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From: "Too Much Time" <toomuchtime2002@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sammy's Hot Summer - Chapter 6 (mF+ busty)
Date: Tue, 3 Jun 2003 07:10:03 -0400
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Well. It took me long enough to crank this one out. Sorry for the long
wait. Contrary to my pen name, time just hasn't been on my side lately.
I'd like to say that situation will get better, but with the weather getting
nicer every day, it probably won't. I'll do my best, though. If it's any
consolation, this chapter is the longest one so far -- longer even than the
first.
As you'll see, the story takes a new twist in this chapter. I won't say
much more than that. Read for yourself. I've decided that the whole thing
will end up being 10-12 chapters. Which means I've hit the halfway point.
So I wanted to shake things up a bit.
Anyway, as always, I hope you'll all let me know what you think. Enjoy!
TooMuchTime
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The new MSN 8: advanced junk mail protection and 2 months FREE*
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<1st attachment, "sammy06.txt" begin>
The following is probably a work of FICTION.
It was sent back in time in a quantum bottle.
So who really knows for sure? ...
Feel free to reprint or take credit for it
(as if I could stop you), but please don't make
any changes, or I won't write the next chapter!
If you haven't already, you really should read the
first five chapters first. At this point in the
story, you're liable to be quite lost otherwise ...
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/TooMuchTime/www/
SAMMY'S HOT SUMMER
Chapter 6: NEW DEVELOPMENTS (m F+ cons busty)
by TooMuchTime (TooMuchTime2002@hotmail.com)
Copyright(c) 2002, 2003, TooMuchTime. All rights reserved.
That night, I had a strange dream. In it, I was sitting on the couch late
at night, watching TV. I heard a noise upstairs, like something pounding.
I looked around for my baseball bat, and could only find a tiny one I'd
received during "Bat Day" at a Phillies game once. Stupidly believing that
it would protect me, I ventured up the stairs. The noise grew louder, and I
promptly realized it was coming from behind my parents' door. Dreading what
I would see -- my parents having sex or something -- I was nonetheless
unable to help myself. I pushed the door open. It wasn't what I expected.
My mother and Veronica were there in the bedroom, bouncing together on the
bed as if it were a trampoline, both smiling, my mother fully dressed and
Veronica naked, her tits bouncing everywhere. They stopped when they saw
me, then covered their mouths and began to giggle, pointing down at the tiny
bat in my hand. Yet when I looked down, it wasn't the bat any more. I was
naked now, and in my hand was my own erection. I tried to let it go,
embarassed that my mother should see it at all, much less see me holding it,
but instead I began to stroke. As I did, it grew, slowly, inch by inch.
Veronica and my mother stopped giggling as it extended toward them
freakishly, like Pinocchio's nose or something. I wanted it to stop, I
willed it to stop ... but it wouldn't.
"It's okay," a familiar voice said behind me, and I turned to see Bethany
there. Cradling me from behind, she slid her hand down my arm, placed hers
over mine, and began to help me stroke myself. This, of course, only made
my dick get bigger still, until before long it was poking my mother in the
side. My mother looked down at it in disgust, but seemed unable to move
herself out of its way. Veronica, meanwhile, had somehow transformed into
Susie Darcetti, a senior at my high school who'd graduated that year, and
about whom I'd masturbated more times than I could count. Like Veronica,
she was a brunette, with big tits, and at the moment, was wearing her
cheerleading outfit. Or part of it anyway -- the skirt and shoes. But she
was topless, and as she began to jump up and down, hooting and hollering,
waving her pom-poms, her tits looked to me exactly like Veronica's.
"It's okay," Bethany whispered to me again. "Let it go." She reached
around with both her hands now, and slid them up and down my shaft, which
had grown to the size of a roll of carpet. "Show Mommy," she said, and a
moment later, Susie Darcetti echoed this loudly, in a cheering voice, "Show
Mommy! Show Mommy!" She was waving her pom-poms over my giant erection,
tickling it, as my mother continued to look increasingly uncomfortable.
"Cum for Mommy! Cum for Mommy!" Susie screamed. I wanted to tell my mother
to leave, or apologize to her ... or anything ... because I knew what would
happen soon. But I couldn't, because Bethany was suddenly kissing me,
silencing me. As she did, I felt the familiar buildup. "Go Sammy, go
Sammy, goooooo Sammy!" Susie cheered, straddling the top of my giant cock
like a balancing beam, jiggling her tits in unison with the pom-poms. I
knew I couldn't restrain myself for another second.
Suddenly, I was cumming, everywhere. From my freakishly big penis came
equally freakish amounts of jizz, splashing all over the room. Some of it
on my mother, some of it on Susie Darcetti. Susie just laughed and
squealed, smearing it over herself, but my mother shrieked, and ran from the
room. I was mortified. I had to wrestle myself away from Bethany, but
finally did. I noticed that my giant penis was gone now, and that my usual
one was in its place. Bethany tried to tickle me as I ran out of the room,
but I slapped her hands away. "Not now!" I ran down the hall after my
mother, wanting so badly to explain to her what had happened. When I
reached the stairs, I lost my footing and fell, tumbling, all the way down.
When I got to the bottom, I wondered why my neck wasn't broken.
As I sat there, I heard another pounding noise, like before. Except this
time, it wasn't upstairs. I looked for my bat, but couldn't find it, and
rose to my feet anyway, following the sound down the hall. Just past the
kitchen was an open doorway, and when I peered inside, I saw my mother
standing there in front of the washer and dryer, one of which was making the
noise. She was naked, clutching herself tight, her back to me, rocking left
and right to the rhythm of the machines. "It's wrong," she muttered. "It's
wrong." Over and over.
"What's wrong?" I asked, advancing toward her as the machine grew louder
and louder.
