The Accumulator

Suddenly Stanley's hands gripped her head tightly and his thighs lifted from the bench, causing his rod to slide deeper into her mouth. "Christ, Millie," he gasped. "Oh, Jesus, God...I'm cumming! Ah, fuck, yes -- oh yes!"

Millie tried to pull away but could not, and a moment later she felt his shaft jerk and her mouth was filled with a pungent liquid, quite unlike the oily fluid up to now. She struggled for a moment, terrified she might inadvertently swallow it, but Stanley's grip was too strong; so she opened her lips and allowed it to fall from between them as his cock jolted and twitched. It drooled in long, slimy strands down his rod to cover her fingers and the front of his trousers.

At last he relaxed his hands and Millie sat upright. His cock was still hard and she glanced at it, wiping her mouth on the back of her clean hand. The bulbous knob was smeared in spit and seed and gleamed softly in the dim yellow light, and she could still taste the musty flavour of his sperm in her mouth.

She leaned forward and spat on the floor of the cabinet, aware Stanley was watching her. 'You didn't give me much warning,' she admonished.

"It was so good, Millie...I couldn't hold it, honest." He shivered, as if still in orgasm. "Look, it's still hard -- that doesn't usually happen. It's because of what you did...it was lovely.'

The girl stared at his organ as if it were about to spit at her again. "Have you done?" she asked.

"I have. There's no more now."

"Are you certain? There's no more seed?" She watched his face carefully. "It is very important you tell me, Stanley."

He nodded in understanding. "I'm done, Millie. It is there, on the floor - and on your face."

"Do you have a handkerchief?"

"I do." He extracted one from his pocket and handed it to the girl. Her angelic little face was streaked with his jism and he watched as she mopped it clean. He saw her lipstick had smeared to give her a curiously sluttish look, reinforced by the dribbles of sperm on her tits, and he was seized by another surge of lust. There was still a lot to be done, if she would let him.

Millie wiped her breasts carefully before handing the damp handkerchief back to him. "I heard men can only make love once, before they need a rest. Is it true?"

"Uh -- I could do it again, if you wanted."

Millie did want. Her ache to be filled had not diminished and now his seed was spent it was safe to do what Nancy had told her.

"Not in here,' she said. "It's altogether too hot and there isn't room."

"But we need the Orgone force -"

Millie fixed him with a glittering glare. "Stanley, I do declare you are sometimes one penny short of a dollar! Do you want to put your prick in me, or not?"

"I'd do anything to do that."

She laughed softly. "All right. But we are not doing it here. Do you have somewhere with a little more comfort, or should I go back home?"

Stanley led her to his bedroom and watched with growing excitement as she shed the last of her clothes. He gazed at her nakedness for a moment, trying to capture the image for later -- the perfection of her breasts, each sculptured in porcelain and capped with a thick nipple; the arch of her waist, the swell of her hips and the long sweep of her legs, held slightly open to display the delicious little crease at their juncture. It was crowned by a thin wisp of golden hair as fine as spun flax, and the lips beneath it were swollen. She was smiling slightly, her head held at an angle and the big blue eyes on his face, and he thought her the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Millie knelt on the bed and thrust her bottom upwards. She had studied a picture like that in her book, and it had evoked a powerful response. She remembered wondering what it would be like to crouch like an animal waiting to feel the touch of a man's knob on her womanly parts, and whether it would hurt as he buried himself inside her. Somewhere behind her she heard the rustle of clothing as Stanley stripped, and the soft tread of his feet before the mattress compressed. For a few moments nothing happened and she wondered what he was doing, her senses in overdrive - the creak of the bedframe as he shuffled forward, the rough texture of the bedspread on her cheek; the scent of aftershave and the faint odour of semen lingering on her skin.

The tip of his cock touched her labia and she jerked in surprise, even though it was expected, and a second later his hands grasped her hips, the fingers warm. She felt something smooth engage between the lips and heard him grunt softly with pleasure, and she understood the moment she'd been dreaming about for months had finally arrived. Would it be as good as Nancy had said, or would her scheming all be for nothing? Taking him into her mouth had been nice, but it hadn't given her much pleasure. Would this be any different?

