Mia's Tentacle Growth Pt. 02

I lay there a while recovering from my orgasm before I rolled on my side, taking Amanda with me until we were face to face. There I kissed her and said: "Thank you. That was marvelous. But I am rude. I completely forgot to take care of you!"

Trying to rectify this situation I moved her arms around me and started to hug her into a loving embrace. I looked into her eyes and said "Don't worry. I will take good care of you".

With those words my tentacle started to glide down her hip and slip under the rubber band of her sweatpants. I started to move down her pants, lifting her up slightly to allow them to slide down. My little button started to push in between her legs, lifting the top leg up and angling it over my bare legs until Amandas artificial love tunnel was exposed.

I closed my eyes and started to kiss Amanda, slipping my tongue into her still slippery mouth. At the same time my little button started to glide up her legs towards her sex and started to caress her. It started to push in but quickly stopped when it encountered too much friction.

Even though I was unable to penetrate her from a lack of lubrication, it felt marvelous. The intimacy of hugging another body -- even an artificial one -- was exhilarating. The passionate kiss that I was planting inside her wet mouth where I was still able to taste the sweet musk of my tentacle from where I had cum only minutes before brought me to new heights. And the feeling of her sex -- even though I was not able to penetrate it -- made me almost cum right then and there.

I was rubbing myself all over Amanda, letting my little button slide over her entrance, her little artificial clitoris. Every now and then, I tried to gently push my tip into her, savoring the knowledge of where it was placed.

This must have felt good for Amanda as well because it did not take long for her to get dripping wet. Well ... something was getting wet. At that moment, I didn't really care where the lubrication was coming from. That was a morning ritual question. All I cared for was that my little button was slowly able to slide into Amandas' little hole.

I took things slow, exploring and savoring the feeling. I was able to feel the slightly ripped texture of her artificial pussy walls and how my little button was slowly pushing them apart to penetrate even further. I pushed in deeper past the ribbed texture into a smooth part of her love tunnel. I could feel a second tunnel converging with this one, assuming that this was where her backdoor hole would come out. I explored further but hit the end shortly after.

At first I was disappointed. My little button had been able to go in about one-third of the way. However, by now, I was deeper inside of Amanda than I could be with any real woman, so I suppose I had no business complaining. Yet I wanted more.

Rather than pushing further I started to draw in my little button while making sure not to leave her love tunnel. This made my little button get shorter but thicker. In a way, it felt like getting sucked into Amanda as my tentacle shortened and pulled the base of my clitoris closer to her sex.

By the time I was short enough to be fully inside of her, my little tentacle was stretching out Amanda quite a bit. I started to run my hands over her and was able to feel the thick bulge of my mutated clitoris inside of Amandas' tummy. For a moment I just lay there, caressing my clitoris through Amandas' skin.

"How do you like that?" I asked Amanda, "I bet this is the fullest you've ever been. Are you ready to cum for me?"

In my imagination, she nodded shyly, and I started hugging and kissing her once more as I began to thrust my hip into her and fuck her. In my imagination, I projected my feeling of approaching orgasm into Amanda, imagining her moaning into my mouth just as I was moaning into hers. I imagined her to rock her hips just as I was rocking mine.

By now, her artificial love tunnel was slippery, and I was able to glide around in her easily. In addition to thrusting into her, I started to wriggle around my tentacle, bulging her stomach this way and that. Finally, I exploded inside of her with a huge orgasm. Even through our hug, I could feel my little button spasming and jerking within her as my body rocked uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me.

I don't know how long I lay there in a tight embrace with Amanda, my tentacle fully in her body. Maybe it was an hour, maybe it was two. In that moment, being with and inside of Amanda was the most comfortable thing I could think of. And eventually, the pleasant aftertaste of my orgasm mutated into expectant arousal -- possibly fueled by the feeling of her little silicone pussy, which by now was undeniably moist and hot from the heat of my lust. It didn't take long until my hips started moving again, my mouth started kissing her again, and I started to whisper gentle encouragements to both Amanda and my little button again. And then I came again. And again. And again.

