The Honeypot Ch. 03 free porn video

Senator O'Neal stepped lightly into the hallway, her luggage bumping along behind her. Paul stood to the side of the door. His hands were loose against his sides and his eyes roamed ceaselessly along the hallway. The young woman looked up at him and smiled. "I'm ready!" she chirped and then turned to her right as Paul turned the opposite direction. "Senator, the elevators are this way," he told her. "I knew that," she answered. A pretty red blush crept up the senator's cheeks. Her smile deepened and the faint hints of dimples appeared. Turning, she walked toward her aide and continued down the hallway while he followed behind her. The young woman's hips swayed in time to her steps as her firm, larger ass worked beneath the skirt. Doors clicked open along the well-lit corridor. People and families in randomly filed out around her as she made her way to the elevator. Several men glanced at her as she passed, their eyes flicking down to her chest and ass. Catching one glance, she added a small twist to her step, smiling mischievously when the man's eyes widened. Finally, the senator stopped in front of the elevator. A young blond woman in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt waited with them, casting occasional glances back at the senator while the elevator made its way up. "Oh, hey!" the young lady said, turning to face Senator O'Neal. Recognition dawned on her face. "You're that one senator. They're talking about you on the news this morning. I really hope-" The lady had stepped up to the senator, her hand reaching for the senator. Paul's arm shot out, blocking the other woman. He gripped the lady's hand and twisted, causing her to cry out in pain. "Paul!" Senator O'Neal exclaimed. "You let her go right this instant!" The man released the young lady's hand and stepped back. "I'm sorry, miss. Training," he told her. "There've been some attempts against Senator O'Neal." "Oh, there hasn't, Paul. Don't lie to her. I'm sorry, are you okay?" Senator O'Neal reached out to help the other woman stand. The blond lady grimaced, massaging her right hand while staring angrily at Paul. "I'm fine. That hurt, creep," she told the large man. Paul grunted in non-reply. "I just wanted to say good luck. And I think it's rad that you're... you know." Senator O'Neal cocked her head. "Know what?" "You know. Gay," the young lady said. She glared up at Paul, daring him to say or do something. "Oh. Oh!" Senator O'Neal said. "No. I mean, yes? I like both but-" "Senator," Paul warned. "I really don't think this is an appropriate conversation to have right now." Senator O'Neal's eyes flicked over to Paul and then back to the young woman. In a loud stage whisper, she continued her conversation with the young woman. "He doesn't think anything is appropriate. I don't think I've ever even seen him smile before." She giggled at herself while the other woman smiled in mild confusion. The elevator dinged and Paul gently pulled Senator O'Neal into the small car with him. He stared at the blond lady as he pressed the 'door close' button and the young woman made no attempt to enter. When the elevator door opened to the lobby, Senator O'Neal's eyes lit up. Even as early as it was, the large open area was bustling with activity. The dull roar of conversations were swallowed by the susurrations of the artificial waterfall in the center of the building. "Paul," the senator whispered urgently. "Paul. Do you think they have goldfish in the water? The big pretty ones? Paul." Tugging at his arm, she tried to pull the man towards the small raised pond surrounding the bottom of the waterfall. "Paul, this is super important. Do you have any quarters?" "Senator," Paul said. His large hand closed around hers, gently. "The car is-" The man finally looked at his boss. His lips pursed as his eyebrows knit together. He looked from her face to her hips and then back up. "Did you... did you do something different with your clothes today?" The senator pouted up at Paul. "Well, I'm not wearing a bra. Paul. Quarters. Please? Pretty please? For the fountain? Oh no. You don't think the fish eat the money, do you?" "Senator, I'm sorry. Did you just say you aren't wearing a bra?" With a slight flounce and an exasperated sigh, Senator O'Neal opened her gray jacket. The thin fabric of her white shirt did nothing to hide the way her large nipples pressed against the shirt. "Oh my-" Paul reached for her jacket as he glanced around the room. He held the jacket closed and then struggled with the top button. "Senator," he