Something in the Water Pt. 11

"I'm glad you called the meeting. Where's Roy?" David looked down at his skinny friend.

"I don't think he's coming. You still want him here?" Patrick adjusted his glasses, and leaned on the bookshelf near David.

"If he wants to apologize, fine. But if not ..." David shrugged. "Anyway we have to talk."

"I --"

"Let me talk first." David held up his finger to silence his friend. "I should have told you while ago. You know that doll that popped my cherry." David looked around, but the library was mostly empty this time of day and they had rows and rows of books between them and anyone in the front of the room.

"Yeah." Patrick nodded and folded his arms, trying to look hip and with it.

"It was my mom."

"Shit, I knew it." Patrick hadn't known it. But he probably should have.

"It was the sweat thing, like Roy said." David looked out the window, not wanted to look into his friends magnified, brown eyes.

"All the way?" Patrick's cheeks flushed.

"All the way and then some." David nodded.

"My mom jumped me last night, but we didn't go all the way." Patrick looked out the window too. "And then my sister hopped in the shower with me this morning. But we didn't go all way."

"Sally?" David gave a low whistle. "But she's married."

"Well, so's my mom. And so's your mom." Patrick frowned. "And so's Donna."

"My mom's been bringing women home to stay in Ryan's old room." David smiled a little to himself. "She's brought two home so far."

"You go all the way with them?" Patrick watched out the window. Mrs. Rodgers exited the school out of a side door, looked around several times and then jogged across the side lawn.

"Fifty-fifty." David squinted as he watched the blonde teacher move. She jiggled and bounced awkwardly in her tight swing dress and high heels. "My mom's breasts are making milk and she's using it to seduce these women. The preacher's wife did it too with her milk. She seduced some scientist lady."

"Jesus." Patrick shook his head. That was a new twist.

"Yeah, my mom thinks it's Jesus. But I'm pretty sure it's not." David's eyes followed Caroline Rodgers as she arrived at the equipment shack, looked around again, and then slipped inside. "How much you want to bet that Roy is giving it to his mom." David's mouth turned down in disgust, but his dick swelled a little thinking of the trim, classy Mrs. Ackerman giving in to her rude, fat son.

"Speak of the devil." Patrick watched Roy exit that same side door and head over the lawn directly toward the shack. "He's doing Mrs. Rodgers isn't he." Patrick could see the sweat glistening off Roy's chubby cheeks, even from all that distance. The dark-haired boy got to the equipment shack and slipped in.

"I think so." David stared at the shack, thinking about what was almost certainly going on inside. "What do we do, Pat?"

"Well, maybe we track the meteor to its impact site. Then we can get to the bottom of all this." Patrick took a deep breath. "Moms, sisters, investigators, milk, and meteors. I'm not sure how to sort this all out without finding the source."

"I don't want to go back to way things used to be." David looked back at Patrick.

"Me neither, Pal. But someone has to get to the bottom of this. We're the last line of defense." Patrick looked back up at David. He could feel a nervous tick pulling at his right cheek. He'd just had to process a ton of shocking news. Or, more correctly, news that would have been dumbfounding a few weeks ago, but in the moment seemed almost inevitable.

"Okay, I'll help when I can. But I'm really busy right now."

"With what?" Patrick pulled his glasses up and down his nose. "Oh." He stopped and shoved the frames up where they belonged. "You mean ..." Patrick's cheeks went to a deeper shade of red. "Well ... well ... I guess if you need to spend time with your mother." It was the wrong thing to say on so many levels. "Just be ready, if I need some help. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure, Pat." David looked back at the shed.

"Thanks, David." Patrick looked back at the shed too.

Both boys thought about what sort of perversions Roy must be committing in there with their young teacher.

~~

"This one's no good for long-distance either." Ed Reynolds slammed the payphone down and the clank echoed back to them from the store fronts on the other side of the street.

"What are we going to do, Agent Reynolds?" Helen Bales hugged her skinny frame tight. Her messy brown hair fell over half her face. Her blue dress was wrinkled and carelessly buttoned. She wasn't used to desperation.

