Pink Juice

All too often my mind drifts to thoughts of Violet. Her kiss blossoms on my lips each time; soft and tingling; breaking easily into a vixen's smile. Everything is fizzing. I know exactly how tonight is going to go.

***

By some miracle the day passes. I leave on time, the door closing behind me before some colleague or other even finishes saying 'good evening'. I pick up takeout on the walk home and am eating it as I unlock my front door and jettison everything I don't need. I finish eating and take a quick shower before laying the towel out in preparation for... well...

I take a moment to hold the can in my hand, rotating it around and feeling its contents slosh around inside. It really is pink. There isn't any indication that the drink will affect me like it did. Just the illustration of the pink haired model looking enticingly up at me

A thought strikes me. Did Violet and her girlfriends know this drink would send me into a lustful frenzy? Is it just me, or does it work like this on everyone? Are they just giving them out knowing they're causing every drinker to masturbate as much as I did? I think back to how she'd been when I saw her and her friends earlier. She certainly seemed to know I'd been full of energy and felt good...

Oh god, does Violet know what I did last night? And what I'm going to do again?

I mean, surely almost all girls at least suspect the guys in their lives masturbate, just as we know they touch themselves too... An image comes readily to mind; Violet reclining in a pink bed, moaning in ecstasy with one hand coupling and fondling a breast wrestled from a bright pink bra and the other buried longingly in her matching panties. My cock nudges itself to life in my underwear. Yep. Definitely into this.

She knows. I know she knows. She probably knows I know she knows. But she does know. When she made me beg to kiss her she knew exactly what I'd done. I'm still not sure how I felt about that. Begging for it... It feels odd. Sort of a good odd, but not something I could pin down. I feel embarrassed, but that must surely be because her friends were there. It was for their benefit. I'm sure if she kissed me again it would be just as good, hell, it might be even better.

My dick asserts itself once again. OK, OK. Time to do this.

Click goes the ring pull.

Fizz go the bubbles.

The pink mist rises from the can again; now that I'm expecting it I find I welcome it.

That taste again, every bit as fresh as the first. The fruits, the spice, the fizziness. I tingle again, I feel warm. I wait for the pleasant arrival of my desire.

It doesn't take as long as yesterday, but that might be because I'm expecting it, and because I'm already at half mast. My cock is thick and firm in my hand and I'm teasing myself with some slow light tugs as I flip open the laptop.

Yesterday's search is still there. My dick throbs at memory and again at the new pink haired delights on display. It's handy that I didn't close the window. Acutally, a handy's not a bad idea. Search: pink hair handjob

First hit. Yeah. Definitely that one. The star looks so much like her; svelte and toned with lovely tits and pink pigtails. I watch and mimic her as she wanks her man with two expert hands, pumping him to full hardness, full wetness and full orgasm.

Sadly she doesn't seem able to conjure my warm load out of me as easily, as I enjoy the evening's first edge. My penis aches with hardness and strains for each touch, each pump and, of course, release. My bollocks fizz with potency as each downward motion brings a fresh hot tingling wave of pleasure radiating around my body.

I watch it again. It's absolutely doing it for me, this video, but I'm finding it more difficult than expected to get there. I edge four, five, six times, each of them amazing, but not quite getting there. I definitely want to cum to this video. And I'm going to. I pump harder and faster now, and tighter. My hand is a fist around my stiff prick. My teeth are gritted and my eyes are shut. With the sound of the handjob in the background a perfect vision of Violet swims into view. Of course it does.

Now she kisses me again, harder this time, maybe even a little cruelly. Now she reaches into my pants and draws me out. She knows what I'm doing, she knows I need it. This is her hand whacking me off now. She knows how to make a man cum. She's going to do it for me.

My balls run hot. Something behind them shunts into gear and a hot liquid need arises, and rises, and rises. In my mind's eye Violet kisses me once again, and now this time she's doing the begging;

"Give it to me!"

FUCK. A heavy liquid bliss shakes through my first as it launches itself into the air. OH FUCK.

She takes my cum from me in waves, some shooting several feet and some dribbling onto the back of her hand. She giggles lustily into my ear.

I rise a little from my stupor. There's cum on the laptop screen, and much more of it on the towel. I breathe four times before I'm calm enough to rise and get a tissue. The handjob video still plays trivially in the background.

