Losing it Ch. 02

Chapter 2⸻Butter Cream

I don't mean to downplay the dramatic soliloquy that capped off the last chapter, but my "prowling" lasted about as long as it took me to stand up and feel the lukewarm cum-balloon hanging off my dick, bouncing across my soaking thighs. There's a line between "afterglow" and "disgusting". That line is about five minutes.

I sloughed it from my soggy wood, tied it off, and set it aside. I was starting to understand what Millie meant about it being a mess. My lower half couldn't have been wetter if I'd been wading through a swamp, and I wasn't even sure what kind of juices I was marinating in. Judging by the sizable stain she'd left on the side of the couch, I assumed her jizz was the culprit currently soaking through my socks. Beyond that? No idea.

My panties squished and stuck to my skin as I rolled them down my legs, followed by my skirt. My sneakers made some wet squeaks as I tried unsuccessfully to kick them off. Cursing my decision to wear canvas, I gave up and bent over to untie the soggy laces. Slipping them off, I sat back on the couch to peel my thigh-highs off, which left me with only my unmatched bra and slightly-damp white T. Sufficiently de-grossed, I marched towards the kitchen.

I didn't have much of a plan at that point. I'd have probably gotten lost if Millie wasn't so loud. Between the occasional asthmatic snort and her gigantic flat feet slapping the kitchen tile, it sounded like she was getting ready to go snorkeling or something.

I followed the sound of clinking glasses and cabinets in motion to the spacious kitchen and peered around the corner to survey the scene. Millie seemed to have been addressing a similar problem to my own, as her spats and skirt were tossed into the small laundry room just off the other side of the kitchen. She was filling a pitcher of ice water from the refrigerator door, having prepared a couple of glasses and a cute little tray to carry it all on. Dorky move, but almost dorky enough to be kind of cute.

Perfect. I had it all planned out. Stroll up with a nice little sway in the hips, give her a little shove against the fridge, and put some neck on that fat prick. No bullshit. Just going to get what I wanted.

Just as I got close, Millie turned around—looking at the glass instead of where she was going—and ran into me with the reaction times of a drunk sloth.

I shut my eyes and took a few deep, shivering breaths through my nose as the icy cascade rolled over me. Cold water dripped off my chin and down the front of my shirt. My nipples were hard enough to cut glass.

Millie didn't move a single muscle for about five seconds while a frigid puddle formed at my feet, maybe hoping I operated by Jurassic Park rules or something. When I opened my eyes and stared daggers, she sprung into action and tried to slip past me like you might an aggressive stray.

"I—I'll um... I'm sorry... I'll get you a-uh... towe—EEP!"

"G-g-give me your f-f-f-fucking shirt..." I shivered, clutching her wrist.

Millie had her big stupid anime shirt off in a frankly astonishing amount of time, which my frigid digits could not match. The wet fabric stuck to my chilled skin, and the impromptu ice bucket challenge certainly didn't help my manual dexterity.

"H-h-h-elp me g-g-et this—" I whined, lifting my arms.

Luckily, Millie got the idea before I finished. She rolled the wet fabric over my head and unhooked my bra with a similar speed. Even though it smelled like virgin sweat, the body-warm T-shirt felt like heaven on my frigid skin as she slipped it over. I sighed in slight relief, crossing my arms over my chest as I shivered.
Truthfully, I wasn't trying to be sexy or anything—I was fucking freezing. However, the twitch in the simp's pachydermous appendage was more or less inconcealable as my body shook, stiff nipples tenting the fabric.

Millie stood there, awaiting further instruction. It was the first time I'd seen her fully nude, and I was a little surprised. I know it might be obvious, but Millie's choice of clothes hadn't done her any favors. She was a lot skinnier than I'd assumed, not to mention surprisingly lean for someone who hadn't spent more than an hour outside since boybands were cool. Her skin was a little dry and splotchy, but nothing a skincare routine couldn't fix. She had a bit of a pear shape to her—with a shapely ass that almost didn't fit on her tall, skinny frame.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing that didn't fit. God, it was fucking gargantuan. She wasn't even hard yet, and it was halfway to her knees. As I watched it engorge—the horny nerd trying and failing to keep it under control—there was at least one part of my body that didn't feel so cold anymore.

It became pretty obvious that Millie was firmly on the T-side of the T&A debate as her dick continued to swell, her reddening face and throbbing chub playing a rather amusing tug of war for all of the blood in her body. In all fairness, my tatas are in the 99th percentile, and she hadn't gotten to see them yet.

