“Amanda, why is the doorknob sticky?” Justin said. It was covered in a sappy goo that made it hard to turn the knob, and that stuck to Justin’s palm. He examined his hand. The goo glistened under the stark white lighting of the apartment complex. It smelled, too, strongly, like cedar and whiskey. He brought his hand closer to his face to sniff at it.
“I don’t know, is it locked?” Amanda said. She was businesslike in a ponytail. Justin knew from experience that she constantly changed her hair, went from flowing locks to ponytail to straight to wavy, to match her mood and intent. A ponytail was for serious business. “Just try to open it if it isn’t locked.”
“No shit,” Justin silently mouthed.
“I didn’t try to turn it. It’s sticky. It’s weird.”
“Turn the knob,” Amanda instructed. She eyed Justin. He was slender and weedy. He had mentioned working out, but it didn’t show. He was sporting a blonde beard that barely dusted his face. It was a new feature since the break up.
“Alright, fine.”
Justin turned the knob, opened the door, and the scent rolled out. It was pungent and complex, and difficult to put a name to. Not garbage, but in the same group. Organic, rich, earthy. Not sweat but close to it, like the aftermath of a marathon. It had character and volume, and instantly stuck to their clothes.
“Holy god,” Justin said. They looked at each other. “What in the hell is that? Is it even safe to go in there?”
Amanda sniffed again. But already it was receding, the initial shock giving way to a background that the two inhaled with every breath. “No I... I mean, it doesn’t smell BAD. It’s probably... incense. Or something.”
“Your sister doesn’t strike me as the incense type,” Justin peeked his head into the apartment. The lights were off. “Pot? But no. But maybe?” That seemed even less likely. Brianna was Amanda, but with triple the drive and all of the ambition.
They stood there for awhile, just taking it in, breathing it. Until it almost seemed to go away, no longer noticed.
“Well, lets go in,” Justin concluded. He checked his hand. The goo had already dried.
“It’s probably nothing.”
September 4
I’ve arrived. Found an apartment immediately. Someone is putting huge apartment tracts in on the outskirts of town. No one seems to be living in them. Odd. But works fine for me.
The entry way was covered in clothes. Clothes in heaps, clothes on either side, with just a narrow walkway of bare carpet between the two. They had been piled on top of each other, then carelessly kicked to the side.
“When’s the last time you were here?” Justin asked.
“I’ve never been here. Brianna moved out here for a story, she said. Or something like that. Several months ago,” Amanda said.
“Does she usually use the floor for a closet?”
“She ironed her underpants,” Amanda said. “At least, she did when she lived at home. And she put her sweaters away by color.”
“Here’s one of them,” Justin said. It was a thin, filmy sweater, if that. More like a gauze. And in a bright, shiny yellow. And underneath it was what was obviously a pair of boy underpants. Briefs. “Maybe the boyfriend is a bad influence.”
“She didn’t mention a boyfriend,” Amanda said. She poked at the tighty-whities. “That accounts for the smell, I guess.”
“Wow, look at this,” Justin said. He pulled out what first looked like a black handkerchief, but which was, when allowed to fall free, a lacy black pair of panties.
“Let go of my sister’s underwear! God,” Amanda said sharply. But the tiny wads were everywhere, when she looked around. It was like Brianna had instituted a no-underwear policy in the house. And all so brightly colored.
The living room was a little better. There was a large couch, which appeared clean. The carpet was visible. The coffee table, however, was thick with magazines piled in moldering stacks. That, at least, didn’t surprise Amanda. Brianna was a journalist.
“We should check those for, I don’t know,” it sounded stupid to say but Amanda forced it out anyway. “Clues.”
“Like scooby-doo? C’mon,” Justin rounded on her. He pointedly raised an eyebrow. “Amanda, what is this? You told me you needed a ride and that I owed you one because you let me keep the cat. And I said okay because I didn’t want to get into it with you and I wanted to see if you were serious when you said ‘lets be friends.’ What is this? All you said is you needed to help Brianna with something.”
Amanda chewed on her lip. “I’m worried about her. I haven’t heard from her in a week.”
“I don’t hear from my siblings for months. So what.”
“Yeah, but we talk all the time. And she sent me a bunch of messages that were... weird.”
Amanda keyed up her phone and handed it over. Justin scrolled down a list of chat topics. “Hey, you’re talking about me. Don’t like the beard, huh?”
Amanda flushed. “Skip to the end.”
“I should defriend you on facebook if you’re gonna keep tabs on me. Okay.”
He read the last several messages. First: “Amanda I’m getting weirded out here.” Then: “LOL this is so strange.” and finally: “mmfklaxkk”.
“So she pocket texted you and had a weird day.”
“And she sent a video.” Amanda keyed it up.
It was a grainy video of Brianna apparently in the dark. She was smiling, and her white teeth and her eyes were all that were easy to see. “Manda,” she said, and giggled. “It’s so fucked here. So fucking fucking fuck fucked. You gotta come get me.” Another titter. “Oh my god I have to go, haha. Byeeee!”
And it closed out.
“I lived with Brianna for fifteen years and that’s double the number of giggles I ever saw out of her. I’m worried she got into, I don’t know, drugs or something,” Amanda said.
“So you brought me here to deal with a possible drug dealer situation.”
“You said you’d been working out,” Amanda pouted.
“Well,” Justin conceded. “That’s true.”
September 8
I’m not used to being treated like meat. Girl meat. The guys in this town all seem to think I want a hand on my ass. I’ve slapped three. This is way beyond rural. Something is up. I think my source was right.
The magazine on the very top of the pile was hardcore pornography. An explicit and glistening shot of a pussy, glistening wetly, with a vacant-eyed blonde spreading her cunt lips with two fingers. She had clearly put on a bikini top just to shove it down to expose her tits. It was entitled “HIGH RISK”.
The two college students sat down on the couch. Justin idly picked up the magazine. Underneath it was a dog-eared exotic clothing catalog, and beneath that, the latest Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.
“Don’t open it,” Amanda said, disgusted. “It’s... gross.”
“We’re supposed to find out what’s going on, and this is clearly out of character, right?” Justin said. He flipped in a few pages. “Maybe Brianna is reading it for the articles.”
There weren’t any articles. There were beaver shots and pictorials of wet, raw fucking between a guy and a girl. They all seemed to end with a closeup of a dazed, satisfied hottie with sperm dribbling out of her. Justin crossed his legs to avoid revealing a sudden, pulsing erection.
Amanda noticed anyway. “Don’t tell me that’s a turn-on.”