But all she could seem to do was keep saying it. Finally, as I drew
closer, I reached out and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. I meant
to comfort her. Instead, she spun quickly toward me, as if I'd scared the
hell out of her. "It's WRONG!" she said again, this time practically
screaming the words at me. But the face wasn't my mother's. It was the
face of Kevin's mother. Kevin had been my best friend and next-door
neighbor until his family moved away at the start of summer. Bethany lived
in their house now. Anyway, Kevin's mother started crying, burying her face
in her hands, and all I could think to do was back away, one step at a time.
"I'm sorry," I said, but doubted my voice could be heard over the pounding
and her sobbing. I kept taking steps back until I hit the wall. Then I
turned around and saw that it wasn't a wall at all, but a door. I realized
that the pounding wasn't coming from the washer or dryer, but from something
behind the door. I reached down for the knob, grabbed it, but it broke off
in my hand. Slowly, cautiously, I bent down, determined to know what was
behind that door, planning to peek into the hole that had been left behind
when the knob broke away. But before I could, the phone rang ...
* * *
And I woke up, in my bed. The phone was ringing, and somewhere down the
street, there was a steady pounding noise. I glanced over at the clock, saw
it was 9:15, then stumbled out of bed toward the phone across the room.
"Hello?" But I didn't reach it in time. A dial tone greeted me. I hung up
the phone and went to the window, where bright rays of June sunshine ripped
into my eyes. Once they'd adjusted, I slid the window open, poked my head
out, and saw some utility trucks down the street. It looked as if they were
ripping up part of the street.
"Thanks," I muttered, then stumbled back to the bed again. I knew I
wouldn't be able to get back to sleep with all that pounding, so I just sat
there instead, and tried to collect my thoughts. Undigested fragments of
the dream I'd just had were still fresh in my mind, nagging at me. I looked
down at my underwear, and saw that I'd cum recently. No doubt at the same
time I'd done so in the dream. I remembered how Susie Darcetti had looked,
bouncing around topless, and smiled. "If only." Then I thought about how
my mother -- no, Kevin's mother -- had told me I was wrong. For what, I
wasn't sure. It stuck with me, though. That and the door that wouldn't
open.
I shook my head. It had certainly been a very strange, very intense dream.
* * *
A short while later, after a shower, I went downstairs to get some
breakfast. The light on the phone in the kitchen was blinking, and reminded
me of the call I'd missed. I checked the messages, and found one from
Bethany ...
"Hi, this is Bethany, next door. Sammy was supposed to come by this
morning and install some new things on my computer for me." I chuckled at
the contrived story. "Unfortunately, I have to cancel, because I need to
take a friend to the airport. Please let him know that if he wants to come
by later this afternoon, we can take care of it then. Otherwise, I'll get
in touch with him this weekend. Thanks. Bye."
I deleted the message, then quickly ran to the front door and peered out.
Sure enough, Bethany's car was gone. Damn, I thought. If I'd answered the
phone in time earlier, there might have been a chance to go next door and
get some more action from Veronica before she left. Oh well. Nothing to be
done about it now.
On the way back to the kitchen, as I passed the door to the downstairs
bathroom, I stopped. Something clicked in my mind. Something from the
dream. There, next to the kitchen in our house, was a bathroom. Not a
laundry room. Our washer and dryer were down in the basement, the door to
which was on the other side of the hallway. Bethany's house next door had
an almost identical layout to ours, yet next to the kitchen in her house,
there was a laundry room. I knew this not only because Kevin used to live
there, but also because the day before, when I'd been looking for Bethany
downstairs, I'd checked the laundry room. And she wasn't there.
So then ... how was it that she came upstairs carrying a laundry basket
full of clean wash? I tried to remember if she told me she'd been doing
laundry, or if I'd just assumed it. I probably had assumed it. Just as I'd
assumed she was down in the basement. Where she must have been, for me not
to have seen her. But then why the laundry basket? Was there another
washer and dryer down there? Or had she grabbed the basket on her way back
up? Yeah, that was probably it. She'd been exercising or something down in
the basement, then grabbed the basket on her way up.
Satisfied with this explanation, I continued on to the kitchen and made
myself a bowl of cereal.
* * *
After breakfast, I went out to the street to see what the construction guys
were doing. It turned out they were fixing some underground wiring. This
was interesting to watch for about fifteen minutes, then quickly got boring.
So I went back inside and tooled around on my computer for a while. I
tried to play the shoot-em-up game I'd been so excited to download for free
from a file-sharing network the week before ... but it quickly grew boring
too. I went to Bethany's website, thinking maybe I'd jerk off over her
pictures ... but after all I'd experienced during the past few days, it just
wasn't the same. I wanted the real thing. The real Bethany. Stripping for
me, teasing me, making me explode. Two-dimensional photos on a screen just
didn't cut it.
As I looked at an image of Bethany lifting a dress up to expose her sweet
pussy, I suddenly remembered how hard I'd gotten holding her dress to my
face a couple of days before, inhaling her scent. Now that, I thought,
would really make the process of getting off while looking at her photos
more interesting. Too bad I hadn't asked her if I could bring the dress
home with me as a memento. If only I had a key to her house, I could go
next door and borrow the dress, then return it later. She probably wouldn't
mind. If only ...
I stood, rushed to my desk, and began to dig through the mess of crap I'd
pack-ratted in there over the months and years -- superballs, a yo-yo, old
coins, action figures, parts of broken radios -- until I found what I was
looking for ... two keys, attached to each other by a rubber band. Kevin
had given them to me the year before, when he and his family went away for a
week, and he wanted me to sneak in and feed the small snake in his closet
that his parents had forbidden him to keep. After the week was over, I was
supposed to give him the keys back, but for whatever reason, he never asked
for them, and I just forgot. Until now.