hissed, his eyes roaming the room. "You have to... why is this damn jacket not buttoning closed?" Warm, delicate fingers wrapped around Paul's wrists. "Paul," Senator O'Neal purred. Her jacket fell open again. Her nipples had grown erect under Paul's attention. She guided the large man's hand towards one of her nipples and the man hissed, snatching his hands away. She looked up at him and her plump lips were pouting. "We could go back to my room, Paul. The bed is really nice. Or the floor. Or anywhere, really." Paul swallowed and looked away. "Senator," he said. Swallowing, he continued. "I think we should call off the hearing. Something's not right. You're not acting right. You're- stop that!" The large man slapped Senator O'Neal's hands away from his chest. Senator O'Neal smiled lazily up at Paul. Her eyes were half-closed and she reached for her jacket to shrug it off. The small ball of warmth deep within her belly was expanding throughout her core. She licked her lips and arched her back. The young woman's shirt strained against the movement. Paul glanced down and then immediately back up. "The... the hearing... Senator, the hearing," he said, his voice rasping. Hearing. Hearing. Hearing. The word echoed through her brain until something caught hold of it. Senator O'Neal blinked several times. "Oh my god, Paul. The hearing. Where's the car? We're going to be late." The young woman turned into a circle until she found the exit. Her heavy breasts bounced as she stalked to the doors. A small bead of sweat rolled down Paul's temple. Now that he'd noticed her, he couldn't not notice the way she was walking. The way her hips moved. A small, primitive part of his brain wanted to throw her over his shoulder... or over the nearest chair. He cursed his erection and followed after her. The ride was quiet as Paul collected his thoughts. He watched Senator O'Neal's reflection in the tinted windows. Her mouth was set in a determined line, only partially spoiled by her full lips. The man fought down imagery of her wrapping those lips around his cock. He forced himself to look away from her. What in the world is wrong with me, he wondered. I've never been this horny in my life and she's my goddamned boss! When the hell did she start looking like that? How did she hide that figure? Jesus H. Christ. Glancing back at the senator, he caught her breathing on the window and drawing in the moisture with her finger. She was doodling little hearts on the glass. Her determined expression had melted away into something resembling childlike joy. He swallowed as his eyes strayed down to her shirt. He could clearly see the side of her left breast through the gaps around the buttons. They looked firm and smooth and- Jesus! He cursed at himself, mentally. The car pulled into a small parking garage, tires squeaking on smooth pavement as it turned around and around into the designated area. Paul was thankful they wouldn't have to deal with any crowds outside. He hated working crowds. The man's hand reached for a pistol that wasn't there. An old nervous habit. "We're here, senator," he told her. "Yay!" Senator O'Neal exclaimed. The young woman quickly unbuckled herself and exited the car. The two made their way to the private elevator. Paul kept his eyes away from his boss but he caught himself breathing deeply in the small car. She smelled like... nothing. No perfume or heavy scents or anything. But something registered to his nose. Some subtle scent that made him hungry. Hungry for her. "I brought your note cards," he told her, handing her the cards. "Just in case. I know you've been working on this for a while but it helps sometimes to have them nearby." "Thanks, Paul!" Senator O'Neal beamed. Fuck, Paul thought. Sitting for makeup was a nightmare. "I look gross!" Senator O'Neal cried. Her fingers lightly touched the thick makeup covering her face. "I don't even look real." The woman sitting next to the senator glanced up at Paul. "She... she doesn't normally go for makeup before one of these. And she's had a weird morning," he explained. "Ma'am," the lady said. "The makeup has to be like this for the lights. I've been doing this for years. Trust me, you'll look just fine on TV." "Oh! I'm going to be on TV?" the senator's eyes widened and she turned around. "Paul, really? Am I really going to be on TV?" "Yes?" Paul answered, his voice making it sound like a question. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh," Senator O'Neal gushed. She kicked her feet, squealing in happiness. "Should I maybe..." The senator reached down to the top button of her underneath the large collar the makeup artist had put around her shoulders. "No!" Both Paul and the other woman said at the same time. "Oh, okay." The senator looked at the woman next to her. "Are you really sure I'll look okay? I look like a corpse." "I promise, ma'am." "Yay! Thank you!" Senator O'Neal leaned over to give the woman a hug. Paul checked his watch. "It's time, senator." "Ooooookaaaay," the senator sang out. She stood and removed the collar before turning for the door. "Hey," the makeup artist said, looking after the senator before turning to Paul. "Good luck?" "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, thanks." Senator O'Neal nearly skipped along the small hall that lead to the conference area. Muted laughter and conversations came from the double doors in front of them and, as Paul opened the doors, the sound assaulted both of them. Rows of chairs were filled with reporters. Some with notepads and audio recording devices and some with small cameras. A large stage faced the reporters and an array of studio cameras bearing various major cable companies pointed at the table in the center of the stage. Bright lights loomed behind the cameras, casting a harsh white light on the stage. The table was lined with microphones. Everyone stopped and turned to look at the newcomers. Paul bumped into Senator O'Neal. She had frozen, eyes wide at the sudden huge amount of attention. Paul felt her trying to back into him but his arm held her in place. "Paul," she whispered, her voice fierce and low. "There's so many people. Oh my gosh, Paul. There's too many people. I can't do this. I can't." "Senator," Paul answered. His voice was low and his lips barely moved. "You called for this hearing. You've done a ton of these before. You'll be fine. Just walk with me to the stage. Focus on the cameras when you get there and you'll be fine." He shifted himself to avoid touching her soft, large ass with his cock as she pressed back against him. As gentle as possible, he guided her towards the stage. Various reporters called out to her - some in greeting and some with questions. Senator O'Neal ignored all of them, her face a stone mask of terror as she walked to the stage. Upon reaching the small table, Paul and Senator O'Neal sat carefully. The young woman trembled and Paul reached out, squeezing her hand under the table. "Two minutes!" An old man called out from the far end of the stage. He wore a large headset connected to a battery pack on his belt. "Paul," Senator O'Neal whispered, her eyes locked on the cameras. "I have to pee. I have to pee so bad. Like, now." "We can't, Senator," he told her. "This is going to be live. We can't delay." "But, Paul," the young woman whined. "I... I have to throw up. I'm going to throw up everywhere. All over the table. What am I supposed to do?" Paul squeezed the senator's hand again. "You'll be fine. You've done this before. Just take out your note cards, glance over them and, if you have to, read directly from them. They won't like it but it doesn't matter." "Oh, okay. I'll-" "Ten seconds!" The old man yelled. "No," Senator O'Neal said firmly. "I have to pee. I can't hold it. I can't. I have-" "Two. One." The old man gestured at the table, giving two thumbs up. Senator O'Neal froze. Red lights glared on the cameras in front of her and she could hear the crowd of reports moving and coughing and whispering. "Cards," Paul said, his lips not moving an inch. The senator's eyes were as large as teacups and her chest was heaving as she nearly hyperventilated. She looked over at Paul and then down at her cards. Licking her lips, she picked up the cards and stared at them. "S... s..." Senator O'Neal stuttered. "Senator Bad Man is-" The young woman looked up as a roar of laughter echoed around the room. She thought of what she just said and blushed. Tears shined wetly in her eyes. Looking down at her hands, she whispered to her side. "Paul, they're laughing at me. I can't do this." "You can. Just start over and ignore them," Paul said. He gently squeezed her leg and she sighed next to him. "S... senator Bowman is con... conclusively linked to various organ...organizations that have steadily provided donations to accounts listed both under his own name and under companies linked to him. The-" Senator O'Neal turned to Paul. A thin line of blood traced down her nose. A second line joined the first. "Paul," she said, her voice well above a whisper. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by simple confusion. "Paul, look right here. It says 'ass.' Is it okay to say 'ass' on TV?" The stunned silence was palpable around them. Paul trembled slightly, his hand reaching for a phantom gun. His eyes automatically followed where she was pointing. The word 'assumption' was just above her finger. As he started to answer her, her eyes fluttered in her head. A small blob of pink and red blood oozed from her nose. The young woman moaned as her jacket opened wide, exposing her chest to the cameras. Or, rather, her chest was expanding and it pushed the jacket aside. Paul could clearly see the outline of Senator O'Neal's breasts as the shirt pulled tight against their growth. Buttons strained valiantly. From his angle, he could see as the breasts flattened together, the soft skin pushing through the gaps in the shirt. A single button popped in the middle of her shirt. A second followed and then a third and, finally, the top fourth button. Senator O'Neal's breasts spilled out of her shirt and she gasped, arching her back, moaning loudly in ecstasy. Her already large breasts continued to grow into epic proportions. Paul sprang to his feet, blocking her from the cameras. In a single motion, he grabbed her and picked her up. She was light in his arms and her breasts pressed softly against his chest Ignoring the loud cries and shouts, he ran from the room. Senator O'Neal writhed against Paul as he moved. She gasped in his ear and her hands roamed his body, groping and squeezing him. He could feel her teeth against his ear as he reached the hallway. He set her down and she immediately leaned back against the wall. Her smile was nearly predatory as she hefted her gigantic breasts. Her tongue lapped at the fat nipple of her right breast. "Paul," she moaned. "We're all alone and I feel so hot." Her hands worked at her skirt and the only reason it stayed on was because her expanded hips made it difficult for her to easily take it off. Paul shuddered and grabbed her wrists, pulling her along towards the door. As he rounded the corner, he heard a door slam open. Voices yelled for the senator as he ran. Paul said a silent prayer of relief as the door to the garage appeared before him. He reached for the handle but the door opened hard, wrenching his arm. Three men stepped through the door. Paul immediately recognized Senator Bowman and he marked the other two as hired muscle. One of them grabbed him as he reached for Senator O'Neal. The second thug slammed his fist into Paul's stomach and only the first man's grip kept him on his feet. "Far beyond my expectations," Senator Bowman said. His eyes roamed Senator O'Neal's body and she smiled at him, her hands running along her sides and up to her breasts. She looked unreal - a porn star's dream. Her breasts flared out alongside a slim upper body and torso. As gigantic as they were, not a single stretch mark was visible. Her large, erect nipples were perfectly positioned and stood at full, pink attention. Her flat stomach curved out over generous hips that vanished beneath her skirt. She leaned back against the wall, legs spread as she presented herself. Amidst the perfection, blood covered the area between her lips and nose. Senator O'Neal stalked to Senator Bowman. She reached for his crotch and squeezed while groaning deep in her throat. "How about you?" she asked. "Will you help me out? I just feel so incredibly hot and I-" Senator Bowman pressed his lips against the woman and kissed her deeply. Senator O'Neal's arms reached around to grip his head and back, wrapping herself tightly against him. "Get your goddamned hands-!" Paul yelled. He was cut short as thug #2 slammed his fist into Paul's face. Paul's vision blurred and he tasted blood from cuts in his mouth. "Leave him. We'd better get going before the reporters catch up." Senator Bowman pulled away from Senator O'Neal and all four left while Paul watched, helplessly. He heard a car's engine start just as a flock of reporters caught up to him. ----- Robert startled awake when his phone buzzed loudly on the night stand near his bed. He lay naked and sprawled above his covers. Smacking his lips, he grabbed his phone to stare at it. The time on the phone told him that he'd slept into late afternoon. The leopard has changed its spots. The message read. "Who comes up with this lame ass Secret Squrrel bullshit?" he asked the room. Still, he knew that meant the job was finished and that meant he was free until the next one. Putting the phone away, Robert rolled to his stomach and closed his eyes again. He could feel little aches in his joints and muscles and, now that he was awake, it