At some point, I fell asleep still in Amandas' arms and pussy, dreaming of her, feeling her at the same time.

At this point, it had become almost a tradition that my evening sessions would throw up questions to be answered during the following morning ritual. This time I had another question to explore: Why had it been so easy to slide into Amanda?

I vividly remembered how slippery her little hole had become and how at the time, I attributed it to Amanda being aroused. That was a bit silly in retrospect, isn't it? My little button was much more likely to be the source of the sudden lubrication than a silicone doll -- although I kind of liked the idea of arousing Amanda to the point of her coming alive and getting wet for me.

I probed Amandas' entrance with my fingers and could feel some residue of the slippery substance inside of her.

Next, I traced my fingers along my tentacle. Aside from some moist patches, where the juices from last night had pooled and not dried off completely, it was not noticeably different. I willed my little button to become wet for a full five minutes until I had to admit to myself that that was not doing anything.

Desperately, I tried to think back to the last evening. Maybe I could recreate the mental state I was in back then? I closed my eyes and imagined myself there in Amandas' arms, my little button on her entrance, desperate to get in. Unable to get in due to the dry silicone. The need to penetrate her. To slip into her ...

I felt something ticklish at the tip of my button, and when I opened my eyes, I was amazed to see that a drop of lubrication was running down its side. The glistening trail undoubtedly led to the very tip of my tentacle. I bent it towards my face, trying to observe it. There was no visible opening from which such a drop could have emerged. Yet it had.

Immediately, I got to work trying to mentally recapture the moment. Trying to recreate that feeling, to activate what surely must have been a new capability with a new unfamiliar set of muscles. To push out whatever this substance was. But nothing happened.

I tried a different angle. Maybe this was not something that I could make happen but a kind of subconscious reaction. My mind went back to the point of penetrating a dry Amanda. Of needing to slip my way into her waiting body. Of paving the way with some lubrication.

Right before my eyes, I could see a little hole open at the very tip of my little button to let out a drop of lubrication before it seamlessly closed again. Apparently, I was right -- my little button was able to provide its own lubrication when it needed to. Amazing!

The result of my successful experiment was just hanging there right in front of my face, tempting me right on the verge of dripping down. I couldn't help but stick out my tongue and let the little drop roll down onto it.

I took a moment to savor its taste by rolling my tongue back and forth in my mouth. The taste was familiar. It was sweet and musky. I had tasted it countless times before while falling asleep with my little button inside of my mouth. Maybe, it had been producing this liquid for quite some time already, and I just didn't notice it besides all of the slippery wetness of my mouth.

So that should have been it, right? New ability found; morning ritual concluded.

Well ... I wouldn't be me if I didn't try to take the experiment a step further. After seeing this drop produced by my tentacle and remembering just how wet Amanda had been the previous night, I wanted to know how much I could produce. Luckily, I still had a pack of condoms lying around from some earlier experiments. I slipped one onto my little button and rolled it down. It's always a little weird to see just the tip of my tentacle covered, but I guess I could pride myself in knowing that they just didn't make condoms large enough for me.

After giggling at this thought, I became serious and addressed my little button: "All right. Let's get you in the mood again."

After the previous thoughts, my tentacle was already in sex mode, and I started to imagine sliding into something yet again. It did not take long for a little bit of moisture to collect in the tip of the condom.

I didn't want to risk displacing the condom and thus decided not to penetrate something for a change but to use my hands to stimulate my tentacle. I slipped my hand underneath the now impressive girth of my little button and started caressing it. This soft localized touch had a whole different quality than the forceful penetration I was used to. It sent tickles up and down my tentacle.

Now that I recognized the feeling, I noticed that I was producing liquid a lot more frequently than I had anticipated. It usually coincided with the waves of pleasurable sensations that rolled through my appendage and resulted in pushing out another drop. It was literally like leaking precum.

