I was awake. It would have to be now. I'd be thinking it, planning it, and I had to move. I couldn't let things stand. But it wasn't so easy: I couldn't just jump out of bed - not with all of them. So I began to slowly extricate myself from the tangle of womanly limbs.
So sleek, so soft ... NO! NO!! I wouldn't think about how gorgeous they all were. That way would cause me to surrender, and continue to wallow in the soft, deceptive delight of their luscious flesh. I moved, and a platinum blond hottie murmured in her sleep. She could have worked for any porno magazine in the world, with that porcelein face, and impossible curves. It was the same with all of them.
Scattered around my bed and floor they slumbered. Eight of them. Naked, beautiful, their womanly charms enough to make a man gasp in delight. And they were mine. They loved me, craved me, would break laws for me. And fuck me anywhere, anytime, on my terms.
And I had to escape from them.
Tiptoeing across and through the scattered hips, legs, flowing manes of hair in a rainbow of colors. More feminine pulchritude than the sleasiest music video. All mine.
I had to escape from them.
Soon, I had made it out to the bathroom when - the door opened! She emerged. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had silky black hair like midnight ink. Her bronzed skin so soft, so perfect - her body such a feast of sensual delights, that sometimes I didn't know whether to kiss her or eat her. The strange thing was that, though she'd been sleeping for hours, her hair and face still looked as perfect as though my bathroom was a world-class beauty salon.
"3 a.m. quickie, Master?" She asked. "I know how horny you can get after sleeping a few hours. And I'm ready to please..." she purred. Weeks ago, that was the first sign of trouble - the face that these women insisted on calling me 'Master', that was the first clue that this was something weird - unnatural.
"Er ... just go back to bed." I ordered my paramour.
"You sure Master?" Her delicate hands reached down to encircle...
My Cock! It was larger yet! I had decided to myself, after the changes began that ten-inches was too much. If my manhood began to grow that large, then I would know that this erotic scherade would have to end! But now ... now my shaft was at least eleven inches long, and scarcely thinner around than a beer can. My balls were heavier too, and the sensation within them was as intense as fire.
"Eh ... er ... not-not yet ... just go back to sleep ... I'll really give you what's coming tomorrow!" She released a throaty moan of delight and turned to rub the shapely curves of her ass cheeks against my pulsing, raging penis. I quickly ducked into my bathroom.
That could ruin everything. These girls, their hunger for my body, my cock was so intense, that she might not fall asleep for hours, anticipating the fucking I was supposed to give her. The sex that I dared not give her, not anymore. Not any of them.
If they knew, if they knew how truly horny I was, none of them would take no for an answer, and I could not hope to escape. It took only a few strokes once I was inside. I held my breath to try and stifle my grunt of orgasmic delight as my dick blasted an inhuman load of sperm that I wasted into the sink. It was the only way. And the pattern was confirmed. The sperm that I could produce per-orgasm was also greater than before- In seconds, I had blasted enough spunk down the drain to impregnate a whole cheerleading squad.
I panted ... hoping ... praying ... Yes! For the first time all night, my penis finally went partially limp. It was possible for me to be normal ... for a while ... to move around in public ... for awhile. I had hidden some street clothes, some sweat pants under the sink in preparation. And I studied myself in the mirror. Barely thirty, frizzy brownish-gray hair, the signs of premature balding apparent. Not fat, not really lean, nothing that would turn eyes or heads. Except with my girls. They craved me, hungered for me, would do anything for -
"NO! I won't think about that anymore! Won't think about the hours ... days of mind-blowing sex! I made my decision once my cock had reached ten-inches!" It was ending now, ending tonight. I had to go back to a normal life. A real life, that meant real women.
The screeching of car tires was what woke the house. As I sped away I could see them running naked in the street, shouting in outrage, fear, shock, horror as I sped away. I could see my gorgeous women, pulling out their hair, pleading, whining, begging. My cell rang. I recognized the number, and turned it off. A man must do what a man must do.
I came down from the cloud of ecstasy only reluctantly, to find that Roselyn had left the bed, and was regarding me with anger.
"It's true! What my girlfriends always warned me about - men only care about sex!" My former girlfriend expressed in outrage. "All we are is meat to you!"