“It’s an automatic reaction. It’s biological. And what, were you watching my pants? I crossed my legs right away!” Justin said. He uncrossed them, let himself bulge, looked Amanda straight in the eyes.
“So this a turn-on for you?” Amanda said. She grabbed the magazine, flipped the stack. “See, the ones on the bottom are normal. Here’s The Economist. Time. Maybe it’s research.”
“I don’t know, look at the fashion one. She’s got outfits circled.” And the trampier the better. One halter top with sequins was circled in black marker with an exclamation point next to it. And another circle was around miniskirts sold in a ten-pack of neon colors. “And yes, girls having sex with boys are a turn-on. Maybe that’s why we broke up.”
Amanda pinkened. “We had sex. Also I had made a personal note not to mention it but I broke up with you. I was really, really trying hard not to mention it.”
“And we’ve been here for what, ten minutes?” Justin shook his head. It occurred to him that his erection still hadn’t gone down. Well, it wasn’t hurting anyone. “Plus you always made me use a condom.”
“I’m not on the pill! And IUDs are—anyway, we’ve had this argument, and we broke up, and now we don’t need to have it.” Amanda said.
They sat in silence.
Justin turned on the TV.
“What do you want to bet it’s set to porno?” he asked. He was disappointed when a green, verdant field appeared on screen. Brianna’s TV was an ancient model that flickered and distorted. “Some sort of infomercial for a cow milking machine. Disappointing. I guess this is high entertainment in the boonies.”
September 15
Today I faced facts. The girls in this town stay at home and, I don’t know, knit. If they aren’t pregnant they’re probably still nursing. Only the guys work and they only want one thing. So I’m going out on a date with a guy named Marcus, and will smile vacantly and wear a dress and maybe then I’ll finally learn something.
Justin took a minute to stare at Amanda’s ass as they went into the bedroom. He had never really gotten to know it during their three-month relationship. Amanda believed that sex needed to have rules and boundaries, and there were so many that he hadn’t even tried to get close and personal with her rear.
It was too bad. Amanda’s ass was her best feature. Her tits were ordinary and, anyway, concealed in a thick and austere white bra. She had cute brown eyes and a pert, upturned nose, but it was her well-padded ass in narrow jeans that had gotten his attention. But even when they were dating—hell, even when they were having sex—she had, at best, turned icy and uncomfortable when he had even his hands on her ass.
He didn’t even want to fuck her ass. Just play with it. It seemed so reasonable.
His erection hadn’t quite managed to go away. What was wrong with it? Usually the presence of a frowning ex-girlfriend sent it into a deep freeze. Justin chalked it up to the scent in the air. Just when he had forgotten it, his body acclimated, it would remind him with some new heady, musky note. And it was getting stronger as they approached the bedroom.
September 21
Marcus is such a sweet guy. I feel bad pumping him for information. At least he’s getting something out of it—my boobs are practically mauled. He let slip that the big factory in town does a ton of pharmaceutical and chemical research.
I know he’s holding something back. Luckily the stores in town are chock-full of makeup and cosmetics. I will get this out of him.
“The bed is broken,” Amanda reported, nervous.
“What, like, someone broke it?” Justin said. He snatched his eyes from her rear end just in time. “Like, violently?”
The bedroom had thick carpeting with large bookcases stacked up against the wall. They stood silently in the gloom, resting against the wall.
“I don’t know! It’s just... It has a weird slant to it. In the middle.”
Light streamed in through a half-shut window, the shade badly askew. Justin pulled it all the way open, illuminated the bedroom. Outside, acres of pasture rolled into the distance, with the short houses of the distant town of Calving barely visible.
Revealing the stack of vibrators on the bedside table.
They were piled haphazardly in an obscene display of different neon colors, punctuated by dark black and a few bright pink. They both gaped at the stack. It was like some erotic altar.
“Oh god, what the hell?” Amanda said. She strode forward, put her hand on one, and just as quickly snatched it away.
“It’s still sticky,” she said, staring at her palm, disturbed.
“Oh, well, that’s a clue,” Justin said, helpfully.
Amanda stared at him.
“Because it hasn’t dried totally yet. Look, I’m just trying to help.”
“Find a garbage bag or something,” Amanda said. “I want to.. we’ll toss them in.”
“Are you sure?” Justin examined the pile. Despite himself, the image of the icy Brianna melting underneath a vibrating toy was an attractive one. They glistened in the sunlight. Every last one of them. “Maybe we should leave them as is.”
“I’m not leaving a pile of vibrators around!” Amanda exclaimed. There was a note of hysteria in her voice.
“I’m not even sure which one to grab that won’t make them all topple. These are load-bearing vibrators.”
“Justin, c’mon,” Amanda pleaded. “This is all very scary and weird and you’re cracking jokes. My sister having a big pile of sex toys is not normal. Lets just.. get rid of them. Sweep them under the bed, then.”
She looked upset, very small, and unexpectedly attractive with her lips in a pout. Justin relented. It WAS weird, he told himself. So why was he getting turned on? “If this is what’s on the bedside table I don’t think we want to look under the bed,” he said.
Amanda took a long, deep breath. It calmed her more then it should’ve. Brianna is probably fine, she told herself. She’s out. You can’t call the police about your sister’s sex life. She’s probably out with a boyfriend or something. Just hang around and wait.
She took another glance at the vibrators, and couldn’t help but wonder how any girl got that many inches up their puss—vagina.
September 24
Geez, the weekend just got away from me. Marcus is an animal. Such a study in contrasts. On dates he likes to drink milk and eat hamburgers and talk about his hiking. In the bedroom he is totally, completely.. wonderfully insatiable.
I need to get on the pill, fast.
The kitchen was well-stocked. Very well-stocked.
“What are these brands, even?” Justin marveled. “O’s O’s? What is that? Double Cheese Spray? Look at all this stuff. It’s like a discount supermarket attacked.”
Amanda sat at the kitchen table in the center of the room. The kitchen, at least, was spotless. It had, in fact, been thoroughly and recently scrubbed, and the linoleum shone with a polished luster. After the disarray and sexual motifs of the past few rooms it was a relief.
Justin hadn’t been the worst boyfriend in the world. They had some mutual interests, they had met in a biology study group where they were both the standouts. He had the capacity to be thoughtful and intelligence to be witty.
It was the snark that had did him in—his fatal flaw. The drive to make some droll, smartass remark about everything around him, and then, eventually, about her.
Also he kept trying to touch her ass.
