You'll Go Down in History Ch. 03

"What's the reading?" I asked.

"Oh, ahh," she was distracted, looked at the gauge, hands all over herself, "93 percent, Tom."

"Sandra, I go off like a firework when I cum, but then I'll have to start all over again. And I honestly don't know how often I can do that. I'm close now." I was really getting invested in her project. Saving Christmas, I mean.

We were both aroused and breathing hard, casually stroking ourselves as we confronted these facts. "So, if I understand you," she panted, "we have a choice of a steady state at something short of 100 percent or a cyclical output of unknown period or duration?" Her fingers scratched through the thatch on her mons as she talked.

"I'm either going to glow pretty much like this as long as we are careful or I'm going to pop over and over, but who knows how many times. I've never been a lighthouse, just a circus freak."

"What is sustainable? How about this? We keep you at this level as long as we can with whatever means necessary and if you climax, then we're no worse off and we'll just have to start over again anyway. It's in God's hands."

I wanted to be in her hands. "OK," I agreed. Seemed like a no-lose situation to me.

"Wait a minute!" she said, raising a hand to smack her forehead, jiggling her jiggly bits. "We're not getting the ideal performance out of the mirror and lens like this." And she put her hands on her hips again, thinking. "Quick, we've got to get you in the actual place of the bulb, not standing out here three feet in front of it. The reflection and refraction can't work optimally this way. How could I miss that?" Perhaps it was the masturbating, I thought.

"What?" my dick would have said if he could speak. I was dimming now. Sandra directed me to the back of the mirror assembly and I pulled up my sweats and followed. She knelt there nude, now unconscious of her nakedness and showed me how to unbolt the bulb assembly from the reflector. Did she know I could smell her arousal? I knew how to use a ratchet and soon loosened the five bolts of the base ring. I lifted out the broken bulb assembly and set it aside, revealing the ceramic doughnut that insulated it from the bowl. The bowl sat upright with a smooth, cold ceramic hole about four inches in diameter in the center. Sandra walked, all smooth, golden muscle, around the reflector out of my sight.

"Tom, you stand on the framework on the back of the reflector, reach up and grab the rim with both hands. I think that puts your penis in line with the hole, right? Try it."

I stepped up and stretched myself across the arc of the bowl, spread-eagled. I felt my pelvis nestled up against the ceramic ring, no pressure on my cock, now hanging in a pocket of fleece on the other side. With my head resting on the chill metal I couldn't see anything but to my far right and left my reflection dimly in the dark glass. Lightning flashed over the ocean and I could see Sandra moving across the platform in the strobe. After a moment she flipped the big switch and the platform began turning with me on it.

Nothing else happened for a minute. 'What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm recording my observations. And praying," Sandra said, distracted. I spun slowly and thought about my delicious predicament. Street rat to lab rat. At least my freakishness was a useful curiosity to Sandra. It pulled me back from the worst of my depression and self-loathing. Having a woman focused on your cock sure is a tonic for your disposition. I mean, I wasn't paying her or anything. She was genuinely interested in my cock and I could see she'd gotten aroused for me. My life had gotten better today and, my life being what it always had been, one day was all that counted.

"Now I'm going to expose your organ." I felt a tugging at my sweatpants, a rub against my cock as she pulled on the garment. I eased my weight off of the ceramic ring and the fabric slipped down. The cold air was sharp on my cock and ass. My balls pulled up.

"Fascinating," she said and nothing happened again for a moment. "Now get hard again."

"It's not that simple. I'll need stimulation again. It's hard to see you from here now." In the dark glass to my left I could see her outline reflected, crouched naked with notebook in hand looking at my flaccid cock in it's nest of dark hair as we slowly spun round on the track. She'd brought the luminance readout with her and piled her clothes under her knees.

"We're at virtually zero now. What's the best procedure?" She sounded curious, if dry. I could see she had her free hand on her crotch, though.

"You've never, uh, never operated one of these?" I flexed my groin and my cock jumped.

"Huh!" she said, "I've done research, like I said. I've read the manual, you could say."

