Everything Is Coming Up Milhouse free porn video

EVERYTHING IS COMING UP MILHOUSE Milhouse pushed back from the work desk, stretched his back, and twisted his neck from one side to the other. The clock above the lab room door read 7:37, Friday night. He imagined everyone else on campus out and about: drinking at bars, going to the movies, getting ready for dates or to go out to the clubs. Having fun. "Oh well," he sighed. It was a long path to get here. First a year spent in Juvie thanks to "his best friend" Bart. Then three years at Springfield Community College. Again, thanks to Bart, it took a year longer than it should have. But during his time at SCC, he'd discovered an interest in Archaeology. Professor Miller nurtured that interest into a passion, and helped him secure a place at Shelbyville State. "Wouldn't you rather stay closer to home and go to Springfield U?" Professor Miller had asked. "NO!" He had nearly shouted back. "I mean, I want to try and get out on my own." Which was technically true, but it would also put some distance between him and Bart, too. At first, it worked. Bart's car had died over the summer, and he didn't much care for public transportation, so getting to Shelbyville proved to be difficult. But Bart's talent to show up like a bad penny and fuck up Milhouse's life was too prodigious. In fact yesterday, marked the end of a two week suspension from Museum duty caused by a Bart Simpson visit. "Hiya, Milhouse!" As if summoned by some infernal incantation, Bart stood just inside the door, a wicked grin on his face. "Bart! Damn it! You're not suppose to be here! You're going to get me in trouble again! How did you even get in here after hours?!" "It wasn't easy but I managed." Milhouse sighed. "Bart, I can't get suspended again. They'll kick me out of school," Milhouse whimpered. "Relax, Milhouse. No one's ever gonna know I'm here if we leave now and hit downtown Shelbyville." "I can't Bart! I gotta catalogue these artifacts for Professor Ambrose by Monday morning." "Come on, Milhouse. You've got all weekend to do that. I'm here now, let's go!" "Bart, I can't. I need to get this done. I've told you, if you want to hang out with me now, you've got to call me first so I can make the time." Bart scowled. He had never liked being told no, and absolutely hated to hear it when Milhouse said it. Ever since kindergarten, Milhouse had been Bart's sidekick. Bart was the one in charge; Milhouse followed; that was Milhouse's role--to be there whenever Bart wanted him to be there. But ever since they had graduated from high school, Milhouse had been growing more and more of a spine. Bart tried to get Milhouse to work construction, but, no, that wasn't good enough. He had to go off to community college, work at a museum. A museum! Bart could see what Milhouse was trying to do--improve himself so that Lisa might consider fucking him again, but that was never going to happen. Smarty pants Lisa was gone away to Harvard and was never, ever coming back to Springfield to produce Milhouse spawn. Milhouse knew that, and Bart ridiculed him for it, feeding him steady news of Lisa's rather successful personal life. Every boyfriend was better than the last, and Milhouse was the zero that started that progression. "You're such a loser, Milhouse." Milhouse knew he needed to get Bart to leave--the sooner, the better--or he was going to get more and more obnoxious and insistent. He couldn't, couldn't get suspended from this internship again. He shook his head. It wasn't fair. He always had to follow Bart's lead or fall victim to Bart's unique brand of fraternal terrorism. "Okay, okay, Bart. Give me a few minutes. Let me just finish with this piece." "Sure, Milhouse! Maybe I can help!" "No, Bart." Bart looked over the pieces on the work table. His eyes were drawn to two figures. One had the exaggerated appearance of a muscle bound male, the other a voluptuous set of feminine curves. He snatched the former off the table. "Look, Milhouse, Rainier Wolfcastle!" "Bart, NO! Put that down, everything here is extremely fragile!" "Doesn't look that fragile to me!" He thrust the figure at Milhouse while doing his best impression, "You have the right to remain DEAD!" "Quit it, Bart! Put it back!" Milhouse tried to grab it out of Bart's hand. Bart brushed him aside a took a step back. "You want it, Milhouse? Come get! Come on, take it away from me." Despite Milhouse's best efforts to grow a spine, Bart was still the physically stronger of the two. He easily pushed Milhouse down, batting away his hands as they reached for the figure. After a few minutes, Milhouse backed down, winded by the effort to retrieve the figure from Bart. "Bart, please put it down." Milhouse mewed in a pathetic huff. "Fine, Milhouse, you want it--catch!" Bart tossed