“Look at this fridge. It’s like the milk had a party and invited all their friends,” Justin said. There were eight entire gallons in plastic jugs, none of them marked in any way whatsoever. “Weird. Isn’t there a dairy around here? Maybe Brianna was investigating that. Something up with the milk.”
It was, Amanda admitted, a good suggestion. She gave her ex a critical appraisal. Slim, a little too slim, he had a tiny puft of chest hair that was a little sad. But he had dark blue eyes that were still a bit mesmerizing, when he fixed her with a full stare.
Which he was doing now.
“Amanda? You there?” he said. “Check out the meat department. Slab upon slab of bacon. But Brianna is a vegetarian, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Amanda said. “My family used to hide one egg in something at Thanksgiving dinner. Our once-a-year way of fighting back against the tyranny. I don’t know. All of this is pointing towards her having some slovenly boyfriend who likes meat and humping.”
Justin leaned back against the sink. “Hey, I was never slovenly, at least.”
“I never said you were,” Amanda said. “Look, since we’re broken up and we can be adults about it,” she emphasized the word adult. “What was with you and my butt, anyway?”
“I thought it was sexy as hell and I wanted to fuck it,” Justin said.
“Oh,” Amanda said, after a moment.
She had expected some shitty remark. Even Justin looked a little taken aback.
Suddenly the ass in question felt a little warmer.
September 27
As a journalist I try to remind myself that I should be absorbing local color. Getting under people’s skin. If I was in Afghanistan I would be in a hijab, I’m sure.
And since I’m in the country I’m... getting country boobs. It’s okay. And yeah I’m wearing a gingham dress, Marcus got it for me. The good news is, he’s going to give me a factory tour.
Man, so horny.
He started to cook without really thinking about it. It was breakfast time, they were in an amazingly well-stocked kitchen, and cooking was something Justin knew how to do. Also, Brianna had three different types of bacon, apparently artisan, and thick crusty bread for french toast and eggs fresh from the farm. All of which was sizzling on cast-iron skillets before Justin put too much thought in it.
“This milk is absolutely god damn delicious,” he announced, after trying a sip. And then downing an entire glass.
“It doesn’t even have an expiration date on it,” Amanda said.
“Amanda, it tastes like the cow is still walking away on wobbly legs. Seriously. Here, have a glass.”
He poured a glass entirely full. Amanda rolled it around, reluctant.
“Trust me!” Justin said.
She hesitated, then drank. And drank. And didn’t stop until the glass was empty and she could feel it sloshing around her insides.
“Well that didn’t disappoint.” she said. “Let me have another.”
It was like drinking a milkshake, but pure, creamy, wonderful. Sugary, almost. It was soothing, too, washing away her concerns about Brianna in a white tide of calming cow juice. And then left her suddenly starving.
“Do you still dunk your bacon in syrup?” Justin asked. “I could never get over that.”
“It’s better that way!”
“Ugh, so wrong. Look, this is going to be the best bacon ever, so trust me, leave off with the corn syrup bath.”
He watched her down another entire glass of milk. For something so all-american and wholesome it was surprisingly... erotic. Her clean, high cheekbones and heart-shaped face guzzling cream, lips bobbing on the glass. Strange how horny he was. If she said “lets fuck”... Justin forced the image away. He was hard enough already.
The relationship hadn’t been all denial and demand. Amanda had firmly believed that the occasional blowjob was an important part of a healthy relationship, and had put her drive and ability into doing a good job. He could still picture her ponytail bouncing as she worked hard on his cock, the tip hitting the back of her throat. The only caveat was an insistence that he finish, at best, on her tits.
Justin really wanted a blowjob about now.
He channeled it instead into a roaring stove and the production of a mountainous pile of meats, starches, and glass after glass of the perfectly pristine milk.
October 2
Jackpot. The factory is something else. Absolutely state of the art. Weird shit going on. And such a bizaare vibe—a few nerds supervising a workforce of hunks and studs. Plus the town pastor’s picture was up on the wall.
The guys were so drool-worthy it was tough to concentrate but I swiped a keycard. Gonna try my hand at hacking.
Amanda’s waistband felt tight.
It had been a piggish—she checked her phone—thirty-odd minutes. A grunting, animal-like food purge. She felt sluggish, satiated, tired. Like all of her was coursing with warm milk.
“What was that?” she said, slowly. Her mouth was sticky. She had avoided syrup for bacon—Justin was right—but had poured it on for the pancakes that had appeared at some point. It was the good stuff, too, real maple. “Did we just eat.. everything?”
Justin tried to say something, then swallowed. “Yeah, I guess so.” The air was smoky with burnt grease. The scent of cooking temporarily pushed away the still-present odor of—of whatever it was. Amanda tried to open her mouth and failed, sealed shut with sugar.
“I wonder where all that is gonna settle,” she finally said, looking down. “That was what, five pounds of protein? I can feel it in my thighs already.”
Justin snorted. It came out piggish and odd. “Come on. Whenever you managed to eat something it went to your boobs. You’d be like, oh darn it, now I have to break out the bigger bra, Justin stop trying to feed me.”
“I was happy with my body. That’s a good thing. You don’t want a girl who wants bigger tits,” Amanda said. It was an argument they had had before. Except she hadn’t said “tits”. “Boobs. Breasts.”
It was very warm in the kitchen.
“I’m a guy, Amanda,” Justin said. He sat back in his chair.
It was a new tack. Usually he had made some stupid comment about big boobs opening the door for her. But this time it was right—he was a guy. He wanted a girl. Guys loved girls with big titties. Why had she shut that down? All it meant was he cooked for her.
“I guess you’ll get your wish, then. I’m thinking double-d after all this.”
“You ah—you’ve got something on your face,” Justin said.
Amanda dabbed at her lips with one of the few clean napkins.
“No I mean, your entire face. Yeah. You’re all sticky.”
“Oh.” Looking like a syrup clown in front of her Ex—great. Amanda stood up abruptly, wobbled as she sloshed with milk. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, then. I guess we’re just gonna hang out and see if Brianna comes back soon. Or calls. Or something.”
“We need to eat all her food and touch all her stuff because we care for her,” Justin said, solemn.
October 5
Oh god, what is wrong with me. Marcus had to go on a business trip. So he’s gone for four-five days. I’m thinking, no problem. Well, I did the math. We’ve been fucking like, four times a day at least. More on weekends. And now I’m a junkie that got cut off.
Ughh I miss his cock. I bought a few vibrators but it is not the same. I need to be strong because there is a sexy dude down the street and I know he’d say yes.
