XXXecil's: Silverfox

Mabel let out a wild whoop of delight as she reflected how unthinkable all this was back when she'd been a married housewife so many decades ago. What would her old, dead husband think if he could see her now? She used to be so modest. She paused a moment to ponder how much she had changed in just a few short days. There was a delicious thrill in so flagrantly defying her old propriety. New, fresh....everything felt so new.

Ethel for her part, was now wearing a scandalously short, sleeveless rhinestone miniskirt pulled up so high it was almost crotch level, both to display her spectacular legs to best effect, while at the same time riveting attention to her sex. Mabel and Ethel shared a glance and a smile, and there was an unspoken mutual desire. The thought of men staring into her cleavage or hoping to catch a peak up her skirt would now fill both of them with an empowered thrill of electrifying joy. Let them stare; they both wanted it -- craved that irresistible attention that the beautiful could not help but attract.

"You girls worked out a strategy, yet?" came a purring voice to Bertha's left. Sitting on a sidewalk bench reading a paper was a bosomy, gorgeous woman who seemed to have the exotic elegance of an Asian beauty wedded to the robust hips and plump breasts of mixed black or possibly Hispanic ancestry, a rare and exotic beauty, and all three could tell by the air-brushed suppleness of her complexion and the gray streak draping over her eyes that she too, had taken the shot.

"You can't just run around, showing off cleavage forever. There's a price to pay for what we've gained; and each of us has to work out a long-term strategy to avoid the side-effects." The newcomer herself was dressed in a more subdued, navy blue business dress, parted in the front where she salaciously wore a bra as a top over her bare skin.

"Do we know you?" Ethel asked.

"We've never met; but....I think we all know each other very well." She flicked a finger through Ethel's white streak. Point taken.

I frowned, and folded my arms. "I'm not listening to the F.D.A.'s propaganda; they're just upset that the underworld controls Silverfox, and they can't find a way to tax it." The exotic beauty turned to me.

"That all may be, but the stories you've heard -- are true. You'll soon find that the urges will become.... beyond overwhelming. You need a plan."

"Well, what's it to you?" Ethel asked pointedly.

"There's still a lot of controversy... fears and misinformation. There are some of us who appreciate the value of solidarity." Speaking of solidarity....

"Where's Bertha?" Mabel wondered, eyes scanning.

The guy was putting his hands down her cleavage! Not only was she allowing it -- Bertha had taken hold of a horny young yuppie and was actually guiding his touch!

"You ever spend the night alone -- just you and your left hand?" She indecently asked the young, blond professional.

"I...I..you..."

"What would you do...." she purred. "Where would your hand go if it could go anywhere...?" The man gulped. "Show me..." Bertha commanded, thrusting her jutting chest up again his palms, her eyes smoldering, a craving inside that was manic in intensity.

This was unthinkable! "We don't need guys for a Girl's Night Out! It was supposed to be just us, out by ourselves, proving we didn't need men to have a good time; and now this?" Back in the old days...literally....even back when men had desired them no one would have ditched her girlfriends to throw herself at a man, especially one she didn't know. And yet...

Mabel's breath quickened as she thought about what Bertha was about to allow. It could be her. Why not her? She could pick up a guy just as young and hot. To be desired, lusted, craved again... She felt her pussy throbbing in a series of mini-orgasms.... breasts warm, almost hot.

"Here." The newcomer handed Mabel an oval-shaped plastic case of pink pills. Mabel dimly recognized them as some kind of popular birth control pill. "You my friend, can already feel what I'm talking about, and it gets worse."

"Feels.... so good." Mabel caressed her own bikini and mesh-clad chest as burning desires flared within.

"Fight it," said a new voice. She approached the Asian beauty and stood next to her with a posture that spoke of a close familiarity. "The nymphomania is part of the package; but indulging it only strengthens it." She was a sleek, platinum blond beauty with an impressive bosom that was still pronounced even inside of her dark, buttoned up jacket. She was salon-caliber beautiful, but wore long, dark pants to hide her figure. In the dim light, her white streak near the crown of her head was hard to see with such a bright natural color. "You can only remain young and free so long as you resist the cravings." But the Asian woman rolled her amber eyes.

"Total abstinence? Be realistic Jane. That's just not going to happen."

"It had better Jade, if they want to prevent the side-effects." This was a little weird.

