Honeypot
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The Honeypot Ch. 02 free porn video
The muted chirp of Senator O'Neal's cellphone brought her up from the
depths of a bright and sunny dream. She clutched at the dream as she
woke; rarely were they as happy and simple as the one she was waking
from. Usually, she dreamed of huge, dark figures moving slowly across a
shattered landscape. She was nearly always being chased by something in
those dreams while, around her, people screamed in pain and terror.
And, so, she desperately grabbed for the wispy strands of her fading
dream while her phone continued to ring.
She sighed when her phone stopped mid-ring. Gray light filtered through
the translucent hotel curtains and she knew she'd have to wake up soon.
Instead, she pressed her face deeper into the thick, uncomfortable
pillows. Weren't there puppies, she wondered. In the dream, I think-
"Senator," came a quiet, respectful voice from the hallway outside her
room. After a pause, the figure knocked. "Senator, are you awake?"
Senator O'Neal groaned. Unable to put off her duties any longer, she
sat up, her brown hair falling to her shoulders. She yawned, stretching
to work out the kinks in her back and shoulders. She stood, naked but
for her black panties, and then shivered in the cool morning air. Her
left nipple tightened in protest against the sudden lack of warmth.
Grabbing her green silk robe, she pulled it on, tying it tightly around
her slim waist.
"Senator," the voice called again. "You wanted me to make sure you were
awake on time."
"It's okay, Paul," Senator O'Neal answered. "I'm up." She shuffled
along the thick carpeting, relishing the way it tickled at her feet.
Unlatching the security lock, she opened the door to let her assistant
inside. Paul Cox stood impeccably dressed in a suit and tie with his
black hair slicked back. "I'll start getting ready if you'll pack my
things. My notes are next to the laptop."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll have a limo arriving in roughly an hour but I can
delay if you need extra time."
"No," she told him. "It's fine. But, the Town Car, not the limo,
please. I've done as much prep work as I can and it's just a simple
media event, not a hearing. I'm sure I can handle whatever curveballs
come my way from whomever Senator Bowman has planted in the crowd."
"I know you can, ma'am. I'll have everything ready. There's a
Starbucks downstairs as well. Sixteen ounce vanilla Frappuccino?"
"Oh, yes. That's absolutely required. Thanks again, Paul."
Senator O'Neal turned away, padding over to the large bathroom. Her
silk robe slid along her body as her hips worked. She surprised herself
by finding the light touch of the cool fabric to be nearly sensual.
Nearly as light and erotic as April's touch. She sighed mentally. It'd
been almost a month since she'd seen her lover and their encounters had
become increasing secretive as the media decided more and more to try to
make her orientation their business. And, thus, the business of the
rest of the world. She grit her teeth in frustration. Never mind that
almost every week, another state legalized same sex marriage. Never
mind that they lived in the 21st century. All that mattered was the
supposed sensationalism of the story.
And so, Paul, she told herself with yet another sigh. Senator O'Neal
stood in front of the tri-fold mirror of her bathroom. Untying her
belt, she shrugged her shoulders to let her robe slip to the ground.
She could hear Paul moving around beyond the closed bathroom door. She
counted herself lucky to have him as he seemed honest and genuinely nice
- a rare commodity in her line of work. A little less than six months
ago, she'd been forced to hire him as her assistant in order to allay
more rumors of her sexuality. Of course, people still knew she was gay
but quite a few were superficial enough that simply having a male
assistant mollified them.
Turning left and right slightly, she looked herself over. Slim, skin
still smooth and pale from long days spent indoors. Senator O'Neal ran
her hands lightly down her sides and along her narrow hips. She noted a
few stray hairs she'd need to trim. Her left nipple was still oddly
erect. She poked at it with a cocked eyebrow. April loved her little
pink nipples. She looked back at herself in the mirror and, in her
mind's eye, her lover appeared behind her. Warm and soft. She could
almost feel April's breasts pressing against her back. Her lover was
just under six feet tall, nearly half a foot taller than the senator.