Where everything else in the apartment was soft, dark shadows and a mysterious musk, the bathroom was bright lights and shiny, shiny plastic. Every available surface had been colonized by products, plastic products, reflecting a dull gloss in the bright and hot florescent lights.
“Geez, Brianna,” Amanda mumbled, sloshing into the bathroom. Even the toilet seat was littered with bottles and creams. She swept them aside onto the tile floor and peed for nearly two minutes.
The whole situation was either some window into a mental breakdown or something more sinister even then that. Even if Brianna had had a personal breakthrough into a whole new side of her sexuality, it was impossible to imagine her this... untidy. Even a Brianna dedicated to banging her boyfriend into the ground would do laundry afterwards. But here there were yet more bras stomped into corners, and flimsy pieces of shiny plastic clothing on the floor.
But it was—how long was she going to pee?—it was surprisingly hard to stay worried. Instead, Amanda’s thoughts kept sliding over to the boy outside.
Breaking up with Justin had been, in the end, very easy. He had been a veneer of wit covering a lot of apathy and self-indulgence, like a bad Judd Apatow movie. Snark that had been mildly transgressive and fun had very quickly turned sour.
It had all come to a head when she had been badly scared on campus by a schizophrenic homeless man who shouted BOO from inches away. Scared into sobbing, Justin had run up and comforted her with the remark, “don’t worry, tomorrow he’ll still be just a crazy guy, and you’ll be a college student.”
She had broken up with him two days later.
Amanda realized, suddenly, that she had finished peeing some time ago, had been staring mindlessly at the wall, chewing on a strand of hair. She stood up, pulled up jeans over a butt that had probably added two pounds in carbs, and looked for a soap dispenser.
If there was one, it was hidden in the forest of half-full tubes and neon pink bottles. There was one with a dispenser, but when she hit it, it squeezed way too much bright pink gunk all over her hands.
“Oh, what the hell is this?” Amanda muttered. It didn’t seem like soap—or at least, that any soap could survive in its cloying cherry scent. Amanda rubbed it over her hands—leaving them colored lightly pink—and turned on the faucet. Only for the soap to stick stubbornly as she washed.
“For fuck’s sake,” she hissed. The cherry scent even seemed to grow, filling the room. Frustrated, Amanda gave up, rubbing her hands hard against the back of her jeans and all over her shirt.
It colored both a nice hot pink. And still her hands were gunked up. But at least her clothes were ruined, stained magenta.
The cherry stink crawled up her nose. It attacked something in her already overtaxed sinuses. Amanda couldn’t stop it.
She sneezed.
And looked in the bathroom mirror to see the cherry pink smear right underneath her nose, where her hand had helpfully tried to contain the blast.
Now it really reeked of cherries. But there was a solution right next to her, if she could get there through the maze of plastic containers.
“Justin! I’m going to take a shower!” she yelled.
October 6
Ughhh Brianna why did you fuck that guy. why why why. At least you called him Marcus in bed.
So hungry lately. Maybe this guy can cook at least. Maybe it’s time to say fuck it about vegetar—whatever.
Whatever!
Naked in the room next door. Didn’t that figure.
Justin sat in the living room and browsed through pornography. It was rough stuff, glistening photos of pussies shaved down to the nubbins, followed by long pictorials of energetic fucking, followed by lazy smiles on girls as cum dripped out of some hole.
He was horny and annoyed.
Annoyed at Amanda, mostly, who had taken the thin privileges given to ex-girlfriends and horribly abused them. Asked for a two hour drive in the early, early A.M. to the boonies. Dragged him into some stupid sex den that her sister was slutting up. Then sucked up his cooking without a thank you and sauntered off with that ass in the air.
God damn was his cock hard. Justin nervously ran his fingers down it. It was a rock. Rarely had he been this horny, this fuck-focused. His prostate felt like a watermelon.
“You can’t hit on her,” Justin lectured himself. “You don’t want to. She broke you off. She did it in a coffee shop and paid for her own coffee. She cut your balls off and that’s that.”
But all his dick saw was surfaces he could be banging Amanda on. Amanda, whose bare ass was apparently stepping into the shower, her mouth wide open as the shower flooded it with wet, warm.. no. Amanda spreadeagled on the table, porno mags casually thrown around, as they got reacquainted with each other’s bodies. Sinking his face into her perfectly nice and round titties.
“Damn it,” Justin concluded, glaring at the wall separating him from her. Stupid females, getting men so hard and horny. It would be a better world if driving to investigate a stupid sister came with a tacit two-blowjob minimum.
A sad little pressure-valve handjob, then. And if she walked in on him jacking it? He would just glare at her. Justin removed his dick and let it sway in the air. It was hard, red, throbbing. Precum dribbled liberally from the tip. He rubbed at it with one hand and thumbed idly through a porno mag with the other, not bothering to find a tissue first.
It was a very different kind of masturbation. With so much dribbling precum his cock was slick and wet, and he had to slide his fingers all up and down the shaft. And as much as he tried to conjure up other sexy thoughts it was all about Amanda’s wet mouth blowing him intently while she eyed his expression. When he sprayed, it was in two long ropes that shot all the way across the coffee table and spattered on the television.
His dick briefly softened, and then, as dream-Amanda licked her fingers of sticky white Justin-cum, rose again.
“God DAMN it,” he concluded.
October 8
lol I should really send that vial in to whoever. I think I know some chemist guy? It’s important.
Felt so BAD about banging that other guy and those two other guys that I greeted Marcus in a whole new outfit. Bright red velvet dress. His eyes were like, bug-eyed!
He keeps hefting my titties, so good. I’ve been swallowing as a special treat. Marcus seems to like it.
The shower was incredible. The showerhead was detachable and oversized, and the water sprayed out from a bunch of oversized jets at high speed. It should’ve been like a jet hose, but the closeness of the stall and the steam made it like a hot rain, instead. Like bathing in a tropical monsoon.
It certainly smelled like a rain forest. There were more and more and more of the bottles here, not a single one a simple bottle marked ‘shampoo’. But there was one bigger then the rest, practically a milk jug, and whatever was inside had a pearly sheen that was probably a body wash. Amanda soaped up.
It was funny being so naked and so vulnerable with Justin right outside. Or maybe Justin was why she felt comfortable taking a shower in a strange apartment with strange decor. It was tough to admit to her confirmed-feminist self, but there was something extremely comforting about having a guy around. A guy for when they walked through the tough part of town, escort her to the car, pick up heavy things, keep an eye on her at the bar. It was... nice.