"Uhh... thanks for the birth control uh.... I gotta go; you two sort it out between yourselves, bye!" Mabel had to get out of there!

**********

"Pull over! Now!" she sounded urgent, so Jason slowed down. "I can't wait to get back to your place...I gotta have you now!!" Her face was a pleasing oval, and smooth, it almost made Jason wonder if she was on that new super-youth drug they mentioned on the radio.

The woman he...he never really caught her name, tore at his tie with her teeth in her desperation. Jason was generally thought of as a handsome man, nice square-chin, strong and prominent nose and clear, blue eyes, young enough for a bright future and ambitious enough for a good shot at it -- but....no woman had ever reacted to him like this! Maybe it really was true that this new, anti-aging magic bullet turned women into mega-nymphos, well he'd find out soon en -

"WHOAAAAA!!" The gorgeous, buxom woman thrust her hand down his pants, moaning in delight as she felt his hard cock rising to life. She put his hands on her chest again, and began pressing herself against him. And he knew that she was expecting him to rip off her bikini-top himself!

In moments, vast orbs filled his grip, breasts plump enough that he could cover both tits with both hands, with still an inch of cleavage separating his two thumbs, he teased her nipples as she wailed in yearning. Strange, her nipples were almost....moist? And so hot! Almost feverishly hot.

But soon, Jason's attention was distracted by her naked pussy, quivering and dripping as it enveloped his meaty rod as his paramour flipped a switch and pushed the front seat backwards, allowing a make-shift bed for the frenzied mating to begin in earnest.

They were in public! On a crowded street! Grunting and moaning and thrusting into each other, and at any moment a cop could stop by...heh! This slut would probably seduce him! But then, the Kansas City police were never around when you needed them.

And Jason knew this would be no ordinary lay; if he could satisfy her enough to actually drive back to his place, he sensed that he and this curvaceous mad-woman would be rutting like animals for days!

**********

"This is fer all you girls about Forty-Twooo.... tossin' pennies into the Fountain of Youth... Every laugh, line on your face... Made you who you are today...."

Her eyes shot open, then she laughed at the singing voice on the radio. And laughed.

And then clutched her head. Ohhhhh.... and waited for the room to stop spinning.

Apparently, Ethel and Mabel had gone out drinking after satisfying (temporarily) their wardrobe needs. Apparently, because Mabel found it difficult to remember much after those strangers had told her to control the desires of her new, gloriously young body. There had been a bar.... there had been Martinis, and Tequilas.... and fruity Margaritas with salt on the rim... ohhh... and neither she nor Ethel had had to buy any of them! Men were such dupes sometimes! She promised them nothing, yet the old ploy of buying her a drink was a constant. Of course, just a week ago, it never would have happened. Her whole world had turned upside down and...

"What was that?" She could see in the mirror on her dresser a strange mark on the small of her back. A tattoo. During the small hours of the morning, fueled by cheap liquor, overconfidence, and cash burning a whole in her purse, she'd gone out and gotten a tattoo.

It was an image of a cute, cherubic cupid seemingly raising his middle finger defiantly towards the viewer, with a 'you can all go to hell' sneer on his plump face. How deliciously wicked.

"That was my idea." Came a sibilant, yet familiar voice. Who else would be in the house with her? But standing near the bedroom door was a fiery, gorgeous woman that reminded Mabel of her new self. Red hair, but straighter than Mabel's own, that swept down in sharp bangs to cover her left eye for a sultry/mysterious air. It took a moment before she realized that the mystery woman was completely naked. Her flesh was covered in a vast spread of interlinked tattoos, showing symbols of freedom and defiance, and lovers intertwining. She had a pattern like rose-vines that obscured her full, jutting breasts and nipples, but there was no actual clothing. There were images of a volcano above a flooding ocean that obscured the stranger's crotch. Trails of naked women in flight twined around her slim, shapely legs.

"How did - "

"Think about it, Mabel...do you believe that anything that could so totally transform your body wouldn't change your mind too?"

"You mean - "

"Yeah, yeah, honestly I'm a hallucination -- a figment of your own imagination, and I'm everything you were always afraid to become!" The ghost-woman hissed as she glared at Mabel like a piece of meat.

"But I didn't - "

"Yes, you did...because I'm something that you need. The deep, boiling desires you've tried to sweep under the rug during your marriage, and your entire widow-hood. You always wanted me, to be me. I wouldn't be here otherwise. I am what you crave; what you want to become." And she turned and walked through the solid door.

