Dot Dorothea and Dick
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Xxxecil's: Nymph(a)ManiacsChapter 2: The Reaallllly Big Dicks... free porn video
I was ... awake? If I was awake now ... it meant that I must have passed out! The second time that's happened! An orgasm so intense that it caused me to loose consciousness! I was alone in my cozy, but small bunk. A very spartan decor to the room. Maps and strategy notes on the walls mostly. I felt moist all over and was wearing a bathrobe, but I seemed safe and secure back in my home base.
A small window behind me revealed the industrial yard where I currently made my dwelling. The whole site was Brownfield land, an old chemical factory shut down due to a nasty hazardous waste spill. The County had tried to get it up and running again, but the new budget from the State Capitol just didn't allow the funding to continue cleanup. So the site was fenced off and in perpetual legal limbo. And it had everything I needed.
Another reminder of the stark reality of my chosen calling. I had pretty much given up my trust-fund for this grey, dank, rusty ruin outside the window. Sold, sacrificed and loaned away what could be a comfortable future to instead be some kind of modern-day Van Helsing hunter-slayer. Except the creatures I was after didn't suck blood. And they didn't look life European aristocrats with fangs. I guess if I tried to describe my current life; it does sound rather zany, cartoonish maybe. But I wasn't afraid to give up my future for this, because if the Nympha weren't stopped; no one would really have a future. Not for Jessie, not for me. I rose quickly and adjusted my bathrobe and...
Wait...
Bathrobe...
And I felt rather moist ... old clothes were gone.
And I didn't remember anything.
Jessie?
Well, I sure didn't hire a scrub-nurse.
That must mean that Jessie had changed me, bathed me after I'd cum all over myself - and it had been a record load. I wasn't a doctor; but I was pretty sure that my current output was probably beyond the natural, biological limit for a man of any age! And getting worse! And Jessie ... without being asked ... completely cleaned my naked, ejaculating body. I just ... I didn't know we had that kind of relationship! I'd been trying to keep things so professional with her! Not that it mattered; Jessie was a real woman, a decent woman. She wouldn't be interested in some kind of sex-freak like I was becoming. Plus, I'd heard that to be honest, a lot of women just don't enjoy the reeeeeeeaaally big dicks.
A small, efficiency mirror was in the wall of my room near the door. My proud, sharp chin, clean shaven head and dark skin gazed back at me from my reflection. Over the past seven months I'd gotten a little more muscular. I suspected there were a lot of women that might find me handsome, as I flexed my pectoral muscles. Of course, some of those women weren't really women at all! There wasn't much room in my life for a white-picket fence settled-down relationship, plus I was unsure at the full extent of Nympha infiltration. It'd be just my luck to fall head over heels for a girl who's really a sperm-sucking alien!
Well, no time to sit idle in bed; time to get down to the Control Room. The condition with my dick made me feel like a dying man; and I'd have to accomplish whatever I could on borrowed time.
My uncle's lucrative trust-fund money had been cashed in to build, in part - this telecommunications center here in the guts of the old Brownfield chem-plant. Of course, a lot of what I was doing was pretty illegal; but human laws barely concerned me. Screens monitored the status of hidden cameras and microphones placed - sometimes at great risk, in sensitive locations all throughout the County. I walked past a large display screen showing an electron-orbital computer reconstruction of the structure of the Bacillus thuringiensis toxin molecule. Graphic animation showed the three-part mesh of spheres floating towards a cell membrane, attaching to the surface, and actively pumping out the guts of the cell. Originally a biotech pesticide; but I'd found that it was actually my best weapon against the Nympha. There was a reason for that.
I was dressed in black leather pants and jacket, lots of pockets and insulation, not so much to carry anything right now, but to appear serious, and to hide my overwhelming penis. I passed a panel that contained equipment monitoring a series of my covert microphones. A small screen produced a waveform extrapolation of the sounds received, translated into a visible, digital series of waves, valleys, and peaks.
"Nnnnuhhhh ... uhhh ... uhh ... uhhh ... uhh...
That sound produced wavy, virbrating hills on the display.
SLURPSHLUNK
Some sharp spikes.
"B-best I ... ever had ... unnnnnn..."
I recognized that voice as belonging to the County Sheriff; just as I suspected.