And, Amanda had to admit, Justin had been a pretty good lover. Actually very good. When she was in the mood he had the right amount of enthusiasm about getting between her thighs. And when he was there he was a considerate lover, eager for her to orgasm without pushing it too hard.
Her hands soaped her tits, over and over and over, while she thought.
Maybe she should’ve let him in the back door. Heck, he hadn’t even asked for that. He had just wanted to bang her doggy style. Amanda had refused out of shock and then dug in her heels, convinced in a vague fog of college feminism that it was demeaning, made her into a collection of body parts, reduced her to a hole to fuck.
But on the other hand, getting stretched out on the bed and letting Justin pound her senseless sounded pretty hot. Pretty fucking hot. Especially considering how he liked and actually knew how to use his hips to put that extra oomph in his thrusts. She could practically feel his balls slapping against her ass, that wonderful contended feeling of being so FULL.
The shower was getting lengthy. Amanda had soaped up her hair without really thinking about it. The pink stain on her upper lip hadn’t gone anywhere, although she had forgotten about it.
It was time to be a big girl and think of the real question: was she going to fuck Justin today? They had the entire apartment to themselves, she was getting horny, and he had definitely earned at least a handjob. And if she was going to give a handjob she might as well do a blowjob. And if she was giving out blowjobs she might as well enjoy herself.
Unnoticed, Amanda’s pubic hairs gently detached and swirled around in the drain, joining her other hair beneath the neck. One hand was everywhere, the other was spending an increasing amount of time fondling the wet and hot junction between her legs. There was so much steam all she could do was breathe vapor and feel herself.
“No,” she said, out loud. God, what if Brianna returned from wherever and found her fucking Justin on the couch? His dick buried to the hilt inside her snatch as she bounced up and down? Or if she tried to say hello and had an entire mouthful of cock? The only thing to do was to tough it out and stay chaste, which meant she had to shove the detachable shower head right up to her privates and masturbate this horniness away.
Which, when she looked down, was exactly what was already happening. With her free hand two fingers deep inside the most lubricated pussy she had ever had.
Amanda slumped against the shower wall. Bubbles popped and fizzed and some of them were inside her sluggish and overheated mind.
October 15
ugghh been such a bad journa-girl lately. Just want to stay inside and eat and fuck.
my body is all different. My titties are way bigger these days and so much more sensitive. what’s weird is that when marcus wants a blowjob (all the time) my mouth gets really wet and drooly. i mean it’s great for him but why does it do that?
got report back on vial. it’s just milk! gonna have to fuck marcus into another trip. :(
“The hell that’s a shower,” Justin said, to himself. “She’s washing a car in there or something.”
It had been ages. The plumbing creaked. Justin had amused himself first by eating an entire package of cookies—vanilla with vanilla cream—dunked down with milk. And then another package. It was kind of weird that he didn’t have to pee. He had drunk probably two, three gallons of soft, rich cream. Maybe his semi-hard erection was keeping him dry.
Next he had cycled through the TV, which was nearly 100% down-home country programming of soft fields and tractors, with a soothing farmer narration describing fertilization techniques for different crops. He had watched a description of sorghum cross-fertilization for a solid fifteen minutes, assuming it would destroy his erection, but it continued undaunted. The TV’s strange twist gave it an odd psychedelic effect.
Finally, defeated, Justin wandered off the couch and decided to check underneath the broken bed.
Two milk crate boxes, and nothing else. And yet another fetid wave rolled out at him, stunning Justin briefly. At least this time there was an explanation—several test tubes, labeled with long-ago dates, containing what looked like the same milk he had recently guzzled. The milk was still white and pure and clear, scent aside, despite the months-old dates on the tubes.
The second crate held notebooks. A bunch of them, color-coded with a bright pink one on the top. It was sticky. Justin thumbed through it, noting the neon-gel writing, and skipped to the very last entry.
Unlike the others, it was in dark black ink and tiny lettering. It read, in its entirety, “Need to detox—came so very close and hard and often. Then gotta get the disk out. Do I have Amanda’s address?”
Disk. There was a disk next to the journals. A DVD.
“The hell?” Justin said. He considered thumbing through the journals, but the disk seemed important, and, besides, he didn’t really feel like reading. So he took the existing disk out of the player, stuck the new disk in the DVD player, and sat on the couch.
It was immediately obvious that it was porn.
Amateur porn, from the unchanging camera angle and tinny audio. But enthusiastic amateur porn—both the girl and the boy were loud, violent, and expressive, grunting like rutting animals as they thrusted at each other. But it took Justin a moment to realize that the girl was Brianna.
His cock went back to full strength, like he had never jizzed just minutes ago.
It was Brianna, but a sort of.. porno Brianna. A Brianna reimagined by the adult industry, with the sexiest parts of her mock-librarian face kept and everything else tossed away. In its place was a bimbified pair of bouncing tits, a wet and lubricated body, and a pussy that she kept backing into the camera. What had to be nine, ten inches of cock pistoned in and out of her.
“Holy shit, Brianna,” Justin told the girl on screen, open mouthed. His mouth continued to hang open. The Brianna on screen was having amazing, incredible, noisy sex. The twosome switched positions almost effortlessly. At one point Brianna was up against the wall—her bedroom, Justin realized—her legs shaking as she was thrust into the paint. Then the guy would deposit her onto the bed, spread her legs gaping wide, and continue pounding away. His stroke never changed.
Justin leaned forwards. He had never been so hard. His hips jerked with the rhythm, eager to fuck something. He was breathing hard, harder, the scent burying itself deep within his head, burrowing in. He had his dick out and didn’t even really realize it, more white cum droplets spilling onto the carpet.
There was a sharp intake of breath.
“Stop JERKING OFF to my SISTER!” Amanda said.
October 28
number of orgasms today: ten. slow day!!!
found a pair of old pants and couldn’t get my big slutty butt and my cunny into them. marcus says i’m just getting sexy and stuff but idk i think something is wrong. like my bones are wider, weird.
got a video camera to do more reportery stuff but just keep taping marcus and i fucking lol.
First it had been hard to admit to herself that she was masturbating. Then, when the four fingers inside her pussy were too hard to ignore, it became hard to admit that she wasn’t going to cum.
There was a button inside of her that her fingers just couldn’t reach, shove as she would. And she had the showerhead so close to her pussy it was like a geyser down there. She was hot and frothy and wet and desperate and just not going over the edge. Amanda made a noise almost like a bleat at the very back of her throat, and reluctantly shut the water off.
