tagSci-Fi & FantasySpit-Take Ch. 02

Spit-Take Ch. 02

byGeauxMama©

Debbie always woke up slowly, and in that one narrow, specific sense, this day was no exception. For the first thirty seconds or so, she really just laid there and savored the delightful sensations of half-asleepness. She had just started the full body stretch that would really begin her day when some recollection of the events of the previous night started flooding back to her.

"Holy shit," she thought, "what the fuck did I do last night?" All at once - in a millisecond - a couple dozen bits and pieces of the passionate lovemaking session she had shared with Alex the night before came flashing back to her. Debbie spent a short moment reviewing the literally incredible events she thought she recalled, but she struggled to make sense of the more ... out of the ordinary things those memories included. "Damn, I didn't drink that much wine, did I?" she thought. Her head ached and her muscles and joints felt sore - especially in her lower back - so she decided she must indeed be hungover, and recalled with a quick laugh some of the crazy times she had blacked out back at Podunk State. She figured the booze had to be impairing her recollection, and decided to take a quick inventory of her surroundings in order to start sorting out the fictions from the reality.

She was definitely alone, and definitely in a bed, in what sure seemed to be a guest room so, she figured, she must definitely have spent the night at Alex's house. And, she definitely had no panties on. Pretty sure she hadn't intended to arrive at her boss's house commando style last night, she figured that had to be a pretty solid clue. Pulling back the covers confirmed that she was indeed bottomless, but she also noticed she was still wearing her shirt and her bra. This strange combination of clothed and unclothed led her to a little further reconsideration of what her foggy memory was telling her had gone on between her and her boss last night. "God, how fucked up is that," she thought calmly, "no way that really happened." Sitting up in bed, she first noticed a clock reading 7:13 and then saw a handwritten note on the bedside table. It read:

Mornin' sleepyhead! Had to make a 7am bkfst mtg, knew you'd need some rest & so didn't want to wake you. Last night was wonderful, hope you know that. I'll be in the office by 9:30, come see me when you get in - we'll talk.

Hugs, A.

"Well, I guess at least part of it really happened," she thought. Between her memories, and the note, and her missing underwear Debbie figured the parts about getting it on with Alex last night had to have been accurate, but there was no way she had the details right. Just because some parts of her memories were accurate didn't mean they all were. Seriously, some of those details were like scenes from a bad science fiction movie. Still though, Debbie thought, it was weird how she specifically remembered getting fucked - not just as in 'had sex with,' or 'girlfucked,' but literally getting fucked - very thoroughly fucked, as a matter of fact, by a pretty big dick. Guess Alex must have had a strap-on or something, but for some reason that still didn't seem right.

Debbie was just about fully awake by now, and as she put down the note she realized her body was telling her it was quite time to get to the bathroom and get rid of some used wine. She stood herself up on slightly aching legs, did the best she could to pull her shirt-tails around her perfectly curved hips and walked out into the hallway. The house was a rambler, and as she exited the guest room Debbie noticed she had a view down the hall back towards the living room. "Looks like we did polish off at least the one bottle," she thought, glimpsing the dead soldier on the coffee table.

Once in the bathroom, being naked from the waist down meant all she had to do was lift the lid, and the instant Debbie's butt hit the seat a veritable torrent of piss started streaming out of her. "Ohh-h-h-h shit," she thought to herself, "fuck yeah that feels good." Actually, after a couple of seconds it occurred to her that in fact, it felt fucking great. Not only in the 'oh thank God, I really had to piss like a racehorse' sense but also, she realized with a bit of concern, in a sexual sense.

Not quite like it would be enough to make herself come or anything, but the longer she pissed the harder it was to deny - she was unmistakably getting a real sexual charge out of taking her morning piss. She shuddered lightly as the firehose flow finally wound down to a small deluge and then stopped completely, and she shuddered again - harder - when she decided against using the paper and cleaned herself quickly with her bare fingers. Well, it was mostly like cleaning herself, at least in the sense that she licked her fingers clean when she was done. As she came down off the spike of eroticism she felt from this twisted act, she thought to herself, "God, how weird is that? Since when have I been into watersports?"

For the first time that morning, a sense of genuine anxiety popped up in her brain, but it passed soon enough. Think about it, she figured, she had never tried girls before Becka and that turned out to be awesome. Why get so surprised by enjoying a little pissplay just because she never tried it before either? On one level Debbie was kind of impressed with herself that she wasn't getting freaked out about it, but deep down inside she still couldn't shake a tiny little sense that there really was something very, very odd about this.

She flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and after splashing some cold water on her face she took a good long look in the mirror. Seeing herself looking no worse for wear helped her mental state considerably, and she quickly thought to herself, "Hey, I came to LA for new experiences, right? Fucking your boss sure is a new experience." The thought made her chuckle, as did the next thought that it was only the fact that Alex was her boss that made the night remarkable, as if having sex with a woman - and getting penetrated, deep, by a woman - was just old hat now. "What a sophisticated connoisseur of deviant sex I am!" she laughed to herself. Satisfied that she was able to keep her sense of humor about herself, her spirits had brightened considerably as she walked back out to the living room.

"And, this certainly settles that little mystery," she thought, after finding her pants laying right out on the floor with her thong kind of wadded up inside them, just next to Alex's beige silk top. Debbie thrilled briefly, as she crouched down to run her hand across the silk, at the memory of Alex's nipples commanding her attention as they pressed proudly against that top. Next she picked her thong out from inside the pants, and gently rubbed the crotch between her thumb and forefinger. Having confirmed that she really did have sex with her boss, she allowed herself to enjoy another quick flash of sexheat over the fact that her thong was still a bit damp. Yeah, Debbie definitely remembered creaming like crazy, but what exactly did they do to each other?

She got up and started trying in earnest to work through some hazy, hot memories of the prior night as she walked towards the kitchen, but she didn't get very far before the sluttiness of the whole situation really caught up with her. The realization that she was walking around her boss's living room, naked from the waist down, fingering the wet crotch of the panties which she vaguely remembered soaking with cum the night before - it all just fanned the sexual embers that had been sparked minutes ago in the bathroom into something more like a full flame.

She quickly thought to herself, "Damn, what is up with me this morning? It's like everything I do turns me on!" Like smoke in the wind, thought, those thoughts quickly slipped away into nothingness, and her arousal grew steadily as she remembered passionately kissing Alex and sucking those perfect breasts. Gulping down a big glass of water and glancing at the kitchen clock, she decided she had plenty of time to give in to all these temptations and get a little more comfortable.

Ok, a lot more comfortable. After unbuttoning her shirt and sliding it off her arms, Debbie enjoyed a short private laugh about a being a Girl Gone Really Wild as she caressed herself through the delicate cups of her bra, and thought about how slutty it was to be getting ready to go masturbate in her boss' living room. She was heading back over to go sit on the couch when she noticed the big wet spot in the middle, and more details came flooding back to her.

"Oh my God, look at all that cum!" she thought. She kneeled down in front of the couch and ran the fingertips of her left hand gently over the wet stain on the leather. "Yeah that's right, she had me laying on my back right here and pulling my knees real wide - oh shit, that was really hot." Debbie was getting more and more into it now, her right hand working steadily between her legs. "And those tits! They felt so good in my mouth - her nipples just got so hard and tight under my tongue and, wait, was she lactating?"

Debbie tore her right hand away from her body long enough to reach over and pick up Alex's top. She sat now, on the carpet leaning back against the front of the couch and examined the silk more closely. "She must have been, look," she thought, having found a couple dried-out spots on the top right where Alex's nipples had been. She paused for a half-second before taking one crusty part of the silk into her mouth and sucking gently. "Yeah, I really was swallowing something, wasn't I, as I sucked her and it was all just turning me on so much and I was so wet when she fucked me with that huge cock." That part of the memory was still weird, but now in her heat Debbie just found the thought wildly bizarre. "Oh, and she was so big, God, that was delicious when she stretched me with those deep penetrations, and filled me so good as she implanted me nice and deep."

Debbie's eyes jolted open as her next thoughts raced across the surface of her arousal like electrified water striders: "Implanted? Wait a minute, 'implanted me'? IMPLANTED? What the hell does that mean? And this 'Turning' thing – didn't she say something about Turning? Stop for a second, hold it, this isn't right. How could I be getting off on this, this isn't hot, this is wrong. Really wrong! Something really bad happened last night, I need to get a hold of myself and get some help—"

I'M MAKING IT UP.

Debbie's brain paused for a second, confused. "What? What was ...?" she thought. Everyone occasionally has thoughts that spring to mind unbidden, but this wasn't like that. This wasn't just a subconscious thought bubble rising to the surface that could be heeded or disregarded at will; this was more like a loudspeaker of realization filling her mind with truth. "That does make more sense," she thought a moment later, "of course I'm making it up - how could any of this be real?"

I'M MAKING IT UP, BECAUSE IT TURNS ME ON.

"Yeah, that last part sure is true," Debbie admitted. "Imagine, I just laid there all hot and dopey and wet and let her drive that big cock so deep." She rolled back up onto her knees, buried her face right in the middle of the wet spot, and took several deep, long breaths through her nose. The smell and the sensation of the wet leather against her face was heavenly. The heat was hanging on her again in full force, but Debbie's brain was still stuck trying to come to grips with it all.