the figure across the room. Milhouse reached to catch the figure. It hit his hands, but he couldn't catch it cleanly; it bobbled in and out and over his hands. He almost had it then *SMASH* it fell to the concrete floor. Blue dust rose from the shattered pieces, smokey wisps engulfed Milhouse, seeping into his skin. "Baaaarrrrrrttttt," Milhouse whined, looking at the shattered figure. Bart gave a few snickers in reply. Then IT happened. Milhouse felt his body swell with power. His arms changed from skinny, undefined noodles into those of a bodybuilder's. Had he not been wearing shorts, the new girth of his thighs and calves would have split his pant seams. He could feel his shoulders broaden, his spine--slightly stooped from years of poor self-esteem--straighten, and, overall, he gained six inches of height. The Krusty the Clown t-shirt he wore stretched tight and barely contained his well developed pecs; the hem rose high to show off his immaculate six pack abs. His skin cleared, not a pimple, or even the trace of one, could be seen. His thinning and balding hair was now a shoulder length, lush mane. His vision was suddenly off kilter, until he removed his glasses and realized his astigmatism and myopia were now gone. He felt a new surge of stamina yet still could not fully comprehending what had happened. He took a deep breath, no trace of his asthma remained; he felt as if he could run a marathon or climb Mt. Everest as easily as he could snap his fingers. And then he caught his reflection in a mirror across the room. His nerdy features had been refined into those of an Adonis. He moved his arms and gave a slight flex to his new Herculean muscles. This was his dream body made real. His shorts managed, barely, to contain his new muscular pelvis and thighs, while also betraying how aroused his new physique was making him. The bulge threatened to burst his zipper fly. For the first time since he was a very small child--before the world had bullied, abused, and belittled him--Milhouse felt genuinely excited. "WHOA, MILHOUSE! YOU'RE A STUD!" Bart cried. Milhouse, lost in his own first-time narcissism had almost forgot his friend was there. Bart turned his attention back to the figures on the table, a grin splitting his face. He grabbed the second one and raised it above his head. "NO! WAIT! BART DON'T!" Milhouse yelled, surprised that his voice now possessed a deep, rich authoritative tone. But Bart had lived his life willfully ignoring authority, and this time was no different. He threw the figurine down onto floor at his feet. *SMASH* Pink dust rose from the shattered pieces, seeping into Bart's skin, a pervasive floral scent filled his nostrils. A wicked grin lingered on Bart's face for a second or two, awaiting the expectant changes, but as he felt its first sensations begin, his grin turned to fright. His hips began to expand, grow round. His legs shortened, both the calves and thighs. What muscle definition his body had possessed softened, turned plush. His skin cleared, grew silky soft. All traces of body hair evaporated. His gut constricted into a distinctly feminine waist and belly. The Adam's Apple melted away, the jaw became round. His hands and feet dwindled, became more delicate. An intense tingling covered his face: the nose and ears shrank into cute proportions, the eyes grew larger, the eyelashes longer, cheekbones rising, lips into lush pillows. His short, spiky hair grew into a luxuriant blonde mane. His ass blossomed into a juicy, heart-shaped badonkadonk. But, of course, it was Bart's chest where the most noticeable changes occurred. He could feel the rib cage shift, crack smaller. The nipples grew firm, prominent. And then the swelling started, expanding into bountiful breasts. Growing, growing, the skin taut yet supple and beautiful. All the while his clothing stretched, contorted to fit this new body: the battered sneakers became wedge-heeled sandals, the baggy denim shorts shrank to hug his new hips, made the rotund ass juicy, and between his thighs--the crease of a camel toe. The boxers beneath those shorts had dwindled into a flimsy lace thong that peeked out around the waist. The oversized t-shirt contracted, revealing a sexy belly. The orange, soft fabric gently constricting the new soft curves. The collar stretched out into v-neck, showing her ample cleavage. No bra appeared, and the shirt openly betrayed this fact--hard nipples prominent. She glanced down at the new curves of her body. Her hands, so delicate, caressed her hips, belly, came up to her breasts. Yes, those were real. Her face? She turned to the mirror. There stood a gorgeous, sexy woman. She was a mash-up of goddess and porn star. "Milhouse?" she murmured, turning back to face the old friend. She was arrested by what she saw--Milhouse was