She'd feel her lover's bush against the gentle curve of her ass as long,
smooth arms wrapped lovingly around her, just around her pert, small
breasts.
Senator O'Neal groaned quietly as she pictured her lover. She grew wet
as she leaned against the bathroom sink, spreading her legs slightly.
Her nipples ached, pulsing in time to her heartbeat. April's large
hands would slide down her naked back and along her hips, holding her
tightly. Senator O'Neal moaned. She worked her hips in small
movements, rocking them back and forth against her imaginary lover.
'Mouth or fingers,' April asked in her daydream. Her ghostly lover's
fingertips ran along Senator O'Neal's spine and the women shivered at
her touch. She could feel her wet lips rubbing slightly together and
she spread her legs further apart while arching her back.
"No," Senator O'Neal whispered with her eyes closed. She felt a heat,
deep within herself. It burned from her chest to her stomach to her
pussy. She was nearly feverish with it and swore her lips were swollen.
Her lover's mouth would feel amazing but only on the surface and she
ached so badly deep inside. Fingers.... they could never reach far
enough. She needed to be filled. She had to be opened wide, to have
every inch inside of her wetness touched. The senator whimpered. She
ached so badly. She was so empty. "The... no. I need more. I
don't... god... I..."
Her soaking wet pussy lips separated slightly. Senator O'Neal could
barely breathe as the fire raged through her body, burning out rational
thought. Her hand reached between her legs of their own accord and the
woman's knees trembled as all five of her fingers touched her swollen
mound. She held her fingers together, turning her wrist to reach as
well as she could.
Senator O'Neal's fingers slid easily between her engorged lips. She'd
never been so wet in her entire life. She buried her fingers past her
second knuckle. Her hips dropped from the sudden sensation and she
almost collapsed to her knees. Beads of sweat broke out along her brow
and she gasped for air, her voice making small squeaking noises.
It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. She couldn't do more with her
fingers from her awkward angle. Senator O'Neal whimpered again. Her
mind struggled against the heat. She needed to be fucked. She needed
to be filled. Her whole body ached until she could feel it in her
teeth.
As she frantically tried to fuck herself with her fingers, small bones
popped in her hips. Senator O'Neal kneeled on the ground in front of
the sink and then rolled to her side, gasping for air with her legs
spread and her hand frantically pumping between her legs. Bones cracked
around her tailbone, fragmenting, and she couldn't feel a thing. Her
ears roared, burning to their tips and her mouth worked soundlessly.
Muscle and fat tissue pushed gently at her waist.
Rolling to her chest and knees, Senator O'Neal arched her back again,
raising her ass as she tried desperately to find a position that would
allow her to push deeper. Above her fingers, skin bulged slightly. Her
nearly non-existent ass expanded. The senator rocked her new hips hard
while she fucked herself, face to the cold ground. Her taut, petite ass
was gone. Now, her ass cheeks slapped together wetly while she
frantically worked her fingers.
Senator O'Neal's nipples brushed over and over against the ground. Her
nipples, small and pink, thickened, doubling in size. Slowly the
nipples pushed closer to the ground as her breasts filled. Her small b-
cup breasts grew to c-cup and the nipples dragged along the cool tile,
back and forth, driving the young woman even more wild. Her breasts
bulged further, adding a cup size until the skin and nipples flattened
against the ground.
Her orgasm eluded her. Her fingers weren't enough. Not nearly enough.
She ached so deep inside that she didn't think she could reach it even
if she were able to fist herself. Her mind was savage, lowered. It had
one need. The senator pushed herself back up to her knees. Her right
hand was completely covered in her thick cum and she absently sucked at
her fingers. She sat back on her heels with her larger, softer ass.
Her nipples were low and painfully erect on her firm breasts. Senator
O'Neal's eyes searched the bathroom. Nothing looked right. The
bathroom soap bottles were far too small. The head of the hotel hair
dryer was too short. Nothing had knobs and nothing was long or thick
enough or....
