Above the pleasure of her masturbation, stood the sensation of pumping out so much fluid. The touch of her hands and fingers was nice, wonderful even, yet they were but a means to an end. With more time to spare, Kasey could cum without a single touch, brought to the brink time and again by her production alone. Her pussy clenched and shoved a fresh torrent out. The pressure shoved against her walls, stimulating every slight crevice. Likewise, her prick convulsed in pleasure as it spewed pre-cum.
The process alone made her crave more. First, her pre welled up within her balls, they swelled with it, often expanding from apples into grapefruits, sometimes beyond if she went too long between releases. Once her blood flowed into her cock, erecting her foot-long slab of meat, her bloated testes clenched and pushed her pre-cum through her shaft. It stretched the tube along the way, pressing against nerve-endings throughout every inch. Then came her release.
Her pussy resembled it but on a greater level. Rather than releasing spurts alongside the ebb and flow of her pleasure, her prolific cunny gushed regardless of stimulation. Kasey panted as her movements hastened, compelling still greater levels of production. Her toes curled within the pussy-infused dirt, as her hands slid and pumped respectively. One arm was covered in juices to the elbow.
Her breaths stuttered as she moaned higher. Slimy cock juice rocketed from the tip, each spurt cloudier than the last, inundated with sperm. The rainfall of her pussy intensified. Kasey opened her eyes, staring down at her stroking hand through a half-lidded gaze. Her lewd shaft and hand glistened in the dull light, coated in layer upon layer of dick goo. A pressure built deep within her gut, forcing her to bend as she masturbated faster.
"Yes, yes, yes... hmm, yeah!" Kasey straightened her posture and thrust her hips out. She yanked her fingers from her snatch, piling another source of pleasure upon her climax. Everything went still. The air settled, far off sounds drifted away and her fluids stopped. She wasn't fooled. Kasey clamped both hands around her cock.
The shaft leapt in her grasp. Its urethra widened as an explosion of white raced forth. She'd read many erotic stories that described an orgasm as such, but this personified the words. Kasey's mouth hung open in a mix of ecstasy and undying shock. Her tar-thick jizz shot forward, charging at what had to be hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles per hour. A thunderous crack shattered the calm. In the distance, another tree swayed and fell.
A second shot followed. Opposite it, her pussy unleashed a tsunami wave of juices, every drop as pungent and enticing as any other. Her feet slid out from under her. Kasey fell on her ass. She winced and realised her face was in her cock's firing path. The futa jerked her head back as the third blast roared past. Despite the near-death experience and slight sting in her rear, Kasey moaned as her orgasm persisted for another thirty seconds.
"Fuck," Kasey said, breathless from the bliss and afterglow. Her cock had aimed up after she fell, sparing the trees any significant damage, though someone could be soaked in cum if they were unfortunate. She giggled and brushed a stray lock of red from her face. With the deposit of fresh cum, her musk came through stronger than ever. Although it could be something else, she thought and studied her filthy hands, both saturated in her fluids.
Dressed and fresh from a vigorous visit to the bathroom, Kasey sat down for the first lecture of the day. Every week she had one day of theoretical classes, each carried out in duplicates of the same room. Designed after the typical lecture halls seen in film, the room slanted down to the front, with rows upon rows of desks elevated upon each other. Student works hung on the walls and oversaw each line. As though the alumni judged the present.
Their presence did nothing to Kasey. She worked hard and enjoyed doing so. No, they were unimportant in her mind, nothing more than a bar she needed to stand above. They hung there to encourage and stress students. She lived under a constant barrage of pressure each day, long before she moved from Britain. Though it had increased since then.
In no small part due to Grace. She slept in nothing more than a pair of shorts and a loose belly shirt, which often went askew during the night and offered a blatant view of her nipples. When she woke, she refused to get dressed until her run, giving Kasey an outstanding display of her honed figure. And shower days were the worst. Grace claimed to enjoy maximum comfort when at 'home' and forewent a towel anytime she could. Even the dorm inspectors had given up on her.