"No hands-on experience? Could you play tennis after just reading the manual? Touch it," I said. She did and I jumped. "Warm your damned hands!"

I heard her rubbing her palms together, whispered prayers and blowing for a minute. Then a gentle, tentative touch. Warmth cradled my balls. A finger explored the curve of my corona. I felt the rush of blood to my crotch and a warmth of my own spread as I began to swell once more.

"OOOOh," Sandra said, leaning in to observe. "Thank you, Jesus." Her warm breath on my knob.

Her explorations were tender and surprising. Watching her in the glass disembodied me. My cock got heavy as she stroked its growing length and it began to glow in earnest again. Now I could see her a little better in my own glow, saw her focus, how she looked closely at my organ as she stroked it. She licked her lips and shifted her weight where she crouched, cleared her throat.

"Uh, 31 percent, now. We've got to get back up to the 90th percentile quickly."

"Can you turn on some heat up here?" I asked.

"Oh! Yes. Just a minute." Sandra jumped from the rotating platform, walked to the control panel and pulled a lever. Coils glowed in several panels around the platform. "Without the load of the lamp I guess the diesel can be diverted to heat. Normally I wouldn't waste fuel on it." She must have been conditioned to the cold up here.

I had softened and dimmed again.

"Tom, we've got to get this working quick. Those ships out there need the beacon now and it's only going to get more urgent. What do I do to get you to your brightest?" She strode over and knelt before me again.

"Well, what did the porn women do? That touching was a good start, but you'll have to do more than that." I settled my weight on my spread feet and waited, my full attention on my cock.

Sandra grasped me again, gently, and stroked, pulling me slowly to hardness, brightening.

"If this is going to go on all night," I cautioned, "we'll need some lubrication. If you rub me raw the pain will prevent my staying hard."

"Oh, I didn't think of that. Noob." She laughed at herself. I relaxed a bit and started to think more how to get this to work. How could I stay aroused, very aroused, all night without orgasm. Or maybe I would come a few times?... Well, I guess it was an experiment and we'd have to try things to see what worked.

Sandra said, "There isn't anything but grease and WD40 up here".

"Those are no good. But saliva is perfect."

"Saliva?" Her stroking continued.

"You'll need to take me in your mouth." I held my breath.

"Oh, OK," and that unmistakable wet heat slipped from my crown slowly down my shaft to meet her hand. I swelled quickly and saw in the glass her head light up. She worked her tongue, exploring out of curiosity as much as in an effort to please me. It didn't matter, I quickly responded to full hardness. The mirror radiated my brilliance out through the lens as she pulled off. "Mmm, that's interesting. Your organ's hot. Hard and soft at the same time. The way the skin slides over the column inside..."

"You got me hard real quick. That works well, but you'll have to keep it up."

Sandra cocked her head and opened her mouth, advancing with her tongue forward, feeling her way along the underside as her lips closed over me. Again she lit up as I slipped deeper. Her eyes rolled to see her reflection in the curved mirror. Must be like a fisheye, I thought, extreme close-up. She was fingering herself, too.

She pulled off again. "So this keeps you in the range and it registers when my head isn't blocking the output. Looks like I need to alternate. Actually, that's perfect, because we only need the beam when we're rotated toward the shipping channel. That's about half the rotation, so maybe 45 seconds on, 45 off." She was running the calculations out loud, not really talking to me, head down as she scribbled in her notebook. Then she just rose up and engulfed me again.

It was electric on my cooled cock, her hot, wet mouth slipping over me and pulling back, then sliding down again, the tongue pressing and twisting. Sandra sucked me in and out, then in and out, her little hand tight on the base. I got that deep tingle, the beginning of orgasm. Then she pulled off and wrote in her book. I strained to pierce her, but hung throbbing instead, a white-hot light shining into the night. If the seamen only knew where their guiding light came from.

"You are expressing a complex fluid when aroused, I observe," she said, savoring it. "I haven't read a good description anywhere." Then she took me in her mouth again, with vigor, now rubbing herself vigorously, too. 45 seconds of rising bliss as she pressed herself onto my stiff cock, experimenting with firmness, wetness, tongue and teeth as I neared ejaculation. Then off again and I dripped, wanting almost unbearably.