Paul, she thought. Her mind was wild. Chaotic. All rationality was
gone, scrambled by the heat she felt. He could. He could fuck me. Oh
fuck. He's got a cock and he could press it deep into my web pussy
until I felt the end of it against my body. God. Hot and hard and
thick. He has to. He has to do it.
She reached eagerly for the door but her hand stopped an inch away. She
frowned at it, lips turning into a pout as she tried to understand why
she stopped. She stared at her hand. The light reflected slightly off
of the clear cum coating her hand. The bathroom, as large as it was,
smelled strongly of sex and she could feel how slick her thighs were
from it.
Her body ached for an orgasm. It demanded to be fucked senseless and
she was panting from the need. She knew that all she had to do was open
the door and Paul would be there. She knew it, even through the fuzz in
her brain.
But, she couldn't. Her hand wouldn't move. Slowly, ever so slowly, the
ache melted away, focusing into a ball in her stomach. As she sat, her
thighs thickened. Her smooth skin tightened as her legs swelled to
match her larger ass and hips. The effect was subtle enough that she
didn't notice.
"What," she gasped. "What am I doing? I almost..." Senator O'Neal
came back to herself as a thin line of blood dripped from her nose. She
felt drugged and slow, as if recovering from a night of heavy drinking.
The young woman pressed her hands to her stomach but the ache wouldn't
go away. It hurt but it also made her want to wriggle her hips a
little. The feeling was not unlike someone biting on her nipple,
painful and pleasurable all at once. The senator struggled to her feet,
swaying under a new weight and center of balance that hadn't existed
minutes away. Her larger breasts lay flat against her chest and she
massaged them gently. They were sore to the touch and the massage felt
good. Too good. When she felt the ache starting to expand again, she
dropped her hands and shivered.
Senator O'Neal started her shower, feeling the water until it ran hot
enough for her tastes. She breathed in the steam and sighed as it
helped to clear her mind. Blood fell unnoticed from her nose in small
drops, quickly vanishing under the hot steam. The young woman stepped
in carefully, bowing her head under the hot water. The last few minutes
were unclear in her mind, slipping away as if they were a fading dream.
"That was terrifying," she told herself. Her hands worked soap along
her body, slipping along her hips and along her ass. Something tugged
at her thoughts but vanished when she tried to focus on it. The water
and soap felt wonderful along her body. She cleaned carefully along her
still swollen pussy lips, ignoring the ache that threatened to escape
from her stomach.
She knew she was stronger than the urge to touch herself. That whatever
happened was just her missing April and the stress from... from... from
what? What was she doing? The... thing. There was a thing. A
meeting? With a group of people. They... what? Her fingers explored
her sex carefully, fingertips along the edge, lightly tracing just on
the inside. A single finger dipped between her slick lips. Muscles
along the length of her vagina tightened. A second finger joined the
first and her pussy gripped both fingers greedily. The people...
they... people...
Senator O'Neal froze. No. No, this isn't right.
A polite knock made her squeak, a sudden rush of fear pushing away her
need to cum. "Senator O'Neal? We have thirty minutes until we need to
leave. I've laid some clothes out on the bed and I'll be waiting
outside."
"O... okay!" the senator answered. Pieces of it came back to her. She
was supposed to meet with people to talk about something that happened.
She'd spent the night before writing down notes and things to talk
about. It was important. It was... right. Senator Bowman. And the
money he'd accepted for turning a blind eye. More details followed the
others until she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. The ache
retreated once more and the senator hurried through the rest of her
shower.
After her shower, she ran on autopilot, toweling off, drying her short
brown hair and then she stopped. She couldn't find her makeup kit.
While the bathroom was large, there weren't many places her kit could've
gone and, with a quick look, she couldn't find it anywhere. The young
woman stamped her foot, pouting. How in the world can I go out without
makeup?
Another line of blood fell from Senator O'Neal's nose, tickling slightly
as it trailed down to her lips. She absently wiped at it with the back
of her hand.
"Senator Bowman," the young woman said in near sing-song. "Bow. Man.
