Three Hundred Million

"Wait....no, no, no...I'm going to far, my ideas are too extreme. I've got to take time out and listen to myself. What if this is just my imagination; what it really is just my problem. I am having these incredible nightmares, could there be something else wrong with me? Maybe that picture I took really was just some horrible glitch of the lighting. Well, Jace helped set me up with an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow. Maybe...*YAWN* maybe that would help...*YAWN* Couldn't hurt, I hope...

**********

There should have been a second wave. Reports on the few remaining radio-stations assured the public that several governments were coordinating for a nuclear counter-strike against the Invaders. They said they had new tactics this time, they tried to bolster our flagging hopes.

But I was running through the empty streets, past the abandoned cars, struggling to escape the fate that had befallen so many others. There had been no second strike. No one was sure what happened. Washington hadn't been destroyed, that was clear. But somehow, all the politicians simply...gave up. Orders were given through secure channels for the military to stand down, and then they stopped giving orders altogether. There were reports of similar incidents in Beijing, Moscow, London, Tokyo, and a few other world powers. Orders for the army to just stand down, and disband. Was it fear? That must have been the answer. Maybe they were trying to preserve their lives and power for future resistance? No one knew for sure, only that the aliens were bringing in more ships every day.

These were new kinds of ships; smaller and faster than the ponderous floating fortresses that had paralyzed every major metropolitan area with their pink pleasure rays. They were like jet fighters, almost. Fast fliers with flat, glowing panels on the bottom. Two kinds, one ship with blue-glowing panels, and another class with a pink glow. The pink ones would sweep the crowd, and through some miracle of physics, fleeing human beings would be yanked upwards and magnetized to the bottoms of the ships. Only men. That was impossible. (Impossible in the way humans understand the cosmos.) Electromagnetism didn't have a sexual component. Yet for these aliens, it could. A mixed group of males and females would contain only females after the passage of a pink ship. Their men would be clinging helplessly to the underside, to be taken up into a pulsating opening in the floating fortress above. And the blue ships, they caught up only women and left behind the men. And the sexes were separated and conveyed into pulsating hangers on opposite ends of the mothership.

I didn't know what else to do but run...just run and keep on running. And I tried to, I tried until the fortress-ship began to shine brighter, and there was a hum in the air as the alien behemoth gathered up otherworldly energies for a deathblow to human civilization.

And when I saw the tower, that was the moment when all hope at last fled from me. An impossible structure dozens of times taller than the highest skyscraper... it was descending from the clouds, through some conveyance that defied human understanding of gravity. Amber and yellow and needle-like off in the distance. The extraterrestrial object slammed down, embedding itself in the earth as pink lights began to glow from within. They were setting up some kind of permanent base-camp. And it was probably like this all over the world. I knew at that moment that the human race had failed.

And the pulse hit. A white flash from the fortress-ship that swept over the entire city, and it struck me like a tsunami. I lay on the ground, spasming and writhing. The pleasure so extreme as to be frightening. It was like gorging on something far too sweet, the stimulation is overwhelming to your senses. I could only laugh and cry all at once, as my hips thrashed with spontaneous orgasms wasted inside my blue jeans. I couldn't say how long it lasted; the Bliss wave eliminated all sense of time. It was such an impossibly joyous experience that I seemed to lose all awareness of my own body -- the pleasure was all. My last coherent thought was an understanding of humanity's downfall: These aliens did not fight with guns and bombs and pain and death. They conquered through pleasure. There was no will to resist them.

**********

"Don't be blond don't be blond don't be blond..." I chanted to myself as I took the elevator alone to the office of Dr. Lucinda Cox, licensed psychiatrist and psychotherapist. What if the aliens had infiltrated academia as well? "Don'tbeblonddon'tbeblonddon'tbeblond..." If she were another gorgeous nordic that matched my deepest sexual fantasies, I would just run. If not, then perhaps I did need help. I'd slept in my car that night, not intentionally, I'd just nodded off after convincing myself not to masturbate. And the dreams had come again, so intensely vivid that I had awakened that morning in a cold sweat. What did it all mean? Was it prophetic? I needed help, and I needed answers. As long as she wasn't blond.

But I probably looked like a mess, the situation in my pants was becoming unbearable. I'd probably need to go to the emergency room, to see if human medicine had a cure for a 24-hour alien-induced erection. No...no... don't think about aliens, Cecil. Got to stay rational. The therapist can help. I hope.