was enough to keep him awake. With a sigh, Robert sat up. And again reached for his phone. After a quick look through his contact list, he made a call. "Hi," he said to the woman that answered. "Yeah, I'd like to make an appointment today. How free- Oh, great. Yup, I'll be right over. My regular. Sandy? Yeah, perfect. Thanks!" Robert stood and stretching, relishing the way his tendons felt as he reached and pulled. The young man dug through his closet to find some casual clothes for the evening. He tossed a pair of dark brown cargo pants and a thick black shirt onto his bed with ankle socks. Finally, a pair of black boxer-briefs joined the pile. Stepping over to his bed, he paused as his feet brushed something soft. Robert looked down to find the lady's red panties crumbled on the ground. He could see the stains from his cum on the front of the panties and, almost immediately, his cock began throbbing. Robert bit his lip as his cock lifted, growing fully hard. His heart beat quickly in the chest and his penis bobbed in time. Looking over at his pile of clothes, he considered for a moment and then bent down to the panties. His cum had dried, leaving a few stiff spots on the material but it was still soft in his hands. He brought the panties over to his bed and sat with them. Looking around and blushing as he realized that he was home and there was nobody to see, Robert ran the panties along his legs. Where his own underwear was slightly rough on his skin, the panties were silky smooth. He couldn't tell whether he was feeling overly sensitive or whether the material simply felt that good against his body but, either way, he shivered in response. With another quick look around the empty apartment, Robert slid the panties slowly up over his legs. He gasped in pleasure, squirming and nearly moaning until he had to stand to pull the panties around his ass. His manhood pressed hard against the front of the panties. The material was so smooth and warm that it almost felt like he was inside a woman's wet pussy. He looked down at himself and, then, before he could change his mind, he reached for his pants. He'd expected the rough cargo pants to take away from the sensations provided by the panties but, instead, it highlighted their feel. Robert found that as he moved, the panties slid against him and that feeling made him even more turned on. Quickly pulling on his shirt and socks, grabbed his keys, wallet and cellphone and walked to the door. Living downtown afforded several benefits - one of which was that everything important was in walking distance. Robert walked the sidewalk, admiring the beautiful morning. His eyes strayed to several women that crossed his path. He watched them walk but, rather than enjoying the shape of their ass, he found himself wondering what kind of panties they were wearing. What kind and what fabric and whether they felt as good as his did. Several times he had to step oddly to subtly work out an odd pinch from the underwear and he began to grow jealous of the other women. Jealous of the way their panties fit them. How natural it would be for them. Finally, Robert arrived at his massage parlor. The smell of fresh baked bread from the nearby caf? made his stomach rumble but he ignored it. "Welcome, Mr. Williams," the well-dressed receptionist told him as he entered. "Sandy is setting up in room three and should be ready momentarily. Please have a seat. May I bring you some coffee?" "No, thank you," Robert answered. He sat on a small black leather couch facing the lobby. Men and women wearing the company's signature black pants and black t-shirts walked around, tidying up their outside areas. Robert watched them work. Again and again he found his attention being drawn to a tall man in the corner of the room. He had a small beard and strong arms but Robert's eyes were drawn to the man's crotch. Specifically, at the bulge in the man's crotch. Jesus. He's not even hard, Robert thought. Just. Bulging. Goddamned lucky asshole. I mean, I'm not small but what I wouldn't give to have that. Women must fall all over themselves trying to get to him. Probably fucks like a stallion. Slamming into women, pounding them. Cumming deep inside of them. Filling them with it until it's oozing out them. Thick and creamy and- Robert's finger tweaked at his nipple and his body jumped in response. He felt pressure at the front of his skull while his mind wandered. The imagery of the man cumming. The imagined women were gone and all that was left was the man and his impressively erect cock. Thick gouts of cum spurted