Chapter 2

The next morning, I woke up with my head still spinning from the chaos of the past few days. My cock was still swollen, still unnaturally massive under the covers, a constant fucking reminder of whatever that wasp sting had done to me. I couldn’t keep ignoring this—it wasn’t just about the insane sexual encounters with Mandy, Jess, Lisa, Emily, or the unbearable tension with Mom. My body was out of control, and I needed answers. It was time to see a doctor, even if the thought of explaining this shit made my stomach churn with embarrassment. No way was I asking Mom for help; I couldn’t face her after last night’s near-breaking point. So, I looked up the nearest clinic on my phone, a small walk-in place a couple of miles away, and decided to bike there.

The ride over was tense, my sweatpants barely hiding the bulge as I pedaled through the quiet suburban streets, the morning air doing little to cool the heat still simmering in my veins. I locked my bike outside the clinic, a nondescript building with a faded sign, and stepped into the lobby, the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting me as I signed in at the front desk. I sat down in one of the stiff plastic chairs, trying to keep my head low, my hands clasped over my lap to hide the obvious problem in my pants. The waiting room was mostly empty, just a couple of older folks flipping through magazines, and I was starting to zone out, nervously rehearsing how I’d explain this without sounding like a total perv, when a loud squeal snapped me out of it.

I turned my head just in time to see Emily—petite, huge tits bouncing in a tight sweater—leaping toward me from across the room. Before I could react, she threw herself into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist as she kissed me full-on, her tongue shoving into my mouth with desperate, sloppy hunger. My cock twitched hard, instantly reacting to her warmth, her curves pressed against me, and for a moment, I forgot where the fuck I was, kissing her back as her hands clutched at my shoulders. The sound of a throat clearing nearby jolted me back to reality, and I pulled away, breathless, setting her down as my face burned. “Emily, what the hell are you doing here?” I stammered, glancing around to see if anyone was staring. A few eyes were on us, but I didn’t care as much as I should’ve.

She grinned, her cheeks flushed, adjusting her sweater that had ridden up to show a sliver of stomach. “Mom brought me for a checkup ... and to get on birth control,” she said, her voice dripping with implication, her eyes locked on mine like she was daring me to do something right there. Before I could respond, a sultry voice purred from behind me, making me jump. “Hi, Chris.” I turned to see Lisa, her massive tits straining against a low-cut blouse, her hips cocked as she smiled at me, no trace of guilt or regret in her expression—just raw, unfiltered desire. My throat went dry, that unnatural pull flaring again as she stepped closer, her hand brushing my arm. “Fancy running into you here,” she teased, her tone making it clear she wasn’t surprised at all.

They flanked me, Emily on one side, Lisa on the other, their bodies way too close for a public waiting room, their flirty giggles and lingering touches drawing curious glances from the other patients. Emily leaned in, whispering, “Missed you since yesterday,” while Lisa’s fingers trailed down my back, her breath hot against my ear as she murmured, “You’ve been on our minds.” My cock was rock-hard now, painfully obvious even through my loose pants, and I shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep some shred of composure. “What about your husband?” I managed to ask, my voice low, half-expecting some kind of shame to cross Lisa’s face.

She just laughed softly, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, he doesn’t suspect a thing. Don’t worry about him.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, no hint of remorse, and Emily giggled, pressing herself against my side, her tits squishing against my arm. The air around us crackled with that same fucked-up energy I’d felt every time a woman got near me since the sting, and I knew if I didn’t get called in soon, I might do something stupid right here in the lobby. I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on why I was here—to get help, to figure out what the fuck was wrong with me—not to fall into another spiral of lust with this mom and daughter duo who clearly had no intention of letting me go.

Just as I was starting to sweat under the weight of Emily and Lisa’s relentless flirting in the clinic lobby, a nurse called my name, her voice cutting through the haze of lust clouding my brain. “Chris, the doctor will see you now.” I muttered a quick excuse to the mom and daughter duo, peeling myself away from their lingering touches, and followed the nurse down a sterile hallway, my heart pounding for reasons beyond just nerves. My cock was still hard, still swollen to twice its normal size, and I adjusted my sweatpants awkwardly as I stepped into the small examination room.

The door clicked shut behind me, and I turned to face the doctor, my jaw nearly dropping. She was stunning, a woman of Middle Eastern descent who looked like she belonged in a Bollywood movie, not a drab local clinic. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes were framed by thick lashes, her full lips painted a subtle red, and her long, glossy black hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Her white coat did little to hide her curves, the fabric stretching over her ample chest and hips as she smiled warmly, extending a hand. “I’m Dr. Aisha Khan. What seems to be the problem, Chris?” Her voice was smooth, accented just enough to make my already fucked-up hormones spike, and I shook her hand, trying to focus on why I was here.

I sat on the exam table, the paper crinkling under me, and stumbled through an explanation, my face burning with embarrassment. “Uh, I got stung by a wasp ... down there, a few days ago. Since then, it’s, uh, swollen—way bigger than normal—and it won’t go down. Plus, I’ve got this weird ... energy, I guess. And women around me, they’ve been acting ... different, like they’re drawn to me or something.” I left out the explicit details—the marathon sex with Mandy, the forbidden encounters with Jess, the depravity with Lisa and Emily—but I could tell from the way her eyes flicked over me, lingering just a second too long, that she sensed more than I was saying.