the most perfect specimen of manhood that could ever exist. And by comparison, the new body in which she found herself was the feminine compliment to him. The look of lustful fascination on his face repelled her at first, but the longer those eyes leered at her, the more aroused she became; the newly born cleft between her legs began to grow moist. For Milhouse, the person with whom he'd had a long, fraught friendship had blossomed into the loveliest woman he had ever seen. Milhouse had long carried a torch for Simpson women. First, as a very small child, he'd worked through an Oedipal Complex not with his own mother, but with Bart's mom, Marge. Once that was outgrown, Bart's younger sister Lisa became the object of his affections. Lisa went with him to prom, after much badgering, and they'd have a surprisingly amazing night together that culminated in the pair losing their virginity to each other. Despite the less than successful execution of the love act, it *had* happened with his dream crush, and was till now the happiest moment of his life. And then the most painful as Lisa rejected him a few days later. And then again, and again, and again--all of his romantic gestures and overtures over the past few years. She was at Harvard now and had made no secret that she could never date someone who was a student at Shelbyville State. She would now regret that decision. Milhouse locked eyes with the newest Simpson woman and strode over to her. She held his gaze, uncertain what was happening; she bit her lower lip, confused about the sensations she felt from her new body. As Milhouse got closer, she averted her gaze; his presence too much for her. He stopped in front of her. He gently brought his hand to her chin and lifted her face till their eyes met again. "You're very beautiful, Bar- rr-r...." He paused. "That name doesn't fit you anymore, does it?" "No," she said. "Then what should we call you?" "I like... I like..." she thought. "Bertha? No... Maybe, Bar... Barb?... Barbie!" He gave a coy smile. "It suits you very well, Barbie." He leaned in for a kiss, and she welcomed it, almost instinctively. His arms embraced her, drew her so close. Then his hands slipped down the small of her back to her beautiful plush ass. She grew aware of the firm bulge in his shorts swelling harder. It felt good--it felt natural, like she had always belonged to him. But, how? She hadn't been a she for very long. No, she was Bart, not Barbie. She broke off the kiss and pushed Milhouse away. "What's going on?" Her voice was a high pitch flirtatious coo, lacking the huskiness of the other Simpson women. "What's happening? I'm not Bart. I mean, I'm Barbie. No, Barbie, I'm Barbie. Bar-rrr-rrr." She couldn't identify herself with that dead name. "Milhouse help me," she said, and hugged him tightly. Milhouse smiled. "Come with me," he said, and led her to a door at the back of the lab. Inside, there was a small break-room with a worn couch along one wall. He closed the door behind them. Once again, he took her into his arms, and she yielded to his kiss. Their kissing continued, long and passionately, Milhouse was surprised by the amount of raw affection she was showing. Her initial shyness was sloughing away leaving a hot horniness behind. She was slowly yet rhythmically rubbing her crotch against the mighty bulge in his pants. Milhouse broke off their kissing. "You know you can get a better look at it, if you want, Barbie?" "Um, what do you mean?" she asked. Milhouse took a step back and popped open the top button of his shorts. A few small curls of pubic hair could be seen above the waistband of his underwear. He removed his t-shirt. "You know what I mean." he said. Barbie looked at the masterful bulge in Milhouse's pants. She wanted it. She needed it. She bit her lower lip, and looked again into Milhouse's eyes. "Um," she said. He smiled down at her. She immediately started kissing him again, forging a path from his lips to neck to pecs to his rock-hard, perfect abs. Then, on bended knees, she faced Milhouse's swollen groin. In the back of her mind came the thought, "This isn't right. Milhouse is a wimp. Milhouse is small. This isn't Milhouse." Memories of her old existence, faint and faded, floated through her mind. How she as Bart had mercilessly teased Milhouse for his small pecker even when erect. He had even coined the slight "Milhouse's Millimeter", always followed by his obnoxious chuckle, such that Milhouse would always know he was second best to Bart. But now, his bulging groin was barely contained by the denim. He's so manly, she thought. If he wanted, his cock could rip right out of those shorts. The thought excited her, made her newly formed pussy so wet. Her hands caressed his swollen magnificence. Such small hands, perfectly manicured, probing the tension of his girth against the fabric. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of both shorts and underwear, pulled them down slowly. Milhouse's massive new cock leapt to attention out of its former prison. Milhouse and Barbie both marveled at its size and girth. For Milhouse, it was more, much more than he could have ever hoped and dreamed. He could feel the power his new cock gave him. For Barbie, memories of her past life stirred again. Milhouse's Millimeter no more. Now it was MILHOUSE'S MONSTER, she thought. Never had she seen a bigger cock. His former tool was a joke compared to this massive member. Nothing, not even in the hours and hours of porn Bart had watched, could even compare. And now it was pointed right at her face. Barbie was enthralled: she both did and didn't know what to do. She knew what sexy girls were suppose to do, but the one shard of Bart still lodged inside of her resisted. She unconsciously licked her lips. "Barbie?" She looked up at Milhouse. "Do you want to kiss it?" Barbie looked lost for a moment, then nodded ever so slightly. "Kiss it, Barbie. Go ahead, kiss it. You know you want to." He moved his cock ever so closer to her face. Barbie returned her focus to Milhouse's monster. With an easy, natural motion, she closed her eyes and touched the tip of his penis with her lips. She pulled back and gave Milhouse her best sexy, pouty look. "Kiss it again," he commanded. She did, this time pushing her lips over the head of his penis, and then again, and then again--each time taking more and more of his cock into her mouth. She brought up her hands, her right hand stroking his shaft, the left hand fondling his balls. "Give me the blow job you had always wanted to receive...." Bart always had had better success with the ladies than Milhouse--not great success mind you, just more than what Milhouse had experienced. He always bragged about the BJS he'd received from the likes of Jessica Lovejoy, Janey Powell, Sherri & Terri. Milhouse had wanted to believe those stories were fake. However, Bart's bravado went beyond just talk. Now, it was quite obvious, Barbie had learned excellent technique from somewhere. Milhouse smirked as he let the bliss of the first blow job he'd ever received wash over him. Barbie began to coo as best she could with a mouthful of MILHOUSE'S MONSTER. The sounds became more insistent, and Milhouse looked down. Barbie was doing her best to catch his eyes. Doing so, she pulled away, a string of saliva and precum drawn between his cock to her lips. She then engulfed his cock again deep into her throat. She made a cute choking sound then pulled back. She looked up into Milhouse's eyes again. Slowly, deliberately, she reached down to the hem of her top and pulled it over her head. If anything could make Milhouse even harder, it was seeing Barbie's new massive melons--full, firm, soft, juicy. They were absolute perfection. He had no idea what cup size they were, but did know they absolute dwarfed her sister Lisa's C-cups. Barbie bit her lower lip again, then lifter her whole torso to Milhouse's groin. Her breasts pressed to his sticky cock. It felt so good between her boobs, but she couldn't get it to stay there. Milhouse wanted this more than ever. He put his hand on her pretty head and gently pushed her back. "Wait," he said. He hastily took of his shoes and socks, then stripped out of his shorts. Somehow being naked made him feel even more powerful. He sat down on the couch and spread his legs. "Now, come here," he gestured to Barbie. Excitement bloomed over her face, and she crawled over to between his legs. His cock stood so erect. She squeezed her boobs between her arms, knowing it would emphasize their volume, then took his cock between them. She rubbed it between them up and down with a measured rhythm, then once again took his tip between her lips. "Fuuuuucccccckkkkkk," Milhouse moaned. It felt so good. He wanted this to last forever. Then, briefly wondered, why this was lasting so long. His past few experiences were.... well, Barbie's blowjob was going longer than anything ever before. Milhouse ran his hand over Barbie's silky, golden hair, such a gorgeous mane. He marveled at how lost she was in the act. He wasn't sure who was receiving the most pleasure from her ministrations. It was him. Oh, yes; oh, God, yes, it was him, but Barbie was a close second. Barbie herself was lost in the bliss of her new feminine body, worshipping Milhouse's beautiful, big cock. She felt pride that her own massive melons, her lips, tongue, and throat, provided such a perfect pleasurable fit for her lover's monster. She felt compelled to bring him to climax. She needed to feel, smell, taste his cum explode over her body. It was now her only immediate goal, and from the expression