Donor - Ch. 06

6.

"So, any news..?"

Janet chewed her bottom lip nervously, trying to figure out how to respond to Samantha's text. It'd been over a month now, and she still hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell her roommate that she hadn't even gone through with it. She felt like a total fraud every time the subject came up.

She settled on deflecting, typing back 'No' with a frowny face. Then she followed up:

"I don't think it worked."

Nearly simultaneously, an incoming response came back:

"Maybe it didn't work this time."

Hmmm, Janet thought. After the "donation" night, she'd been extremely worried about the way Samantha had practically fled from the apartment, concerned that going through with The Idea might have done some real lasting damage to their friendship. She could only think of one other moment in their history that even came close... and this dwarfed that by comparison. After all, the imposition was significant and dramatic. Her best friend had altered her very anatomy to help her. She was willing to give her genetic material to Janet and bring a new life into the world, one that shared both of their DNA.

As the weeks passed, Janet had become increasingly uneasy. Now, really, the concerns were two-fold; worries over the awkwardness of having made the request in the first place, the lines that had been crossed, and now the trepidation over Samantha's reaction if she were to find out that it had been all for nothing.

But, happily, her fears on the first issue had proved to be unfounded. Their initial interactions had been somewhat forced and stilted, but thereafter, things seemed to settle back to normal. If she really had gone through with the plan, it would have taken a few weeks at minimum for Janet to know whether it had worked, and so not discussing anything prior to then was perfectly natural for the situation.

Much to Janet's surprise, as the days and weeks ticked by, it was actually Samantha who began broaching the subject first, gently probing and asking. And while Janet's concerns about their friendship faded, the anxiety about her secret began to grow.

Compounding that was Janet's vacillating emotions within. Now that she'd had time to come to terms with the overwhelming events they'd undertaken together, she was beginning to feel a crumb of regret at not having gone through with the last step after all. If she'd just gotten over herself and carried the deed out in that one moment, it could have been over and done with. For all she knew, Janet might very well have had news to share at this moment.

But the fact was, she hadn't gone through with it. And now... what? She had to either continue to perpetuate the lie or else come clean. But then... perhaps there was a third option. And potentially a way out of both of her regretful actions. They could just... try again.

It wasn't that easy though, was it? It was an invitation to open the whole can of worms all over again. Ask her best friend to do that? Again? Janet had no idea how she would take it, especially now that they both really knew what it entailed. Maybe she could just ride it out and let it fade.

'Whelp, nothing ever came of it! Oh well... let's just forget about it!'

Or maybe she should just come clean...

The problem with either of those approaches though... What if she really did want to go through with this after all? Either course would close the door on that avenue, and the latter seemed likely to close it with a really loud slam.

Janet stared down at her phone, thoughts whirling about; could she ask, how would she do it, did she even want to..?

And then Janet's phone buzzed and dinged in her hand, right before her eyes.

The incoming text message from Samantha read:

"Want to try again?"

***

"Hey," Samantha greeted cheerily, walking in the door. She and Janet hugged warmly.

"Thank you," Janet said. "Thank you for doing this."

"It's nothing," she replied, pulling off her coat and tossing it over a chair. They stood there for a moment, neither of them saying anything.

"Should we uh... get started..?" Samantha asked, breaking the pause.

"Um... sure! Yea.. alright! Everything's right there, same as before."

"OK," Samantha replied affably. "Just, uh... wait here! I'll be right out..."

She entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind herself, locking it and then letting out a deep breath.

Finally, finally... she promptly grabbed the box and shook out the blister pack of pills, pushing out a blue one with slightly trembling hands. It'd been so long, so many days and weeks...

At first, Samantha had tried to push it all away, reject it, bury it. Taking the pill was the craziest, most fucked up thing she'd ever done, she'd told herself. She would never do that again. Janet could get down on her hands and knees and beg and she'd refuse.

In the immediate aftermath, after "donation night" and then having gone home and practically torn Michael's clothes off and ravished him, all of those disturbing thoughts running through her head all the while, Samantha was a confused wreck. The way that her mind kept going back to that night, replaying it all over and over again, moment by moment, what had happened, how it all felt... It was almost as though... she'd liked it.