"Roselyn, it's not that - but it's..."
"I enjoyed it at first James, ... I mean, what woman doesn't want eight hours of non-stop sex but ... but there's more to life than this!" The sad thing was, I wasn't finished yet. I had given up the harem I had back at my apartment. I had to, I realized. But my cock ... my hunger for women was so overwhelming that I had to do whatever was necessary for some female action. I had called up an old ex and begged, cajoled her. Making promises I might regret later. But she'd taken me back - temporarily.
But I realized that things had already gone too far. My libido had already increased beyond ... beyond anything human. As I gripped my raging, rigid cock, I wondered if a woman would ever trust me again. Ever since the first time I'd fucked one of the unnatural, impossible women back at my apartment, the drives, the lusts had been growing steadily greater.
As it stood now, I had this ... this instinct inside me, commanding me to fuck anything female, as often as possible. There was this unthinking impulse to spread my seed without limit or discretion. I began to grunt...
" ... because I am a PERSON with feelings!" Roselyn had droning on about ... er ... something or other. I had spent hours fucking her, but it wasn't enough. "You can't just go around treating women like your sex-toys! I've heard about these ... these new women ... James, these weird nymphos running around, but I don't care! I deserve respect! I deserve more than just yourrr - ahhh!"
The impulse had taken over, and I had grabbed Roselyn, burying my face in her warm crotch, nuzzling her clit. My animal cravings temporarily overwhelming my good sense.
Spread your seed...
A voice seemed to call out to me. But it was definitely not Roselyn's. She slapped me hard, threw my clothes at me and demanded I leave. I had violated some invisible rule of womanhood that I neither knew of, nor could understand. And I thought women hated it when a man went limp within minutes. Here, she had a man that was still rigid after a whole night of pussy-pounding.
It wasn't just the hallway of Roselyn's apartment complex I was in; it was a sort of No-Man's land or ... no Woman's Land. My harem ... I had rejected them ... no choice ... my real human ex-girlfriend ... she either couldn't forgive me for violating some inscrutable tenet known only in her own mind, or ... couldn't handle my explosive, male potency. I can't have a real human female, and I had turned my back on my own personal harem. I had to change - reinvent myself ... find a way to get back to the man I was. Find a way to control these new urges.
It had always been a hobby of my dad's. He'd saved up for years to get the boat, he would go on about the purity of the ocean, man vs. nature, and crap like that. It was difficult to say why I decided to go down to the pier now and take a look at it. Maybe a short little jaunt would no me some good. Just for a weekend or two, to get my head together, get a plan and work out a way to control my super-libido.
It had fallen to me in Dad's will, although lately I had been starting to wonder about upkeep on the thing; I hadn't been taking care of it, began to wonder if it was still sea-worthy, and decided to check it out; not really knowing what I'd find.
In retrospect, I should have expected it. But she took me by surprise; despite the months I'd spent surrounded by supermodel beauty queens, variety as they say, is the spice of life.
Gleaming gold-blonde hair down to her shoulder- blades. Perfect valley-girl tan, (no lines) taut, sleek muscles of a fitness porno- goddess. She turned to smile at me, her face was an exotic, multi-ethnic blend of rapper's girlfriend lips, high-cheekbones, sultry asian ... er maybe hispanic eyes. To me, her appearance seemed almost ... calculated. The best features from many races; she was nothing if not internationally fuckable.
And there were Mops, buckets, and soapy rags were scattered around the boat I inherited from my dad, - S.S. No-Man's Land. She was cleaning it, maintaining it. That was how you could spot them. A woman this gorgeous, working a sub-par day-laborer job? If she were real, if she were human, she'd be on a runway in Paris now.
"Hey tough guy, this is your boat, isn't it?" she purred. I rolled my eyes.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh well, it's just that the Marina pays me ... er ... enough to maintain and clean all of these boats every day." She all but admitted it. You learned how to spot them pretty quickly. "I'm also on the lookout ... for hot guys..." She squeezed a soapy sponge down the front of her white ultra-skimpy tank-top. The wetness penetrated to cast her obviously erect nipples in stark relief. She sauntered towards me.
.... There is more of this story ...