As my arousal returned, the magnetic pull of her freakish moose cock became difficult to tug my eyes away from. We both stared at each other's "gifts" for a sufficiently embarrassing amount of time, both trying to pretend we weren't.

"M-Millie? C-could you hold m-me?" I finally asked, a little more earnestly than I'd have liked.

"H-huh?" Millie muttered as if she might have misheard me.

Wait, why was I asking?

"I'm cold. Hold me."

Millie obeyed, approaching me with her arms out cautiously. I turned my back and pressed against her as she wrapped around me. We leaned back against the countertop.

Have you ever realized something obvious? Something you knew on a basic level, but didn't fully comprehend, for some reason? Because it only really hit me after I felt her extra-prominent chin on the top of my head, and her giant harpy claws close around my body: Millie was kinda... bigger than I was. In more ways than one.

Like... I mentioned before that she was sort of tall, but it kind of weirded me out how tall she suddenly felt. Despite my best efforts, a raunchy daydream wedged itself into my mind—Millie pushing me over the table and cramming her beastly fucklog up whatever hole gave in first, despite my various protests and verbal abuse.

I'd be all like, "Keep that disgusting ogre dong away from me!", and she'd be like... breathing heavy and pinning me down. Rubbing her meat against my sloppy cunt. I'd kick around a bit until I felt her start rearranging my guts. I'd fight and scream in vain, my hungry pussy squeezing her like an obedient cock sleeve, my traitorous cock happily shooting ropes with every thrust, trapped between my restrained body and the cold, wooden tabletop.

Obviously, if she had tried to force herself on me in real life, they would've never found her body. Nonetheless, the fantasy was proving to be something of a brain-worm, and it was making me embarrassingly horny. It was time to take the initiative.

I grabbed her hands and put them over my breasts. Millie exclaimed softly, caught completely off guard. Her hands trembled but sat otherwise frozen in the positions I'd put them. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to take the hint, I pushed her fingers down into the soft flesh.

Millie finally started massaging the girls of her own accord, as one of the horniest sounds I've ever heard rolled out of her—somewhere between a groan, a sigh, and a grunt.

"Mmmm... your hands are warm..." I leaned back against her and draped my arms around her shoulders.

As she grew bolder, her breathing became heavier, saturated with want. Not that I needed another sign or anything. I felt every beat of her heart through the throbbing leviathan between my legs, slowly lifting my own equipment aloft as it rose to attention. I bit my lip, finding it difficult not to stare as want saturated me in kind. Every twitch sent a heatwave through my core.

"Enjoying second base, Millie?" I teased, looking back to caress her neck. "They're pretty warm now... I think they might be hard for a different reason..."

"C-Can I touch them... under?" Millie stuttered, practically begging with her eyes.

I put a finger to my lips, and hummed playfully, considering the request.

"Well, you can stay on second if you like..." I lifted the hem of the shirt to my collarbone, exposing my bare breasts as well as my cold-shy cock resting atop hers, "...but there's something on third that could use some warming up too..."

Most of Millie stood frozen as she stared hungrily down my body. The prospect of having to choose made her little incel brain misfire. Her bloated prick was once again the odd one out, jumping and swelling between my thighs.

"Pweeeeeaaaaase, Miwwie. My widdwe peepee's so cowd..." I leaned back into her and nuzzled her neck, batting long eyelashes over puppy dog eyes.

Again, Millie showed hesitation that didn't seem to reach her crotch. The thing was so hard that it was turning purple. She probably realized that I was making fun of her, but if her body language was anything to go by? It didn't matter. My little tease in uwunese pushed more than a few of the right buttons, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Extremely cringe, but I can't say it was at all off-brand for Ms. Cheese.

"Pwease, Cheesu-senpai? You'we big gowiwwa hyands awe so stwong and wawm! Pwease wub it bettew!" I whined, running my long nails softly down her neck.

My smug snicker barely passed my lips before I found my ass pressed against the cold, granite countertop, a harpy talon on each knee pushing them apart. The weighty thump of Millie's anaconda dropping onto my pelvis echoed through my bones and deep into my guts.

It was like things happened in slow motion. Her engorged tip smashing my cold-shrunken softie against my skin. The copious drizzle of warm precum from hers that smothered mine. The moan that escaped my lips—Soft. Lustful. Submissive.