The big question was, would Bethany have changed the locks when she moved
in ... or no? All I knew was that it was worth a try. With the keys in one
hand, I grabbed my empty backpack with the other, then rumbled down the
stairs and out the door. I paused halfway across the lawn, aware of the
more-than-usual number of people out on the street, watching what the
construction people were up to. Clearly, I couldn't try the front door
without risking an audience. So I ducked around to the back instead,
through the pool area, to the sliding doors I'd entered the day before.
Just for the hell of it, I tried pulling the door open, but sure enough, it
was locked. So I took a deep breath, and fished the smaller of the two keys
into the lock. I was encouraged by the fact that the lock itself looked
anything but new. The key slid directly in, and I exhaled a sigh of relief.
Then I tried to turn it ... and it didn't turn. I tried to turn it the
other way, and got the same result. Shit, I thought. So close. Then I
remembered that the year before, I'd needed to jiggle the key a few times to
make it work. So I did the same again ... and sure enough, it worked.
After tucking the keys into my pocket, I slid the door open and stepped
quietly into the house. I wasn't sure why I was bothering to be quiet,
considering that I knew nobody was home, but it seemed like a good idea
anyway. I padded across the kitchen to the stairs, and on the way, happened
to catch the door to the basement out of the corner of one eye. My dream
from the night before and my thoughts about them that morning leapt into my
mind, and I couldn't resist backtracking to the door. Tentatively, I placed
my hand on the knob, squeezed it, and gave it a turn. It was locked.
Hm, I thought. That's strange. I tried both of the keys, not expecting
either of them to work, and true to my suspicions, neither did. Now, I was
really curious. If Bethany was down in the basement the day before -- and I
was almost certain she had to have been -- then what could she have been
doing that would require locking the door behind her? I put my ear to the
wood, to see what I could hear, but the pounding of the men outside made it
impossible to discern anything. I got on all fours, to see if could peek
under, but there was virtually no space to see through. Whatever was down
there, I clearly wouldn't be finding out until Bethany came home, and I
could ask her.
Although frustrated, I was still keenly aware of my reason for being in the
house in the first place. With a renewed sense of purpose, I bee-lined for
the stairs again, climbed them, and made my way into Bethany's bedroom. I
did a quick scan of the room, and found various pieces of clothing from her
"costume" the day before strewn on the floor -- the skirt, the blouse, the
stockings, the heels. I bent over and picked up the blouse, held it to my
face, and almost instantly, my dick went hard. Her scent alone was an
aphrodisiac. I was about to stuff the blouse into my backpack. Then I
realized that this would just result in me having to make the extra trip of
bringing it back later. Why not just do what I needed to do with it here,
put it back where I found it, and leave things at that?
Several minutes later, after I'd grabbed the huge bottle of hand lotion
from the bathroom, I was sprawled out on Bethany's large bed, the blouse
draped across my face, tugging my shorts and underwear down, freeing my
erection. I'm not sure how much of its excitement was due to smelling
Bethany's perfume and how much to the somewhat illicit nature of what I was
getting ready to do, but regardless, it was raring to go. I closed my eyes,
pictured Bethany, shot some lotion into my hand, and went to town, stroking
myself, imagining it was anybody's hand but my own.
When I heard somebody say my name, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Sammy?" The voice was female, and came from the direction of the hallway
door.
I quickly yanked the blouse from my face, and turned toward the voice. It
was Sasha, Bethany's daughter. Before I could even begin to process why she
would be standing there, or how she'd gotten into the house, I realized that
my hand was still on my dick -- frozen, no longer stroking, but still there.
I pulled it away.
Sasha smiled at me, wickedly. "Well ... somebody's having fun." Petite
and cute, with whitish-blonde hair cut in a short bob, she wore what seemed
to be the same exact outfit she'd had on a few days ago, when I first met
her -- an extremely cropped white t-shirt and denim shorts, which showed off
not only her ample D-cup chest, but also her incredible tan. As before, her
nipples stood out in stark relief beneath the shirt, revealing that she wore
no bra. She walked casually across the room toward me, then stopped, and
sat on the edge of the bed.
"I -- I'm sorry I said. I shouldn't be here."
"Oh, please," she responded. "If one of us shouldn't be here, it's
probably me."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Well, I'm supposed to be in Montana, remember?" This was true. "You
know," Sasha said, "you really don't have to stop on my account. Far be it
from me to interrupt a young boy taking care of business."
I blushed. "You're not," I said. "I just got started."
"Oh, then you don't mind if I play along?" she asked. Without warning, she
placed a hand on my inner thigh, then trailed her pink nails slowly up, over
my balls, and skated them along the edge of my cock.
"N-not at all," I replied, thinking to myself, how is this possible? How
do I go from one minute thinking I'll need to jerk myself off to get
satisfaction, then suddenly having a beautiful woman ready to do it for me?
Even with everything that had gone on for the past week, it seemed a bit
unlikely.
And yet, as Sasha lubed her hand up, and began to stroke me, these thoughts
quickly began to drain out of my mind. "Wait," she said, and paused long
enough to remove her shirt, bringing her huge tan-lined tits out to play.
"I seem to recall you liked these." She smiled, then went back to jerking
me off, sliding her small, feminine hand expertly up and down my slippery
shaft. It felt wonderful ... yet still ... something seemed wrong.
"H-how did you get in?" I asked.
"Through the back door," she responded. "Same as you."
"But ... I didn't see your car. Where were you?"
Sasha seemed to grow annoyed. "If you're going to ask so many questions,
maybe I just won't play any more." As if to illustrate, she lifted her
hand, and held it inches from my cock.
"No," I said. "Please. Don't stop. I just ... it's kind of confusing."