Belatedly she thought to look for a towel.
There were none in the entire bathroom.
There was an overhead fan, which powered away the steam, revealing a wet and naked and frustrated Amanda in the reflection of the mirror.
Although she looked, Amanda realized, a little different? Was it the wet glare of the lights, the water still running out of her hair? That had to be it—giving her a Swimsuit Edition look with hot exposed skin, rivulets of water beading at the tip of her nipples. But they did look bigger, engorged, thick and full, two bigger boobs that pulled on her chest.
Were her LASHES longer? No, that at least had to be the water. And the pink stain under her nose was gone, although if Amanda inhaled really deeply, she could still detect notes of cherry.
She did that a few times. Cherry was pretty tasty.
“You’re just feeling sexy,” Amanda told herself, refusing to accept visual evidence. Her mind glossed over a sudden absence of body hair, a clean and pink pussy between her legs. She was feeling young and hot and it was skewing her perceptions. She would just put back on her old, boring clothes—
Clothes that were sodden and soaked in the center of the bathroom, with an overturned bottle dripping something green on them, to boot.
Amanda ran through options in her head. Call for Justin? No, telling him she was wet and helpless and horny would lead to the two of them in the shower. She might as well dress in giftwrap. Her existing clothes were ruined. But she didn’t have to walk out on Justin—the TV was on, if muffled.
The cool air in Brianna’s bedroom prickled her already oversensitive skin, sent a thrill up her exposed snatch. Justin was just behind a slightly askew door. And there she was, utterly naked. She should surprise him. It would be the ultimate test of his intentions. He should be chivalrous and get her some clothes. No, he should fuck her senseless. Or both.
She was just enough in control of her overheated body to force rational thoughts through it. She had broken up with Justin. He was not a great boyfriend and a merely attentive lover. They didn’t have any condoms and she had been frankly lax at taking her pill in the aftermath of a breakup. If he jizzed into her so hard it pulsed down her thighs—no.
“Come on, normal clothes,” Amanda groused, pulling through Brianna’s cabinet. Surely even with this sexual awakening whatever there had to be old khakis and stained t-shirts stuffed deep within. But at some point there had been a purge, and what was left was obviously skimpy, or strangely damp, or frankly stained with what was quite possibly cum.
The best she could do was a short skirt that was only modest because it was dark blue, and a gauzy cotton tanktop that sagged underneath the weight of her boobs. The outfit looked a bit sad, so Amanda retreated to the bathroom, painting her lips ruby red in some strawberry-flavored lipstick. Her hair, weirdly, was already dry.
After some weak attempts at thought she decided not to wear underwear. Her own were soaked and if she put on Brianna’s there was a good chance she would get either pregnant or contract some exotic STD.
“He’s gonna want to fuck you,” Amanda told her sultry reflection. She left her hair down, and it framed her face nicely. “You’re trotting out no undies, big red ruby lips, slutty top, he is gonna want to fuck you so hard.”
Her pussy was sopping. It was for the best she wasn’t in panties. They’d be soaked. Well, if Justin could put together a compelling and logical argument for why he was a good guy, she would listen to it and maybe let him stick his dick somewhere interesting.
She walked out of the bedroom, to where Justin was watching a video.
October 32
marcus wants me to come to his church. i don’t really like religion but he says he can finger me during the service which is cool i guess. i like being fingered. i owe him one because i’ve been fucking a lot of guys lately that aren’t him.
getting kind of weird-smelling in here from all the cum and cooking and stuff and so much milk but i sort of like it.
so much milk.
Justin hit stop. Or tried to. Instead he hit pause, and the TV halted on an image of a bug-eyed Brianna, her cheeks distended from the effort of swallowing a big dick.
“Are you out of your mind?” Amanda said. She crossed over to the TV in an attempt to hide the video. A dick hovered behind her. “What the hell is wrong with you? I was going to—and you’re watching a porno of my sister!”
“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on,” Justin protested. He weakly stuffed his cock back into his pants. Amanda’s outfit wasn’t making that easy. A note of strawberries climbed into the complex scent of the room. “I found this underneath her bed.”
“So you were searching underneath her bed,” Amanda said. She crossed her arms. Her tits bounced.
“No I—well yes—I...gah.” Justin squeezed his eyes shut. Blood pounded in his head, down through his dick, then back through his head. It was hard to have an argument with something so hot. “I’m trying to figure out what happened to Brianna, okay? She left a journal, it says watch the video. I’m watching the video. The real question is, why is your sister getting fucked raw by this guy.”
He glared at Amanda. It used to be he didn’t try to match stares with Amanda during arguments. But this time it was easy to hold it until she looked, downcast, at the floor.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Amanda said, examining the carpet.
“I’m not. I think she’s into something weird. Here, watch this,” Justin hit play. Brianna resumed gasping and moaning.
“Justin, stop it! Please!” Amanda pleaded. Her eyes were drawn to the screen. It was easier to watch as Brianna’s ass was pointed at the camera, so it was just a really hot fuck. What did it even feel like to have a cock that wet up your snatch? “Please—come on. Lets just... I thought we should.. you know, talk.”
Justin snorted. He idly rubbed at his dick, not even fully aware of it. The outline bulged hard well down his pant leg. His jeans were wet from precum. “Talk. We barely say anything the entire drive here. Now you want to talk. No.”
Amanda’s knees felt weak. It was such a harsh, uncompromising no. She opened her mouth to argue with it and stopped. Justin had said no. That was it.
“We’re going to watch this whole thing through and see where the hell your sister is,” Justin told her.
She nodded, mute.
“Sit down,” Justin told her.
She did.
He hit play.
November
running super low on money what with all the clothes i’m buying and stuff. marcus took my old clothes that don’t fit good to somewhere and he gave me three dollars for them so that’s good. he said maybe he could get me a job but why didn’t i move in with him. i told him i was a reporter and was going to pull down his entire conspiracy thingie.
i got more vials but it’s just milk milk milk. milk in my titties. milk in my mouth. milk just everywhere.
measured my titties and wow.
“What... what time is it?” Amanda said. She stirred on the couch. Had she fallen asleep? But she had such a clear memory of watching fuck after fuck after fuck...
“What?” Justin said. He sat upright. He had been sunk deep into the couch. His mouth was dry. But that made no sense—there were three empty bottles of milk in front of them. “Umm. I don’t know. I’m not a clock, Amanda.”