Sen. A. Tor." She leaned forward to examine her face. A few small
wrinkles at the corner of her eyes and mouth made her frown. She pushed
her thin lips out, plucking at them with her fingers. She'd never
noticed how severe her lips made her look. "Senator Bowman and the
Ethics Committee," she sang, to the tune of 'Baby Beluga'. "Spend so
hard and... and...take money." The young woman giggled at her own joke
while she touched various parts of her face.
With a heavy sigh, Senator O'Neal opened the bathroom door to step out
into the main hotel room. It was warmer now as she walked around the
room. The only things left behind were her purse, her packed suitcase
and a dark outfit laid out on the bed. She pursed her lips at it. A
long, dark skirt with a white button-down shirt and gray jacket.
Sensible black pumps faced way from the foot of the bed.
"Boring," she said to the empty room. Stepping over to her suitcase,
the young woman stared at it, contemplating whether she should find
other, brighter clothes to wear. She frowned. Her clothes were tightly
packed and the thought of re-packing the suitcase seemed far too
difficult. Instead, she grabbed a pair of black panties and simple
white bra from the suitcase's large zippered pocket.
Humming a mindless tune, the young woman stepped into her panties and
pulled up, working her wider hips back and forth. The silky material
slid past her smooth, larger thighs, pulling tightly between her legs.
Senator O'Neal hooked her fingers under the edge of her panties to
spread them out, covering the exposed, rounded cheeks of her ass. She
twisted her hips left and right, admiring how the fabric clung to her
larger frame. It seemed... right somehow.
The bra wouldn't fit. The young woman struggled with it, pulling and
twisting and grunting until finally giving up. She tentatively held the
bra against her breasts and looked at herself in the mirror. The
wireframe of the small bra centered and covered her enlarged areola and
nipples and some of the surrounding skin but that was all. Her heavier,
rounded breasts made the bra look like something a stripper would wear
to barely cover her nipples while still showing everything off.
"What the hell?" Senator O'Neal whispered. She dropped her bra and
then cupped her breasts, feeling their weight. Still looking in the
mirror, she suddenly realized how different she looked. Her midsection
gently curved away into hips that, turning to the side, flared into an
ass that belonged on a larger woman. A larger woman that spent her days
on the stair climber at the gym. Her thighs and lower legs matched her
hips and ass, subtly thicker. "Oh god, what the he-"
Senator O'Neal cried out, falling to her knees. Blood dripped to the
carpet, falling freely from her nose. She trembled, leaning heavily on
her hands. Sweat broke out along her hairline and a wave of nausea
rippled from the top of her head to her stomach. The young woman
swallowed twice, fighting back the sudden, hard urge to vomit. Pressing
the back of her hand to her mouth, she closed her eyes. Her thin lips
filled out against her hand. Skin swelled slowly as the skin stretched
into full, pouty lips. Senator O'Neal shuddered and then stood on shaky
legs.
"Eww," she said, staring at the blood on the back of her hand. The
young woman walked to the bathroom and her hips swayed in hypnotic
motions as if she'd been born to them. She cleaned herself off quickly
and returned to her clothes. The young woman quickly picked up her
skirt to struggle into it.
A quiet knock came from the front door. "Five minutes, ma'am," Paul
said.
"Oooookaaaay," Senator O'Neal sang out. The fabric of her skirt
strained slightly against her hips and she found she couldn't pull the
zipper the entire way. She pulled as far as she could and then left it.
Her shirt was easier. Senator O'Neal had no interest in wearing tight
clothing in order to give the media any more ammunition or to flaunt her
sexuality. And, so, she was able to button the shirt without trouble.
Her new fat nipples tented the fabric and she bit her full lips at the
feeling of the shirt rasping against her body. Gaps showed through the
shirt around the buttons and did nothing to hide her larger chest.
Finally, Senator O'Neal pulled her dark jacket on. She twirled and then
giggled. Looking at herself in the mirror, she struck a pose, fingers
pointed out into the shape of a pistol. "Samantha O'Neal! FBI!" She
told her reflection. Her breasts swayed alarmingly as she turned.
Biting back her giggles, the young woman zipped up her suitcase and
grabbed her purse.