She smiled, then resumed stroking me. "On the contrary. It's the least
confusing thing in the world. You're a horny little boy, my hand is on your
cock, and it feels good. Right?"
I couldn't dispute this. "Yes," I said. "It does."
"Then don't think about it so much. Just go with it."
And so for all of a few minutes, I just went with it. Then I said, "But
..."
"But what?" Sasha replied, clearly getting annoyed again. She stayed her
hand. "What is it? Would you rather I give you a blowjob again?" She
grinned. "Or do you want me to climb on top of you and take a ride?"
"No," I said. "I mean yes, I would. But ..."
"But what?"
With a great force of will, I sat up. "Something's not right," I said.
"You just showing up here with perfect timing doesn't make any sense. The
last time I saw you, you were driving back to Montana. Now you're here
again." I ran the train of events through my head. "And ... and you
weren't anywhere outside when I came into the house, so how did you even
know the door would be unlocked?"
Sasha looked a bit put off, but answered smoothly. "I didn't know. I just
tried it, and it was."
"So then how did you know I came in the same way?"
"I ... guessed." I could tell that even she wasn't happy with this answer.
"Where did you come from really?" I asked. "Were you somewhere in the
house?"
She shook her head, getting red in the face. "Sammy, really, you're
getting paranoid over nothing."
I thought about the locked basement door. "Were you down in the basement?"
By the time I said this, Sasha was already on her feet, facing away from
me, so I couldn't read her expression. "Sammy, now you're just being
stupid. Why would I be down in the basement?"
"I don't know." She was right. I felt stupid. Stupid for sitting there
arguing with a hot girl who moments before had been offering to have sex
with me ... but there was something about the way she was being so defensive
that made me think my small hunch had some measure of truth to it. I turned
the question back around on her. "Why wouldn't you be?" I asked.
"Be what?" she replied.
"Down in the basement."
Sasha turned and faced me again, her arms crossed over her chest. "Maybe
because all that's down there are some boxes of things my mother hasn't
gotten around to unpacking yet."
I thought about this. "How would you know that?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean ... when were you ever in the house before today?"
Sasha paused, then said, "Sammy, I really think you should leave now."
This response made me feel more confused than ever. Was I right to suspect
she was lying to me, and that that's what was making her so angry? Or was
there nothing wrong at all? In which case, I might seem like a bit of a
lunatic to her, asking crazy questions about the basement. "Why?" I asked.
"I can't tell you why," she said, thereby heightening the mystery. "Just
go."
I pulled my shorts up, buttoned them, and sat on the edge of the bed.
As I reached around for the bottle of lotion, Sasha said, "Don't worry
about that. I'll put it away. Just please leave, now." Her expression was
a mix of both anger and some kind of sadness. Or maybe fear?
"What's wrong?" I asked, as I started toward the door.
"Nothing." She continued to stand there, her arms crossed. "Go."
"Whatever. Jeez." As I made my way down the stairs, she followed me
closely. I had decided I was going to do something, but was waiting for the
right moment. When we passed the front door, Sasha made as if to open it
for me, until I said, "It's probably not a good idea for people to see me
leaving that way."
"Oh ... right. The back door then."
Now's the best time, I thought, and bolted. Before Sasha could figure out
what I was up to, I had already rounded the corner into the hallway, and was
standing in front of the basement door.
"Sammy, what are you doing?" she yelled.
I grabbed the knob, gave it a twist, and pulled. It opened.
"Sammy, stop! You can't go down there!"
Without another thought, I plunged into the brightly lit stairwell.
* * *
I'm not sure what I expected to find in the basement, really. I guess my
suspicion when I'd been grilling Sasha upstairs was that maybe she'd been
living down there. Which opened up a host of questions. Why would both she
and Bethany have lied to me about it? Why would they have made up the whole
grandmother in Montana story? Were they even mother and daughter at all?
And most importantly, if Bethany had been lying to me about that, then what
else might she have been lying to me about all this time? The possibilities
were unsettling.
For better or worse, Bethany was somebody I'd grown to trust in a
relatively short period of time. I'm not sure why exactly. Maybe because
we'd shared various kinds of intimacy. Maybe because I knew she had more to
lose than I did by being involved with somebody my age. Maybe because, in
my own juvenile way, I loved her. Or maybe just because it's a whole lot
easier to trust people you find attractive ... especially when they tend to
be naked a lot. Whatever the reason, I trusted her. Perhaps naively. And
now that trust seemed to be crashing down all around me.
So anyway, as I say, I didn't quite know what I'd find down in that
basement.
All I know is that any suspicions I MIGHT have had could not have been more
wrong.
As I hit the bottom step, I turned and saw a dirty blonde, kind of short,
not quite slim but with an hourglass figure, busty ... and very naked. She
smiled widely when she saw me. "Hi, Sammy."
I recognized her immediately. In fact, I'd just been thinking about her a
couple of days ago. A cousin of Kevin's, who we'd both drooled over so much
the summer before. But how could she be here? "Jilly?"
And just then, something blunt struck the back of my head. And I blacked
out.
* * *
As I awoke some time later -- I couldn't be sure how much later -- my skull
was throbbing, and I found myself tied to a chair, arms at my side, a few
loops of rope stretched across my torso. Across the room from me were
several people in white coats, hovering over what looked to be a shiny
operating table of sorts, slanted at a 45-degree angle. They all had their
backs to me, blocking my line of sight, so that the most I could see of who
or what was on the table was the bottom half of a pair of feminine legs.
Still reeling from the blow to my head, I wasn't sure whether or not to draw
attention to the fact that I was awake now. After all, who were these
people? What were they doing? Clearly, whatever it was, it was secretive
enough to have knocked me out and tied me up over it.
"Look who's awake," a voice to the left of me said. I turned, and there
was Veronica, sitting in a chair like the one I was in, but not tied up.
