(Many thanks to those who commented so favorably on Volume the first. I'm hard at work on Volume 3. If you want more updates on my work and where I'm at in the creative process, check out my blog or twitter feed! Enjoy Volume 2! ^_^)
Volume 2: Erin's Transformation
I woke up slowly in the middle of my soft queen-sized bed, sheets tucked around my naked body like a cocoon, blinds on the window letting in a small amount of golden morning light. Memories of yesterday afternoon broke against my consciousness like waves crashing against the seashore: my mouth tasting the hardness of a man for the first time, that same hardness being forced between my shapely legs. Having those legs thrown over his shoulders so he could fuck me nice and deep.
The image of a disembodied magical cock disappearing inside my body and my pussy lips closing over it, sealing it inside me.
Did I dream that this cock was attached to my father at one point? And my grandmother? Who happens to be dead by the way?
I remembered waking up in the darkened attic, smelling of sex and sweat. Mom and Dad had been calling my cell for twenty minutes; both of them ready to leave. I answered their calls, voice shaky, and told them where I was and that I'd be down in a minute. I hit the bathroom first thing and spent twenty minutes attempting to re-align my scent away from 'nineteenth century whorehouse' to Irish Spring.
They swallowed my story that I had been napping and chalked up my appearance to the filthiness of the attic. Neither could understand how I actually napped up there.
The memories seemed unimportant now. My fingers were sliding easily into my weeping pussy. I ran my other hand over my thighs, tummy, and breasts; pinching my nipples and trying not to moan too loudly lest my parents hear.
I frigged myself for less than five minutes before climaxing quietly and settling down for another few minutes sleep before I got up and had a shower. You'd think that after having the most athletic, erotic, and pleasurable sexual experience of my adult life I might feel a little sore or just be downright exhausted. Nothing could be further from the truth, I felt good.
Really good.
I checked myself out in our bathrooms full-length mirror after exiting the shower. A dripping wet eighteen-year-old S-L-U-T stared back at me.
I looked so yummy, I wanted to eat myself, or have someone eat me.
Thankfully it was Saturday. My parents had gotten up early for their morning walk, much to my mothers chagrin no doubt. Dad insists on at least one early morning walk for them during the week. Despite loving having that time together, my mom is resistant to the idea of rising before 8AM.
The only way Dad's able to get her out of bed some mornings is by threatening to withhold sex.
A threat of withholding sex from my mother is not a 'stick' per se, merely a cleverly disguised carrot. If she indulges my father's walking habit, he pleases her with his carrot.
Part of me wanted to try and forget about the previous day, the lustful thoughts surrounding my father, and the strange memories of my grandmother's ghost. I decided to drop by and visit my best friend Cory. Cory and I had been friends for most of our teenage lives. Both of our parents followed similar home schooling curricula. So we had hung out in the same small social circles as we were growing up.
The past few years had been good to his body. If it hadn't been for his annoyingly healthy relationship with another girl in our homeschool group, Cindy, I'm sure I would have taken him deep inside of me by now.
Knocking on his front door got me nothing. Walking around to his fenced in backyard found me everything. Cory in a pair of swim trunks. Yard work! I rubbed my thighs together and wondered what his skin tasted like. He had always been cute.
God what a butt!
That butt had been circling my mind like a small moon in the time it had taken me to walk the four blocks to his house, I badly wanted a bite.
"Heya Stud!" he turned, surprised, putting down his shovel and slipping off some work gloves as he walked towards me grinning.
"Hey yourself Error!" I squinted up at him, scrambling to rearrange my lustful gaze into some vague approximation of stink-eye at the lame pun on my name. I failed, grinning up at him and placing one hand on his muscular chest. Yum.
"You wanna go inside for a bit Cor? Cool off, hang out." Fuck your best friend until she claws the skin off your back?
I almost said that last part.
Oops.
"I really need to finish this yard work-"
"C'mon good lookin, just a quick break, nobody will know, your mom isn't home right?"
"Yeah, she's not home for a few hours, I'm leaving for work before she gets back and-" I place my right hand over my heart, a bit closer to my boob than necessary and proclaim in mock honesty:
"I, Erin, do solemnly swear not to keep you from your oh-so-important work, for more than twenty minutes starting right now!" I look down at my bare wrist pretending to examine a fictitious watch. He still looks unsure. I look him straight in the eye and lick my lips, slowly. My left hand is behind my back.
He grunts as he observes this, his eyes leave mine and unfocus to stare briefly into nothing before reacquiring my face. I look down and observe a more than modest tent in his trunks, with a small dark spot where the tip of his cock should be. I reach out and wrap my hand around my best friend's bulge, a bulge that dwarfs my tiny hand and appears to be at least as sizable as Grandmother's Magically Disappearing Dildo.
"So it's decided then, we're going to go inside for about twenty minutes, and take a break together, won't we Cory?" My voice sounds like honey, Cory has no objections. I lick my lips again and observe him, his eyes are lidded, and his body is tensed in a way that suggests he could spring into action at any moment.
Perhaps using those lovely muscles to rip my clothes from my body and take me on the grass. I want to lick the curve of his neck where I can see a tendon jerk as his jaw clenches and unclenches.
He wants to take me, he WILL take me. He's a force of nature waiting to be unleashed and all it takes is a signal or gesture from me to do so. I motion him to go inside, I don't need words to control him. He's my boy now. His body and mind are instruments, and I am Michael-fucking-Kamen.
I watch his sumptuous ass as we walk. I bring my left hand from behind my back and look at my crossed fingers. I'm going to be such a bad girl tonight.
The moment we're inside I order him to call in sick and he does so, convincingly, and then looks to me for further instruction. I signal for him to wait and climb the stairs to his room, stripping off my shirt and bra as I do, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. I don't look to see if he's watching me. I can feel him in my mind: he's focused completely on me. I round the corner at the top of the stairs and enter his room.
The bed is big and comfy like mine. We had bonded on this bed over the years, platonically. Eaten junk food, watched bad movies, all the normal teenage stuff.
