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Hypnotising His Mother

Part Three

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

On the way to work, Charlotte groaned and wriggled in the driver's seat of the car, shifting her weight from one side to the other. It didn't allow her any relief, however, not remembering what had happened only a short time ago in the kitchen with her son, her need obvious even though her memory was proving to be rather faulty when she needed it to be most accurate. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel, a little shaky and “juddery", but she tried to concentrate to the very best of her ability, concentrating on the road even as the white lines wavered before her.

“What's wrong with me?"

She couldn't put her hand down, not there, but what was wrong was kind of obvious too, even if she didn't want to actively acknowledge it. Her thick length throbbed and ached for attention and Charlotte could hardly believe that she'd been so stupid as to go out without underwear that morning. How could she have forgotten such a vital thing? It was necessary – to keep her secret nonetheless from everyone around her! There was hardly anyone left in her life that knew of it and, frankly, Charlotte wanted to keep it that way even as her breath caught in her throat, hips twisting first one way and then the other as she moaned out loud, trying to buck her hips and only catching herself in the nick of time.

People are going to see...

She sweated nervously, even through her deodorant, the feminine scent covering it up at the very least. People needed not to know about her, ensuring that she would not become the talk of the bank for all the wrong reasons, her position in jeopardy for keeping a secret that would have comprised their trust in her even if it should not have. What she had between her legs should not have mattered to anyone but Charlotte had not gotten as far as she had in life by not taking everything into account and making well and sure that no one had anything to talk about behind her back that she cared that much about. Let them wonder about her diet, how she looked as good as she did, whether she'd gotten a boob job or not. Those slivers of petulant gossip were of absolutely no significance to her when it came down to the monster of a secret she was holding back in store.

Her cock throbbed and she groaned again, panting lightly, smudging her lipstick as her tongue swept out across her lips. She'd have to do that again: damn it. Unable to do anything else right then and there, she pulled over in an empty parking lot, choosing the corner by a high wall that but would at least enclose her on most sides at once. It wasn't perfect by any means but in situations like hers it was quite clear that beggars could not very well be choosers. She could only do so much.

She had to do something, breath catching, her suit seeming suddenly too restrictive around her breasts. It wasn't what she would normally do, that much was certain, but it was all she could do, all she had in her arsenal, loosening the buttons of her suit jacket as she leaned back in her seat and switched the engine off, all for safety, of course. She was not the sort to take undue risks, as was seen with her usual choice of underwear, but she had to do something, fumbling with the seat belt as she wriggled her skirt up and her cock out into her hand with as much haste as she could possibly manage.

I've got to make this quick...

_ _

Her hand worked over her cock with practised ease and it should have been easy to reach climax easy. Not thinking about what she was doing, she leaned back, letting her head roll into the headrest, supporting her, the seat suddenly seeming a lot more comfortable now that she was taking care of the need that had taken over her day so far. Why she had not taken care of it in the shower that morning, pesky morning wood usually getting the better of her, was beyond her, but needs must as she worked on herself, moaning out loud.

“Yes..."

Her breathy moan was all that she needed to keep pushing herself on, hand working faster and faster, trying to reach that point of a high from which there was no return. Her pre-cum trickled out faintly and she used all that she could to lube up her cock, sliding her hand a little more easily along the length of it, although there wasn't enough. She was not hugely over-productive like the studs one could watch in porn videos but she was as hung as one of them – even more so in some cases, she was proud to say for herself! As much trouble as having a dick caused her, identifying otherwise as female, she wouldn't have given up the pleasure of it for anything in the world, humping and grinding up into her hand as she groaned out loud.

So close... So very close.

Yet she couldn't quite cross that edge that would tip her over into ecstasy, not noticing the ribbon, even though her hand brushed against it with every stroke. David had made sure that that would not get in the way, another little order that he had implanted in her mind before he'd sent her off to work, but Charlotte didn't remember any of that as her breasts heaved, a hand on one of them.

She had to get there, had to get off. Sweat rolled down her brow, hand working faster than ever. Why was it so difficult? Squeezing a nipple didn't do her any good either and she escalated it sharply into a pinch, catching her breath as she thrust even more vehemently than before. Anyone watching the car would have been shocked to see it rocking and jostling, from the inside out, as it was, even one of the windscreen wipers vibrating with the force of her thrusts where it had not been fixed on completely correctly.