She wore a skimpy blue dress that accentuated her curves, had her legs
crossed, and appeared to have been reading the magazine in her lap just
moments before.
"Veronica?" I said.
"Yes, dear." She giggled to herself. "Oh. I have never seen somebody
look so confused as you."
"Yeah. Well. There's a lot to be confused about at the moment."
By this point, our voices had caught the attention of the people in the
white coats across the room. All four of them turned and walked toward me.
I'd like to say I was completely surprised by who they were, but frankly, at
this point, nothing surprised me as much as it probably should have. One
was Sasha. One was Jilly. One was a latina woman, nearly as tall as
Bethany, who I didn't recognize. And the fourth, of all people, was Kevin's
father. Since his was the absolute last face I expected to see at that
moment, he's who I focused my attention on.
"Mister Brannon?"
"Hello, Sammy," he said to me, looking a bit sheepish.
"I -- " I didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry about the ropes. I just needed to make sure you wouldn't get
away before I had a chance to explain what's going on here." He gestured to
the various attractive women surrounding him with an awkward sweep of his
hands, as if this alone would be enough to explain it to me. They all just
smiled.
"Um. Okay," I said. "So ... what IS going on?"
Jilly was the one to answer. "Something wonderful," she said.
To this, Sasha added, smiling, "Almost a miracle, really."
I nodded my head slowly. "Okay. Can you maybe ... be more specific?"
"It's actually kind of complicated," Mr. Brannon said, scratching the back
of his head.
"Oh, I don't know. It's not so complicated, really. Is it?" This was a
new voice, and a familiar one. The others turned and parted, revealing that
the woman on the metal table behind them was none other than Bethany. She
wore her best-looking outfit -- nothing at all -- and rose from the metal
table groggily, as if she'd still been asleep only a few seconds before.
She slid her legs over the side, rubbed at her eyes, and found the floor
with her feet.
"Bethany, what's going on?" I asked, sure that I would finally get some
answers.
Naked, her huge tits jiggling with each step, Bethany crossed the room
toward me. I noticed that all of the women -- Sasha, Jilly, Veronica, and
the latina woman -- smiled at her with a kind of ... reverence or something.
As if they were incredibly happy to have her in the same room with them.
Mr. Brannon, meanwhile, continued to appear somewhat sheepish. "Well,"
Bethany said, smirking down at me from a foot away, "the easy answer is
'cloning'."
"What?" Confused as I was, I still couldn't help but gawk at the sight of
Bethany's magnificent body. As she stood above me, her face nearly obscured
by her magnificent chest, her fat nipples jutting proudly, her pussy less
than a foot from my face, I could feel my cock growing hard in my shorts.
"Cloning," she repeated. "Of a sort."
"Of ... what sort?" I asked.
Mr. Brannon stepped up next to Bethany. "The sort that works." He smirked
to himself, as if he believed he'd told a really good knee-slapping joke,
then smoothed his features over when nobody else laughed.
Of course, he hadn't really told me anything at all. "Oh," I said. "That
kind."
Bethany caught my sarcasm, and grinned. "You know, you weren't supposed to
find out about this."
I thought her words over. "So ... what WAS I supposed to do?" I asked.
While I wasn't looking, Veronica had positioned herself behind me, and now
she slid her hands slowly down my chest, leaning in over my shoulder, one of
her breasts pressing against the side of my head. "Silly boy. You were
supposed to be enjoying yourself," she said. One hand continued downward,
over my stomach, until it reached the bulge in my shorts. "We had so many
very good surprises ready for you."
"She's right," Sasha said. "We really only just got started."
"Started what?" I asked. "Who's we?" Everybody's vagueness was starting
to drive me nuts.
Bethany squatted down, bringing her face on a level with mine. "Sammy, we
really can't tell you much more than that right now," she said. "Not yet.
You shouldn't even know this much."
"I don't feel like I know anything," I replied. Which was true.
"Yes, but you know enough," she added. "Enough to know I'm not exactly who
or what I seem to be."
"So ... who or what are you then?"
"I'm Bethany," she grinned. "And I'm not. I'm a web model. And I'm not.
But one thing I am, aside from everything else, is your friend. That's
what's important. And as your friend, I don't want to keep you here against
your will. None of us do. But we need to know that if we untie you and let
you go, you won't run off and tell everybody what's going on here. Even if
you don't know what's going on here. Does that make sense?"
"Not really."
"Okay, let me put it this way." Bethany placed a warm hand on each of my
thighs, and pushed my legs apart. "All of us really want to continue the
same kind of fun we've been having for the past week." Slowly,
deliberately, she unbuttoned my shorts. Then, smiling up at me, she began
to unzip them.
Upon seeing this, Mr. Brannon blushed, turned his back, and walked away,
muttering something under his voice about having some calculations to do.
If not for the slight stress of the moment, his reaction might have seemed
comical enough to make me laugh. But I was more than a bit distracted.
Anyway, once he left, I was exposed to the sight of Sasha, Jilly, and the
latina woman, each standing there in white lab coats, watching bemusedly as
Bethany continued to unzip my shorts. Part of me wanted to tell her to
stop. But I couldn't muster the strength to refuse her. After all, this
just wasn't the kind of thing that a boy my age fought against, no matter
how strange the situation was.
"What about you?" Bethany said, as she pulled the flaps of my shorts open
wide. She ran a fingernail along the front of my underwear, teasing the
front of my cock with it. "Haven't you been having fun?"
"Of course," I replied, and swallowed hard, aware of all the female eyes on
me.
"Of course," Bethany repeated. "And wouldn't you --" In one quick
movement, she pulled both my shorts and underwear down to my knees. My
erection sprang free. "-- like to have even more fun?"