on his face and the tremors in his body, she was close to that accomplishment. Milhouse could feel it coming and relished the impending release. Yet he still battled to hold out, watching sexy, sexy Barbie doing everything she could to make him cum. A thin sheen of sweat covered Barb's skin, and the additional heat and lubrication it contributed was heavenly. He large breasts engulfed his cock. Perfection, he thought. Barb sensed how close her lover was to release, and used every ounce of technique she had learned from her past life to bring Milhouse over the edge--tongue, lips, hands working with a renewed efficiency of pleasure. She sensed her lover's tension and tremors. "I'm... I'm... I'm going to... cum, Barbie...." And with that, she gave his balls a firm squeeze to release his torrent. She wanted to take it all, tried to swallow it all. But so much. So much. She gagged, and Milhouse's cock popped out of her mouth still spurting cum, one squirt hit her square in the face, followed by two more splashing on her breasts. Barbie's mind could remember the hours and hours of porn Bart watched, and knew from it--This was heaven. She looked Milhouse in the eyes and opened her mouth to show him how much cum was there, then made a theatrical act of swallowing it. She opened her mouth again, stuck out her tongue to show it was now empty. With a smile, she wiped the spunk off her face, and licked her fingers clean, repeating the act for the cum on her breasts. She giggled, "Milhouse's cum is so yummy in my tummy." She reached back and grabbed her t-shirt to wipe away what little cum she hadn't been able to consume. Milhouse couldn't believe how porny Barbie was acting, but loved it. He was taken aback for a moment, having lost control. His mind was not used to the rush of sex endorphins he'd just received. Not used to it, but loving it. He needed to take back control. He took the bundled up t-shirt from Barbie and tossed it aside, tugging her to him. He began to kiss her breasts, and could taste traces of the saltiness from his cum on her tits. It turned him on. His lips latched on to one of her hard, perfect nipple while his right hand pinched and twisted the other one. Barbie squirmed with pleasure. "Milllllllhoooooouuuuussssssse," she drawled. He moved up her neck with a few quick kisses before their lips met again, tongues twined. He could feel the heat of her body rising. He took her in his arms again and stood up suddenly. When she had found her legs, he reached down and unbuttoned her denim skirt, drew down the fly, and stuck his hands into her panties. Barbie's pussy was a sultry delight that he needed. He pushed skirt and panties down her legs, then pushed her down onto the couch. Barbie sensed what was to happen next. She spread her legs and, with her left hand, spread aside her outer labia. Milhouse marveled at Barbie's new pussy. It was pornstar perfect-- hairless, soft, silky, slick with sweat and juices, an odor intoxicating. Milhouse squatted in front of her. His hands caressed her thighs, then began to gently kiss them. Softly, tenderly, working his kisses up to that exquisite pussy. Once there, he probed her vulva with his fingers, lovingly exploring her folds till he came to her clit. It was not hard to find, and least not on Barbie--large, well-developed, so ripe, he thought. He leaned in to kiss it, lick it, suck it. Barbie buckled in sheer rapture, and, through his firm ministrations, experienced her first female orgasm. She yelped so loud, Milhouse almost expected campus security to show up. For a moment, the old Bart's mind rose to the surface. "No, no, no, I can't be doing this." The voice was slightly deeper. Milhouse was taken aback. Her hands rose to her generous boobs. She fondled her breasts and nipples, marveled at their size and heft. "Oh, but it feels so gooooooood!" The voice grew higher again. "Bart?" Milhouse asked. A giggle was given in answer. "No. I'm Barbie, lover!" She wrapped her legs around his neck and pulled his face into her snatch. Milhouse didn't need any further encouragement. He devoured her pussy as she squealed in delight, tremors of gratification building and building. And then something wonderful happened--she gushed over his face. She was so lost in her erotic gratification that at first she hadn't realized what she had done. It took a few seconds for her mind to clear from orgasm. "Oh my gosh, Milhouse. I'm sorry." A wickedly handsome sneer crossed his face. "Don't be," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He moved up her body and passionately locked lips with her. They stretched out on the couch, side by side, kissing feverishly. Milhouse moved on top of her; she could feel his massive cock against her thighs, hard once again. She wanted it so badly. Yet, she