But that was impossible. That was insane. She didn't want... that. She didn't like that. It was all a favor. A favor for her best friend. One that she wouldn't do, ever, ever, ever again.

And she continued to tell herself, as time passed by, maybe it was already done -- mission accomplished. And then Janet wouldn't have to ask her to do it again, and she wouldn't have to refuse at all, and this crazy business would be at an end.

That's what she told herself initially.

But despite Samantha's rational mind trying to assert itself and restore order to her life, a lower, baser part of herself kept resisting the efforts. It would interrupt and intrude on her thoughts at any moment. The recollection of that feeling, that sudden, urgent pressure. The growing and growing. The eventual release. The messy, sticky, squirting release. The agonizing pleasure of it.

She couldn't shake it. She tried to mentally psyche herself out of it. Tried to repulse herself with the memory of that disgusting, heavy male organ, jutting out from between her legs, bulging in her panties. Tried to focus on the abomination of that thick-veined, hard shaft, the ugly swollen head, red and angry looking.

She didn't want that, didn't want one of those things. That was so twisted and gross and wrong...

Still, the perverse thought persisted. Remembering the heft of it in her palm didn't bring the intended revulsion, it only brought to mind the sensation of stroking and rubbing it, how easily her hand slid up and down its sticky, lubricated length, how it felt to have that done to herself...

It was sick. It was depraved. It was crazy. But Samantha couldn't help it. No matter how she tried to avoid acknowledging the way it made her feel, there was no denying her body. When she thought about it, she got aroused. She got wet.

She got horny.

She'd close her eyes in the shower, grinding her thumb up against her clit until it was painfully engorged and hard, and she'd imagine it expanding, elongating, thickening, until it was a massive phallus, throbbing, ready to squirt and bring that indescribable pleasure...

And as the obsession grew, things had shifted in her mind. Gradually, she realized that she no longer hoped it had worked the first time with Janet. She began to hope... it hadn't.

Samantha exercised agonizing restraint over the passing weeks, waiting to see what news Janet would have. She would pace herself, hold back the impulse to check in too frequently, or seem peculiarly over-interested. She had a lot more sex with Michael than was usual, and more passionately as well, but he wasn't complaining naturally.

Then, just when Samantha felt she couldn't stand it any longer, finally Janet threw in the towel and conceded that nothing was happening, and although she knew she was being abnormally overeager, Samantha couldn't help but to prematurely offer to do it again. Not that it mattered, because of course Janet wanted to try again.

Samantha had been barely able to force herself to say she would be over the following evening instead of transparently offering to come over that minute, and the next day had been tortuously slow to pass, until at the appointed time, she rushed over, trying to compose herself before walking in the door, not wanting to look like a complete freak to her roommate.

If Janet only knew that I'd been looking forward to this... Samantha mused, staring at the little blue pill. God, what would she think of me..?!

The thought gave her a brief pause. Wondering what would Janet think of her? Hell, what did she, Samantha, think of herself? Once was more than enough, and now she'd been waiting and wanting to do it again? Why would she ever want to do this again? She wasn't supposed to want this. She wasn't supposed to like this...

Samantha wavered, looking down with conflict at the tiny pill, this thing she'd been so badly obsessed over all these weeks but knew she wasn't supposed to want.

She shouldn't...

Janet needs this. She needs me to take this, she told herself abruptly, with firm resolve.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that was mostly a feeble pretense, but it was enough for the moment and without further deliberation, Samantha popped the pill in and swallowed it down.

I did it, she thought, trying to ignore the excited gleam she saw in the blue eyes of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Now she only had to wait...

As the first time, the seconds ticked by slowly. Samantha could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest, could feel the slight movement of the air on the skin of her forearms as she focused intently on herself, awaiting the changes she knew were coming, her breathing rising slightly in anticipation.

It seemed like an eternity later, when Samantha thought she felt a small pulse, so minute she wasn't sure, until a few moments later it happened again.

"Oh," she sighed softly aloud, as she felt another one, this one stronger and unmistakable. "There it is.

"There it is..."

The pulsing continued in shortening intervals, growing more powerful with each instance, until it became a steady, constant pressure of increasing intensity.