That wasn't going to stop Charlotte searching for orgasm though, whimpering and moaning, that elusive high dancing a hair's breadth out of her reach. Swapping between her breasts, reaching a point of desperation, didn't help her out at all either and she kept on working and trying, heaving for breath as she strained with all her might to get off.

“Come on!"

Shouting in frustration wasn't about to get her anywhere either, even if it did not stop her from doing it, shoving her back up against the window as she changed her position – as if that was going to help her! Yet she didn't know how the ribbon was stopping her from getting, squeezing and rubbing her breasts, her nipples as sensitive as they always were, more buttons popped open to allow her easier access down the front of her shirt. Sweaty and dishevelled, she tried with all her might and growled out loud, lips twisting into an ugly sort of grimace as her dark hair clung lightly to the back of her neck, dampened with sweat.

It was not to be, however, her son having done far too good of a job in ensuring that her cock was tied up and bound so that she could not orgasm, her mind forced into horny endeavours and, of course, her pills forgotten. Charlotte did not even register the fact that she had not taken her pills that morning, the thought passing her by, and moaned in a far less sexual manner than she had before as she left her cock spring back into position, her trembling hand slipping away. While the car stank of sweat and perfume and the oddly thick aroma of pre-cum (it had always caught her attention, perhaps as she still preferred feminine scents for herself when picking them out) hanging about her.

Her cock refused to soften even as she sat there, pushing the time for as long as she could before she simply had to tug her skirt back down and hope against hope that nothing would leak through. The hard length ached for attention that she could not give it right then and there, wanting escape and pleasure at the same time. All she had to do was to get off and everything would be okay again, she was sure, but it simply wasn't meant to be as it throbbed and throbbed, glistening with smeared pre-cum, although even that had to dry at some point.

Breathing shortly and sharply, Charlotte flicked the sun visor down with the little mirror on the rear side, checking her make-up, which, of course, was hopelessly smudged.

“Great, just fucking great..."

It would have to be fixed in pronto time but what she could not smooth out in the heat of the moment was the raging hard-on between her legs that she did not understand one bit, why it wouldn't just go down eventually. Her loins tingled with need, mind wandering to more lustful endeavours even as she fixed her mascara, and she groaned in the back of her throat, imagining, even then, a nice, hard length of cock pounding her pussy full. Where it would not have teased out the neediness from her shaft, it would have at least given her some modicum of pleasure, enough to ease it down, she was sure.

Sighing, she pressed down on her skirt, lips turned down, the bulge too obvious to be mistaken for anything else.

She'd have to go to work either way.

*

Sitting at work was another thing entirely, shifting her weight as she hid the fact that she had a massive hard-on under the desk from anyone who walked by. Her chair was scooted in closer to the wood of the desk than it would usually have been and she tried her best to appear devoted and taken in by her work as she leaned over the desk. She had to make sure that no one could see, that her secret would not be revealed. But why wouldn't the bulge soften? Why wouldn't it go down? It had never been like that before! Charlotte had only just managed to get to her desk, in an office shared between only four, thankfully, with her large purse covering her crotch, although that in itself was a challenge, moving awkwardly, sideways like a crab.

“Everything okay, Charlotte?"

“Yes!"

She snapped, eyebrows shooting up as if she could not believe that Peter had dared disturb her in her work again, though that was not entirely out of character for her. Her work was high-up and required a fair amount of concentration, only sharing an office at that point with others on a similar level to her due to an office move. When they changed to a place where she could have her own office again she would be a lot happier and undoubtedly so would the people that she shared the workplace with.

Peter skedaddled off as quick as she could have liked, leaving her to her grumpiness, a coffee mug cradled in her hand. Someone had brought her that earlier but she hadn't thanked them for it.

The phone rang – finally! Some work that may be something of a distraction! Her cock had softened a little by that time but still left a noticeable bulge.

“Good morning, Ms Moor speaking."

A shade more polite than usual, her emotions ping-ponged from one extreme to the other, nails nervously tap-dancing on the desk.

“Hi, mom."

Oh, so it was just David, that was okay, she could kill some time talking to him, maybe even fake some family emergency and flounce out of the office as if the hounds of hell were hot upon her heels. No one would question her as long as she was convincing about it and, well, her attitude (nothing more than businesslike, if it had been seen on a man) was legendary in the company. They wouldn't stop her and, frankly, Charlotte was sure that her manager was a little bit scared of her, which suited her just fine.

