Money is transferred! Yay!

Aaron blinked eight times. He refreshed his phone, making sure the number was displayed properly and it wasn't an illusion.

'Eight million dollars. Jesus.'

Aaron had underestimated Tanya and her willingness to pay him. She had been so impressed by his performance that she tipped him another million. Next time, which she requested be sometime next month, she asked for a similarly ascending experience. Aaron said he'd think about it but seeing the money in front of him gave him motivation like none other. Tanya had set up an account under her name but gave the pin, card, and mobile banking details to him. She told the bank the account was intended for her youngest daughter, Tiffany, and that the young girl would be using the account for her newly updated allowance. The bank didn't suspect anything. Why would they, when the reason was so innocent and it was said from the mouth of Gotham's richest wife.

Aaron called a taxi and went home. Sitting in the back of the car, looking out the window and peering at the streets of Gotham, he reflected on what happened.

'Is this god's way of telling me to never do race play again? Because fuck it, consider my retirement. I won't do it again.'

Aaron came a lot. He knew that. But what happened with Tanya was completely different. He was a literal water hose, pumping out cum as if it came from the ocean. It was uncomfortable. His head hurt from the sensory overload.

'There's only one suspect: Poison Ivy. Her pheromones or whatever did something to me. I shouldn't have been an idiot, I should have told the hospital that I had problems.' Aaron cursed to himself. 'Now I have a mega big dick and a set of balls that might not stop cumming once they unwind.'

Aaron didn't feel any aftereffects. No ache, no pain, nothing. If this was some sort of upgrade, he didn't want it. He was fine with what he had before. A foot long dong, a nice litre bottle's worth of cum, and a standing erection that went down as he willed it. But now he was closer to fourteen inches with balls that kept spewing and spewing until he could fill a bucket.

He handed his taxi driver the precise amount of his trip and opened the car door. He had taken maybe four steps before he was interrupted.

"Um, sir–"

By a homeless girl.