"Excuse me." A smiling, middle-aged woman walked up to them and stood with her hands clasped. Her green housedress was perfectly pressed and her hair neatly coifed. "I couldn't help but overhear you. My long-distance is working perfectly. I just hung up with my sister in Chicago not five minutes ago."

"Okay?" Ed watched the woman suspiciously through his sunglasses. Something nagged at Ed. This woman was somehow familiar.

"You look like a nice young couple. You can use my phone if you need to." The pretty woman smiled at them.

"Oh, we're not a --" Helen said before Ed cut her off.

"Thank you, that would be most helpful." Ed looked at Helen with a slightly raised brow. "Wouldn't it, honey?"

Helen was just a secretary. She wasn't used to all this field work. "Yes?"

"My name's Marigold," the helpful woman said. "And you are?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds." Ed didn't much like using this woman's phone, but she seemed harmless enough.

Ed and Helen followed Marigold off the main street, down a few side streets, up a walkway, and into a modest bungalow.

"Wait by the door, honey." Ed left Helen just inside the front door and followed the woman into the kitchen.

"Okay." Helen watched them go. She looked around her. It was a neat, orderly house. She couldn't hear Agent Reynolds, but he was probably whispering in his report to headquarters. She wandered into the open living room. The tick-tock of the mantle clock kept steady rhythm. In the corner of the room sat a fine, old sideboard. Sticking out from underneath the closed sideboard doors, Helen could see green fabric identical to the dress Marigold was wearing. Strange.

Helen looked around, but no one was about. She walked up to the sideboard, bent down, and carefully opened one of the doors. Helen's breath caught in her throat. Gagged and bound and uncomfortably stuffed inside the sideboard was the exact woman that had brought them to this house. Unconscious as she was, this Marigold had her eyes closed.

"Oh, my gosh," Helen whispered. She quickly closed the door and backed away from the sideboard.

"It's such a nice living room, isn't it?" Marigold's cheery voice suddenly filled the room.

Helen gave a little shriek and turned around. "Um, yes." Helen trembled all over. For some reason, her vagina wettened considerably when she saw the duplicate housewife standing there. "Where's Agent ... I mean, where's my husband?"

"He's getting ready for his swim, dearie." Marigold stepped into the room and started unbuttoning her dress.

"What?" Helen took a step back but paused. She didn't want to get any closer to that sideboard. Her heart thumped in her chest.

"In a little bit, he'll take a long swim." Marigold advanced further, her buttons now down halfway, exposing the pale skin on her chest and her supportive bra.

"I don't want to go for a swim." Helen shivered again. Unconsciously, her arms moved from their folded position over her chest and she cupped her small breasts with her hands.

"Don't worry, you're not heading for the lake. My master has other plans for you." Marigold's voice continued to be so chipper and friendly. She pulled off her dress and stood before Helen.

"Oh, my gosh." Helen's jaw dropped. The middle-aged woman had quite a normal body, except her panties were torn and pushed aside as a giant penis grew from her crotch. The thing was long, curved upward, and dripped fluid continuously from the head. Beneath it there hung two dangling balls. The fat sacks repeatedly compressed and relaxed as if in a constant state of pumping. Helen had never conceived of such a thing, but it was now the most compelling sight she'd ever witnessed. Helen needed that cock inside her like she had needed nothing else in her erstwhile boring life.

"I should tell you, dearie. I am not Marigold." Not-Marigold stepped up to the brunette and tore Helen's blue dress from her body with a loud rip. "I am Smith and soon you will know your place here in Portsmith."

"No," Helen could only whisper. She stood before this monstrosity in only her underwear, trembling.

Ten minutes later, Helen found herself bent over the couch while the older woman, now called Smith, rammed her huge penis deep into Helen's womb from behind. "What ... ah ... ah .... Have you done ... to me?" Helen shrieked and brayed as Smith stretched her out. She wondered if Agent Reynolds could hear her participate in this most unnatural mating.

"It is a gift I bring." Smith still sounded as chipper and amiable as she had when she called herself Marigold. "You will now join us."

