Whitney Returns - The White Starling

She turned around again and sat down onto the edge of the bed, and slipped off her flat shoes. And as she performed those actions, her skirt mouthed open and he could see her creamy inner thighs.

But all of that was not what Whitney was trying to focus on right in that immediate moment.

He wanted her to lie down on the bed, so that he could scan her muscles.

Where the muscles were always more contracted in a standing homeostasis it was a sign of typical adaptive change over time.

'Maturing' (of a human) was just a function of a particular DNA switch. If you turned that switch off, then cells would simply always continuously replicate along the usual homeostatic living cycle. And if you were able to generate sufficient power through dynamically flowing electron fields, you could massively increased the oxygen supply into tissues and muscles, increasing the toxic particulate removal cycles too.

"Martha." Whitney said. "After I do this, maybe in two or three days from now, you will need to drink lots of water. Right now though, you will feel great."

"That's good, Whitney. Make me feel great!" She just readily lay down, face down into her soft full head-pillows, on the bed -, body all stretched out quite lubriciously, really.

But in his mind, Whitney was just turning over and over, and quite in worried way, the question of how the fact that he was so very attracted to Martha might affect what his preternatural powers could or would even do now...

His eyes fell across her whole body, the shape of her shoulders, the outline of her bra strap beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, and then his eyes just skipped right over her waist and hips and ass, until they noticed the cream and Irish amber gold freckles of her skin on the backs of her shapely legs, from the lower part of her thighs down, down to the tops of her calves, and where the sock tops ended. She was a natural red all right. And the fact that, well, really, she was agreeing to allow, to give him complete access to her, to all those secret, the most intimate parts of her mature womanly body -, caused his mind to drift back to what lay under her skirt....What colour would her genital hair be, down there? Probably greying, for sure... No way would Martha shave down there. Not Martha Kent.

His hands reached forward, to about a foot away from her body, her flesh.

If there were video cams recording it all, there would have been a hazy effect visible just between his palms and where he was focusing on the top of her body's skin. Even so, the EMF effect was reaching into her body, right through her skin. He was able to sense, almost feel, her blood vessels and veins.

There were crackling sounds of electro-static energy in the air. And there was the distinct odour of ozone now.

*

Chloe Sullivan drove her car up to a good hundred yards away from the front fence of the Kent farmhouse. And she stopped it there, and got out, and headed towards the house on foot.

Even from a hundred yards away she could see that the front door was wide open.

*

From inside Martha Kent's bedroom, the over all view out beyond the slatted windows, was starting to 'light frequency shift' along the far horizon line now, and bright afternoon was drifting into very late afternoon with its weaker shade of light ambience, and with some pretty shades of purple moving into the horizon's spectral bands.

Magenta is not a 'real' colour, of course; it's just an optical illusion formulated by the brain, in the brain. Magenta was emanating from off sunlight glints from the edges of items inside the bedroom that were made out of chromed metalwork.

Maybe it was just Martha's red-ness that was causing the illusionary effect in his head... Whitney saw the magenta, he was aware that the whole place was taking on this magenta 'wash' tone like they were in some kind of art movie.

He knew her lips would be engorging now with the extra blood-flow.

The pupils of her eyes would certainly be widening too.

There would be lots of moisture under her eyelids as her eye self-lubrication improved rapidly.

Her axillary wetness -- underarm sweating -- would be increasing dramatically now too as her core body temperature rose. He knew she had already been sweating from before just because of some normal activity of the day that she had obviously been busy with, but now, it would be really wet and sweaty under her arms, even under her breasts to an extent.

"You know, Whitney -," she murmured, from her face turned to the other side on the pillow, away from him. "You know......I had been thinking about using my vibrator all day long, and I was just about to go get it when you showed up. All those girls in Washington, you know Whitney. All they do is masturbate on and off all day long, and they keep their vibrators in the desk drawers and in their handbags. Some of them, even......Aargh, you don't wanna know." But she continued. "They have these things in them, inside them, you know what I mean......even while they are working, and people use their phone's wi-fi to, um, well. Well it makes them squirm around! God...

"And then at night, they all go out to these cocktail bars and they get smashed and they get laid. Every single night. Pretty much."

"Sounds a bit promiscuous, Martha." He replied to her.

"Oh it is, Whitney. It is. Which is why I got the vibrator!"

