VigoRx - 2.5 - Clean Up
VigoRxChapter 2 - The DrivePart 5 - Clean UpLater in the BarnBrett shovels another gloppy load of mud into the bucket. Bob eyes it up, and peers at Brett, trying to figure out how the volume came from such a small source. Brett now stood about half the way between six and seven feet, shorter than Bob was after coming to a rested seven foot size. "That's quite a sample you gave us there, Brett."Brett smirks, "Any way I can help, I guess."Jean pulls some vials and loads the cleaner whiter bits in. "We should be able to use this to test contagious levels. There should only be metabolized hormone in Brett."Bob nods, "Given Brett's different," he motions a finger at all the mess, "reaction, impressive triggered size but almost normal untriggered size, I'm guessing you're right. Whatever Brett has in him is different and potent. Let's cross our fingers and hope that it's less virulent, otherwise this impressive display Brett gave us here probably infected several mammal species already."Jean mixes a scoop from the sloppy bucket into some grain and throws it into the horse pen. A horses trot up and nibbles into the pile. Jean says, "We'll know soon enough."
Bob raises a hand to stop the experiment, but misses his window. He groans, "Patty isn't going to be too pleased.""We need to know," Jean shrugs, patting his hands clean."Who's Patty," Brett chimes.Bob pats the mane of a nibbling horse, "Samuel's sister. She loves horses, so she stays with her brother a lot and visits my animals. She wont come around for a few weeks, hopefully, but she does like to check in." Brett asks, "A real horse lover?"Bob nods, "As far as she's concerned, they're her horses. My owning them is a technicality.""How are we going to explain this when she shows up?" Brett asks.Bob shakes his head, "We'll think of something before she gets here."Brett leans on his shovel like it were a small cane. He wipes his brow and asks, "What about Samuel?"Back at the General Store
Samuel stares at the crotch of his pants. Large dollops run from front to back between the legs. He takes another tongue lap of the spooge rag and sits back waiting. The limp mess begins to pulse again. It throbs its way up to full attention. Samuel licks the rag again and waits. The cock thickens harder, inching an inch longer. Samuel curls up, licks the bead of precum off the tip. He smiles, and takes another hit of jizz rag. In another moment, his cock rages against his lower chest, nicely nestled between his ever slightly swollen pecs. Samuel aims the foot of length out, wobbles it around until the pool forming at the tip starts leaking down the sides. Moaning, he dives in and sucks his cock as far as he can down his own throat. Thrusting into his own mouth, gasping around it, as it messily froths more and more fluid, he pulls himself to the edge of ecstasy. With one last hard contortion, he swallows most the length and bursts a heavy long load directly down his own throat for the third time.
He groans and uncurls, takes a good smell of the brackish air he'd been creating for the past couple hours. He marvels at the mess he's made, tries to count the number of times he's done it. He lets his cock loosen and lay back down, fatter and longer then it used to lay, at least for the moment. Reaching over he grabs the hanky and bags it in plastic. He stumbles his worn legs over to the fridge and stores it. Leaning against the appliance, he mutters, "I need to get more."