Amanda giggled. Not a clock. She looked at the screen, where a girl was getting her mouth energetically fucked by some stud. The remote was nearby, so she turned it off. That was enough porno for the day. She licked her lips. Her mouth felt like an old dairy.
“We should.. " her mouth fell open, as she tried to reboot her brain. “Um.”
“We’re looking for your sister, dumbo,” Justin said. He tugged absently at his cock. It surged, thick and heavy underneath his pants. “She’s out somewhere probably getting boned.”
Amanda tittered again. Justin and his sense of humor. Thoughts moved slow in the placid pool of her mind. Right, it was Brianna they had been watching getting reamed. Where was she?
Justin watched her sit on the couch with growing irritation. First Amanda twirled a lock of hair around her finger, then chewed on the tip, then looked around with eyes so absent they were practically doll marbles. He was horny and big and there she was daydreaming. “So.. what’s the plan?” he finally said, not even bothering to sound civil.
“Oh! Ummm... I don’t know,” Amanda said. She tittered softly, and resumed looking around the room.
Was she high? He was only partly mollified that her skirt had ridden up, giving him a partial and darkened look at her pussy. It was inaccessible so whatever. “Look, lets go,” he said. “I’m bored and this has been a huge waste of time. We’ll find Brianna once the truck stop closes. She’ll wander back.”
“No!” Amanda said. She shook her head to clear it of jelly. What was wrong with her? “We need to find Brianna. This is.. something is super goofy weird. We can, I don’t know, we can watch more of the video.”
“I’m not sitting here and watching more porno. Somehow you haven’t noticed that I’ve had a boner for like, a billion hours,” Justin said. He gestured at his cock. It was about to tear his zipper to shreds. It felt so good to be direct, to ask for things.
Amanda tried to bring up conversation points about the details of them getting back together. The boundaries of it, how things would be different. But it was so hot that he just stood up and presented his erection. He was HOT for her! He wanted to FUCK her! Her body responded to it, getting more juiced and loose then it already was.
“I don’t..” she hedged, trying to maintain control. “You don’t have a condom, right? And there aren’t any here for SURE. I could... I could give you a handjob while we talk and stuff. I think that’s fair.”
Justin snorted. And snorted again. “Amanda, this is bullcrap. Lets go.”
“No! I can, here, look at my titties while we talk,” Amanda pleaded. She didn’t even know what she wanted any more. She popped her boobs out. It felt good to have them free. “There. See?”
But it obviously wasn’t going to be enough. He was a man, hot and hard, hard for her. It didn’t help that her mind was a swirling whirlwind of ex-boyfriend reluctance, concern for her whore sister, horniness, horniness, and submissiveness swirled in a cotton candy brain. “I can suck your dick, you love it when I suck your dick. Then we can talk about maybe getting back together.”
Justin paused. He had turned and walked away, his hand on the doorknob, which was also sticky on this side. His motivation was to find a hole and stick his cock into it. And it was hot to have his ex-girlfriend waddling towards him on both knees, her tits out, pointing at her mouth.
Both decided that a blowjob would help matters.
Thanksgivingish
lol marcus’ church is super weird. the pastor guy is cute though. marcus was right about getting handies in the aisles, they even hand out vibrators as you walk in. no blowjobs in the church though so i had to blow marcus out in the vestibu or whatever you call it. he thinks i’m getting so good at them it made me super proud.
marcus called my editor for me and told her to suck it lol.
“Getting a blowjob was a great idea,” Justin thought.
Amanda had always been good at hummers, but this was, he thought, some truly next level shit. While part of him wanted to unload a gallon of jizz down her throat immediately, it was too good not to enjoy.
Not only had Amanda immediately swallowed his cock to the base, she had licked the underside like it was pecan ice cream. And even though he was already drizzling her throat with precum, all she did was grunt and moan around a big mouthful of dick. It was amazing. Not that he intended to, but Justin wasn’t sure if he could pull Amanda off his cock so he could cum elsewhere but her mouth.
Feeling generous, he warned her anyway. “I’m going to cum soon, baby,” he told her, and stroked her hair. “Could be a gusher. Fair warning.”
She redoubled her efforts.
“This was a great idea,” Amanda thought. She needed time, and a blowjob gave her that. Time to sort through all the fogginess in her own head, the nagging feeling she was missing something, the complex emotions generated by her blowing her ex. Or current boyfriend. Well, the whole point of the hummer was to figure out if she should date him or not.
The blowjob itself was unexpectedly fun. Who knew or cared why, but Justin’s cum was like vanilla ice cream with the little specks of vanilla bean. And her mouth felt so wonderfully, comfortably FULL of pulsating man. It was also nice when he patted her head and told her what a good cocksucker she was. It was true! If he had called her a gifted cocksucker more often they might still be dating.
Unless they were dating.
She nearly creamed when he gave her decent warning that he was about to unload. Amanda didn’t even consider pulling off. Even when he did start to go, and it was like drinking a gallon of cream, pouring down her throat in ropy spurts. So much boy juice that it was all she could do to swallow it down, and even after her best effort, some rich-smelling spunk streamed from her lips.
Amanda figured she would lap it up later.
A day.
the pastor guy wants to meet with me and marcus. i’m supposed to dress up because he is mr. importante. i’m wearing a dress that is really cute, it flares out an is so short that when i bend over my pussy is out there. oh the hair fell out down there btw, probably it got too wet. i’m supposed to wear underwear but i’m not sure i’ll remember, i’ve been such a dummy lately.
“So are we getting back together?” Amanda said, lazing on the couch. She licked at her fingers. They still had a little cum on them. Her tits still fell free.
“I’ll think about it,” Justin said. He sat upright, with Amanda’s legs across his lap. He gave a tit a possessive squeeze.
Amanda giggled. “Seriously? I just gave you the greatest head ever.”
“And I said I’d think about it,” Justin said, sternly. He had taken his shirt off at some point. Amanda practically drooled. There was a ton of beef under there, and a dark fuzz of chest hair on a well-defined set of chest muscles. He had been hitting the gym. “One blowjob for one trip to find your sister seems like just fair reward, as far as I’m concerned. And I cooked. I should at least get to fuck you on the carpet for that.”
Amanda giggled again. He was just so smart. “Do you have a condom? If so...”
“Oh, seriously?” Justin said.
“I mean I’m on the pill.. sort of. I haven’t been great about it.”
“I’d just pull off and splash on your tits, baby,” Justin said, earnestly.
“Uh... you put like a jug in me already,” Amanda said. She rubbed at her stomach. “Since when do you cum like that? It tasted sooo good.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes while Justin groped her tits.