I was surprised at how little paperwork there was. The secretary had her back to me as I signed in and was ushered in. The office was deep mahogany wood panels and a red, lavishly carpeted floor. The far wall had cheery, soothing painting of wilderness scenes and flowing rivers, with the requisite psychotherapist's couch raised near the head. And Dr. Cox herself...

...Was a redhead! I audibly sighed with relief as I let myself relax. Beneath her primly buttoned business dress she was spectacularly gorgeous, however. Almost too gorgeous. I wasn't sure, but from the way her chest bulged outwards, it seemed as though she had to be at least an F-cup; either that or she was smuggling some bowling balls in her bra, perhaps -

"I'm up here, Mr. Damion. " Came an indignant voice that at last, was not velvety, yet still feminine.

"Y-yes of course, I apologize." I slid onto the couch with relief. I was even happier now; that was a very human reaction and I was ready to give Dr. Cox my complete trust.

"May I call you Cecil?"

"Sure."

And so I explained about the dreams, terrible dreams of the alien invasion of Earth, where the population was subdued by weapons of pure pleasure, where the armies and governments had rolled over and given up their power. Dr. Cox wrote copiously into her little notebook, red hair all bound and bunned, with librarian glasses that created an image that soothed me with her apparent professionalism. Except for her legs. They were sleek, perfect, and belonged on a panty-hose commercial, and yet she wasn't wearing any. But what I noticed was the way she would constantly cross and uncross her legs; was she trying to get me to look up her skirt? No...no...I've got to stop thinking that way. Of course not.

"Do you have an erection, Cecil?" came the unexpected question.

"I...I..I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I asked you if your penis was erect?" she said with perfect seriousness, raising her eyes to stare at me the way one might study a bug in a jar.

"I..uhm...I'm not sure that this is...uh...relevant to..."

"Do you see those certificates on the wall behind me, Cecil? The one on the far left says that I'm also certified as a sex therapist. I know what I'm talking about and have good cause to ask." Alright. I'm trusting Dr. Cox.

"Y-yes...since...for almost an entire day now." I gulped. She nodded, jotted something in her little notebook.

"And are you sexually attracted to me, Cecil?" My eyes widened.

"That isn't...I mean, I didn't come here expecting anything like that...I'm n-no...no..." I stammered. She nodded.

"I'm a big girl, Cecil. I can handle the truth. My breasts excite you; you're wondering if they really are as large as they seem. Also, you've been trying to look up my skirt." She noted, her cool expression never changing.

"Now, just wait a minute!" I shook my head vigorously. " I never tried...that's not at all what I'm trying to do, I came here for professional help! That's all!"

"You can lie in public Cecil, for the sake of decorum, but for your mental health, it is advisable that you not lie to yourself. " She uncrossed her svelte legs again. "It is a known fact that the part of a man that grows the most during sexual arousal is...

"...the pupils." That's a surprise. "So believe me when I tell you that you cannot conceal your desires from me, Cecil.

"I don't understand what you're trying to do..." Or did I? "If you can read me so well, why even ask?"

"Because you need to admit your true feelings to yourself in order to overcome anxiety. I'm pushing you to do just that." She glanced at a file on her desk, nodding.

"You've been experiencing sexual dysfunctions for some time now, with prior girlfriends." She knew about Susan? That hardly seemed likely! Did the whole world know he had a problem getting it up that one time? "And from listening to you; I am convinced that your suppressed libido is producing side-manifestions which cause your other symptoms. Do you want to be cured, Cecil?"

"Yes." Why else was I here?

"Then you must trust me." Her hands reached up towards the white blouse she wore beneath her business dress and began deftly undoing buttons.

"You...you're not doing what I think you're doing."

"You have too much pent up lust and sexual anxiety. Your only hope is for release of the tension. It's the only way to get your subconscious to stop punishing your waking mind." And with that, her proper business attire was cast aside. With no bra.

"Let go of your anxiety, and embrace your instincts." My face couldn't have been any redder had I dunked it in Kool-aid. Her glorious F-cups leapt out at me. Her aureoles were wide and dark with nipples like erasers.

"Ihhhhhhhhuuuuuuhh...."