And then Stanley was pushing forward, and she braced herself. There was resistance for a second and then the head crowned - and all her doubts disappeared. It was glorious. It was divine. It felt as if her life had been without purpose, but suddenly was fulfilled. She gasped softly and hunkered down, thrusting her bottom upwards to facilitate his entry. Between her legs she could see his sack moving as he thrust, and there was an increasing sensation of fullness as his shaft slid deeper, until the warm press of his thighs told her she had taken it all.

For long seconds neither of them moved, each immersed in the wonder of that first penetration. Millie imagined him inside her, like a great log buried in her core -- it was certainly bigger than the one in her picture book but it didn't feel uncomfortable: rather, it felt right, as if she had been made for it. He began to thrust back and forth, gently, and she moved with him, shifting her hands to give balance and leverage, grunting softly with each stroke. She heard the soft wet sound of their union, and a profanity entered her mind. I'm fucking. She felt the flutter of Stanley's hands on her waist and heard his little gasps of pleasure, and the sensation of being in control surged through her again. I'm fucking, she whispered quietly, and I love it. Even speaking the forbidden words was exciting.

Stanley was in ecstasy. He looked down at the slender figure kneeling before him: the flawless skin of her back; the narrow waist and flare of her hips, and the perfect twin spheres of her tight little ass. He shifted his hands to lever them apart and gazed spellbound at the sight of his cock sawing into her body. There was a rim of cream where they joined and his shaft shone with juice each time it appeared, almost down to the very root.

Above her grasping sex he could see her anus, as tight and neat as a newborn baby's. Its circumference was finely wrinkled and it bulged slightly with each thrust of his loins. He drew her buttocks further apart and watched it open to reveal the pink flesh of her insides. Maybe, just maybe, she would let me touch her there one day. The image ratcheted up his pleasure and he felt the first stirrings of an orgasm. Wait, don't come yet. Make it last.

Millie rested her forehead on the bedspread and one hand stole to her vulva, the fingers slipping between the lips to stimulate them. Waves of pleasure surged through her and she closed her eyes, imagining what she could not see: the long strokes of his cock entering and leaving her body, the tight grip of her pussy as it accepted him. She could even smell their coupling now, a rich odour that further inflamed her senses, and her fingers worked quicker, the waves of pleasure spiralling up, faster and faster, until her climax burst upon her.

She shrieked once, a shrill cry of almost unbearable ecstasy, and her cunt clamped tightly on the intruder as wave after wave of raw pleasure sized her. The sensation was enough to trip Stanley over the edge and he thrust deeply into her body and spurted -- three, four, five long jets spraying into the girl's core, drenching the walls of her cunt and pooling around her cervix. He closed his eyes, his hands like claws around her waist and rode the waves of bliss, brilliant flashes of light bursting in his brain: six, seven -- weaker now, but still spurting...and then a final few dribbles as the last of his semen leaked into her sodden tube. Beneath him she was still cumming, her body thrumming and cunt pulsing, almost as if it were trying to suck him deeper, but then the moment passed and she sighed and pushed weakly back against him for the last time.

For long moments neither moved and there was only the sound of their laboured breath and an occasional sigh, and then Stanley pulled away, his softening cock falling free. Millie rolled on her back and smiled at him.

"I liked that," she said. "What about you, Stanley?"

He nodded dumbly, gazing at her vulva. There was a little puddle of cum held between the lips, perhaps from the final dribbles as he withdrew. The rest was far inside her and probably wouldn't escape, but it was not something she'd want to see. He was keenly aware that if he wanted more sex she could never know he'd cum inside her.

"It was lovely," he said with feeling, "although very wet...you know, with your natural juice. Let me get you another hanky."

Millie accepted the proffered item and wiped herself with it. It was wet, but she knew how excited she'd been and it was obviously part of her body's natural process. God, it had been good! She glanced at Stanley's cock and was surprised to see it shrivelled.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. Why do you ask?" He saw where she was looking and laughed. "Ah, that...no, it's just having a little rest. It's natural."

Millie smiled. "Well its only eight o'clock and we have two hours left. If you were able to make it hard again -"

"I'm sure I can," Stanley answered. "Perhaps we might stop for a little drink first, and then we can try another way." He remembered the tantalising sight of her little pink asshole winking up at him, but that possibility was probably a bridge too far. Better to save it for another day.