Since I wanted to measure how much I could produce, I was not in a hurry to finish my exploration session. I took my time to tease out every drop by gently caressing every part of my tentacle, first with my fingertips and later also by kissing whatever parts I could reach. An impressive amount of liquid had started to fill the top of the condom and sloshed around with every movement.

Eventually I could not hold on anymore and needed to cum. My little button was already sensitive from the long edging session, and I had been on the brink of cumming for a while. All it took was took to send me over te edge was a flick of my tongue. And I was not prepared for what happened next.

This time I literally could feel the liquid shooting out of me. And I could also see it clearly before my eyes as a small quantity of my love juice started to shoot out of me and the condom tip bulged noticeably.

It was not quite as much as when a man cums - or maybe my expectations are just skewed by my experiences with watching porn. But after I finished, the tip of the condom was bulging up -- filled completely.

Apparently, I now was able to spew ... let's call it sperm.

The following days I became obsessed with my new ability. I can't tell you why, but the ability to produce tentacle juice turned me on to no end. Maybe it was just the fetishization of male orgasms and the seeming need to mark their territory by cumming on, under, in, and around everything possible that has been part of my porn-viewing habits for so long.

Whatever it was, my tentacle juice became the focus of my regular experiments. And as with my tentacle size, it seemed to still be in development. How do I know? Well ... I may now have a small kitchen scale next to my bed where I could measure the weight of my juice-filled condom every morning. And I may have added a new category to my tentacle-tracking app just to keep track of it. Maybe I should be embarrassed about that, but the ability to produce larger amounts of this stuff made me rejoice.

Of course, I also made sure not to neglect Amanda during that time. She was a regular part of my evening ritual now, and I usually ended up falling asleep snuggled up in her arms (and my little tentacle snuggled up inside of her).

Those moments in her arms, with my lips on hers, were the happiest I had felt in a while. While Amanda wasn't a real companion, being with her and playing with her felt strangely comforting and was doing wonders in combating the loneliness that had settled in after I had become more and more reclusive due to my fear of someone outside finding out about my little button.

This went on for about two weeks before I noticed the next change. As with all developments, it probably had been happening gradually, and I just took a while to notice. In fact, I had suspected it for a while. Whenever I tasted my tentacle juice, I had the feeling that it made me ... more sexual. It's hard to describe. I felt like I became more single-minded. More sensitive. More interested in sex.

After the initial suspicion, I became slightly afraid of manipulating my own mind in this way and started to avoid digesting any of the secretions of my little button. But ... I just had to know. So, I did what any responsible tentacle owner would do ... I took a day off work and experimented.

The experiment setup was as follows: digest a large amount of my tentacle juice and document what it does to me. Since it is hard to objectively measure horniness, I wanted to make sure to digest a large amount to maximize its effect.

Now I know what you're thinking: I was collecting amounts of my juice every morning, why did I not drink that. Well ... if you've ever given a blowjob with a condom on, you know the taste. I wasn't a fan of that rubbery oily taste and wouldn't drink syrup out of a condom, much less my own tentacle juice. I briefly considered using a glass to collect my juice, but the thought of collecting it over an hour or so and then drinking it didn't appeal to me either. For some reason, I had the conception that it would get stale and icky.

Luckily, my weeks of experimentation had taught me that I could increase the amount of tentacle juice I could squirt by taking my time and holding myself on the edge of orgasm for as long as possible. So that was my method of choice.

This morning I took my time. I ate breakfast, took a bath with Amanda (since I needed to clean her every day, I decided to pretend that we took a bath together instead), and listened to a bit of music. Then, when I felt nice and relaxed, I returned to the bedroom, undressed, and lay on the bed spreadeagled.

My little button was lying warmly against my cheek. By now, it was long enough to reach my face without any uncomfortable bending and stretching. I had decided to take it into my mouth and hold it there for the entirety of my session -- making sure I would always be ready to catch every drop of its fluid.

But first, it had to get into my mouth. I don't know why -- it certainly wasn't part of the experiment -- but I had decided that my mouth was to be an unwilling participant. My lips closed firmly as my little tentacle head brushed against them.