"This is what I'm talking about; even when presented with the naked body of a woman you find intensely desirable you experience considerable doubt." Dressed only in her glasses, and high heel shoes, Dr. Cox joined me on the couch.

"B-but - professional...organizations....ethical...guidelines...laws for p-proper conduct between....therapists....patients..."

"You can't live your life by committee vote, Cecil. And those professional organizations don't know everything. Release. Relax Trust." My pants seemed somehow to undo themselves, and my cock leapt as if for joy. "There are instincts that all males possess; which society encourages you to deny. My naked body will bring your natural, male urges to prominence, and your rational mind will be subsumed by your resurgent libido." She took my wrists and brought my left hand to her chest, as my fingers were treated to a tactile tour of buoyant breastflesh with a bubble-like roundness, down towards the toned tautness of her firm abdomen, down to her venus mound and finally a bush that was moistening with pungent, female juices.

"Release your tensions, Cecil. Your male instincts tell you what to do. Follow them, obey your urges and you will be free of anxiety."

My cock was to blame. Two days ago, I would have been intensely suspicious. But since that partial blow-job in the shower; the fire in my groin had only increased. It wasn't just my non-stop erection, the sexual craving to go with it continued to grow larger. It was more growl than yell as I grasped the creamy-soft flesh of the hands-on psychiatrist and pressed her to the couch. So slick...so wet...so female... It almost caught me off guard how easy it was to penetrate; my rock-hard ten-inches of angry manmeat slid perfectly, cleanly with one good thrust, so wet was the womanhood beneath me. I gurgled with the promise of the release to come.

At this point, more than anything else, it wasn't so much that I desired sex, It was more the escape from the furious tension that burned in my groin. Release...Release...sweet release of a woman's body. Inside a woman's body. That was far more important than merely having fun. And she was right; my rational mind was a voice in the wilderness shouting against the hurricane as I thrust over and over into the yielding paradise of soft sexuality that growled beneath me. Her legs encircled my pelvis as I buried myself to the hilt inside the hot wetness.

As we coupled in fanatic lust, Dr. Cox began to sweat, no...not quite sweat...clear, slick, faintly oily. And aromatic. The rose-petal skin of the indecent therapist was soon slippery with glistening oils that highlighted her every curve, each swell of muscle in her taut belly, the sweeps and valleys of her mountainous boobs. The artful beauty of her graceful flesh illuminated in sultry detail. This had been another fantasy of mine, screwing a prim and professional woman who was all dignified and disciplined. And her boobs, I'd given up hope of finding a girl with such an otherwise trim figure, but with breasts too large for me to wrap a hand around -- another intense fantasy of mine.

Peaches...Peaches and Wine. That was the scent that emanated from the Doctor's flesh as I wallowed my face, hands, chest and cock in the feminine wonderland that quivered beneath my male hardness. The sublime beauty of the entire experience inflamed me more than I dreamed possible. I howled madly, crazed with lust as Dr. Cox arched her back, thrusting her boobs at me even as I ground my meat between her moist legs. When I sucked upon her slick flesh, the peachy scent grew stronger, yet the taste; it was an eerie, tangy-fishy taste not unlike...pussy?...the wetness of a woman's sexual arousal, yet all over her...Beauty and Perversion rolled into one. Did it make sense? No. Did it make me horny? Yes.

"Need you....to do something for me....for your therapy." I moaned, sucking upon her erect nipples. Her delicate fingers reached around and down...towards my tight balls. Her strokes were feather-soft. "Don't worry...about consequences... I need you to orgasm. Cum ...need it in my pussy. You need to give me your cum -- all you can muster. Don't try to pull out, or any other tricks men envision. Just spurt all you have inside my cunt. You will gain acceptance of your own sexuality only by cumming inside me."

OKAY.

Honestly, it was hard to tell when the climax hit. I was aware only of the pussy-drenched flesh of Dr. Cox, her enormous boobs and the Floating. Yes...a bliss so perfect that I lost touch with my own position in the world, an altered state of consciousness beyond the sufferings of Earthly life. Almost like...like my dreams? There were brief moments, when I was aware of the fact that my penis was embedded in a hot pussy that smelled of wine and peaches, and that my penis was blasting away with more cum than I ever dreamed I could summon. But then the pleasure would sweep over me...my consciousness flickering in and out. Yet there was a sense that I must keep cumming, keep spurting into the body of this perfect female.