My cock is still hard, just as expected, and not even remotely wilting or aching after that much lost load. Time for round two. I know what was wrong before, that scene wasn't anything nearly hardcore enough. Let's see some pussy. Search: pink hair fuck

Woah boy. Lots of hits. Lots of girls taking lots of dick. My own pulses playfully in my hand and a bead of precum emerges from the end. Yep, this is much better. I open eight or nine tabs this time and begin to stroke myself once again. I edge to a pink haired girl taking a dick in missionary, another in doggy, two more edges to a slut in cowgirl. This one crawls out from under her man to take his load in her mouth. This next one lies there as he pulls out to festoon her tits with his jizz. This last girl, a champion, whimpers whimpers whimpers and moans as she takes a creampie. Dirty fucking slut.

My edges are frequent now, cresting within me and climbing higher each time, but I must have watched at least two, maybe three hours of porn now. Why am I finding it so difficult? I'm so turned on!

My mouth is dry as I swallow - it's been open and panting all this time. OK. Time to take the next step. I don't normally do this but, desperate times and all that... and I am desperate to cum...

Search: pink hair anal

Oh gosh. Girls with pink hair really like anal apparently. It takes me almost no time at all to find one who looks really quite strikingly like Violet. Click play.

She's bent over on the bed facing the camera, she's smiling but she's nervous, it's clear. A shadowy figure stands behind her, lit amateurishly and cropped out of frame from the chest up. There's a deliberate movement and she gasps, looking back at him. Now back at the camera. Now her mouth drops open in shock. Pain. Agony. Now she grits her teeth and moves herself backwards onto him, her mouth opens again, in pleasure this time and her eyes roll back into her head. She thrusts into him. She rides him with that dick firmly in her most taboo place. Her moaning is guttural but oh so real. She wants this, she wants him inside her. She wants all of him inside her. Even.. even that...

I swear to god she says it:

"Give it all to me!"

And I do. My jizz erupts out of me like a hurricane. I spatter my cum halfway across the room, though I drown it out with noises that sound as dirty and desperate as those the model is making. Everything tingles and my skin flushes with pulsing pleasure. My eager cock twitches greedily, dropping another gobbet of semen onto my thigh.

It takes about two minutes to come down from this orgasm and when I've done so my cock is still hard. My whole body is raring to go. Whatever's in that drink is either magic or the greatest triumph of the sexual sciences. I pause to rehydrate and clean up the worst of my slime. Ugh. It feels like the best thing in the world until it's out.

My mind, already hazy, wanders off. Would Violet date me? I know I want it to happen, and I know she's kissed me - me, a man she's met twice and for less than ten minutes combined - but would it happen? I don't think many girls like Violet and her friends are brought back to apartments like mine; dingy, cramped and absolutely reeking of spunk. 'Yeah baby, come back to mine, I've got a special towel I use to mop my muck up.' Ugh.

But I want to try sex on this stuff. This pink juice. I want the stamina, recovery and power in this can and I want to give it to a woman. And yeah. Fuck it. I want that woman to be Violet. Why not? I resolve to both ask her out and acquire another can of this juice. If she truly does know its effects then surely she'll know my intentions...

I'm determined now, and my cock is too. It's meaty warmth fills my palm as with my other hand I reach instead for my phone. Unlock. Instagram. Search. Hey, it's worth a shot.

I'm not naive enough to merely search 'Violet', so I gamble with some hashtags;

#Promo

It's a good guess in that I do get some shots of promo girls but none of them is her and it's mainly violet coloured products

#Model

Lots of promo girls are models on the side, or actors or performers or something. It's a good bet. She's certainly beautiful enough. My dick gives up a little dribble of precum at the thought of her.

No, other models called violet, or something-violet, and some 3D renders of the character from the Incredibles movies.

#PinkJuice

No, no good at all. Just images with lots of violet and pink in them. She had said it was an experimental flavour, and if I recall correctly that was only the name she'd given to it. Ah well. What was the name of the company she and the girls were promoting for? My dick bobs a little remembering her and her friends' light playful giggles and flirting.

That was it! M&R. And yes, a quick look at the hashtag #MandR shows a whole load of cosmetics and similar products, and several being promoted by influencers and models and...

THERE.

Oh my god, it's her.