Curious, shocked, and worried, Mabel followed, not sure what she hoped to find.

Out in her living room, it was mid-day already -- she must have slept for....who knows how long! She could hear a lawn-mower in the front. Ah, it was Jamal. He was a good kid; he had hired on with a landscaping service to try and same up enough cash to put himself through college. As an elderly widow, she had admired his reliable work-ethic, as he tended to the hedges and did the work to keep the place presentable that an older woman could never do. But now.... as a Silverfox she admired his corded muscles, the raw, earthy sheen of his black skin, the powerful muscles in his bare back as he pushed the mower. And a seething heat began to throb in her groin.

"Don't you remember?" whispered her tattooed ghost. "When you were...so much younger.... before you were married, you were always curious about black men. Remember the feelings that came to you when you watched them?"

"I...I it was... at that time...where we lived it was just....unthinkable -- even to acknowledge feelings like that... for a white girl like me.... at that time, I couldn't even consider it, not where I grew up."

"And so you denied yourself. Suppressed the urges that boiled in your blood to fit in with the silly proprieties of the day. But the urges that you resisted are a part of you, a true and natural part. Now! Now is the time to release your desires! Your old life, your old family is long gone!" But it was all too strange for Mabel.

"What are you supposed to be, my Id?" Freud would have a field day with her, she was sure.

"I am the Truth. The Truth of your own nature." responded the crazy, tattooed fantasy woman. And Mabel grunted, pressing her hands against the glass as her gut twisted.

"The hormones burning inside you are sexual.... the others you met last night... they lie... the more your suppress your urges, the stronger they will become. You are a hyper-feminine goddess with needs that cannot be restrained by petty morality!" Mabel groaned and arched her back as obscene urges tingled their way from groin to gullet, as her brain was being pickled in sex-hormones. Her Id put her lips to Mabel's ear as she continued her enticement.

"He knew you...when you were old. What might happen if he saw you now?"

**********

She beckoned to him. But the sight of a porn-worthy redhead dressed in a skimpy white T-shirt and lacy panties (And with a tall, cool glass of lemonade) certainly attracted Jamal's attention. But he would need a little bit of a push. The lawnmower slowed to a stop as he came to see what she wanted.

"Uh... hey.. is Mrs. Hayworth doing alright?" He asked.

"She's resting. I'm her daughter.... Maven. Stopped by for a visit." Jamal's dark, sweaty brow furrowed.

"That's strange; she's mentioned her sons to me before; shown me a lot of photo albums.... but never once mentioned a daughter." His ebony muscles tensed.

"Yeah, see that's because she's a little bit ashamed of me. You see, I'm a total nymphomaniac!" At that, she poured the tall, cool glass of lemonade down the front of her white T-shirt, plastering the flimsy garment to the buxom curves of her overflowing breasts.

"Whoopsie...." she said insincerely. "Look what you made me do.... I'm afraid it's up to you to clean me up..." She laced her arms around his neck. "Every...inch... of my body..." she growled, glaring at him with open-mouthed, panting hunger.

He didn't need much more prompting after that, they stumbled backwards into her house, kissing and fondling each other in passion. Her hands roved between cupping his massive cock, to squeezing his beefy ass. He was mainly content with caressing her breasts.

They made it as far as her living room couch. It wasn't clear which of them had finally succeeded in tearing off her wet T-shirt, both of them attacked the garment. She assaulted him with her breasts, giggling as her nipples swelled even harder than she thought possible. Jamal quivered in delight as his face was buried in mountainous tits that easily obscured his face. "Maven" reached down and with a smooth hand began to jack him off. His great, dark, bull-cock flared to life; larger and more powerful by far than anything she'd felt between the legs of her long-dead husband. She openly drooled as her breasts were suckled.

She swayed and moaned, tickling his sensitive manhood, then vigorously pumping his meaty shaft to prepare it. Jamal was gurgling all over, quivering and growling as his urges were stoked to a fever pitch.

"I...can't!" she moaned as she pushed him away from her, backing off. The two of them nude, sweaty aroused. She could see the frustration in his eyes, the disappointment and most of all.... the aggression.

"You forgot to trim around the bush... Jay-Jay." He was puzzled. Then his eyes widened.