over and over. Robert licked his lips, moaning and squirming in the chair. The panties slid with him, reminding him that he wore them. He could almost smell the man's cum. It'd be sweet, like his, he decided. And salty. And it'd coat his throat and tongue as he swallowed it, pumping him until he was drained. Robert stood and walked over to the receptionist. He was sweating slightly along his hairline and his cock ached to the point of being painful. "Excuse me," Robert gasped. "That... that man in the corner. Is he available for a massage?" "Jonathon?" the receptionist asked. "Yes, for the next two hours. Shall I change your appointment?" "Y... yes. Thank you." Robert watched the young man answer the phone in his private room. "He's ready for you now, Mr. Williams," the receptionist said. Without another word, Robert threaded his way through the room, eyes locked on the small room in the corner. Soothing music played in the dim lighting. Jonathon was laying out a sheet and a pile of towels as Robert entered. "Hi, I'm Jonathon," he said. "I've set your towels and sheet out so just get comfortable and I'll be back in a couple minutes." Robert forced himself not to watch as the man left. When the door clicked shut, Robert stripped. He carefully folded his pants, shirt and socks, laying them in the corner. He stood, naked except for his panties. Her panties, he corrected himself. It was thrilling. A little secret just for himself. Robert lay down on his stomach on the massage table. He pulled the thick sheet up over his waist and waited. A light knock at the door was followed by Jonathon quietly entering. He brought a basket full of various lotions that he set on the nearby table. "So, what am I working on today?" Jonathon asked. "Everything," Robert answered. "Neck, shoulders, back, legs, all of it." "Hah," the man laughed. "All right then. I'll get started." The volume of the music increased slightly and Robert closed his eyes as he rested his hands on the small bars under the headrest. Jonathon stood in front of Robert as he worked on Robert's shoulders. Robert lifted his head slightly and was rewarded with a close-up of the man's crotch. Involuntarily drawing in a deep breathe, he was slightly disappointed when he couldn't smell his scent. Jesus, it is huge, Robert thought. All coiled up in there. Just waiting to be let out. I wonder if he's circumcised? God, all he'd have to do is unzip right now. Just unzip and roll it out and press it into my mouth. It's just right there and I'm at the right height to do it. I'd suck him off so good until he burst in my mouth. Oh god. All that cum. All of it. Swallowing it all down. Robert lay his head back down and closed his eyes. His cock pressed hard against the massage table and he caught himself working his hips in small motions as, in his mind, he grinded himself on Jonathon's thick cock. A hot red flush crept up Robert' throat and cheeks and he forced himself to stop. He chastised himself until the man's hands went down to his shoulders. The motion of Jonathon's hands rubbing deep into his back made Robert's nipples scratch against the sheet beneath him. Nerves lit up from his nipples straight down to his balls and he had to bite back a moan. His nipples hardened, pressing back into his chest. Small breasts formed on his sculpted chest. The skin softened and swelled slightly, pushing his nipples and small areola down slightly. The growing breasts flattened as they developed, the sensation lost beneath the grinding caused by Jonathon's massage. The brown of his nipples leeched away unseen, replaced by a soft, gentle pink color. Robert lost himself in his day dream as Jonathon worked his way down his body. Only when the man worked on the muscles of Robert's ass did he have to force himself to lie still. The urge to whimper and beg and plead was incredibly strong. As the heel of Jonathon's hands worked at the large muscles of his ass, he thought of the man behind him, spreading his ass cheeks, probing him with his gigantic cock. Fingertips digging into his ass as he teased and toyed with him. Dream-Robert begged him to hurry. The massage was over faster than he realized. Robert felt drugged and slow as Jonathon picked up his various lotions. "Take your time getting dressed, sir. Just come on out when you're done. No hurry at all," Jonathon told him. Robert nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He could feel his own pre-cum soaked into the sheet beneath him. Worse, he could smell it and his mouth watered. When the door closed and he was alone, Robert quickly sat up, stepping away from the table. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He asked. His cock felt like it was going to burst and he very nearly masturbated right there in the massage room. Instead, he turned away and forced himself to get dressed. I'm not a fucking cross dresser. I don't like men, he reassured himself. I just... what the hell. What the hell, Robert? What're you doing? You need to get out of here and get back to your apartment and get your head straight. Pulling on his pants, his thumb brushed the head of his cock, coating it in pre-cum. Robert licked at his thumb before buttoning his pants. This nonsense will pass, he told himself, completely unaware of what he'd just done. Robert quickly made his way out, paying as he left. The sun was huge and fat and red on the horizon. Robert turned and stuffed his hands into his pocket, shoulders hunched protectively. Halfway to his apartment, his stopped, catching himself in the reflection of a storefront's window. Something seemed different about his face but, he couldn't place it. Like catching something at the very corner of his eyes, he noticed little things were off but that was all. And then he looked up at one of the mannequins in the store window. The featureless mannequin in the store front wore a skimpy outfit. The panties were nearly as sheer as the top and both were black and red. The mannequin's breasts were cupped in a bra that left the top half exposed. Robert traced the figure with his eyes. The breasts and hips and stomach. Everything so smooth and rounded in all the right places. Everything fit so well. It wasn't fair, a part of him said. The other two mannequins were dressed in similar outfits. Robert twitched. I just... I'll go in and look, that's all, he told himself. Just to look and touch. I bet their outfits are really soft. Robert was inside the store before he realized he'd crossed the threshold. A young, smiling woman greeted him. "Hi! Welcome to Donna's on 6th," she said. She was pretty in an unspoiled way. Young and petite with small breasts. He looked her completely up and down, noting - enviously - her figure and her outfit. "Can I help you find anything?" "I'm just looking, thanks," Robert said. Unreasonable anger flooded him but he forced himself to smile back. She looked good in her clothes. Natural. "For my girlfriend." The women frowned slightly and then nodded. "Oh, sure. Just look around and if you need help with anything, let me know!" Fake bitch, Robert thought. Browsing slowly, avoiding any other women that walked along the store, Robert made his way to the lingerie section. He couldn't stop touching everything. Feeling the contrasts in different materials. Stretching them. Picturing them on him. Glancing surreptitiously, Robert took a few of the larger panties. Different styles and different fabrics. On another rack, he found a pink top like the one in the front window. It joined the small pile on his arm. Closer to the dressing room he looked through shelves and racks until he found a black mini-skirt and pink cashmere top. With another glance, Robert waited until the sales clerk's attention was elsewhere. And, then, he stepped into a changing room and closed the door. Thankfully, the room was large and the door closed completely with no gaps underneath. Robert laid the items down to kick off his shoes and undo his pants. He moaned as he slid the panties down his legs. Unnoticed by him, some leg hair came away when the underwear rubbed against his leg, leaving smooth, clear spots of skin behind. Robert dug through the things he picked out until he settled on one in particular. It was made of some clear fabric with white lace in an intricate pattern. It was shorter than the red pair he'd been wearing but also wider at the hips. The sides curved up to the waistband in order to show off the thighs. Naked from the waist down, Robert watched carefully as he stepped into the panties. More leg hair came away and, as he worked his hips, bones shifted slightly in his lower back. Fatty tissue grew to cover the rock hard muscles of his ass and his butt bubbled out slightly as he worked the small panties up over them. He turned to watch as the bottom of the panties pulled tight between his ass cheeks, disappearing between his now slightly rounded ass. Robert swiveled his hips left and right and then turned to face himself. The short panties barely covered his cock. He reached down to touch the material, tracing his fingers along the threading. However, the pressure in his balls was finally too