Honest.
"I'ww geddit nyice and wawm, Mia-chan..." Millie smirked back, with a playful giggle.

"H-hey, easy. Hold on a min—" I began to protest, the swiftness of her repositioning taking me aback.

Her dripping, throbbing cock left a fucking snail trail up my tummy. By the time our hips were level, the thing was bumping the bottom of my tits. Her pussy didn't even get to my quickly engorging cock before it happened.

...

I came. I wasn't even completely hard. I squealed like a giddy whore and blew my load all over myself. I nutted my entire soul out before she finished a single thrust.

"O-Oh, wow..." Millie laughed nervously, surveying the pearly ropes I'd painted onto her, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were that close. A-are you um... into that? Rubbing them? I-I've never done it before..."

I had never been more embarrassed in my life. I was milliseconds away from letting the words, "this never happens," pass my lips. I caught myself just in time—thank god—but just the fact that they were on the tip of my tongue filled me with shame and disgust.

I blew my load at the first touch under the shirt... and she laughed at me. She gave me the "it happens to everybody" look and pulled our sticky bits apart with another nervous giggle.

"S—...shower," I muttered, unable to look at her.

"O-oh! Y-you can use the one in my room... it's downstairs. I-I'll get the towels out of the dryer... and put our clothes in," Millie stumbled, her brain moving faster than her mouth could match, "I'm s-sorry about that... by the way."

"No p-problem..."

...

What the fuck was I doing!? Slinking off to the shower? Washing my shame while she fetched me a hot towel? I came in here to show her who was the head bitch in charge here, and I was NOT going out like that.

Look, I messed up. I got myself worked up with my salacious little daydreams, and that was a mistake. When she caught me by surprise and took charge a little bit, all that fantasizing worked against me, and it overwhelmed me. That's all. I had to fantasize about her being better at sex to get off. I made myself cum, not her.

I grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back into the counter.

"On second thought..." I teased, smearing the leaking precum around her fat cock head, "...If I'm about to shower anyway, there's no harm in making a little mess, right?"

Millie shook her head, very eager to see where I was going with this. I smirked and wrapped my fingers around the shaft. After a few tentative strokes, precum steadily drooled over my fingers and further down. She braced herself against the counter, her knees a bit wobbly.

"Gross," I scoffed, resting my other elbow on the counter. "Does this thing do anything but leak?"

Millie blushed. It took her a beat or two to get control of her vocal cords before she finally spoke. I slouched over in the meantime and put my chin in my palm, lazily jerking her with the other. I tried to play it off like I was bored, but I really couldn't take my eyes off it. The size, the shape, the constant ooze, and occasional squirts of precum from the tip—It all gave me goosebumps.

"S-sor—ry," she panted, "L—little.. p-p-pent... up."

"Pent up?" I laughed, "You came like... 20 minutes ago, dumb ass."

She shook her head.

"Uhhhh...?" I scoffed, "Like, I saw the splotch you left on the couch, Millie."

She shook her head again. Starting to get a little frustrated, I stopped stroking and picked my head off my palm.

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"O-Oh I did cum, but I didn't... y'know," She trailed off, hoping I'd fill in the blanks myself.

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms to make it clear that I would not. She looked at the ground for a second.

"I um... I only came with my... y'know... from inside... just m-my...XX parts?"

"So you're telling me you only came with your pussy?" I grumbled.

"R-right..." She nodded, "I didn't... ejaculate..."

"Shut the fuck up..." I put my face in my hand with a derisive chuckle.

"I-is that not how it works for you?"

The answer was no, but I chose to dodge that particular question with a roll of my eyes.

"So what was all over the side of the couch then?"

"U-um... well..." Millie didn't finish her sentence. She just looked slowly over at the tip of her leaky pipe drooling precum all over the floor. "It's a lot messier than that when I... y'know... I told you that on the couch..."

Now I was mad. I'd blown my load three times, and she hadn't even shot one? No way. The bitch was lying through her teeth. She had to be... and I figured there was a fairly simple way to prove it. I whipped her shirt from my chest and got down on my knees.

"Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?"

I cupped a breast in either hand, giving them a playful bounce. Millie's drizzle became a squirt at my teasing, laying a light glaze of precum across my chest.

"I was gonna ask if you like big tits..." I giggled, slowly pressing her between my breasts, "...but I guess—"

"I-I'll beg if you want..." Millie cut me off with a look of impatience and desperation"...just please k-k-k—keep going... I want i-i-it so bad."