"S-sure," I stammered. "Um. What kind of fun ... exactly?"
Behind me, Veronica giggled, and gripped my shoulders. "Girls?" she said,
to the women standing behind Bethany. "Sammy wants to know what kind of
fun. Why don't you show him?"
As if synchronized, the three women opened their lab coats and let them
drop to the floor. Jilly wore a black bikini, skimpier even than the one
I'd seen her wearing that day at the pool, out of which her tits spilled
shamelessly. Sasha wore an enticing piece of lingerie -- a red babydoll
with frilly lace, almost sheer across the chest, so that her nipples were
plain to see beneath the material. And the unknown latina woman -- nearly
as tall as Bethany, with muscled legs longer than anybody's in the room --
wore a sexy variation on a nurse's uniform. The neckline plunged down low,
emphasizing a modest pair (by the standards of the room) of C-cup boobs,
pushed tightly together, while the tight skirt hiked up so high that I
thought I could see a hint of white panties below the hem.
"You see?" Veronica said. "They are all ready to have all kinds of fun."
"And all they need you to do," Bethany added, "is not tell anybody." I
turned from looking at the lineup of women back down to Bethany's face,
which was nestled right up against my raging erection, but still not quite
touching it. As I watched, she smiled naughtily, then slowly ran her
fingertip up from the base of my cock to the tip, pushing out a large drop
of pre-cum. I thought my balls might literally just explode at any moment.
Part of me knew I was being manipulated. Part of me knew that if these hot
women were willing to go so far out of their way to even try and manipulate
a geeky kid like me, then whatever they were doing must really be something
bad. And suspecting this, part of me knew that going along with them right
now -- even if only verbally -- might end up amounting to the equivalent of
me selling my soul to the devil. But part of me still trusted Bethany too.
And most of me was just plain horny. Incredibly horny. So I said what they
wanted to hear. "I -- I won't tell."
"Do you promise?" Bethany asked, her breath hot against my cock.
"I promise," I responded. "I'll never tell anybody. Ever."
Bethany's face lit up. "I knew I could trust you, Sammy. Untie him,
Ronnie."
Veronica did as she was told, and seconds later, the ropes were gone.
Bethany took my hand and helped me to my feet. I instinctively reached down
to keep my shorts and underwear from falling to the floor.
"Let them go," Bethany said. "You won't be needing them just yet." So I
stepped out of my shorts, my dick standing proud, as she walked me over to
the line of women. "Sasha and Jilly I think you know." Both women, in
turn, gave me a quick hug and kiss. "And this ... is Carmen."
The latina woman smiled, and unlike Sasha and Jilly, chose a far more
intimate way to greet me. "Pleased to meet you," she said, then leaned
down, brought her hands to my face, and gave me a long, sensuous kiss. As
she pulled away, I couldn't help but stare into her steamy eyes, which were
deep and brown and heavy-lidded. Her thick lashes fluttered as if in
slow-motion, she stood up straight, then dropped her hands from my face.
"Carmen is somebody you weren't supposed to meet for another few days,"
Bethany said. "You were going to know her as Ms. Rodriguez. Like me, she
lives all by herself, a few blocks away, and she has a pool that needs
cleaning. I was going to recommend your services. When you showed up, she
was going to be skinny-dipping."
"Actually," Carmen interrupted, grinning, "I think we decided it was going
to be nude sunbathing." She looked right at me as she spoke. "I was going
to be wearing a walkman, so that I wouldn't hear him enter. Then when he
walked around the corner, he would see me ... pleasuring myself ... with one
of my toys." As she said the word "toys", Carmen deftly reached her hand
out and ran her fingers along the sensitive underside of my shaft, making me
shudder.
"Yes, that's right," Bethany responded. "I forgot we'd changed the plan."
"Well," Sasha blurted out, "we wouldn't have had to, if Veronica hadn't
taken it on herself to bump the schedule up yesterday." Her tone was
playful -- clearly, she meant to tease more than accuse.
Veronica shrugged. "What can I say? I got unpatient. So sue me."
Bethany put her hand around my shouders. "Girls, please don't confuse him
any more than he already is. You see, Sammy, Ronnie was only SUPPOSED to
... well, let's just say, not do as much as she did."
"She was supposed to jerk you off," Jilly said. "Not fuck you." Such
dirty words coming out of Jilly's mouth seemed especially arousing to me for
some reason. In the short couple of weeks I'd known her as Kevin's older
cousin the summer before, she'd always seemed a bit ... uptight. Not one to
curse. The contrast with hearing her now threw a thought into my head,
though. Was this even Jilly? Bethany had mentioned something before ...
I turned to face her. "Are any of you ... real?"
Bethany laughed, her eyes sympathetic. "Yes, Sammy, we're all real."
"No, but I mean ... really real. Is that the same Jilly I met last year?"
"Don't ask me, ask her," Bethany grinned.
Jilly spoke up. "You mean, am I the same girl whose tits you and Kevin
stared at for two weeks? Am I the same girl who left her door unlocked when
she was changing, so that Kevin could 'accidentally' walk in on me? Am I
the same girl who asked you to rub lotion on her back while you were
standing in front of the jet in the pool?" Well, I guess that answered that
question. She stepped around, between Sasha and Carmen, and stood in front
of me. "Tell me, Sammy," she said. "I've always wondered. Just as you
were touching the side of my tit ..." Closer she stepped, her face inches
from mine, then reached down, grabbed my hand, lifted it, and placed it on
her soft, bikini-clad tit. "Your fingers tensed up. And your legs seemed
to wobble a bit. And I've always wondered. Did you cum for me?"
I nodded, stammering, "Y-yes."
Jilly smiled. "I thought so. If it makes you feel any better, so did
Kevin."
"You mean you ..."