"The flavor is bitter and sweet, too. There are notes of citrus and an aftertaste of what? Faintly like an astringent cleaner, but not unpleasant," she said, writing it all down. "It may be an acquired taste, but I'm warming to it quickly. Interesting. Perhaps an evolutionary basis?" Then she grasped me and the deep, hot heaven of her mouth was mine again. In the reflection running around the segmented glass as we turned, leaping from one pane to the next, I saw my glowing white-hot cock impaled in her, deep beyond her molars, the knob fat, the shaft straight and hard, moving in and out as she took me. It pulsed as I neared orgasm, as I strained for it, as I gave myself up to the pleasure, nearly there.

She pulled off and the peak receded, though I hung on the edge. Just a breath would have triggered me. Sandra let me go like that for an extra rotation, picking me up again as my trembling eased. This time she took me in her mouth and simply held me there as the electricity pulsed through me from cock to brainstem. I held the rim of the mirror, spread-eagled and helpless for a time I couldn't register, lost in pleasure I couldn't control or end. Worse yet, I watched her touch herself and felt her moan around me. She found the rhythm that kept me just right for a light bulb and let her own passion play.

Finally, I begged.

"Sandra, please. I didn't know it could be so good that I couldn't stand it." I gasped as she left me hanging and dripping.

"We've got half the night left. Maybe we should try something else."

"Oh, God," I moaned. "Please."

"I'm bringing you to Jesus tonight, Tom. In fact, my own faith is strengthened in this. It's what he brought us together for." She left me hanging for a two-rotation spell, her eye on the gauge, using it to time when to torment me with pleasure again. As I waited I watched her take that saliva-slick hand from my cock and press it into her sex, grinding on it, crying out in a release of her own. Where was mine?! I was not liking being a lab rat anymore.

"You're drunk on sex, Sandra."

"It's God's plan." She licked me from balls to pisshole and back again while I groaned. I'd dripped my juice on her face as she slid under me, so close I felt each drop squeeze through me. The girl was bejewelled with my sparkling drops. But my release was withheld. Again she let me go and I stuck glowing into the room as she watched the gauge, wiping the drops into her mouth with a finger, tasting them thoughtfully.

"I'm going to engage phase two of the experiment," she said, "We're getting excellent data." With that she stood and stretched, jittery with her own arousal, energized by her own orgasm. Her strong, golden body pulled at me right from the cock-root, pulled through the damned hole in the mirror. So close.

She reached and stroked my cock. I trembled and she turned her back to me and bent over. She reached between her legs and grasped me, leaning back toward me, guiding my slick, hard quivering shaft. I felt her pussy open to me, the resistance of engorged flesh, the heat and wetness tight as my cock spread her. She closed over me and pressed back. I saw her body glow from inside like the others had. Sandra was intent on watching me impale her, my shining pole visible as it sank in. One long, slow plunge and I was right there again.

And she pulled off. I screamed in frustration. Sandra was curled on the floor heaving. My cock felt as hot as it looked. White hot and throbbing. Dripping. Wanting.

Sandra stood again and backed up to me, grasped me again in a wet hand, plunged me into her deep and she rode me that time, rode me like she needed it as badly as I did. We were off the rotation now and she cried out too. I felt her body shake and her pussy clench and I burst, the explosion nearly unbearable, finally. I couldn't come fast enough. My butt clenched and I thrashed as she gripped me and squeezed the jizz from my body, balls deep and sticky against her thick, red labia, glued by our juices.

She held me inside as I slowly wilted and finally slipped out. Her legs were slick down to the ankles with our fluids and my cum flowed down in thick dollops. We could both barely stand or breathe. The platform ground on, spinning us in the night as my light dimmed again and we came back to earth.

Finally, I asked," You said we had half the night left. What about the ships?"

"Well," Sandra said, "We'll have to start all over. The children are counting on us."