Work Out Curtain Up

The pull starts deep in my belly, that clench from the spit and the eruptions getting tighter and tighter and harder and harder. It finds new things to grab onto, new bones and muscles and joints and I go faster, stroking harder, gripping tighter. I hear Louise give a slight gasp as she realizes what's about to happen. The wave is about to break on her head, and she can see the swell a mile away.

I unleash myself to tear my flesh apart.

I go faster, tugging and ripping the monster between my legs as it laughs at my efforts, eager for pain that is at most an annoyance. It snarls and roars as I break myself for the woman in front of me who can only watch in horrified rapture at the beast before her.

It feels good, so, so good to go this hard, squeeze and knead and grip as the pull in my belly grows stronger. I'm breathing faster, hard pumping, every inch of my body red and flexed and furious at the seemingly impossible release that would leave me satisfied. What I'm doing is not enough. I know that. It knows that. Louise knows that, and even through my tunnel vision of my own pleasure, I see terror. Some terror that I'll slip and attack her, ravage, and break her and leave her comatose and leaking on the side of the road, shatter some part of her sanity without a second thought. I love it. I love that little spark of horror over the fact that the world could produce something like me.

And she smiles when a pulse sends a flood of precum landing on her stomach, pooling, and dripping and steaming on her skin.

"Fuck," she says, "Just fuck. That's all you are isn't it? Just personified sex and rage. You need an army of women for that thing. And you could do it too. Waltz into a gym and strip and withing five minutes, an orgy all on you. And it wouldn't be enough would it? This entire city couldn't handle you. Everyone would be pregnant within a week and then you'd have to move on. Fuck me. How am I enough for you? How is this enough? You need more, so much more. How much do you even cum? How many women could you impregnate if you tried? What are you, Rachel? You're a beast, an animal, something so vast and immense, I can't quite wrap my head around. Fucking do it. Cum for me. Show me how much you have."

The clenches and flexes grow harder and tighter dragging me up as I arch my back and erupt, thick viscous potent heavy seed in long strands, wide and fat and lengthy only to hit the ceiling and hail back down upon the both of us. I can hear the impact of seed on flesh, underneath the discharge, the pull, the spasms, everything I am pouring out of the wide slit in my head. The first shot is long, so long, seconds, minutes, hours, and as soon as I think it is dying down, it just redoubles once more. Hotter off-white shooting into the darkness to stain and permeate, more seed rocketing from me in a display of virility for my mate, more cum, more cum, more cum, shooting from me in an endless tide.

I can feel the weight of it all already, sinking into me, pooling and puddling pockets of warmth, in the crook of my elbow, on my stomach tracing the lines, between my breasts and on my face. So much, so, so much. And then the second shot starts as my muscles try to tear themselves in half over the pleasure. My mind is gone, only glimpsing half formed snippets of Louise. Smiling, laughing, crying, I don't know. All I can actually recognize is her eyes, wide and inviting, trying to find more and more to take.

It's slow, so slow, the crawling sensation trying to slither out of my body. Each tremor only serves to prolong it, to stir up something more from deep inside, something more to drag out of me in powerful pulses. It's hot and I can't breathe. I taste bitter salt raining down from above, filling my mind. Heat, heat everywhere, burning and singeing and filling my senses with deep smoke. I can't breathe without taking more of that scent in, and that only propels me further. More clenching and flexing and gritting teeth, trying to get more of us into the world, to stain and saturate and ruin with me. I can feel something press into me, writhe and move and try to make sense of the eruption just as I am.

Never stopping, never ceasing, always more, always more. I had more, so much more, just so much in me that needed to get out and erupt and it just won't stop. More pulses and tremors wracking my body, sending me into convulsions. It's getting shorter now, the puddles and streams falling just shy of my ceiling. I'm covered and hot and there's still more firing, always more, always more.

Louise is lost to me. There is just the ceaseless release, gradually waning every moment. I'm past the peak and everything else is just a slow decline. More pulls and pulses and ropes and shots and everything slowly drained out of me. Heat and bitter salt in thick discharge pouring out of me and it slowly stopped. The fog cleared with every breath and heartbeat. The dancing lights of white-hot light faded and popped back into the darkness of my apartment.

It's everywhere, dripping and flowing and staining and pooling, all from me. With no small amount of pride, I take in the amount. Louise does as well, her own flesh sunken in my sea. She licks her lips, swirling my seed and taking it into her mouth. I see a swallow and another surge pools in my lap, not even reaching my knees. I am soft, softer than I usually am. Still somewhat swollen, veins bulging and pumping.

"Holy hell," Louise says.

"You've seen me cum before," I say, "This wasn't anything special."

"You don't get to say that." She's coated and saturated, pools and seas of off-white crossing her body. I've hit evert part of her with me. She is mine, all mine, my brand, and ownership, painted on her skin. My scent is permeating her skin, slowly sinking into her core until there is only me and only the scent of me, signaling to everyone in existence that this creature before me, basking in my warmth and scent, is solely for my use. She lifts her arms and strands and rivers flow off her bicep.

"You're incredible," says Louise, "How much was that? Its heavy."

I chuckle and sigh. My chest jumps as the soft glow runs through my mind. My chest, the settled seed on my chest, shifts and moves and runs off to the floor, to join the rest of the ocean of my creation. I shift and moan a little as I get a soft breeze across my head.

"I've came inside you," I say, "You know how much I can cum. You've felt that. You've felt that inside you."

"You are the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Have you watched yourself cum? It's like an earthquake and a volcano and a hurricane in a person. Just you're stomach alone is like watching a storm roll across the ocean."

"I have to ask. What's the most then? What's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

"Kind of cheating now that I think about it because it was also a thing I did. Swam in a sea cave down in Mexico and a sea turtle came up and let me pet his shell. But the water was so blue and clear and there was just this beautiful shaft of light hitting the both of us. I think I have a picture of it somewhere. I can show it to you. But you're right here. And you can keep doing this again and again and again. You're getting hard again. Don't try and hide that. I want you hard again. I want to watch that again."

I am hard again, ready for another round or two or three or ten or all of them. I could keep going forever and ever, flooding the world with infinite seed.

The doorbell rings and that draws me from the spiral of my own lust. I am starving and thirsty and I can take a break from all this to eat some wings. That would be a fun break. Louise smiles, parting the river over her lips.

"I'll get it," she says, "this'll be fun."

She moves before I can stop her, leaving a trail of my seed behind her on the floor. I hear the door open and the shock of a young man trying to understand the sight before him. I don't look. I don't need to look. The surprise is palpable, cutting through the breeding fog snaking its way through my apartment and filling me with visceral pride.. The door closes once more, and I finally poke my head up over the back of my couch.

And there is Louise, covered in my seed, proudly holding a plastic bag full of chicken wings. I smile back, soft and warm and full of love.