"Oh, that, and much more. He didn't tell you?"
I shook my head.
"Well, I guess some things even best friends don't share with each other."
"It's not important," Bethany said, taking my hand off Jilly's huge tit,
and pulling me away from her. "Jilly was Professor Brannon's first attempt.
She turned out to be a bit too ... aggressive. Moved way too fast." Much
to my dismay, Bethany led me away from the lineup of women, past the shiny
operating table, into the next room. "He learned a lot, though.
Thankfully, Kevin doesn't remember any of it."
"Why not?" I asked.
"There's time for answers later," she said, still holding my hand, leading
me along like a little boy, her hips swaying and tits bobbling as she
walked. "For now, let's go take care of your ... problem." I'd been so
busy looking at Bethany's body that I hadn't noticed we were standing at the
bottom of the basement stairs.
"What problem?" I asked, then saw where her eyes were directed -- at my
erection. "Oh. That."
"Yes. That. Come on upstairs, and Mommy will make it all better."
And so what could I do but follow? Halfway up the steps, I looked over my
shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the other women. But they were all
around the corner. What were they going to do down there, I wondered? I'd
seen several other doors on the way back to the stairs. Were those
bedrooms? Did they all sleep down here? Or did they sleep in the main part
of the house? There were so many questions that needed answering.
But as Bethany had said, there was time enough for answers later.
* * *
The bedroom was just as I'd left it when Sasha had asked me to leave the
house. The hand lotion and blouse were still on the bed. As we both sat
down, Bethany held up the lotion, smirking. "Having fun, were you?"
I blushed. "Kind of."
Like Sasha had earlier, she placed a hand on my bare thigh. "Did you want
to finish ... alone?"
"No," I replied, vigorously shaking my head.
Bethany slid her hand up further, squeezing, digging her red nails into my
flesh. My erection had softened just a bit during the walk up two flights
of stairs ... not much, but a little. Yet now, at her touch, it jumped to
full life again, stiff as a board. "Did you maybe want me to ... help you
finish?"
"Yes," I replied. "Very much. Please."
"Such a good boy," she said, and bent forward to kiss me. The she slid
herself up onto the bed, pushing the lotion and blouse aside, and rested her
head on a pillow. "Come lay next to Mommy." She patted the mattress. I
did as I was told, climbing up next to her -- she on her back and me on my
side, holding her. My dick pressed against her hip, and her tits were just
inches from my face. As always, I couldn't keep myself from staring at
them. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she said. "Go on. Show me how
much you like to suck them."
I didn't need to be told twice.
Even before my mouth found Bethany's nipple, I thought I could see it
growing hard. With my lips wrapped around it, my tongue teasing it, the
nipple quickly became a marble in my mouth. Eagerly and clumsily, as I
sucked and licked, I groped at her other huge tit with my hand, which barely
seemed big enough to hold even half of it at any given moment. Meanwhile, I
glanced down, and saw that Bethany's own hand was buried between her legs.
"That's it, Sammy. Drink Mommy's milk." As she said this, I began to feel
something warm in my mouth. Something sweet. I paused, pulled my lips
away, and sure enough, there seemed to be drops of a milky liquid at the tip
of her nipple. "Please don't stop, baby," Bethany said, and pushed my head
down again.
Amazing, I thought, my lips clamping down again onto her tit, urging more
milk from it. I never would have guessed how much breast-feeding would
arouse me until I was actually doing it. It seemed nasty and innocent all
at once -- as if I were both a little baby and a full-grown man, even though
in reality, I knew I was neither. Warm, milk flowed freely into my mouth,
over my tongue -- so sweet -- and I swallowed it down hungrily. Bethany,
meanwhile, continued to finger herself, her legs spreading, hips beginning
to buck, a gentle moan escaping her.
"Ohhh, Sammy. The other one now. Mommy's other tit ... please."
Unable to reach the other breast with my mouth from where I was laying, I
rose up to my knees and straddled Bethany, who at this point brought her
free hand to the unsucked tit and began to massage it herself, moaning more
loudly as she did so. I got myself into position, bending forward, my face
hovering over her chest, and just as I did so, she squeezed or perhaps
pinched her nipple in just the right way to make it shoot a thin stream of
milk up at me, catching me just below the eye. It shocked me a bit, and my
expression must have revealed this.
Bethany giggled. "Sorry about that, sweetie. Here, have another." And
she did it again, intentionally this time. Another stream shot up at me,
but this time, I caught it with my mouth. Likewise with the next one. But
after that, I couldn't resist lowering my mouth to it, to suck it up for
myself. Which sent Bethany into spasms of groaning. I guzzled her milk, my
dick pointing down at her, and she ravaged herself with her hand.
Until finally, neither of us could take it any more.
"Sammy," she said, her breathing labored. "I need you to fuck me ... right
now."
Those were the words I'd been waiting to hear from her. "Yes ... Mommy," I
said, and pulled my head away from her chest, quickly re-aligning my body.
It didn't take much to get my dick right up to her now soaking-wet pussy ...
but I was surprised to find that actually getting it in was harder work than
I'd have thought. I pushed forward, but nothing seemed to happen. I
wiggled it around a bit, but still, nothing. Then I remembered that
Veronica had used her hand to lead me in the day before, and reached down to
duplicate what she'd done, using my own hand to part Bethany's lips and open
up the way. That did the trick. Quickly, easily, my dick slid into her.
"Ohhhh ... yesss," Bethany moaned. "Oh, sweet God, yes."
From the first moment I entered her, I was ready to cum. But I knew I
didn't want it to end before it had even started. So after that initial
plunge, I just stopped, enjoyed the feeling of her warm wetness.
Bethany ran her nails gently up and down my back. "That's it, baby. Take
your time. Go slow."