"That was what.... Mrs. Hayworth... always reminded me of... and it..that name...nick-name... when I was growing up... only she called me - " And then his eyes, already dilating, widened again. He would be remembering news reports about some strange new, illegal, super-youth drug that so far only worked on women. And how the government was afraid of it.

"Mrs...Hayworth?" he was stunned, but his penis was still ram-rod rigid. She laughed triumphantly and grinned sharkishly.

"It must feel awful, Jay-Jay... to be teased like this -- for a naked woman to get you so hot and bothered, and then to tell you no..." She paced in a circle around him, nude....wet....dripping; but not from the lemonade.

"A man can go crazy when a woman does that to him! So frustrating....makes you so angry...so aggressive." Her green eyes stared pointedly into his. " A lot of men wouldn't tolerate what I just did to you. What about you? Are you going to let me treat you like that? Are you just gonna walk away with your tail between your legs?" It was working, she had stoked the fires of his lust, and now provoked his aggression.

Jamal roared and grasped up his shapely tormentor by her hips and pressed her firm, young body against his own. She felt the full press of his virile strength against her, and there was no escape for her. Mabel's voluptuous assets were now captive to his hard, black, relentless manhood. Here in his grip, she was helpless before his feverish lusts, and the thought made her gurgle with ecstasy. Pressed into the couch, he pinned her beneath him, her pussy quivered beneath his pelvis, and he paused as if to make certain he had her secured beneath his manly strength.

Though caught in his grip, she arched her back and postured her nude, massive breasts towards him, instinctively hoping to inflame his urges even further.

"Your lips... on my nipples... I want to feel your strength upon me.... want you inside me... I need to feel you force yourself into my pussy.... I want to feel you explode inside me! I want it, I need it. Your male power... Thrust! Thrust inside me and penetrate me with your seed!" Face contorting in lusting disbelief, Jamal could only murmur:

"Mrs. Hayworth...?"

"Call me Mabel."

**********

The sex was better than sex. The unearthly changes wrought upon Mabel by the Xanoxylate chemistry enhanced the experience in ways she did not imagine possible.

As her dark lover pressed her into the cushions, there was an eerie, odd pulsing sensation. It was as if she was feeling, sensing his energy...his maleness. Strange pulses of raw sensation seemed to emanate from him, electrifying her erogenous zones. It was as if her new body had a primal awareness of his masculine essence, and it was reacting with increasingly feverish passion.

And when the moment of truth at last arrived, when his beefy rod of dark meat at last speared into her wet, white sanctum -- she discovered that her sensitivity had been effectively multiplied. Grunting, straining Jamal had barely managed two stroked through her slippery cunt before a hot knot of seething passion burned deep in her groin, and waves of euphoric delight radiated outwards from her sexual core. She wrapped her legs and feet tightly around his pumping hips, snarling as she forced his sausage-thick eight-inches into her quivering womb yet deeper. Jamal emitted a wail of delight as he slid into her to the hilt, their bushes merging in heat and wetness.

With her hands, she tried to push up and manhandle her own tits, in a belated attempt to incite even greater lust in him. Years ago, she would have been fearful and suspicious of the male libido, but now the lusts of men seemed to Mabel precious and fleeting, a commodity that must be nurtured.

Jamal took the cue and roughly sunk his calloused grip into her pillows of bobbing, jiggling titflesh. He teased her engorged nipples with the right amount of pain and pleasure to send shivers of delight arching through her.

The first orgasm did not subside. As her body was pummeled with searing waves of sensual delight, the deep ache in her groin only grew stronger. It was as if each climax reverberated through her being, sending continuous echoes of sublime pleasure that had her scratching Jamal's back and cackling like a madwoman.

Soon, he bent her over the arm of the couch, and slammed into her doggie-style. She undulated, shrieking her delight and wiggling her ass back towards his mighty meat for encouragement. As he reamed her from behind, his hands continued their sensual onslaught upon her tremulous breasts, and while she tried her best to support herself with her arms, the pleasure of the building, cascading orgasms made her every joint weak.

But she discovered a new joy of sex under the influence of Cis-sulphonamide Xanoxylate. After several glorious minutes of white-knuckled thrusting, at last Jamal orgasmed, jetting his manseed deep into her womb, this intensified the pulsing stimulation she felt at his maleness, but as she relaxed and prepared for him to disengage, the two of them made a new discovery.