Grace had different classes to her. At first, she thought it a blessing, a respite from the gorgeous athlete. But, where Grace couldn't be, something far worse took her place.
"Hi, Kasey," Beth said as she passed and took her seat. She sat two rows down from Kasey, slouched forward on her desk to rest atop her breasts, each mound, huge and braless, squished through the tortured tank top she wore. A large jacket rested on her chair. Her mini-skirt and pantyhose were hidden by the plastic desk, yet no less tantalising as Kasey pictured the girl's plump thighs.
She turned her head to flash Kasey a lax grin, unperturbed with paying attention as the lecturer walked in. Beth's attention remained fixed upon the secret futa, whose own eyes shot between the speaker, a dull woman with greyed hair and a dry approach to art, and the girl. Both had their merits. One could pass or fail her. The other could fuel another spectacular orgasm.
Kasey pinched herself and focused on the class. A trickle of moisture brimmed from her snatch and ran down her thigh, staining its in path into her oil black jeans. An acceptable lapse, she thought, but one that couldn't happen again. Not until she had the time and freedom to masturbate, which, in itself, lied the problem. Each time she brought herself to a mind-addling climax, she craved another. Even now, in a place surrounded by people, her desire simmered beneath the surface.
The class progressed. Kasey locked her gaze to her notebook and the pen, guiding its movements into a purposeful pattern of elegant script, regardless of how far behind she became. Anything to spare her the torment of Beth's visage again. She and Grace tested her restraint to its limits, though the former was unintentional. Beth made it a point to be in her view often as possible. She couldn't be warm dressed as she was, nor did it seem practical. Her top looked poised to tear any moment.
Kasey jerked her head back down. When had she started staring? No more. The futa flipped to the back of her book and let the pen fall, free to draw whatever it wished. Once an outline was complete, she could fall into the trance of completion, filling in minor details and added greater ones as necessary. She paused as the erotic shape of Beth formed on the lined paper.
A walking wet dream, the futa thought. Her swift outline didn't compare to the real thing mere feet away, but it conveyed enough to stoke her desire. Svelte features juxtaposed with curves so thick few girls could contend. Kasey looked to her drawing's muse, whose gaze hadn't drifted.
A strong, narrow jawline led into Beth's short, platinum hair. Minimal makeup masked her features, the most obvious being the blue eyeshadow framing her sleek glasses. She sported pouted lips, painted in azure and a slight, pointed nose. A faint scar marred her left cheek. Powerful, if minimal muscles lined her back and, Kasey presumed, her pecs to support envious bosom.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Kasey paused her inspection of the striking girl at the subtle sound. Her jeans squelched as she moved her leg, drenched from crotch to bottom, while her underwear strained against a burgeoning erection. She glanced about. No one looked her way, unaware as to the crisis befalling her. The futa tilted her head and spread her thighs. A puddle had formed on her chair. To anyone else, they might assume she had wet herself, a prospect she wished were true. The sharp snap of a pencil whipped her head up.
She didn't discover the source of the noise. Her gaze levelled on Beth's unwavering stare, caught in her hazel eyes. The dripping turned to a dense splash. Everyone turned in Kasey's direction, brows creased in annoyance and curiosity. Her teacher followed suite, though her gaze carried a far greater weight. Kasey grabbed her bag and rushed from the lecture. At the door, she hesitated and glanced back.
Beth also stood. Seated, her breasts were enormous globes of delight trapped within her clothes. Standing, they hung past her waist and extended several inches to the front and sides. Captivating cleavage sank into the depths of her tank top, the straps of which strained to level their dual burdens. Kasey moaned and sprinted from the room, leaving a puddle on the ground.
"Oh, fuck me!" Kasey groaned when she stepped into the hall. On either side, students approached, either to pass through or wait for their own class in that room. Fear did nothing to temper her arousal. Kasey weighed her options. Each path was crowded, students shoulder to shoulder, blocking anyone from creating space or backing away. To her right, she saw the girl's bathroom. Going inside wasn't a choice. Try and slip past the others, or retreat into the restroom.