Carefully, I slid myself out, almost all the way, then back in again. The
feeling was tremendous. Even better than Veronica had felt the day before,
perhaps because the build-up today had been such a long one, or perhaps
because Bethany simply aroused me more than any other woman on the planet
did. Regardless, it took every ounce of willpower I had not to cum, even
after only that first meek thrust. Still, I managed not to, and dared
another one. Then another. With each thrust, the feeling grew more
intense, and so I stopped myself again.
Bethany grabbed my ass, and dug her nails into my cheeks. "It's okay," she
said, as I looked into her eyes. "Don't stop yourself. Just show Mommy how
much you love her."
"I do. I love you so much," I said, pulling in to kiss her at the same
time that I began to pump my now-throbbing cock in and out of her. As our
tongues intertwined, her hips rose to meet mine, urging me to push every
last inch of myself into her pussy. The sensation was beyond intense,
traveling down into my legs and up to my arms -- a slow and steady kind of
hum -- while the pressure in my balls built to a fever pitch.
"That's it, Sammy. Cum for me. Cum for Mommeeeeee ..." Bethany squealed,
her pussy tightening around me, her ass rising off the mattress, her nails
digging into my back.
And that was all it took. The floodgates opened, and my cock exploded. I
nearly thought I'd pass out as cum jetted from me into Bethany in violently
strong spurts, one after the other.
"Yes ... YES!" Bethany said, then let out something that sounded almost
like a low roar.
I pumped and pumped, growing more uncoordinated and light-headed with each
thrust, until finally, it became a losing battle. As the twitching of my
cock began to ebb, I collapsed onto Bethany, completely spent. I rested my
head on one of her tits. It was covered over in a cool sheen of milk and
perspiration, and as her hard nipple pressed into my cheek, I knew I
couldn't resist taking it into my mouth yet again. But as soon as I put my
lips to it, Bethany's body practically jumped into the air. She rolled over
to one side, dumping me off -- and out -- of her.
At first, I thought maybe I'd hurt her. But then I saw that she was
laughing. "Sorry, baby. They're just a little too over-sensitive. Maybe
we can try again another time. After I've cooled down."
I smiled. "So I was ... okay?"
Bethany ran her fingers through my hair. "Sweetie, you were so much better
than OKAY. You made Mommy feel better than she has in a very very long
time." She gave me a quick kiss, then seemed to jump again, having seen the
clock. "Shit," she said. "It's almost five. You really need to get home."
Needless to say, I was disappointed. "So ... you guys are letting me go?"
She rose, and sat there on the edge of the bed, looking over her shoulder
at me. "Well, we kind of have to. If you just turned up missing, this is
probably one of the first places they'd look."
"But what if ... you know ... I tell somebody?"
Bethany shrugged. "Then you do. But I don't think you will."
"Why? Because I promised?"
"No. Because you know that if you do, all of this will end."
"Oh ... right. Well, for whatever it's worth, I won't tell anybody."
She grinned at this. "Good. I don't want it to end yet either."
Just then, there was a knock at the open door. It was Sasha, still in the
red babydoll nightie, arms behind her back, tits thrust out. "Sorry to
interrupt," she said, although her expression told a different story.
"It's okay," Bethany said, glancing down at my dwindling cock. "We were
just ... finishing up. Sammy's had a long day. I think it's time for him
to go home, eat dinner, and rest up ... for tomorrow."
Sasha stepped into the room. "So we haven't seen the last of you then?"
"No," I said. "I guess not."
"That's great to hear." Her face went somber. "Unfortunately, you can't
go home yet."
"I can't?" Shit, I thought, now what? I wasn't sure whether to be worried
or excited.
"Well," Sasha said, "not without these anyway." As her expression softened
into a smile, her hands swung out from behind her back -- in one, she held
my shorts, and in the other, my underwear.
I let out a sigh of relief, and we all had a good laugh at my expense.
* * *
At dinner that night, I was ravenous. The day's excitement had taken a lot
out of me. I had no clue what was going on in Bethany's basement, or why
they -- whoever "they" were -- had decided to trust me. Considering the
stakes, though, I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. After
all, none of the women I'd encountered in the past week had ever done
anything to hurt me. Quite the opposite. Well, there was the matter of
getting hit on the back of the head ... but Bethany had more than made up
for that. If that was the price of admission, I'd happily pay it.
Of course, I knew I wouldn't be happy with having so few answers for long.
In particular, what the hell did Mr. Brannon have to do with it all? Why
wasn't he in Florida with Kevin and his family? Had he and Bethany
mentioned cloning? Was Bethany a clone? Were the others? Was that even
possible? I was no rocket scientist, but I wasn't stupid either, and the
last news headlines I'd seen on the subject said that a sheep and a mule had
been cloned. But humans? That sounded a bit too much like science fiction
to be serious. Then again, everything about the past week seemed more
fictional than real ... so who was I to even judge any more?
My father interrupted my train of thought.
"Good lord," he joked. "If you keep eating like this, I may have to get a
second job."
"Oh, that reminds me," my mother said. "Sammy, a Miss Rodriguez left a
message on the machine. She said she needed her pool cleaned. You should
call her back later. I wrote the number down."
I tried not to blush, recalling the sight of Carmen in that sexy nurse's
uniform, remembering how her tongue felt in my mouth, her hand on my cock,
as I'd stood in front of her with my dick on display.
"Okay," I said. "I will."
"Well," my father said. "No wonder you're so hungry. Sounds like you're
building up quite a clientele."
I shrugged. "Yeah. The lady next door said she might refer me to some
other people."
"Nothing wrong with that," he replied. "Just do a good job ... and
remember to get paid."
"Oh, I definitely get paid," I said, trying not to smile.
And then some, I thought. And then some.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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