Her shaft was still hard and her mind wandered as they talked, her tone strictly businesslike at all times. She had a reputation and an image to keep up to, yes, of course, and always had to be on point, on the ball, everything coming together as neatly as she could have ever liked it to, yes, thank you. Always right, never wrong: that was her motto of the day, of her life, in fact. Charlotte had everything in hand, under control, even as her cock ached and pulsated, her pussy damp too between her thighs. But no one would know about that because she was the woman with everything under her thumb, always on top of everything at all times.

That was her.

“Yes, son, take care now."

Hanging up, she stared at the desk phone for a moment, blinking dumbly. Who had she been talking to? It didn't seem right that she did not remember but she was standing before she knew it, tugging at her skirt even though her hard-on made a shape in the front, half-soft and not helping her out one bit there. Her purse had to cover it again as she excused herself but there was, fortunately, no one else but her in the office at that moment, slipping out and into the hallway in a brisk clip of her nude pumps.

Oh, yes, it was David, that was it. She'd been talking to David, of course, she had! He'd said something and then nothing after that seemed to matter as her lips stretched into a sweetly beatific smile, walking down the hallway with purpose.

The bathroom... Yes. That was it. She had to get to the bathroom. That was all that mattered, all that she had to do, even forgetting to cover her crotch as her pencil skirt bulged out, the slit at the front all the more obvious for it and taking on a crude edge that should not have been there. Fortunately for Charlotte, there was no one there to see her as she made her way off at a brisk clip, arms swinging lightly, not even caring right then and there that her cock was practically out and on show for all it was hidden at that very moment.

What she didn't know was that one of the first things that David had said to her on the phone had been that devious little trigger phrase, “sleeping beauty". Once that was said, she was gone, completely and utterly, under his power even though he could call it back down on her at any time and in any place. Charlotte was none the wiser about what he had ordered her to do but the fervent aching in her balls, still burning for release, was impossible to ignore, either way, even her breasts seeming overly sensitive in the cup of her bra.

The bathroom stalls beckoned and she groaned in the back of her throat as she hustled into the nearest one, not even trying to get into a back one, her need far too urgent for that. The only thing in her mind was what he had told her to do, even if she was not aware that it was a direct order from the one that controlled her. She had to masturbate, had to try to jerk off, had to get some relief, biting her lip to keep herself at least somewhat quiet.

Her skirt tugged up with some discomfort but Charlotte wasn't thinking about something as menial as that as she gripped her shaft, bare and hard, desperate for attention. Why did she not pay it as much attention as it should have gotten? Pushing through a mind filled with swirling, pulsing fog, she could only see one goal, a single target, and that was her shaft, how sweetly and desperately it ached, the drip glistening with tantalising pre-cum. If that cock had been present on a man she adored she would have had it within her mouth and suckled off that lightly musky essence in but a single moment, dropping to her knees fluidly as she took what she believed was her due.

No... Charlotte was not the sort of woman to go without what she wanted but what she wanted was no longer of any great significance in the grand scheme of things. All that mattered was that she worked her cock over, pumping it slowly, savouring the moment, letting the pleasure build and build even as the soft sound of her jerking off filled the bathroom. On that floor of the building, where she was, there were only five stalls – perhaps an oversight considering the number of women that worked at the company but that was not something that she was willing to take on her shoulders at that time. She was quick enough, usually, in the bathroom, considering how her “plumbing" was, but Charlotte had no intention of hastening her release and exit, panting softly, the lightest of moans teasing by her lips like a lover's kiss.

It was good, so very good, and she could almost imagine right then and there that she was being watched, that she had wanton eyes fixed on her, watching her, taking in every last detail about her. Putting on a show had never been something that had ever particularly been of significant note in Charlotte's sexual endeavours but it brought a deep red flush to her cheeks, breaking out in heated patches, as she moaned and panted, leaning against the back wall of the toilet stall as if she was aiming to cum straight into the toilet itself. Whereas it would have made for easy clean-up, the stall simply was not large enough for her to do all that much, a stray strand of hair floating across her face as she huffed and grunted as if she was in the middle of something even more erotic.