So, it hadn't been from some innocuous 'activity' at all that she had been sweating when he had arrived... He thought.

He placed a single finger to her right buttock muscle, touching it; touching her. "And that's because, you are good, right, Martha? And you don't have sex with strangers."

"That's right, Whitney. I am very good, and I prefer to have sex with someone I know and that I like. And that I can trust." She moved her hands towards the hem of her skirt, and slipped them under it. "I am very very good. So you need to behave yourself with me. You need to be polite and be proper with me."

But after her hands had removed her panties, one hand reach out to check his crotch.

It was almost painfully hard in there, his penis stiff and erect, and hard up against his well-fitting pants.

And her sex scent too now, was 'pushing him forward,' as it were; calling his body into her.

He let his hands and arms drop, and then he quickly undid the top button of his pants and unzipped them, and then took them off completely.

He left his skin-tight jersey top on and sat down on the bed next to Martha. She had turned to face him now, on her side. She was blushing, and hot in the face. But then so was he too, he certainly thought.

"Kiss me first, Whitney, before you fuck me....You are going to fuck me, aren't you? Whitney." Briefly, she was just a little nervous that he might resist! Of course that wasn't going to happen though, that he wouldn't fuck her! Of course he was going to fuck her and he was going to fuck her good and hard...

He leaned forward, his face getting closer and closer to hers now -, his mouth close to her lips. At last he place his mouth down onto her lips, and instantly there was relief in his heart and mind, which had both been pounding in expectancy. Her tongue snaked out into deep inside his mouth, licking around in there. She was juicy and soft and feminine. What did Martha taste like? He heard himself ask himself in his mind. She tasted like Frosties -- corn flakes! And cinnamon.

But she also smelled like sea salt and buckwheat soba noodle soup with Japanese seaweed; that other scent also drifting up now from down there.

Salty buckwheat and sugary corn flakes. Martha.

Then he got stern with her now.

"Turn around, Martha." He commanded. "And get on your knees."

He got up himself and kneeled right behind her closely.

When she had done that, with her torso still upright, he placed his strong hands onto her body, around where her ribs were and then he shoved her body downwards quite forcefully, and then placed a hand behind her head and pushed that down firmly too.

She was arching her back all by herself now, seeking him to enter her with the movements of her rear, with her whole posture and positioning, and pushing her bottom up and out to him, and as it were, offering it, everything that was there, to him.

He managed to edge back a bit on the bed - and moved his mouth to her pussy, and then he licked her voraciously and hard.

He knew he was pre-cumming. But she knew it too because her hands were roaming around behind her, trying to reach for his penis and feel it. She felt the wetness of the clear pre-cum. She pushed back against his strong hold on her. "Let me, let me." She gasped back at him. She wanted to suck his dick.

And he wanted to make sure that he didn't blow too quickly, straight into her mouth!

*

Chloe was right there, in the slightly opened bedroom doorway, watching wide-eyed, as Whitney sniffed away like a dog at Martha Kent's mature, hungry, excited, experienced, pussy. And then presently, he drew his face from her cunt, and gently at first, slipped his rock-hard cock into Martha Kent's old, large, but very juicy and wet, pussy. When he was licking her, down there, he realised that, maybe her use of the vibrator had really gone a long way to 'activating' her clit, with the clit hood now easily raising out almost like a kind of small but genuinely meaningful feminine 'split dick' of its own!

Those 'leaves,' those firm and jutting clit hood labia were waving around on their own. Sure it was salty and almost a little acrid with old lady's urine scent down there, but it was so comforting and nice too. But still in all, her clit hood lips were pretty dominant and active down there! Was he fucking her or was she fucking him? He could help but thinking.

But then he forgot about that as he began to pump in and out of her hard, clenching his buttock muscles suddenly next more by autonomous action rather than anything actually deliberate. He felt his anus clench and tighten and then release and tighten again, in orgasmic flexure as he spurted cum hard all into Martha Kent's beautiful greedy, needful, pussy, and when he extracted his penis, it was still cumming, hadn't finished cumming at all, and with those last final and very relieving jerky spurt releases spilling out all over her outer cunt lips, some dripping on her bottom cheeks and plenty onto the bed linen as well.

'God!' Chloe Sullivan thought. "Look at those tight ass muscles."