"Please ... don't ... oooohhhhhhhh." Helen could feel the penis erupting, spraying molten seed inside her. The last coherent thought she had before her mind drifted off in euphoria was that she was somehow going to have another woman's baby.

~~

Donna sat in her car in the parking lot as school was about to let out. Here she was, an accomplished paranormal investigator, wife to the indomitable Mark Farmer, waiting in a line of cars to pick up a high school senior that she, maybe, had started thinking of as her boyfriend. She rubbed her thighs together. Even without any of the mysterious sweat effect, her pussy was wet and ready for the teenager.

The bell rang and Donna pulled the rearview mirror down a little so she could see her reflection. Her makeup was subtle and effective. Her freckled face looked clean and fresh. Her copper hair was pulled neatly back into a ponytail. Everything looked good. She wondered for how long she'd look clean and fresh. Not long she guessed. She adjusted her black-framed glasses and looked back at the school's doors. A flood of students burst out and into the parking lot.

Within the stream of students, she spotted Patrick and waved. The blue stone in her wedding ring glinting in the afternoon light. Patrick saw her and his little, charming face lit up like the Fourth of July. He ran over to her car, opened the door, and hopped in. He tossed his backpack into the back seat.

"Wow, Donna, you look beautiful. I missed you." Patrick sat in the seat, his hands in his lap, with all the energy of an eager puppy.

"I missed you too, my lord." Donna could see that he was a bit shy, so she leaned over to give him a little hug.

"My lady." Patrick mistook her gesture and planted his lips on hers. They were quickly necking and rubbing their hands over each other's bodies. Their glasses clinked together on their faces.

The car's windows didn't have time to fog up, however, as some angry parent honked her horn at them from behind. Donna pulled away from Patrick, smoothed out her dress, and put the car in gear. "What do you have planned for us, Junior Investigator?"

"I have a lot to tell you, Donna," Patrick said. "Let's go somewhere and talk. Maybe the lake again?"

"No, I don't want some hiker to spot us." Embarrassment tried to seize her as she thought of who might have seen them in the school parking lot moments ago, but she shrugged it away. "I reserved a room at the hotel this morning, just in case. Let's go there." She glanced over at him.

Patrick nodded with enthusiasm. He'd never thought he'd be with a woman who could buy them a hotel room. That was so cool.

A little later, Donna pulled Patrick by the hand through the hotel's back parking lot. "Mark isn't supposed to leave his room while I'm gone, but knowing him, he might." Donna looked back at Patrick with a worry line running down the middle of her forehead. "So, I rented a room on the other side of the hotel. And we'll go in the back entrance." Her shoes clicked on the pavement as she walked briskly.

"Sure thing." Patrick's gaze kept shifting between Donna's bouncing red hair, her exposed calves, accentuated by her knee-length hemline and kitten heels, and her round butt, rolling under her tight skirt. "I really think I love you," he whispered.

"Enough with that talk." Donna pulled him in the back door, pulled the key from her purse, and dragged Patrick into room number forty-two. They were both starting to sweat after the hurried walk to their room. "Here we are." She closed the door behind them and tried to lead Patrick over to the chairs so they could talk. But she felt his strong, small hands on her hips, then pressing against her boobs through her blouse, and finally spinning her around and holding her against him by gripping two handfuls of butt. "I thought you had some things to tell me." She pulled off her glasses and set them on a nearby dresser. "Shouldn't we talk first?" She looked down at Patrick's brown hair as he nuzzled her boobs.

"Let's talk after." Patrick pressed his erection up against her and elicited an audible gasp from the wife. "Or during. I don't care." He leaned up and kissed Donna's soft lips.

Soon, Patrick was sitting naked on the edge of the bed, his glasses were the only thing he kept on. His cardigan, undershirt, pants, underwear, and socks were all strewn about the room. He looked down at Donna's pretty face as she bobbed her mouth on his giant dick. She was only wearing a white bra, panties, and her heels. She gagged and purred as she worked him over.