still felt a need to tease him, and kept her legs firmly together. Milhouse grew frustrated and broke off their kissing. She tried to lock lips again but he pushed her back, then he began to tease her, moving the tip of his cock along the seams of her groin where thighs and pussy met. "I want you," he said. She cooed in reply. "I want you, Barbie." She coyly giggled. He then stopped and pulled slightly away, breaking contact. Her eyes popped open. "No, come back." Milhouse smiled, gave an innocent look. "Come back?" She arched her back, her face in a pleading pout. "Tell me what you want." He insisted. "I want... I want...." "Say it." "I want you." she whispered. "Again." "I want you, Milhouse," she said. And then it all flowed out of her. "I want you, Milhouse! I need you, Milhouse. I want that big, strong, hard cock. I need it. Please Milhouse, make me yours. Fuck me! Fuck me HARD!" Her legs parted and wrapped around his waist, pulling him toward her. He bent down and kissed her again. Then, he took his cock and began to rub the tip along her outer labia. Barbie arched her back to give him a better vantage. She cooed, "Please, Milhouse...." She thirsted for what was coming next. He pushed the tip of his cock into her. He wondered if his massive member would fit, but some how he knew it would, and perfectly at that. She was soooooo wet, soooooo hot, sooooo tight. "Be careful," she pleaded. "I'm... I'm... technically a virgin, aren't I?" He pulled out. He hadn't thought of that. "I guess you are." He softly pressed two fingers into that warm welcoming snatch. He explored with gentle motions the firmness and contours of her vagina, and felt what he was certain was an intact hymen. "It's okay," he reassured her. She moaned in answered. He took out the fingers and put them on her lips. Barbie sucked off her juices. "Now fuck me," she said. Milhouse once again pushed his cock inside of her, slowly, met some resistance, pushed past it, till he was buried to the groin in Barbie. "Yes," he growled. He stayed there for a second feeling her firm vagina tighten around his member. Then he began to piston in and out of her, building to a vigorous rhythm, intensifying, everything become more potent, powerful with every stroke. They were lost in the passions of the moment: Milhouse pumping, pumping, pumping; Barbie screaming encouragement. "YES! YES! YES! I NEEDED FUCKING! I NEEDED YOU, MILHOUSE! FUCKING ME! FUCKING ME! FUCKING ME! I'M YOURS! YOURS! OH, YOURS! FOREVER!" Milhouse roared in response. He was no longer the weak nerd tormented by his "best friend" Bart. He was a powerful stud who dominated his girlfriend Barbie. He pulled out of her again, moved her into doggy position. "Beg for it!" he barked. "Beg for your boyfriend Milhouse's cock!" "PLEASE FUCK ME, MILHOUSE! PLEASE FUCK YOUR GIRLFRIEND BARBIE, MILHOUSE!" He pounded home his cock back into her pussy. He loved the smacking sound his groin made when it met her ass. He gave her plump butt an affectionate slap. She yelped her approval. He could feel himself building, building, needing release soon. He pulled out again. He sat down on the couch and moved Barbie into reverse cowgirl position. She immediately grabbed his cock and guided it back to her pussy, bouncing up and down on his lap. "OH, Milhouse this is so perfect, you're so perfect!" He loved watching her juicy ass bounce on his lap. He leaned back and let the pleasure pulse through him. Barbie could feel he was close and needed to bring him to the bursting point. She moved into a more vigorous gear, only to be disappointed when he pulled out, again. "NO! NO! DON'T!" He moved her back onto the couch beneath him, looked her in the eyes. "What do you want? Do you want me to cum on your face or inside of you?" "Inside me. Please, please, please, cum inside me. I need your cum inside me." He needed no further instructions. He grabbed her hips for leverage and pounded home her pussy. It took almost too long to happen, almost past the point of bliss. They built to simultaneous climax, and as he ejaculated, Barbie screamed. Milhouse kept his cock buried in Barbie's pussy till the last of his cum had pumped out. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," she murmured coming down from her orgasm. They were sweaty and dirty and nasty. Milhouse pulled out of her and plopped his cock between Barbie's breasts. She knew exactly what to do--she pressed her luscious breasts around it and sucked him clean. Afterwards, she again wiped all of the cum and juices from her skin sucking her fingers clean. Milhouse three-fingered her pussy and brought out a load of cum; Barbie enthusiastically slurped it down. Milhouse looked down on the gorgeous creature who in another life had tormented him. Things would be different now. He was no longer a loser; he was a winner. He pulled on his shorts and went back into the lab. As far as he could tell, no one had heard them. He went to the outer door, opened it, and looked up and down the hallway. No one. He closed the door and locked it. He went back to his work. It only took him 20 minutes to finish it. He scratched his head thinking that it should have taken him another few hours, but his mind was now working at a higher level. He checked the lab clock, 9:40 PM. The night was still young.... He went back into the break room. Barbie lay on the couch fondling and caressing her body in post-coital bliss. He took her hand and pulled her up. "Come on, get dressed," he said. "Why?" she said with a pout. "I'm taking you back to my room to fuck your brains out." Barbie jumped up newly energized. She slipped on her panties and skirt, stepped into her high heeled shoes, and pulled on her t-shirt. It was clearly too small and cum stained, but it being a Friday night and not far to walk, who would notice? Milhouse took her into his arms and gave her a long passionate kiss. After it, he looked deep into her eyes. "What?" she asked. "Is Bart still in there?" She giggled in a familiar way. "Just a little bit." "Good," Milhouse answered. Milhouse began to fondle Barbie's breasts, tweaked her nipples. "Cause I'm in charge, Bart. And you know it. Barbie knows it. And you're powerless to do anything except receive the ecstasy that I'm going to give Barbie. And you hate how much you love it. Love being Barbie. Love being dominated by ME!" Barbie bit her lower lip and looked deep into Milhouse's eyes before giving him another long, passionate kiss. "Take me home and FUCK ME," she said. He took her by the hand, and they walked out of the lab together. 9 YEARS LATER Milhouse walked home across campus with an assured stride and a huge smile on his face. He had just received the news that he'd been promoted to full professor, the youngest to ever achieve that distinction at Waverly College. It came with a big bonus, and there seemed to be the promise that when Dr. Henries retired in 3-5 years, Milhouse would be promoted to Department Head. His three books were all best sellers. He'd been acclaimed as the great modern popularizer of Archeology, and had become a fixture on NPR and CNN. He loved when they compared him to Indiana Jones. Other universities were keen to hire him away, but Waverly was a distinguished elite liberal arts college where the privileged classes of Springfield, Shelbyville, and environs sent their kids. He like the idea of staying close to home. And he was one of, if not the most, popular professors on campus. Almost too popular--more than a few undergraduates had made explicit overtures at him (his office hours were now all open door with an accompanying teacher's assistant to stand witness). But he had no interest in anyone other than his wife. His house was a 20 minute walk from campus along quaint tree-lined streets. With this new signing bonus, it would soon be paid off. He let himself in through the front door and went upstairs to the master bedroom. Inside the room, Barbie was in front of the full length mirror admiring her baby bump. She'd wanted to get pregnant since the moment she became Barbie, so these last seven months had been a dream come true. Milhouse felt his cock growing hard. Even after all these years together, their passion had never waned. If anything, they were hornier now than on this date nine years ago. Pregnant Barbie had the libido of a nympho squared. He crept up behind her and took his wife into his arms. "Happy Anniversary," he whispered in her ear. She pressed into his embrace with her whole body. "Oh, yes, baby." She turned, and they kissed. He put a hand on her swollen belly. "How is baby Milhouse?" She giggled. "Perfect." He kissed her again and while caressing her breast, even more magnificent now that they were swollen with milk. She pushed him onto the bed, pinned him down. He took her face into his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. "Do you ever miss being...?" She shook her head. "Never. This life is perfect. Sometimes I feel that little shard of him left inside me, straining to be free, disgusted by all of this perfection. He can't stand the pleasure, the sublime bliss you've given me." They kissed again and again and again as they undressed. Milhouse worshiped his wife's body. Milhouse reflected on the past nine years. What if Bart had left him alone when Milhouse had gone to college? Or, what if Bart had only listened before smashing the fetish dolls so that Milhouse could explain that they were ceremonial idols used by an ancient civilization to assimilate captured enemies. A warrior would be granted the strength of the conquered, while the prisoner would