The ribbon gleamed in the sharp, unflattering light of the bathroom, the overhead lighting strips buzzing faintly. They'd have to get those looked at, sometime, but they were hardly anything of all that high priority and Charlotte knew that too as her hand squeezed her shaft a little harder, feeling how the skin gave slightly before succumbing to the firmness within. There was an aching hardness to that rod that had to be attested to and she rocked her hips proudly as if daring anyone to match up to her, fat nuts swinging behind in obvious and rampant need.

Yet she was not in such a state of mind where she knew the ribbon was there, let alone what it would not allow her to do, and kept on, pulling the skin back from the head of her cock to expose the faintly gleaming tip. The slit begged the probe of a tongue and she moaned out loud, forgetting herself as she imagined a mouth closing around it, suckling it deep. Yet that was not something that she'd had for a long time, as pleasurable as it was, so long ago, in fact, that she barely remembered what it felt like. Her mind could fill in the gaps for her, however, and she panted heavily, bosom heaving, as her mind's eye brought to life the picture of a busty, blonde woman with cherry-red lips sucking her cock, on her knees where she was supposed to be.

“Yes... Oh... Oh, yessss..."

Charlotte couldn't contain herself, didn't want to contain herself. There had been too much restraint of late and she ground her teeth together, stifling her lust as the stall walls rattled. She hadn't even realised how she had shifted position, pushing her shoulder blades back roughly into the wall that adjoined another stall. It was not fitted well into the frame and she grunted thickly, headily, head swimming with lust as she braced her legs and locked out her knees, striving for her ultimate pleasure above all else, need racing through her like the most potent of drugs. Not trying to be as quiet as she, perhaps, should have been, the sound of fapping filled the room, more and more pre-cum trickling out over her hand. Charlotte gasped. Had she always been able to make that much pre-cum? Maybe she was more productive in that way than she thought. Maybe she had always been like that. It was hard to say when it was a part of her body that, for so very long, she had ignored to the very best of her ability.

Orgasm pushed at the back of her mind and, without thinking, she eagerly reached for it. What else could Charlotte do but expect, of course, that it would be hers to take? She didn't know that her son had ordered her not to come, caught up in a trance that allowed her to feel all that she normally felt and yet stifled her inhibitions so that they, for all intents and purposes, were no more. She didn't know that her life was no longer her own and her body most certainly was not either, her son right then and there sitting back in her husband's old study chair with his cock in his hand, imagining what his mother was doing.

He lusted for her as much as her mind wandered, lusting for him, lusting for others, considering souls and bodies that she had never before thought about in any kind of sexual manner. She didn't want him on his knees before her – no, that would not have been fitting, not for him – but her son was strong and fit in her mind, smirking and standing tall as he bore her down to her knees. He'd tell her to suck his cock and she shuddered as she obeyed, taking him deep, a hard length pushing straight up into the back of her throat. In her fantasy, she didn't even gag, swallowing reflexively and keeping him there, letting him twist his fingers into her hair and drag her head back and forth, fucking her mouth as just another hole and part of her body to be used. Charlotte shuddered. That was all she was...to be used. Why had she ever wanted to be on top and in control in the first place?

She could not remember how she had been before, what had brought her the most pleasure and the most lust, her mind wandering as her hand sped up to a scene where she was on all fours on the bed, her son fucking her cunt as if it was the last fuck she would ever get from anyone at all. He slammed into her in her mind's eye even as her hand sped up, jerking her cock with raw desperation, another busty woman sprawled out beneath her, taking her cock deep into her mouth while she lay on her back on the bed, throat bulging with the effort it took to swallow up such a meaty length.

“Fuck..."

Charlotte didn't know that it wasn't like her, not like that, to swear the back of her neck damp with sweat as another bead rolled down her forehead. She was hot, far too hot, and had no relief from it, bucking and grinding, tipping forward again as she hunched over herself, standing bent over without bracing on anything in the cubicle at all. She panted out loud, wanting that release, but no matter how hard she worked her hand, that pleasure seemed to linger just out of her reach, taunting her with the proximity of it and yet never quite delivering all that she wanted.

Huffing, she brushed a stray strand of hair (there were more and more of those as her pleasure grew) back behind her ear. It would not stay there for very long.

“Alright then, if you want to play it that way..."

