The Swim Team Ch. 03

And in one last impossible throb, it grew a fraction of an inch.

She felt it—her flesh taking and not giving back. It's growing... was the thought that saved her from panicking and which she held on to as hard as she could. Not because it was a reassuring one but because it was the only one at this moment. It was I'm growing my penis-I'm growing my penis-I'm growing my penis until she could find back the I'm not in danger.

The growing clitoris slackened off just as suddenly after an amount of time irrelevant to specify. Gabrielle went limp on the bed, panting, sweating, shaking. The depths of the sweetness were uncovered. From the dreamed murmur on the hospital bed to this one now, revealed: a deafening symphony in slow motion where she could still hear the sweet whisper of a sister.

You're not in danger

She looked at the bottle on the night stand and she said or thought: "Leave me alone."

This decided, the clench seized her back whole.

Gabrielle's body arched sensually. She welcomed this second blow, welcomed the shame that went with it, and a pleasure new, alien really, organic, which she let go through, straight to that fraction of an inch closer to a penis.

Her delicate fingers—at the end of a tense hand, at the end of a wobbly arm—sank into the thick layer coating her crotch, in search of something to grasp, something to sooth and comfort. She found and curled around a mucous membrane which was slowly leathering into skin and foreskin, protecting the bulbous shape of a glans.

"My love, my sweet, sweet love," was the poorly translated emotion in her heart.

The second growth stopped as abruptly as the first and Gabrielle expected a respite, a fleeting moment alone with her flesh, but her flesh denied it. Her clitoris assaulted itself with a long sequence of a dozen barely separate contractions, each bringing its own orgasmic hit, each transforming her a little more. She took an inch of cock without any mercy.

She collapsed on the bed when she could again. This time she was able to almost think, to feel there was something more, something beyond, going over an edge, but no release would be given to her tonight. Her giant clit/penis would twist in unbearable tortures but never explode into a proper orgasm.

And the awful clench went back, awfully larger. Every muscle in her body was starting to ache. Her lungs were burning. But she thrust her hips in sync with every throb, eyes closed, mouth open, fluids pouring down the bed, warm on her inner thighs, cold under her knees. Her clitoris blasted louder, and louder, and then another time louder, and another time, and five other times, ten, twenty, a million, each a seizure that seamlessly put Gabrielle into a gagged ecstasy, where shame dimmed and counts were lost. She savored her agony the rest of the night, humping the air, holding back the hysteria from her mouth.

And never was she in danger.

Somewhere before dawn, after a last clench took its hard grasp away, the magnificent penis simply fell flaccid and complete. At the same time and to clearly mark the relief, it pissed a gallon of watery pre-cum on the mattress. Gabrielle didn't even react to that, she knew it meant it was over and she passed out, fluids splashing everywhere.

Even her mother's screams did not wake her up.

They had to buy a new bed, a new carpet, new clothes too.

She kept a full erection for three weeks straight, missing school, staying home, not allowed to even see Lily.

And Dr. Emmerson was asked to come as soon as possible.