much. Robert leaned forward, pushing his ass back at an imaginary partner. One hand on the wall next to the mirror, he bit his lips and stroked himself. In his mind, Jonathon was in front of him and he had his hand on the man's thick cock. The other man ran his fingers through Roberts hair as Robert pumped his manhood, kissing at the tip to- Again, Robert's orgasm surprised him. He cried out, voice cracking slightly. Covering his mouth, he moaned as his cock swelled over and over, covering the mirror in his cum. Robert's legs shook from the force of the orgasm and he collapsed to his knees. Still his legs quivered uncontrollably until a final, weak spurt of cum dribbled to the ground. The smell of his own cum was maddening. Robert stared at it, inches from his face now that he was on his knees. On his knees like a good little woman. Where I should be, a part of him said. Where I was in my mind with Jonathon. Looking up at him as he smiled down at me. Stroking him until he came in my mouth. Oh god. The cum. Robert opened his eyes, staring at the mirror. His heart pounded in his chest and his heart raced. Slowly, he leaned forward. Lips parted and his tongue pressed forward until the tip touched a still-warm glob of his cum. Robert trembled, a piece of him screaming in rage while another piece, a new piece urged him on. Rather than the quick lick that he'd planned, Robert pressed his tongue flat and lapped his own cum off of the mirror. The taste of it sparked explosions in his brain. He'd tried cocaine before and other drugs but absolutely nothing compared. Nothing at all. He couldn't get enough. Again and again he licked at the door until every last bit of it was clean. Robert's hands went to his chest, massaging the pre-teen breasts under his shirt, tweaking his nipples as his hips rocked. More bones shifted beneath his skin and his hips widened slightly. Under his attention, his nipples and areola grew. His new pink nipples begged for his attention and he obliged, reaching under his shirt to pinch and pull at them. Another orgasm tore through his body. Robert's mouth opened at the shock of it. It was a kind of orgasm he'd never felt before - something deep within him that rippled through his body. Even now he felt the aftershocks of it and his hips jerked. Cum dribbled out of his half- hard cock. Pushing himself up on shaky legs, Robert looked around the room. The carpet was stained with his cum and everything smelled like sex. Almost. Almost he got down on his knees to lick at the floor. He felt the pull. He felt the echo of that incredible taste and the things it did to him. Instead, he quickly changed into his clothes and grabbed the items he'd picked out. Robert opened the door and cursed himself for not checking first. The clerk was only two racks away and she looked up as he stepped out. A look crossed her face before professionalism took over. However, she couldn't help but throw in a dig. "Did you find everything you were looking for, sir?" she asked. Shame, anger, jealousy, embarrassment and other emotions rolled through Robert. You're just a little flat chested bitch. Ugly cunt. I bet your boyfriend has to put a bag on your goddamned head to fuck you. And sucking cock with that mouth? I don't fucking think so. You probably couldn't even get the head past your lips. Useless little bitch. "Yes. I'm ready to check out." ----- Karyn's cellphone woke her at 6 pm. She'd stumbled home in the morning, pissed that her favorite pair of panties were gone. And, now, it took several minutes to realize that it was actually time to wake up. Work, she remembered. Time for my shift at the hospital. She stretched and yawned and sat up in her bed. Her t-shirt, stolen from an old boyfriend, hugged her body. She always gave herself barely time to do anything more than shower and get dressed and today was no different. Normally she hated waking up for work but she found herself oddly refreshed. She smiled at the fading sunlight and hummed as she made her way to the bathroom. With a few awkward twirls and impromptu dance steps, Karyn giggled as she looked at herself in the mirror. "Best me-cation ever!" she told her reflection. "I feel like, a million times better. Holy crap." Reaching for a roll of toilet paper, she pulled a couple squares of paper off and sniffed before blowing her nose. Tossing the toilet paper away, she grabbed her toothbrush. "Seriously," she said again. "I think this is, so far, the best day I've ever had." The toilet paper shifted slightly in the trash as blood and pink fleshy tissue weighed it down.