Not to be put off with such need raging through her, lighting a trickling, steaming course of fire in her veins, she unbuttoned her shirt, breath harsh and ragged, clawing at her throat. Her shirt could be unbuttoned with a hand that, surprisingly, did not tremble, suit jacket hanging open, though it did little to air out her massively overheated body, every last fibre of her being trembling with bursting need. About to overflow and yet not able to, she caressed her breasts, sliding her hand under her purple, lace-trimmed bra, a number that always made her want to pause a moment longer and look in the mirror in the morning, admiring just how her form had lasted into late middle-age. Sure, she'd had David when she'd been on the younger side but she had matured well, her breasts supported though by the brassiere that highlighted all of her very best assets and kept the ones that she would much rather glance over neatly tucked out of the way.

Her nipples perked up against her fingers and she exhaled in a rush of breath, head rolling back even though it could not stay there. No, there was too much tension lacing her body, tension that needed some kind of release, trying and trying to get it but, alas, finding nothing. As much as her cock drooled and twitched and throbbed, there was nothing to cum from the rise and fall of pleasure, feeling as if she was just about to crest the peak of ecstasy but never quite getting there. It didn't make sense but that lack of making sense failed to register in her mind as she whimpered, humping and grinding into her hand with increasing desperation. Squeezing her breasts and even using her nails harder than usual on her nipples did not bring any release or manner of pleasure that could get her there either, panting and whimpering as she tried for something that simply was not within her realm of possibility at that time.

She didn't know that. Thus, she would keep right on trying and trying, no matter how futile it was.

The door opened but she did not freeze, her hand moving more slowly as she pressed her lips together. Who was that? Was it someone she worked with? Charlotte did not dare say anything but neither could she bear to stop as someone slipped into the adjacent stall, breaking all manner of bathroom codes, and relieved themselves. Thankfully it was short and sweet, although she could not stop her hand from pumping her length, teasing up and down, trying to remain quiet at all costs. As much as her wavering, drifting mind wanted to imagine her son and others watching her, she by no means wanted to get caught with her dick in her palm by someone at work!

They left but that just seemed to start a run of people needing the bathroom, Charlotte forced to press a hand over her lips as someone else entered the bathroom practically straight after them, taking their time as they fussed over something or the other.

Charlotte groaned under her breath, doing all she could to stifle the sound. Just what were they doing in there? Did they hang out in the bathroom all day or what? She never took that much time in the bathroom herself, preferring efficiency over all else – the primping and relaxation side of bathroom activity only came when she was home! Others didn't seem to think the same way, humming a tune to themselves as they took their sweet time about relieving themselves, rummaging through their purse at the same time.

“Oh!"

A clatter rattled through the hollow, echoing bathroom and Charlotte froze, her legs spread as much as her tight skirt would allow and facing the wrong way to be sitting on the toilet, feasibly by anyone who looked under the divider, at that moment. Yet there was not a hand but a small, black tube that rolled under the divider, marked at one end with the words, “Sunset Glow." Charlotte swore inwardly. Lipstick! Was that what the other idiot was doing in there? Why didn't she use the mirror in the bathroom and get the hell out? Didn't she have any idea just how unhygienic that was?

But what was she to do about it? What could she do about it? Bright red nails flashed as the other woman scraped and fumbled about under the divider, hardly reaching into Charlotte's stall at all as Charlotte inched away, eyes wide and her cock still hard. She hadn't stopped masturbating even though her pace had slowed, heart pounding and blood roaring dully between her ears.

“Er..."

Charlotte gulped, the pre-cum drooling over her hand. But there wasn't even any toilet roll left in the stall! How was she supposed to wipe it off?

“Oh, can you pass that back, please?" The person in the next stall said, perhaps only just then realising that they weren't alone. “That's my favourite colour."

If it was her favourite colour then she should have damn well kept hold of it, Charlotte thought to herself, mumbling something that she hoped passed for communication enough as she used the toe of her shoe to scoot the lipstick tube back under the divider. It was not the easiest thing to do but it was better than letting whoever was in there see her cum-marked hand, though she still hadn't gotten to cum as yet, breath harder and harder to glean as she sweated more than she was strictly comfortable with. Her deodorant, much to her chagrin, was not standing up to the trails of the day by any means.

“Thanks!"

That was the end of that and Charlotte was left alone once more, squatting down and balancing against the wall with one shoulder, trying out a new position. Maybe that would work, her spread legs allowing her balls to swing freely, although it was all that she could do to hold the position, thighs and calves burning, screaming for a break. Yet that release had to come, her hand working furiously, sliding more slickly over her hot length than ever. The sound ramped up tenfold in the echoing privacy of the bathroom and Charlotte grunted softly, eagerly pushing on for that high with her pussy dripping between her legs. People said that a woman could not get that wet but maybe it was a product of her having both sexes that made her cream so hard, her pussy soaked even through the very light hair on her outer folds. It splattered down to the floor between her legs almost as loudly as the sound of her masturbating, but that side of her was not destined to be teased at that time while her cock remained the main event.