It's Violet, promoting, wow, she's even promoting a canned drink, though it seems to be a precursor to Pink Juice. She looks HOT. Flyaway pink hair is caught by the breeze and her smile catches the sunlight. As does the almost obscene amount of bare skin on display. What little there is of her that I can't see is barely hidden behind flashy branded skimpy clothing; short shorts and a tight vest top. The can in her hand is offset by her bright pink nails; she's absolutely living the brand.

I click through onto her profile, @Violet_hntrp. I guess Violet Hunter is her real name? And Oh. My. God.

I'm masturbating now. I mean I was anyway but now I really am. It's instinctual. How could it not be?

Jesus Christ she's beautiful. In every one of her pictures she looks a million dollars, and there are hundreds of them. To my perverted delight she is not at all shy about showing off her body. Not at all.

Bikini pics, obviously. Skintight lycra and yoga pants. A few promo modelling pics showing off some product or other, most of the M&R ones, and this is where things get interesting.

Unlike most people, most girls, there aren't pictures of cute outfits. No sundresses, no fancy wedding outfits, no lounging around in pyjamas pretending she woke up like this. No pictures of men either, which is a surprise, a relief and a surprise that it's a relief.

Instead, Violet's selfies and pictures are - it's hard to put it any other way - very sexy. Not 'I find them sexy,' more 'She's a sex model'

There she is in a French Maid's outfit. There she is dressed as a fantasy nurse. There a schoolgirl. And again actually. Wow, she seems to spend a lot of time dressed like that.

And there's just so much lingerie...

Who IS this girl?

I remember that she kissed me and gave me a drink that made me cum. I look back at her Instagram. If she's even half the temptress she appears to be I'm going to have the best sexual experience of my - or anyone else's - life.

My dick is so unbearably hard. It's a monolith standing proud between my legs desperate to be stroked. I do. It wants to be stroked harder. Faster. Harder still. More head play. Spread that precum around. Good. Get it sloppy. Harder. Harder. Pick up the pace. Not too fast. Let it glide. Let it glide. Let it eek out that edge from deep within you. Coax it out, up, gently now. Yes, that's it. Oh fuck yes. I can feel it. Faster. Tighter. A quick look at Violet's pictures. Oh fuck yes. Harder. Harder. Really pump for that cum now. Oh god. I can feel the heat, feel it rising. So hard. So hard now. Please. Please I need this. I want this. I want it now. Harder. Tighter. Harder. Please. Please. Oh god please let me cum now.

Nothing seems to happen. I stay just at the crest of my edge, seemingly unable to tip into blissful relief. Not one of her pictures seems to take me there. What the fuck?! Why can't I cum?! I want to so badly, it's not a libido thing.

OK, OK, I'm nearly there. I just need a bit more stimulation. Back to the computer. Search: cum begging compilation. Fuck yes.

The sound of hundreds of sluts fill my ears, each of them queueing up for one thing, desperate and begging for it. I want to cum, they want to be cummed on. Or in. Some of them aren't fussy. I half-watch dozens of cumwhores craving their sticky treats; to taste or be decorated in their man's release and to feel his passion rain down upon them, ruining their makeup. In my other hand I reopen Violet's page.

Fuck, I'm so desperate. Why can't I cum? I can feel the sperm boiling in my ballsack. It's ready, and so am I. It's an animal need, a primal force that needs to be buried in something soft, wet and feminine. Or - fuck it - just shot into the cold night air, I don't care. I just want release and relief.

I edge again. Futile, again. So close. It feels really good but it's not quite there. My dick trembles and I can feel my cum bubble up and down my shaft with each pump, but it never seems to make it to my weeping cockhead, always just shy of that point of no return where things get messy and I get satisfied.

Now I open one of Violet's pictures, a recent one I hadn't seen before. In this picture, dated December 2022 she's in a slutty Santa's Helper outfit. Fuck, she looks hot. Candy cane striped stockings, red heels, matching corset and Santa hat. Under a tiny joke of a skirt you can even see her suspender belt and her crimson underwear... Sweet fucking hell. No way she's not on the Naughty List.

Come on! Come on! Edge again! Again! Come on! I need this! Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME! In the background the pornstars are saying much the same thing. I feel it happen again, my balls contract sending the hot liquid thundering up me once again.