To my right side, there was a plastic enclosure about waist-level, containing several tomato plants on which bloated, green caterpillars were feeding, munching mindlessly on the leaves, and the occasional green tomato. Above them on another screen was a diagram of caterpillar anatomy. Seemingly unrelated; but in fact this was crucial.
That was when Jessie walked in. I could hear her soft footsteps behind me.
"Oh Jessie, did you - " My tongue caught in my throat, my penis throbbed. Jessie was dressed ... casually. For her, that meant cut-off short-shorts and a scandalous white tank-top. The sort of tank-top that seemed to allow tenting from nipples underneath. Jessie's figure was slender and fit, enough to be healthy ... but not enough to look like an extreme athlete. Her boobs were busty and pleasant - yet not so huge as to cause traffic accidents, pleasing D-cup handfuls. But the total package was a seductive girl-next-door charm with a dash of wannabe glam-model. She seemed more ... marriageable. Porn stars and Nympha had appearances that made a man howl with lust, filling him (and me) with a groin-tingling urge to ravish and mount them somewhere private, but not take home to meet any family. But somehow, with Jessie - I truly wanted to mate with her; completely, in every sense.
My penis agreed. Like a rattlesnake lashing out at prey, my traitorous dick seemed to leap in my pants. Throbbing with erect potential. I quickly turned away to conceal my mighty manmeat. I couldn't let Jessie see the volcanic arousal that yearned to impale her womanhood. And all this after the biggest spew of jizz in my life! My accursed libido seemed limitless. Mating urges tingled up my spine, and I had to willingly suppress a wave of fantasies. How I yearned to grab and caress this woman, to kiss my way from her pleasing boobs down to her taut abs, to vigorously, deliberately plant my manseed in her belly...
"What was that last part, Cecil?" she asked. Wha- I didn't say any of that out loud, did I?
"Ehrr ... turn on the telly - eh ... television ... monitors ... to check surveillance." I attempted. Without further ado, Jessie called up several video files from the main database.
"Ah ... I recognize that room ... those offices ... yeah - this is the conference room for WWSS-23, the County's local radio and T.V. news outlet."
"And if you look ... there!" Jessie pointed on the screen to a parcel laying unattended on the rectangular conference table. "That's what WE sent them! All those videos and recordings of various Nympha activities and conversations!"
"But somehow, the station never seemed interested in any of the evidence we presented." I complained. "And - ohh ... something's happening!" A balding, fortyish executive entered the conference room and the area of the camera.
"I'm just amazed you were able to sneak a camera system in here!" I remarked. Jessie was really something!
"I'm pretty slick, aren't I?" she teased.
The next person to enter the conference chamber had to be one of the Enemy. Wavy curls of dark hair cascaded over a navy-blue business dress. Swells of creamy cleavage seemed to jut up forcefully from the opening at her neckline. Her face had a smooth, sculpted beauty of high cheekbones and fluttering eyelashes; with lips that looked to be painted on a porcelein doll.
"I did ... wh-what you wanted..." The news executive stammered. "Killed the story ... on the table here ... last evidence we have..."
"Excellent..." The Nympha purred. "It was good that you did that..."
"G-good..." The exec's eyes fluttered, as if he was struggling to wake up.
Or as if he were under some sort of trance. The Nympha closed and sealed the door to the conference chamber - before fully revealing herself.
Her clothing, the navy-blue dress suit seemed to slither and unfold itself. The outfit unraveling in seconds to become thick lobes of material seemingly attached to the woman's back. The slithering lobes changed colors, seemed to change textures.
As the change continued, a nearby printer beeped near me. I removed the fax, still keeping an eye on the screen. It was from one of my University contacts; I had tried to get in touch with a number of biology professors over recent months, both to try and convince other people of the threat, and also to see what their expertise could tell me about the aliens.
Lately, I'd sent out numerous cell and tissue samples to scientists and professors who seemed helpful and curious. But the results I ended up with were largely the same.
The Fax had given me a printed report of a DNA comparison between my samples, and all species currently on record. Once again; the only similarity was to an insect.
Insect? That had certainly thrown me for a loop the first time. More specifically; most of the biologists I contacted congratulated me for discovering a previously unknown species of moth.
What the Hell? These were living, breathing, hot-blooded, lusty, busty babes! And their machines and laboratories kept telling me I had sent them samples from a bug?