“What’s that?” Amanda said, pointing at the discarded DVD on the coffee table. Somehow a skein of cum had landed full across the disk, which is what had initially drawn her attention.
“Oh, that was in the DVD player,” Justin moved his hand down to between Amanda’s thighs. He was delighted to find her smooth, and accommodating when he sneaked a finger in there. She was greasy-wet.
Thoughts moved molasses-slow in Amanda’s head. Especially with Justin starting to finger her. She only gradually managed. “Justin. Do you think.. maybe THAT is the DVD Brianna was talking about?” She closed her eyes after the intellectual effort. Way too many logical connections had been made.
“Yeah, I guess, maybe?” Justin said. He reluctantly pulled his hand free. Amanda immediately regretted speaking up. “I guess lets see.”
December 1
I’ve cum a dozen times and drank probably four gallons of out-of-town bottled water and I’m feeling more coherent. Marcus thinks I have the flu.
Met with the pastor. And I’d probably still be a brainless cow if it wasn’t for two things. One, the vials on the shelving behind his desk, and, two, the mirror showing my own reflection. With my naked pussy visible between my legs. I couldn’t even remember to wear panties.
So I’m all the research anyone needs. A reporter turned into a milky moo-er by chemicals and cum. I’m going to make a video for the media explaining everything. Then call Amanda and get out of here. While I still can.
God I’m so fucking horny.
When it was done they both sat up straight, not looking at each other, aware of so many things that made no sense. Amanda looked down at her body and saw a stranger, with amazing boobs and pencil-thick nipples, smooth as cream skin, and thighs that still gaped open no matter what she did. The taste of her ex-boyfriend’s cum on her tonsils, the spunk all over her face and coating her hair.
And suddenly the scent was back, noticeable, that primal and hot and overpowering stench. It was recognizable now. They were generating it themselves. It was sex. Fuck after fuck after fuck, the sticky residue of jism and lubricant in layers. They were soaked in it.
“We’ve got to go, now,” Justin said. He stared for the first time at a cock he didn’t recognize, a veiny and long member that was way bigger then the pink thing he had walked in with. This was like—like a horse cock, really. When he stood up he could feel the weight between his legs. “Lets go. C’mon. We’re leaving.”
They stumbled out the door. It was morning—but that couldn’t be right, they had been there for hours. The couple moved self-consciously in pornified bodies, thicker and sluttier. Still very much turned on, holding onto Brianna’s warning in slower brains.
“Open the hatch,” Amanda asked. “I’m.. god I’m thirsty. I need water. Let me get a few water bottles.”
“Fine,” Justin said, looking around. The parking lot was near deserted. Any minute now he expected a throng of sluts to pile in, demanding a go at his dick. His body viciously reminded him that in a long day of potent aphrodisiacs he still hadn’t managed to fuck anything.
Amanda was bent over the trunk of the car, sorting through water bottles.
“Amanda...” Justin mumbled. God, it was the perfect ass. Thick but rounded, bubbling underneath a short skirt that barely hid her slit.
“What?” Amanda said.
“You’ve got such a hot ass,” Justin told her.
Amanda felt two strong hands clamp on her rear.
“I’ve really always wanted to fuck it,” he said.
She strained to look back. Justin obviously had his cock out. Her body betrayed her, rising up on heels to give him a better angle.
“Justin! Stop it! We’ve got to get out of here!” she hissed. Something warm and wonderful pressed at her pussy. “Don’t! You’ll... you’ll knock me up!”
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Justin pushed. There was no resistance. Inch after inch of cock slid into her from behind. It seemed to take a very long time. By the time his balls tickled her ass Amanda was already starting to spasm.
“Okay... Justin... pull out... very carefully... while.. I remember.. english...” Amanda breathed. Justin complied, and the withdrawal made Amanda mew with pleasure.
When it was just the cockhead nestled inside, he pushed back in, hard.
“Sorry, baby,” Justin said. He picked up steam. “I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to.” He paused. “If it makes you feel better, you’re definitely my girlfriend again.”
It did make her feel better. So much so that the next thrust sent her over the edge, screaming into the open air with her first orgasm. Her titties squished into the trunk carpeting, her feet dangled a few inches from the ground. Justin’s hands had never left her butt. She tried to say something but found turning intentions into english just way too much intellectual effort. Instead she moaned and tittered and giggled as he thrust into her, pussy dribbling fluid down her legs.
She tried again to say something when he sped up. It didn’t happen. He flooded her with spunk, pushed deep in while he came. When he finally pulled out a dollop of sperm fell out with him. Justin held her skirt in his hand. He had torn it apart at some point. He casually discarded it. His prong continued to drip.
“Okay, now we can go,” he told her.
They did try to drive away. It didn’t go well. Directions were hard and Justin’s difficulty listening to girls made it harder. Plus they stopped twice to fuck.
When they somehow ended up back at the apartment they didn’t even question it. Just walked upstairs in tattered shreds of clothes and fucked on the broken bed.
December 2
Need to detox—came so very close and hard and often. Then gotta get the disk out. Do I have Amanda’s address?
Brianna pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes. She opened the doorknob very carefully with a piece of newspaper, and tossed it away so that none of the sticky stuff could touch her.
She had spent a week essentially in the woods. Driven to a remote spot while her willpower held and then slashed her tires. Then bathed clean in a mountain stream. Ate the few power bars and bottled waters left from before she had come to Calving.
It had been a hard, hard week. Detoxing at the same time that she had to learn bimbo wilderness survival. But the urge to fuck was... reduced. Her boobs were a bit less engorged. And her head felt clearer. Not smart, but clearer.
Hopefully Amanda had gotten the message. The plan was to dart in and out of her sex-soaked, transformative apartment with her notebooks and evidence. Then wait in the bush until her sister showed up.
She took a deep breath, held it, and walked in.
It came out in a woosh when she made it to the bedroom.
A big-titted bimbo vaguely recognizable as Amanda was there, two whopping tits propping her on the busted bed. She was wholly naked. She had been caked in cum, and it practically crackled on her face.
Fucking her leisurely from behind was some muscle-bound dolt, his biceps rippling, an enhanced penis sliding in and out of a well-oiled cunt.
The couple stared at Brianna for a minute. Finally some remaining brain cells clicked together. “Brianna!” Amanda said, cheerfully. “You’re finally here! Have you met my boyfriend?”
The big hunk put out his hand and smiled at her. His cock was wet.
Brianna’s mouth started to water.
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