That was a really good answer. Not only did it feed my ego, but her cute little red cheeks were doing it for me too.

"Aren't you gonna hold my hair back?" I smiled.

Millie wasted no time in gathering my dark hair in her hand and holding it behind my head.

As much as I enjoyed the teasing—and the visible effects it had on her—the truth was that I couldn't stand it anymore either. That big, juicy dick in my face was like a bell to Pavlov's dogs.

I pushed my breasts together around her leaking tip and slid them down her length. The head emerged from between them, her foreskin slowly peeling back as I went further down.

"Ahhh..." I teased, letting my tongue roll out as I opened my mouth wide. Before she could even open her mouth to speak, I stuffed her uncovered tip into my mouth.

Millie screamed in ecstasy. My tongue unleashed a frenetic assault on her sweet spots as I started to move—stroking her shaft with the one part of my body it didn't completely dwarf. I think her nerd brain overheated for a second or two because she got really quiet for a second.

"M-Mia... I-I..."

I looked up at her with a flirty wink.

"Y-your mouth... u-um... I don't—"

I gathered the sweet stream of precum on my tongue and pushed her cock to the back of my throat so she could feel me swallow it.

Does having your soul sucked out count as a religious experience? 'Cause my girl was speaking in tongues. She babbled my name a few times, but the rest was pure gibberish with a backtrack of steamy panting and concupiscent moans.

The telltale twitches of impending orgasm rippled through her, endurance eroding like a sandcastle at high tide. I felt the thick globs pumping up her distended shaft. Her head fell back; eyes fluttered closed as she braced her wobbly legs against the cabinets.

My eyes popped open as the first of her release splattered across my tongue and into the back of my throat. It became very clear what she was babbling about. I regretted not heeding the warning.

"Ohhh goooooddd... M—Mia... hnn—"

Millie's orgasmic moans grew quiet as she scrunched her face in poorly-restrained rapture, completely overwhelmed with sensation.

A soft gurgling sound reached my ears. Was that her stomach? I guess we hadn't had anything to ea—

A deluge of thick, greasy spunk flash-flooded my face. My jaw creaked as she stuffed my cheeks near to bursting.

Feeling the third wave bubbling up her shaft between my tits, I tried to gulp down what I had in my mouth. After I had the realization that the viscous lump was too congealed to swallow without fucking chewing it or something, I struggled to free myself, but the hand holding my hair back may as well have turned to stone.

I tapped out against Millie's thigh to try and get her attention. Given the brain-melting orgasm she was having, she didn't seem to notice at all, unfortunately. I flinched for the next shot like a punch. Millie moaned happily, completely oblivious.

"I—I can't believe you're... swallowing... NNNNGH—"

She bucked her hips a single time. Her cockhead battered its way to the back of my throat. I gagged as the wad I'd been unable to swallow was forced down my gullet like a slimy musket ball, and again as her fourth shot set off the gunpowder.

I stopped counting after that. It was like a low-grade power washer deep cleaning my tonsils. I gagged. My makeup ran. My eyes watered. I swear to god even my ears popped. Her backed up baby gravy leaked and squirted out of my mouth, down my throat, out my nose—There are probably socially awkward sperm swimming around in my cerebrospinal fluid to this day.

Look, I know I'm being wildly hyperbolic about this, but I need you to understand: Mildred Agnus Cheese is a goddamn monster—a vile homunculus clearly assembled on a slab by needle-dicked mad scientists to cull the population of all size queens like me so they can finally get laid. They combined the unassuming form of a pizza-faced, knock-kneed stork with the sex organs of a small fucking whale. The perfect assassin.

The point is that she blew like a geyser filled with tapioca pudding. I coughed and gagged as opaque, off-white slime forced its way into (and out of) every orifice on my face. I'm surprised it didn't start running out of my tear ducts at any point.

By the time it finally started to taper off, I had gotten a little light-headed. Millie pulled my lips off her cock, and a cascade of viscous nut rolled out of my overstuffed throat and down my body.

Millie pressed my boobs together and shot the remainder of her load fucking them with clumsy, uncoordinated thrusts. She giggled blissfully to herself, painting a few extra stripes across my face before her climax finally subsided. I swear this stuff was so thick that it barely even dripped. It stuck to my face like half-dry glue, pasting one of my eyes shut.