Her eyes slid closed as two fingers slipped inside of her wet folds.
She bit her plump bottom lip, breathing loudly through her nose as she pumped in and out of herself. The pleasure from fingering herself was greater than she had ever known and provided some satiation, but even as she stimulated herself, she was still saliently aware of her erection just above, craving her touch, wanting release.
She ignored it, working her fingers in and out of herself, settling for what relief she could get without compromising her determination. And indeed she could feel the pleasure growing, building towards a climax.
She leaned forward, resting a forearm against the cool mirror glass, the other hand busy between her legs, and she pressed her forehead up against the mirror as well, her eyes open now, locking with her reflection, her nostrils flaring with each rapid inhale and exhale, fogging the glass. She was close, she was nearly there…
The pressure was building incredibly as her fingers plunged in and out of her sex, lubrication dripping down her hand, Tara steadfastly attempting to disregard her cock, which was twitching and throbbing, growing rock hard, pulling away from her belly, straining against the flimsy material containing it, and then with a choked cry Tara orgasmed, pussy gushing, and as it happened, she felt the pressure in her cock building to an intolerable limit and then releasing as well, shooting hot semen straight up, splashing her stomach and tits, and after two strong spurts, it was too much, too intense, impossible to resist any longer.
Her fingers left her convulsing pussy, and she yanked her cock free of her tangled panties, jacking it hard as she squirted her load, pulse after throbbing pulse, coating the mirror once again, compulsively working her hand back and forth, mouthing hanging open, letting out a low, loud groan, until finally her peak subsided.
Tara collapsed to her knees, sweating and trembling, gasping for breath.
“No more...
“I won’t do this anymore…”
But even as she said it, she felt the need beginning anew, her dripping cock still hot and hard and ready… Ready for more stimulation. Ready for more touching. Ready for more pleasure.
The rest of the day was spent cleaning up and making a mess, over and over again.
***
“Exposure day plus 3, session 1,” Tara said.
She was on her knees in the floor in front of the mirror, legs splayed wide unabashedly. Her hand moving up and down between them in a series of long, hard strokes. The camcorder silently recorded.
“Effects still unchanged.”
“Still really horny,” Tara said, breathing hard. “I mean… aroused…”
“My cock, um.. I mean erection is still present… “
Tara gave a shake of her blonde head, trying focus herself despite the distracting, intense impulses.
“It is becoming increasingly clear that the changes induced through exposure were not exclusively physiological. There is growing evidence of some component of mental corruption as well.
“In my internal monologue, I’ve begun referring to this thing as my ‘cock’.”
It twitched in her hand as she said it. Some part of herself liked saying it.
“Vulgar language has invaded my vernacular lexicon, and I derive sexual satisfaction from its usage.
“I’ve been experiencing involuntary mental images of graphic, lewd thoughts as well, and prurient visual stimulation also heightens the state of arousal.
“As example, I really enjoy watching my big tits bouncing as I get myself off,” she said, her voice gradually rising higher in excitement.
As if to accentuate the point, Tara groaned loudly.
“Sorry,” she said, apologizing to the empty room. “Trying really hard to stay scientific, but I just need to cum so bad…”
In Tara’s limited prior sexual experiences, she had hardly ever been vocal in bed, being very self conscious, never letting out more than perhaps a little sigh. But now it just felt so natural and those reservations seemed to have vanished completely; she moaned loudly, unrestrainedly as she continuing to stroke herself, her slim thighs flexing as she bounced up and down on her knees, hips thrusting forward, humping her fist.
“I know I’m not supposed to touch this big, dirty cock, but I just can’t help it… It just… feels too good…
“Need to make more of a mental effort to counter the effects… but it’s really difficult when I’m so turned on.
“I think I’ll be able to regain some mental clarity once I’ve stroked and rubbed this filthy, disgusting cock and made some more semen come out…
“Unnnnghhh yea,” she groaned as ejaculation poured out in thick squirts, covering the mirror yet again.
Even as her orgasm subsided, Tara’s hand still moved steadily up and down, rivulets of sticky white fluid running over her hand and spattering all over.
“Ohhh… you sick fuck... “ she said, shaking her head at her reflection, her blonde tresses swaying, massive chest heaving. “So disgusting… disgusting slut...
“You shouldn’t be doing this…
“You’re a college scholar,” Tara admonished herself as her fist ceaselessly pumped away. “You’re an intern, you’re going to be an award-winning molecular biologist...
“Not some… some mindless animal…
"I'll figure this out... Just need to cum a little more...
“And then I’ll stop…
"Just a little more and I’ll stop…”
***
“Exposure day….unnnghhh… plus 4… Mmmm… Session… uh.. . 4? 5? Who fucking knows…” Tara panted, moaning, standing with her legs spread, her hand busy between, jacking herself off. Her observation standards were starting slide a bit as she’d already gotten off a few times before she remembered to turn the camera on, the mirror already heavily coated with her ejaculations.
“Let’s see, ummm… Not much changes… still horny as fuck… still have this hot, banging body and giant titties..
“…big, fat dick…
“God, it feels so fucking good when this hot cum… squirts out..
“I need to cum more…”
She fell to her knees, leaned over, forehead pressed against the mirror as she continued to get herself off, her mouth hanging open, panting loudly. She looked at her beautiful reflection, eyes half closed in lust, full lips parted, and she licked the glass, in a slow, sensuous perverted way.
“Oh… I know what’s new… Been having lucid fantasies of actively copulating with a female…”
Cum dripped down the mirror surface from above, and Tara made no effort to move, instead smearing it against her cheek, lapping up it up with slow, depraved licks.
Licking up the cum from your own cock... you are disgusting, she thought. What’s happened to you?
But Tara was so hot and horny, it didn’t bother her in the slightest. She’d stayed up late last night, trying to do research into how to counteract her condition, and had ended up just watching porn and jerking off…
Sometimes she had rubbed her slit as she stroked her cock, and as she slid her fingers in and out of herself, Tara had found herself wondering how her dick would feel buried inside something that felt like that, first with some shocked self-disgust and repulsion, which faded as the night went on, replaced by a prurient curiosity and growing lust. As she watched the dirty videos, she became more and more focused on the male performers, imagining how good it felt for them, sticking their big, erect cocks into a warm, wet, tight hole. She stroked herself in time, matching the pace, and soon in her mind, it was her own cock slamming in and out of the various hot, slutty porn stars...
And now, the only thing on her mind were endless fantasies about how it would feel to spread a nasty slut’s legs and stick her hard cock in a dripping, tight pussy or having some whore with a wet, willing mouth sucking down her cum.
She climaxed again then, whipping back her head, teeth clenched, and then cried out when her cock spewed forth.
“Mmmmm fuck!!”