"But that part about Turning – what was it she said about 'biological changes'? Shit, that's right, it wasn't a strap-on, it was real!! It was a cock - I could tell when she made me suck it! She actually had a real cock - or wait, what did she say? She called it something else, an ... OVIPOSITOR?" It could have been terror, it could have been something else, but every nerve in her body was standing on end now. She was crying, just barely, as she sat up while the battle in her mind raged. "Oh God, stop yourself, Debbie, RIGHT NOW and go call somebody!!! This is really fucking weir—"

IT TURNS ME ON TO THINK ABOUT THE TURNING.

A new wave of electric heat surged up her spine and into her head as she thought, "Oh my God that's it! I'm Turning, aren't I?" Whether the sensations wracking her body came from terror or lust made no difference anymore - there may not have been a difference for Debbie as any thoughts of going for help just melted away in the heat of her passion. She leaned forward again to smear her face across the wetness on the couch and lave her tongue along the parts of the stain where the taste was strongest. "Alex planted an egg inside me last night when she fucked me. It's been growing inside me and bonding with me all night and now I'm Turning into some kind of alien sex-predator with a dick growing out of my pussy and with ... venom in my tits."

Feverishly, she reached her left hand behind her to pop open her bra and slide it off her arms. She slid herself back to rest her forehead on the edge of the couch so she could look pridefully at her own perfect tits, twin embodiments of her overpowering sexuality, hanging loosely beneath her. She used her left hand to rub them gently and feel their soft weight, imagining the glands inside them changing and filling them with drugged ambrosia. She ran a fingertip across her left nipple and swore she could feel it already oozing alien milk. She spread her fingers to cup her breast firmly and, arching her back, brought her nipple to her lips.

The sensation that shot through her when she sucked it hard into her mouth wasn't a twinge, or a thrill, or even a spark, it was a category five storm-surge of wantonness and sex. She moaned loudly when the sensation hit, and the force of it shot through her like a lightning bolt. There was a taste in her mouth now, maybe just the skin of her tit, maybe not, but it drove Debbie's passion even higher. While her left hand and mouth moved over to torment her other breast, she folded her thumb into her right hand, formed her fingers into a cone, and pushed about two-thirds of her hand hard up inside her. Her pussy wasn't just hot, it was downright thermonuclear. "Oh sh-shit," Debbie said out loud reflexively, as her right nipple fell from her lips. Her thoughts, like her slit, then turned to soup and in seconds she was gripped in the maw of a rapid fire chain of heavy orgasms.

She gave herself several minutes to savor the afterglow and the strong, spicy taste of the fingers that had been buried so deep inside her, so close to her core, and then stretched herself out on the couch to do it all again with a little more leisure.

* * *

It was just after ten by the time Debbie made it to the office, and although she looked reasonably put together on the outside, she was a tangle of confusion and conflict on the inside. How she had managed to get back to her apartment, shower, and get herself in to work without having her head explode was beyond her. "I'm either the biggest pervert on the face of the earth," she thought, "or I am literally going insane."

"I have to be making it up, " she mused, as if that explained why she would make up a story like that and even so, why it would turn her on so much. She sure didn't make up most of it: she had sex with her boss last night, slept over at her house, and then instead of getting the hell out of there she spent the early part of the morning making herself come in her boss's living room. WTF??? Plus, even if she did try to tell someone, what would she say? What would they think? Could she really expect the cops or a doctor or something to take her at all seriously? What about Becka? Becka would just think she's nuts, and she'd probably be right.

Debbie decided she wouldn't do anything drastic before she saw Alex again - maybe if they met face-to-face she'd be able to tell if there was anything really going on, or whether she was just exploring the far outer reaches of her recently-discovered sexuality.

"Hi Maggie," Debbie said nervously to Alex's assistant as she walked up to Alex's office. "Is she in?"

"She sure is," Maggie replied cheerily, "and she's expecting you. Just a sec." As Maggie got up to open the door, Debbie took a moment to admire Maggie's long, smooth legs under a skirt that was surprisingly short and casual for the office. In fact, Debbie noticed, Maggie had gym shoes on.

"Excuse me Alex, Debbie's here," Maggie said into the open door. "Oh great," Debbie heard Alex reply, "Send her in. And have fun - you're back when, early afternoon or so?"

Maggie answered, "Yep, see you then," and stepped aside to show Debbie into Alex's office.

"Hitting the gym today?" Debbie asked, forcing herself to try and converse as though somehow everything was normal.

"Kind of," Maggie replied. "I've got a workout scheduled with a new instructor at ten-thirty. See ya Deb!" And with that, Maggie picked up her gym bag and was off. To which Debbie wouldn't have given much further thought - especially under the circumstances - had she not noticed the tennis racket in Maggie's bag, and the strangely meaningful smile on Maggie's face as she stepped past Debbie and walked away.

Debbie felt a shiver run through her whole body from head to toe as she stared at Maggie's racket. "Yeah, uh, see ya, Maggie," she said softly. Then she turned, haltingly, and all but staggered into Alex's office.

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