Yes... Yes... It's going to happen again...

To experience it once more, after all this waiting, to feel it once again... The pressure in her clit expanding, far beyond even the agonizing limit of what she would feel during her normal arousal, that sensation of getting ready to explode...

Soon, soon...

Samantha's jaw was clenched tightly, and she was holding her breath as she felt that tension grow to intolerable limits one more, yanking up her dress hem and sticking a hand down her sopping panties.

Oh yes... oh yes...

Now...!

A small grunt escaped Samantha's lips as the dam of pressure burst out, her massive erection emerging with a wet gush, sliding up the length of her palm, filling her hand.

"Nnngh..!"

While there was a spike of immense pleasure as her member appeared, she did not experience a climax right then as previously. Samantha was only left to stand there, bust heaving, her long delicate fingers wrapped around her large erection. She continued to remain motionless for a few seconds, caught between the impulses to savor the moment and immediately re-experience the ecstasy from the last occasion, but it wasn't long before the latter won out, and she began stroking herself, though slowly at first.

It felt so good, it felt so good... Better than she remembered. As she glided her hand up and down the length of herself, she could feel it, twitching and throbbing, becoming even more engorged with blood, longer and harder. She wanted to climax again, feel that again too, but this was so amazing in and of itself, and she didn't want it to end either...

Despite her desire to make it last, Samantha's hand began moving back and forth faster and faster, greedily pumping herself, stimulating herself towards her peak. Soon she was pounding herself, jerking herself roughly, panting uncomposedly.

God, what's happening to me... Samantha wondered blankly as she pleasured herself. She tried to keep focused on what she was doing this for, that it was only for Janet, her best friend. But she couldn't help but be aware just how incredible this was... She felt like a mindless animal, concerned only with pleasuring herself, and indeed she did feel ashamed and dirty, but the feelings didn't diminish her arousal; rather they only gave her a thrill of perverse excitement.

Vaguely she wondered if Janet would be able to hear her from out there, but she couldn't bring herself to care much, to try and control herself. She wanted to cum so badly, and it wasn't going to be long before that happened. Pre-cum was dribbling from her swollen head, running over her fist.

"Uhh... uh..." Samantha let out a series of quiet moans and gasps under her breath as flares of pleasure began to wash over her, her cock twitching in rhythm with each one. Her shaft was growing rock hard, burning hot in her palm, ready to erupt...

Oh, it's happening, she thought with uncontained, prurient excitement. It's going to come out again...

She snatched the cup from the sink and held it in front of her, clenching down with all of her might, holding her climax back for a few excruciating seconds before letting go, and the semen came spewing out as she squeezed her eyes tight, her mouth stretched wide open, screaming silently.

Samantha jacked herself off frantically, unable to concern herself with getting everything in the cup, instead focused on the way her cum gushed out, slopping all over her hand, hot, wet and sticky, the additional lubrication it provided as she smeared it all over her cock. The cords on her slim neck stood out as she continued to silently call out, repressing any sounds.

Her hand began to slow down as it worked back and forth, gripping herself tightly, milking her cock with grim, inexorable efficiency, squeezing out every last drop of seed, even as her body protested that the pleasure was too much to tolerate, the oversensitivity making it even greater.

And then finally, she gave herself one last hard stroke, a final small squirt of cum, a huge shiver running the length of her body, and Samantha gave out a shuddering exhale.

"Oh, that was good..." she whispered. "That was so fucking good..."

Samantha set the cup down on the sink. It was quite full, but she had sloppily splashed all over, trails of semen oozing down the side of it. With her need somewhat sated, she felt the shame and revulsion starting to creep back in, stronger and more genuine now, but then she looked up to see her reflection -- only this time she knew what she would see and she found that she welcomed it; a smoking hot blonde, large bust heaving, perspiration dripping down her pretty face, a wild, lust-filled looked in her blue eyes, and a huge shining cock in her hand, both covered in sticky cum.

Entranced, Samantha studied herself in the mirror for a while, catching her breath, before her hand began to move up and down again, and her dick twitched in anticipation as an indecent, excited smile spread across her full lips. She didn't look away from her reflection all the while.