While they sat drinking, the sperm Stanley had spurted carelessly inside her began its work. The cells were sluggish to begin with, for they had yet to be capacitated, but within a few hours they would swim vigourously though her uterus and into her Fallopian tubes. There were eggs there, released after her last period, and they were ripe to be fertilised. She didn't know it, but Millicent Brown was in desperate danger of becoming pregnant.

But that was in the future, and what they didn't know couldn't hurt. So, after a refreshing glass of brandy, Millie lay on her back in Stanley Greenhough's bed and allowed him to fuck her again -- and it was even better than the first time.

Epilogue

As Millie was enjoying her second orgasm of the evening, Maude Brown was having a less enjoyable moment.

She lay in her bed staring at her pussy in horror, for she could see Roger Smith's semen oozing from between the lips to lie like drops of liquid pearl on the rumpled sheets.

"I told you not to cum!" she said angrily. "I told you I wasn't safe."

The man shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Sorry love," he said. "I just couldn't help myself. I'm sure it will be all right."

But Maude had a sixth sense about these things and she knew by the end of the evening she would be carrying another baby; and somehow, she knew it would be a girl. The thought filled her with anguish as she'd thought her childbearing days were over -- and she'd known of the risk and foolishly ignored it.

The spectre of her downfall and the shame it would involve brought another thought: Millie. She'd be home soon and although Stanley was, in her opinion, incapable of ever impregnating a woman, Millie was an attractive girl and was in mortal danger. If she, Maude Brown, with her over-ample body and advancing years was capable of being knocked up, surely her delectable daughter was too.

And so she resolved to forbid the girl to ever be with another man on her own. It was regrettable, but necessary. The thought of two babies in the house -- if Millie were ever to become pregnant -- was absurd. Better her daughter remain celibate. Better that she be kept at home forever, to protect her virtue and, of course, to help bring up her new sister.

The thought cheered her up a little and she turned to the man next to her. Sex would be a scarcity over the coming months and she didn't know if Roger Smith would still be around after the birth. And if she was already pregnant, she may as well enjoy the remainder of the evening without concern.

"Never mind, love," she said, "but it means there will be an end to this in a few months -- for a while, anyway. How about we make the most of it?" She glanced at her watch. "Now, what can you do in thirty minutes?"

Roger Smith fell to the task with enthusiasm. Maude Brown had been fun and he was always up for a fuck, but his taste didn't run to pregnant women. What he really wanted was younger, fresher prey and he'd noticed a picture of a particularly attractive example on the dresser beside the bed. She was gorgeous, and his experience told him that the sultry pout of her lips hid a smouldering sexuality yet to be fully developed.

And so, as he plunged his thick cock into Maude Brown for the last time, he looked at the girl in the photograph and resolved he would get to know her.

*****

© Copyright, Hot Sister. Not to be reproduced in whole or in part without express permission.

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Author's note

Like most of my stories, this one ends with a 'hook' to facilitate a sequel, should I have the time and inclination to write it. Please let me know if you think it's worth my effort.

As I said at the beginning, this story is a work of fiction - but has an element of truth in the basics, as Wilhelm Reich did indeed exist. Born in Austria in 1897, he qualified in Medicine and specialised in Psychology. Over the years he was to become known as one of the most radical figures in that discipline, mainly due to his extreme views on sexuality and promiscuity.

He emigrated to New York in 1939 to escape the war and shortly afterwards coined the word "Orgone" derived from 'orgasm' and 'organism', to describe a biological energy he believed to have healing properties. A year later he started building "Orgone Accumulators" for his patients to sit inside, which he said imparted health benefits. This led to newspaper articles about sex boxes that cured cancer. My description of Stanley's Accumulator is largely correct.

In 1947 the US Food and Drug Administration obtained an injunction against the shipment of Orgone Accumulators, believing they were dealing with first degree fraud. Reich was subsequently charged with contempt for ignoring the injunction, and was imprisoned for two years. He died in Lewisburg prison in 1957, a few days before his release.

I have no evidence to suggest that Orgone Accumulators were ever employed in the way that Stanley Greenhough used his -- but it would be fun to think they were, and, like his, maybe they led to a very satisfying conclusion for everyone involved.

Hot_Sister. October 2019.