Alas, even as she got close, someone else entered the bathroom at the wrong time, laughing at something that another person again had said out in the corridor before entering.

“Yeah, Dave... Wow, just Dave. I'll meet you there in a moment!"

Her heels click-clacked and Charlotte would have frowned if she was not engaged in stopping every last moan that wished to rise from her from slipping by her lips. Her make-up was smudged terribly but she could not even be glad in the moment that she didn't have a mirror to see just how bad it was, panting lightly, her hand working harder and faster, not wanting to stop. Maybe if she just kept going, while they were there, instead of stopping, she'd be able to get off and everything would be alright again? It was all she had going for her, head spinning and pounding, taking leave of her senses in the moment when they may very well have benefitted her the most. Yet there was nothing she could do, fallen prey to the whims of her lustful body, standing again with bent knees and leaning into the wall, unable to stop the whisper of a groan from pulling up from the back of her throat.

In the next stall, the occupant stilled, not even a rustle of clothing breaching the quiet. All the while, Charlotte's hand worked and worked, pumping and sliding, the sound of skin on skin horrifically loud. And yet she couldn't stop herself!

Come on...

_ _

So close, so very close, and yet so far at the same time. She hardly breathed, throat tight, yet she was ever-aware that she was so close to being rumbled, imagining that her cock was drooling cum right then and there, orgasm flowing through her even when it was not.

Please...

“Is everything okay in there?" The other person asked, hesitation routing their tone. “There's an odd noise..."

Charlotte's words locked up in her throat. What was she to do? What could she even say? There was nothing that could make think to make it right, to make it better than things already were.

And then the words came out in a rush, bubbling up in a way that she could not control, lips parting, words falling.

“I'm really close."

And then silence. Never before had any kind of silence been so terrifying to a woman who, by all means, dominated it. She was not one to be silenced but the one to silence others and relish in it, heart beating too quickly, skin hot and flushed. The words were out there but the revelation of them lost in the confusion of misinformation.

Please... Leave.

“Oh... Okay."

They didn't need to know what to make of that as they finished up with their business, clearly, though Charlotte could not have been more grateful than she was that they left, even if her climax still had not arrived. What was wrong with her that she couldn't get off, working her cock, moaning, huffing and panting, even groping her breasts like a virgin trying to get their rocks off for the first time? That wasn't like her, not like her at all, her inner thighs slick with her feminine arousal, that part of her body not failing to respond to all of it either.

But she couldn't give up, wouldn't give up, not even as she had no choice, seemingly, other than to give up, her cock sore and swollen, yet orgasm was not hers to claim. As much as Charlotte whined and slammed her palm into the wall, there was nothing she could do to get herself over that tantalising, mocking edge, what had been so easy for her before and yet was impossible with the ribbon where it was. The ribbon had not survived, so far, completely intact either, tugged a little loose but otherwise unharmed with dark patches of sweat marking it where it had pressed back up against her body and, of course, the stain of pre-cum that had nowhere else to go.

Sighing, she stayed there for a moment, her head bowed between her arms, two palms flat on the wall of the stall. Calming, breathing: that was all she had to think about as she brought herself back to reality, trying to get her cock to soften, although that too was a trial in itself that she had not been expecting to meet. Before she pulled her skirt back down, however, she paused, cupping and rolling her balls experimentally between her fingers, the orbs seeming different in some way. But what was wrong?

Her balls were definitely larger than they had been, the skin taking on a darker tint too as if there was too much blood in the area – but Charlotte was not a medical professional by any means. Swallowing hard, she inspected them closely, though the only lumps and bumps that she found were exactly what was to be expected of her testicles, the churning seed within almost seeming to vibrate beneath her fingers, her nervous system going haywire.

Skin crawling and itching with erotic need, she allowed her nuts to drop again, trying to slow her breathing, yet there was little that could do that as her cock softened only a little. Would it be enough to get her back to her desk? Who was to say?

Work called.

Maybe I should visit the doctor...

_ _

Yet there was no doctor in the world who could explain what was happening to her.