"Time for serious business," she said, walking to the door with her
wheeled suitcase.
A small pool of blood, flecked with pink surrounded her old, small bra
as she closed the hotel door behind her.
-----
Robert woke and groaned. His head spun and the light through his
windows stabbed daggers into his eyes. His tongue and the rest of his
head felt as if they'd been wrapped in thick bandages. He stared at his
bathroom through watery eyes while trying to mentally will the bottle of
aspirin from the medicine cabinet onto his nightstand.
Although the day wasn't as hot as it promised to be later, he'd somehow
sweated through his clothes. With a sigh and his eyes closed against
the impending crushing headache, the man rolled and sat up. Sharp pains
lanced through his templates and he ground his teeth against the
feeling. His first thought was to eat the entire bottle of aspirin
while his second was to shower. The damp clothes clung to him and he
felt particularly sensitive to the way they touched his skin. His
nipples were sore, as if he'd gone for a jog and his sweat-soaked
running shirt had rubbed his nipples raw.
The ache in his head migrated to his jaw and he stood, ignoring the
pain. Robert clicked on the TV as he made his way to his bathroom,
staring at the world through half-closed eyes. He quickly shook a
handful of pills into one hand and then bent down to take a mouthful of
water from the bathroom sink. Titling his head back, he dropped the
pills into his mouth and swallowed. Leaning forward on the counter, he
waited for the pain to subside, totally oblivious that he'd swallowed
six large pills and a mouthful of water without choking.
Slowly, the pain retreated from his jaws and he shivered. In a trance,
the young man stripped out of his clothes, dropping them to the bathroom
floor. His shirt fell away and then he struggled out of his undershirt
before letting that drop as well. His belt seemed to be missing so he
undid his pants and stood in his socks and underwear.
It wasn't his underwear. Somehow, in the half-darkness of the night
before, he'd grabbed the lady's (what was her name? he asked himself)
panties and put them on. Worse, he hadn't even noticed when he'd done
it even though they fit him oddly. His testicles overflowed and his
cock, somehow still hard from morning wood, was clearly exposed.
"Jesus, Robert," he said. His voice was gravely, as if he hadn't spoken
in years. "Maybe it's time to lay off the drink for a while." He
reached for the panties and then stopped. The dark red of the fabric
seemed to absorb the bathroom's lights. He was surprised at how soft
they were, as if they were barely there. A dot of pre-cum shined at the
tip of his cock.
Robert gently stepped out of the panties, shivering as they slid against
his hairy legs. His cock throbbed in response to the sensations and the
ache from his chest faded from pain to small spikes of pleasure.
Holding the panties in his right hand, he placed them against his cock,
sliding the small red underwear against his length, over and over.
Robert moaned, leaning against the cold tile of his bathroom sink. With
his eyes closed, the young man didn't notice as his nipples hardened.
No longer tiny but still smaller than his pinky finger, they throbbed in
time to his heartbeat. Nerves lit up from his nipples straight to his
belly and he gasped.
His orgasm was sudden and hard and made him cry out. Thick white cum
spurted out, covering the opposite wall and floor as his cock pulsed
twice and then a third time. Robert collapsed to his toilet's lid,
panting. His cock ached, still hard but overly sensitive to touch. The
smell of his cum filled the bathroom and he breathed in the scent
deeply. Robert's lips parted and his tongue darted out to wet them. On
an impulse, he brought the panties to his face and breathed in its
scent. Some of his cum had caught onto them and became smudged above
his lips. The woman's scent was gone; replaced by his own and the smell
of his sex was overpowering.
With a sigh, Robert pulled the panties away and his tongue darted out
again, greedily licking away the thick, creamy cum above his lips. The
taste was vaguely salty with a strange bit of sweetness to it and he
barely noticed as his tongue ran along his teeth and against the roof of
his mouth. His cock throbbed painfully in response.
In the other room, the television played to a quiet room.
"In five minutes we'll be covering the news conference, live as Senator
O'Neal begins her briefing on the hearing. We hope..."
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