Dr. Khan nodded professionally, jotting notes on a clipboard, her expression unreadable. “Interesting. Let’s start with some standard tests.” She moved with clinical efficiency, taking my vitals—height, weight, blood pressure—then drawing a blood sample, wiping a sweat sample from my forehead, and doing a cheek swab. Her touch was light but firm, her fingers brushing my skin just enough to make my cock twitch harder under my pants. “I’ll need to examine the affected area. Please change into this gown while I step out,” she said, handing me a thin hospital gown and exiting the room with a polite nod.

As I stripped down, tying the flimsy gown around me, a fleeting thought crossed my mind—maybe this would stay professional. Maybe she was immune to whatever fucked-up pheromones or testosterone surge I was putting out. But deep down, I knew better. The moment she returned, her eyes locked on the obscene bulge tenting the gown, and her professional demeanor faltered, her breath hitching just slightly. “Let’s take a look,” she murmured, stepping close, her hands gloved as she lifted the gown. My massive cock sprang free, throbbing, precum beading at the tip, and her gaze darkened, her lips parting. “This is ... quite unusual,” she said, her voice lower now, and before I could brace myself, she sank to her knees, her gloves discarded, her warm, soft hands wrapping around my shaft.

“Dr. Khan, what—” I started, but the words died in my throat as her full lips closed around the head of my cock, sucking hard, her tongue swirling with a skill that made my knees buckle. I groaned, my hands gripping the edge of the table, as she bobbed her head, taking me deeper, her throat tight and wet. It was un-fucking-real, the sight of this gorgeous doctor on her knees, her white coat still on while she blew me like a pro. The pressure built fast, too fast, and I grunted, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” just before I exploded, thick ropes of cum shooting down her throat. She didn’t pull back, swallowing every drop, her eyes half-lidded with lust as she finally released me with a wet pop.

“I ... forgot to collect a sperm sample for testing,” she said, her voice husky, a flimsy excuse as she stood, unbuttoning her coat and blouse to reveal her massive, perfect tits, dark nipples hard as diamonds. She grabbed a sterile cup from the counter, then knelt again, pressing her breasts together around my still-hard cock. “Let’s get that sample now,” she purred, tit-fucking me with slow, deliberate strokes, her soft, warm flesh enveloping me completely. I groaned, thrusting into the tight valley of her cleavage, the sight of her Bollywood-beautiful face looking up at me pushing me over the edge again. I came hard, blasting my second load into the cup she held ready, filling it with more cum than I thought possible.

She set the cup aside, still topless, her tits heaving as she bent over her desk to scribble something on a form, her round ass pushing out toward me under her tight slacks. My control snapped. I stepped behind her, my hands yanking her pants and panties down in one rough motion, exposing her glistening pussy. “Chris, wait, we shouldn’t—” she started, a weak protest, but I cut her off, my voice rough with need. “It’ll help with research, right? You need to know everything.” That was all the excuse she needed, her resistance crumbling as she moaned softly, pushing back against me. I thrust into her hard, her tight cunt gripping me like a vice, and fucked her over the desk, her papers scattering as I pounded into her, her gasps and cries echoing in the small room. I didn’t last long, unloading deep inside her with a guttural groan, my body trembling from the release.

As I pulled out, adjusting the gown around me, she straightened up, still flushed and breathless, pulling her clothes back on with shaky hands. “Come back in a week for the test results, Chris,” she said, her voice professional again but with a lingering heat in her dark eyes. “We’ll ... discuss this further.” I nodded, muttering a thanks, and left the room, my mind a fucking mess as I stepped back into the hallway, the weight of yet another encounter pressing down on me. Whatever was happening to me, it wasn’t slowing down, and I wasn’t sure if even a doctor could help me now.

Biking home from the clinic, my mind was a fucking whirlwind, the encounter with Dr. Khan still burning through my veins. My cock, still swollen and aching in my sweatpants, was a constant reminder of the chaos that had taken over my life since that damn wasp sting. The doctor had taken samples, promised results in a week, but could I even hold out that long? What if there were no answers, or worse, no fix? I pedaled harder, the cool air doing little to calm the heat in my body as I wrestled with the bigger questions weighing on me—Jess and Mom. Could I resist them for a whole week, or longer, with this uncontrollable pull driving me and everyone around me insane?

Jess ... fuck, would she be content with just blowjobs forever? Would I? Every time she got near me, that line I’d drawn felt flimsier, the temptation to go further clawing at my restraint. And Mom—her passive flirtations, the way she’d been dressing skimpier, calling me the “man of the house” with that loaded tone—was she going to pressure me into something more? Or was it just in my head, my fucked-up desires projecting onto her? I didn’t know, but the uncertainty gnawed at me, each thought tightening the knot in my chest. By the time I reached our street, though, I’d started to piece together a plan, a fragile grip on control. Blowjobs only with Jess—no further, no matter how much I wanted it. Mom seemed passive enough; if I didn’t push, she wouldn’t either, right? And if things got really bad, if the need became unbearable, there was always Mandy across the street, or Emily and Lisa down the block. Outlets, distractions, whatever I needed to keep from crossing the worst lines. “I can do this,” I told myself, repeating it like a mantra as I locked my bike by the porch and took a deep breath, feeling like I finally had a handle on things.