I had no idea how much time had passed. But I was still naked. And so was Dr. Cox. "G-gonna get dressed?" I asked. Her statuesque body still gleamed with sweat...or whatever it was, her thighs and belly and boobs still exposed, yet she continued writing in her notebook dutifully. Strangely, she hadn't even bothered to let down her hair during the furious copulation.

"So the sight of a naked woman causes you distress.... interesting." She jotted down more notes. Almost absentmindedly, she sent the middle finger of her left hand between her legs, thrust it into her own pussy, and brought it out to suck upon it...as if my sperm was candy to her. "But you need to relax, Cecil. Relax." she touched the side of my head with her other hand. I thought I saw a pink glow, and then passed out again.

**********

I was awakened by a heavy weight...and a scent. Honeysuckle and baking bread... I recognized the Brunette straddling my pelvis as Dr. Cox's secretary, I felt so drained...but my cock was rigid and ready. I didn't remember her coming in, or what excuse she might have given, but the secretary rode my cock with the desperation of a madwoman. There seemed to be an association between my orgasms, and the blackouts -- because there was that floating feeling of bliss...and the loss of consciousness. Yet I was spurting, jetting my seed into yet another eager womb.

**********

Next, it was both Dr. Cox and the Secretary. The gorgeous brunette sat upon my face, the engorged lips of her cunt plastered to my mouth. My senses were overwhelmed, giving me a buzzing in my brain from her yeasty,flowery sex-musk. On the occasions when I could see from between her legs, I saw Dr. Cox riding my still hard rod, while her and the lusty secretary fondled each others breasts, and licked each other with perverse sinuosity in their tongues. The orgasms were torn from me before sleep claimed me yet again.

**********

When next I was aware, I had fallen to the ground with a solid thud. Still in the office... but no telling how long I had been there. Wrapped around me was the hot, nubile body of yet a third of the incredible women. Her red hair was curly, and her moistening skin reeked of jasmine, yet I found myself relishing the sexual flavor of girlcum in my mouth.

"My colleague, Dr. Pricker has arrived to aid in your treatment." announced Dr. Cox as she raised her mouth from the hot snatch of her secretary, as the females sixty-nined each other on the carpet not three feet away. The air was clogged with flowery aromas, and the two sapphic beings were utterly soaked with the unique sexual juices that these creatures released when aroused. Dr. Pricker gave a low growl from her hauntingly gorgeous face as her breasts began to pulse. From the size of mere coconuts, the jasmine-scented boobs slid against my face as they crept outwards, upwards and forwards at a rate of nearly an inch every five seconds. Without thinking I suckled upon a rubbery nipple and my spine tingled from the perverse flavor. Yet something in the back of my mind concerned me... it was...wrong somehow... I knew that there was something wrong with a woman whose breasts expand during sex. Just couldn't think of it now.

Instead, I would simply suck -- suck upon the throbbing nipple that was in my face. I found release along with my desire. Dr. Pricker then pressed me down into the carpet, and I could see the firm hemispheres of her ass quivering as her cunt became a vice around my cock, milking me with a precision that was almost preternatural, and I could not resist a final, toe-curling, spine-tingling explosion as my male essence flooded her hungry pussy. Again, the surge of delight was so strong that my mind faded from consciousness to float on a sea of sensual bliss.

**********

"...certain that we'll lose this one. I'm surprised he didn't recognize you the moment he entered this room."

"He doesn't yet understand how the process works; he thinks..." a girlish giggle. "...he thinks we all have to be blondes!"

"Ahhh...because that was what he saw during his first encounter, and several times since then."

"Yes...because of that, he's developed a strong, paranoid anxiety towards attractive blond women from his experience. You should have heard him as he was coming up the elevator 'Don't be Blonde! Don't be Blonde!' Because he had such a powerful need for me to look like...anything else...for him I wasn't blonde.

"Because he desperately hoped you weren't, he wanted to be able to trust you."

My eyes popped open suddenly, aware and awake and worried. For the first time in one...two days my cock was finally limp. I felt like a tire with the air sucked out. Dr. Cox and her 'colleagues', had rode my manhood beyond the point of exhaustion. They kept talking; they didn't know I was awake finally. And still naked. On the carpet.