"You'll have to work for it today." I mumbled teasingly.

And work it did. My little button pushed against my lips, tried to pry away the top, then the bottom one, all without lasting effect. However, the feeling of forcefully trying to enter myself turned me on to no end and it wasn't long before my lips became slippery and keeping my little button away became hard. With one push, it parted my lips and slipped inside.

I could have continued resisting by biting together my teeth, but truth be told, the taste of my little tentacle was overwhelming, and I willingly opened my mouth and let out a moan. I hadn't tasted it for about a week, and that sweet musky taste was delicious.

I made a mental note to remember this later when evaluating this experiment, but for now, I wanted to have some fun. My button was in full sex mode, and any touch along its long, glistening surface would send shivers up and down its length.

It was hard to hold back. I wanted to suck on my tentacle head, to run my hands up and down along its shaft, to titfuck myself. But I knew if I did that, I would cum in no time. Instead, I lay there quietly, trying to come down from the initial high. Savoring the little drops of precum that my tentacle head let out every now and then.

When I was certain that it wouldn't immediately make me explode, I started slowly swirling around my tongue, then bobbing my head lightly. First slow, then faster and faster until I ... stopped. My little tentacle had only been inches away from bliss, and I knew that even a small pursing of my lips would have been enough to send it over the edge.

Again, I waited for it to calm down before I continued. This time with my hands, running my fingers along its shaft. Soon sensitive teasing turned into playing, then into stroking and I ran myself up and down the length of my tentacle until I ... stopped.

When it had calmed down again, I started to gently tease my nipples with my fingers. Then I lifted my arms and pushed together my breasts so that my little button could wriggle around between them. I pulled my arms around my body and started to wiggle around, both hugging my tentacle and letting it slide back and forth between my breasts. I moved my hips up and down, faster and faster, until I ... stopped.

This went on for about half an hour. Every time I felt I was right on the edge, I stopped and let myself calm down. After a while, it got harder and harder to calm down, and it got easier and easier to get myself to the edge.

By now, juice was literally dripping out of my tentacle and into my hot waiting mouth. Every near-orgasm would squirt a little amount of juice onto my tongue. My body was starting to feel hotter and hotter.

I don't know whether it was the edging or the effect of my tentacle juice, but eventually, I wasn't able to go back from the edge. There I lay, spreadeagled on my bed, my tentacle in my mouth, all of my body slightly slimy and sticky from the juices that were excreting all over my little button, trying to not move. Trying to not inadvertently send that last shiver down my button that would send it over the edge. And unable to calm down again.

That feeling was torture and bliss at the same time. And suddenly, I needed to cum! I needed to send myself over the edge! I needed to ravish this willing mouth of mine and fill myself up with my love juice.

So I did.

With one last effort of my arms, breasts, lips, tongue, and anything else I could stroke my little button with, I finally sent myself over the edge with an orgasm that rocked all of my body. My tentacle spasmed and squirmed around the inside of my mouth and let out the biggest load I had ever seen it squirt.

The sweet and musky taste flooded my senses and coated my mouth. I intentionally had not swallowed it yet and kept it in my mouth, sloshing around, some of it dribbling out from between my lips. I savored the taste until finally ... gulp.

That was when I knew that my experiment had succeeded. That feeling of almost being on the edge had not left me after my first orgasm. It had just become a pleasurable background sensation. But swallowing down my tentacle juice amplified that feeling. It felt like someone would gradually turn on the music. It became louder and louder over the span of a minute until I just ... came. No help needed.

I lay there, spasming from the feelings of my love juice; my tentacle came loose from my mouth and started to spew more of its juices onto my face, coating my cheeks and lips. My hands came up and rubbed my tentacle against my cheek. My tongue flicked out and tasted the sweet mess that had been made.

And still, it was not enough.

I looked around and saw Amanda, freshly cleaned and dried. Well, she wouldn't be clean for long as I pulled her towards me and shared a long gooey kiss with her.