become imbued with a feminine essence ideal to their new partner. Milhouse smirked. Did he even know that then, really? Or was it something he only "knew" after it happened? Regardless, it had happened. And Milhouse and Barbie had had a nearly picture-perfect life together. Only Milhouse could remember that Barbie was once Bart. And to be honest, it seemed that no one missed Bart: not his parents, Marge and Homer, not his sisters, Maggie and Lisa. If fact, Lisa was clearly jealous of Barbie's good fortune. Milhouse could see it on her face every time they met. Somehow, even by being Milhouse's first, she had let him slip away. How? Regardless, Milhouse had relished the look of longing Lisa wore as Maid of Honor at Barbie's wedding. But there was only room for one Simpson woman in Milhouse's heart, Barbie. Milhouse looked into wife's eyes and saw her staring at him with an old gaze. Milhouse moved to be on top, never breaking their sight line. "I know you're there, Bart." Her eyes gave a barely perceptible shift. "How does it feel now after nine years?" Those eyes just continued to stare at him. "How does it feel to be in this incredibly sexy, voluptuous body? How does it feel to be mine? To know that I'm in power." He pinched Barbie's nipple, and she gasped. But her eyes still had that gaze. "You lost, Bart. To me, Milhouse; I won. I beat you. And you love it, don't you? As much as that little shard that's left in my wife rages against what's happened 9 years ago, you love it. Love being my bitch. Love the pleasure you get when I fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you. And you squeal in ecstasy every time I do it." He tweaked and pinched both nipples. "Just admit it, Bart. You're Barbie and you love it. Love being pregnant with my 'Milhouse spawn'." He chuckled remembering the slight Bart had once given him. "And you're going to have another one after that. And another one. And another one. You know it's what you want." Milk seeped from her nipples. Milhouse brought a hand down to her clit, began to massage it and her pussy. "You are my beautiful, gorgeous, horny wife, and you can't think of any better life you could have possibly had, right?." "Yes," she whimpered. Milhouse gave her a long passionate kiss. Her eyes were still foreign, glassy with elation. He pushed his hard cock into his wife's pussy--still magically tight even in pregnancy. He slowly slid in and out, building up his rhythm. "Say it, Bart." He said, firmly. "Surrender. You're Barbie now. Barbie. And you know it's true." "Yes," she whimpered again. "Yes, what?" He picked up the rhythm of his fucking. The tremors of orgasm were building perceptibly throughout her body. "I'm... I'm...." Her voice was deeper, trying to sound like a former life. "I'm Bar... Bar...." Milhouse smiled as she tried to pronounce that final "t". He pounder her vigorously. She gasped, and gasped again. "Do you want me to cum? Do you want me to cum inside you, Bart?" "YES!" "Then surrender to me. Surrender to Milhouse!" Milhouse was in complete control and relished this moment almost more than any other he'd experienced these past nine years. "UNGH! UNGH! OH, GOD! OH, GOD! THIS IS SO GOOD! MILHOUSE! MILHOUSE!" "SAY IT, BART! SAY IT!" "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! NOT BART! I AM BARBIE! BARRRRRRBIEEEEEEE!! BARBIE LOVES YOU! FUCK! FUCK! I'M BARBIE! I AM BARBIE! FUCK ME, HARDER MILHOUSE! FUCK ME, HARDER! I LOVE YOU, MILHOUSE! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE, PLEASE PLEASE CUM IN MY PUSSY! BARBIE'S PUSSY! I'M BARBIE! I'M BARBIE! CUM IN MY PUSSY! CUM IN YOUR WIFE'S HOT JUICY PUSSY! I AM BARRRRRRBIEEEEEEE! I LOVE BEING BARBIE! FUCK! FUCK! GOD, MILHOUSE, GOD! CUM IN YOUR WIFE BARBIE'S PUSSY! NOW AND FOREVER I AM BARBIE! BARBIE! BARBIE FOREVER MORE! I'M YOURS FOREVER! BARBIE IS YOURS FOREVER! FUCK! FOREVER! BARBIE FOREVER! FOREVER! FOREVERRRRRRRRRRR!!!" Milhouse blew his load as his wife shrieked euphorically. "Oh baby, thank you, thank you, thank you," she murmured. Milhouse kissed her again passionately, looked deep into her eyes--only Barbie was there. "Is...? Are you...?" She giggled. "I love you, Milhouse." She kissed him. "My God, that orgasm shattered me." Milhouse couldn't explain it, but she was more purely Barbie now than she had ever been these past nine years. He knew he'd seen the last of him.... "I've got so many more delightfully nasty thoughts to act out with my husband," she said. This time it was she who kissed him passionately. "Ah!" she gasped, drawing his hands to her belly. "Milhouse spawn is kicking!" she said with absolute, undeniable delight. Milhouse smiled, felt his child kicking inside his wife. He tenderly kissed Barbie's inverted belly button. Now and forever more, everything was coming up Milhouse.