"So ... ah ... the first thing I should tell you ... is that ... I didn't go all the way ... with either of them." Patrick held tightly to the blanket on either side of his hips.

"Wwwwwwmmmmmhhhhhh?" Donna looked up at Patrick with questioning eyes. She kept slurping on his prong. It was clear to both of them that she meant 'who?'.

"My ... uh ... sister and mother."

Donna spat the cock out of her mouth and her hand paused mid-stroke on his shaft. "Get out of town. Tell me." Her hand went back to stroking up and down, her fingers slick with saliva. Her other hand reached for one of his weighty balls.

Patrick told her everything that happened with both women, emphasizing that he hadn't instigated either one. He also told her about Roy, David, and the women producing milk.

All the while, Donna continued her handjob. When he finished his story, Donna's pussy was a sopping mess. She'd never been more ready for sex. "Let's put a pin in the situation with your family." She pushed him back on the bed and straddled him, pulling her panties to the side. "I haven't made any milk. So maybe that is this mystery's defense mechanism only triggered when in threat. At least we can assume that was Dr. Cobb with the pastor's wife." Donna grabbed that fat cock and lined it up with her vagina. She lowered herself down and felt herself stretch to accommodate the monster. "Ooooooohhhhh, Patrick. You're so thick."

"We ... need to get ... to the impact ... site." Patrick placed his hands on her wide hips and pulled her the rest of the way down on his dick.

"It's not that ... easy." Donna rocked her hips back and forth with a little wiggle to the side. She'd never moved her body like this before she'd met Patrick. "Do you want ... to bed your ... uh ... uh ... uh ... mother? And sister?" The thought drove Donna wild. Susy Lannit had really given Donna the business the other day. The idea that a woman like that would give in to her own skinny teenager was just too perfect.

"Yes ... no ... I don't know." Patrick felt he could tell her anything, but he wasn't sure himself.

"Well, I want you ... uh ... uh ... to be happy." Donna's hips sped up. She could feel her orgasm approaching. "I'll be your girlfriend ... Patrick ... and you can ... use that to make ... your mother ... jealous. If you want her ... that's how you get ... her. And just ... make sure your sister ... hears it all. She'll come to your bed ... too ... oooooooohhhhhhhhh." Donna came on that monster, grinding it deep, deep inside her.

Patrick watched the trembling woman. Could he really have his mother, sister, and this amazing, beautiful investigator? Did he want it all? He did. While she was still cumming, Patrick maneuvered her onto her hands and knees and mounted her from behind.

Within minutes, Donna was shrieking and shouting, "Pull my hair," and "Slap my ass, my lord."

"Yes, my lady." Patrick complied as he railed her. He was learning all sorts of new things. He listened to her cry out each climax and wondered how many people in the hotel were also listening to her.

On the other side of the hotel, Mark was trying to read when he heard shouting coming from somewhere. After a little investigation, he realized it was echoing through the vents. He put his ear up to the vent and listened. He couldn't make out any of the words, but the situation was clear. Some floozy was screaming her head off during rough sex. Mark smiled and wondered if he and Donna had ever sounded like that. He thought not, but he knew she enjoyed their gentle lovemaking. The woman on the other side of the vent was clearly was made of different stuff. Mark idly wondered if she was someone's wife holed up at the hotel on a clandestine triste. He shrugged. That wasn't the mystery he needed to investigate. He sat back down and tried to read, tuning out the lovemaking faintly echoing into his room.

Back in room forty-two, Patrick was ready to unload. "I'm ... close ..."

"Do it ... in me ... I'm your girlfriend ..." Donna looked back over her shoulder at his wiry frame and young, handsome face. Her boyfriend still had his glasses on.

"But ... uh ... uh ... pregnant ..."

"I don't care ... oh, please ... I don't care ..." Donna tensed as she felt hot cum fill her up. Nerve endings throughout her body exploded with pleasure. She wanted this feeling to last forever. She would let this boy fill her up each and every day. Nothing else really mattered anymore. The mystery, her husband, their other investigations, all of it had now clearly fallen into second place.