And, thank god, it begins to snow. Finally. The moan that escapes me over ragged gasps is nothing compared to the hot load I'm spraying, my balls finally giving it up and letting me slip shaking into warm gooey euphoria. My whole body shivers with escaping lust and I open my eyes to see I've fallen onto all fours, cock still hard in my hand and my right knee disgustingly resting in one of my cooling milky puddles. That took a lot out of me. Literally.

I lean back against the chair, cum dripping from my penis and the fingers around it. I'm in a cloudy daze of orgasm still, this drink seems to elongate that feeling too. My heart is going ten to the dozen and I have a vacant, stupid smile on my face. It takes me about 8 minutes for my body to return to something approaching normal, then clean up; shower, deep scrub; towel thoroughly into the laundry. Yeegh.

As I lie in bed I think back to what I've just done. It's not good. What am I becoming? Five loads in two days for the same girl. She begged me to kiss her. The thought twitches my dick back to life again and I roll over in exhaustion. The residual fog of the Pink Juice clouds everything, but again sleep must have taken me at some point.

***

Alarm. Teeth. Coffee. Shower again, it just feels right. Clothes. Bag. Shoes. Jacket.

I look back at the room again, two empty cans of Pink Juice now sit at opposite ends of the table; if you knew what it did and read the room wrong you'd think there'd been an orgy. It would explain the cum streaks I'd clearly neglected to clean off the wall. Jesus Christ, what's in this stuff?

I feel drained, half the man he used to be. Pulling my jacket up around me again I lock up and leave. Will I see Violet again today? I find myself hoping so more and more with each step.

In a daze I reach the special place. The place where I can see the woman of my dreams. Violet waits patiently, smirking. "Hey there Charlie, you look fantastically eager. I hope it's for another kiss and not another can?" No time to answer. I stumble forwards, helplessly going in for a kiss and she accepts!

A ten second eternity of making out later she breaks away; "I can see you're all worked up right now, but do you want another can?" I nod shyly. "Awww sweetheart, I thought you would, but I have some bad news. The price for cans jumped up. You see, I'm afraid that I love a particular type of man. Are you familiar with the term femboy? It's a type of guy who's ok expressing his feminine side. And this..." she points up and down at his clothes. "This is not really doing it for me." She reaches into her bra and pulls out a bank card of some sort and hands it to me, looking me right in the eyes.

"Go into that store. Buy yourself a cute pair of panties. Put them on. Then come back and show me. This store card has plenty on it to buy you anything your little coc- um, heart desires. And before you have second thoughts I'd like to tell you more about this drink. It's a bit addictive. Actually it's very addictive. If you don't get another can there could be some serious problems and you definitely don't want that to happen. So why don't you just do this simple task for me, and we won't have to quibble?"

'H-hang on. Wait. Stop. What? What the fuck? You want me to go to that store and buy panties? And you've made me drink something addictive?!'

Violet simply giggles. "I may have oversold it. Mildly addictive. All caffeine is though." She gives a wink. "But yeah, Charlie, you heard me right. I like you, I really do. I need to know you're worth my time, though. I need to know you can make some small sacrifices. Let your guard down. Try new things with me." She pauses and I imagine some of the 'new things' we might try together, but she continues;

'Alpha men are so gross, with their big egos and lack of flexibility. What women like these days are men of intelligence and sensitivity, willing to listen, learn, understand and make changes when necessary. Not just stomping around angry and swearing.' She points an accusatory finger at me almost as if she'll boop my nose.' I just want to see if you're what I need to be compatible. And of course, you'll also get your lil' caffeine hit. So. Do you want to be here with me? Or stomp off like a sad puppy?"

It's too much to process. I can barely think. My mind is filled with fluffy pink veil. She likes me?! Holy fuck, she likes me! She taps a finger to her lips expectantly, watching me think it over. It's a struggle. The girl behind her watching like a pack of giggling hyenas ready to strike. 'Um...'

'Um what silly?' she teases. 'I, um, I want to be with y- to be here with you, Violet.' Shit, I've said it now.

'I thought so!' She hands me the card. I'm still too mesmerised to resist and feel my hand close around it in acceptance. It's still warm from being in her bra. I shiver, feeling the second-hand body heat from her breasts. Through the daydreaming I hear myself begin to speak..'Um, th-thanks... but I, um, I have to go to work now...'