A mistake? Human error? Maybe some grad student had flubbed up something? Maybe once ... twice? But five times? Twelve times? Twelve different laboratories had been interested and able to run genetic and biochemical tests on the Nympha specimens I'd sent and all told me the same thing. A Bug.
Turns out, there was a logical reason why it seemed that way.
The woman I was watching on the view screen continued to transform her clothes. What had looked like a business dress had now split into what seemed to be formations of living tissue. Lobes widened and separated from each other, becoming discrete sections of color-shifting material bending away from the now nude body of the alien woman-creature. Once the objects had reached full extension, it became clearer what the viewer was seeing.
Wings. More specifically, butterfly wings. The pattern was clear. There was a larger, top pair, and a smaller bottom set. They were colorful, venous structures of scintillating purple and blue. In her true form, I could see scales of irridescent rainbow-colors along her wings and skin. I had already realized the truth; Nympha wings were incredibly flexible, able to change colors and textures and migrate across the body. They could simulate any potential clothing this way. I had seen that they could even make their wings invisible, to simulate bikinis, or appear naked. Her hair shone with glowing sparkles throughout the visible light spectrum. And her eyes of course, had that swirly, mesmerizing effect.
Unlike some sci-fi movie aliens, their true forms weren't all tentacles and claws and horror - but rather heart-aching beauty. Another danger they posed; who wouldn't want to give themselves over to a glowing goddess like this!? My penis certainly did. I had to tug on my pants to try and rein in the furious surges of my cock; so eager and willing to surrender my seed to this radiant demon, this monster of lust and wonder. Well, I just reminded myself that what they would do to the human race wouldn't be so pretty!
The Nympha fluttered her wings at Exec man; he moaned with pleasure, his penis threatening to rip through his clothing. No doubt bombarded by a blast of intense pheromones. I had been studying; I knew that butterflies had special glands on their wings that secreted a sexual attractant - but that was for males to lure females. The Nympha seemed to possess scent glands that served a different purpose.
"You never got those tapes; you don't know anything about aliens in this County. Whoever sent that evidence is a kook." The sultry invader instructed.
"Whoever ... sent ... evidence ... is a kook." Exec man drawled. Faintly colored mists wafted into his face. He breathed deeply, then smiled stupidly as his brain was rearranged for the alien's benefit.
As I thought. I'd been studying some entomology lately, what with the results I was getting. Androconidia - the glands on wings that males used to attract females; but for Nympha the glands had become a delivery system for some neurotoxic mind-control chemical! I knew it had to be something like this; this was why my evidence was ignored. This was why those in power didn't seem to notice anything amiss - they were brainwashed!
"And if you always follow instructions; I can fuck you." She promised condescendingly.
"Always obey ... please fuck..." Exec man moaned. The alien smiled knowingly, as she pushed him down onto the conference table.
His pants were torn asunder in moments and he seemed almost to weep with glee at the coming coitus with his alien sex-mistress.
Her breasts were the kind of forward-thrusting mamms that seemed to jut outwards towards a sex partner with deliberate eroticism. Nipples and aureolas seemed to point torpedo-like at her target, as if locking on for laser-guided seduction. And they seemed to be getting bigger.
"Drink," Nympha cooed. And she did not have to explain. Exec man opened his mouth with an expression of beatific gratitude and clamped down on a thrusting nipple. Where once her boobs seemed just about an inch larger than overgrown grapefruits, now they seemed to swell yet larger, as if she was making her milk right then and there for her victim.
Between the time his lips first latched onto the right nipple, and before he had a chance to pucker his mouth four times, her boobs seemed to gain another inch. Next, her tits seemed to widen, sprouting into full frontal orbs of mouth-watering voluptuosity, as Exec man began fondling, kneading the left tit amidst gurgles of mind-bending pleasure.
Nympha grunted, and put her hand to the back of the man's head, arching her spine with the pleasure of her mind-altering lactation. This occurred to me as another avenue of investigation. I had seen firsthand that any man fool enough to drink from a Nympha's breast would belong to her - body and soul. But I didn't really know why, on a scientific level. That could be something vital!
The alien slut hissed with pleasure, in the time it took for her partner to take ten sips, her mamms had gone from their former grapefruit size to footballs of womanflesh ripe and tight with white nectar.
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