Follow Sue

I'm dreaming, Sue Storm thought, as her strangely heavy hands touched the dick. Her dick. She could feel it beneath her fingers, and she could feel her fingers on her crotch. In the darkness, she became more aware of the smells—a sort of low-level testosterone reek that she remembered too many times in her life. Her brother Johnny's crusty socks when he'd hit that age, and Sue had to do the laundry. Reed's funky underwear when he forgot to change his clothing after three days in the lab. It was everywhere and all over her.

Yet Sue knew this had to be a dream, some weird repressed sexuality finding expression, because as her fingers groped her cock—it was a lot of cock. Almost as long as her arm, and so thick at the base that she needed both hands to circle it, though it tapered toward the tip until her fingers could circle the weird, soft, floppy foreskin.

With a yank, she pulled the foreskin back, and she was almost bowled over by both the smell and the sensation. The reek made her nose—was it even a nose?—twitch. Something shifted inside her body, a twinge down below between her legs. Sue ran a hand over the tip of her cock and shivered in strange ecstasy at the unexpected sensation. Her other hand delved down between her legs and felt a huge sack.

Balls, Sue realized as she felt a pair of huevos the size of ostrich eggs—or at least, that's how big they seemed in the darkness. I have balls. That means—

There is a certain odd logic that comes to people in dreams, or when they think they're dreaming; the ability to wonder, and to sate that curiosity. A breakdown in inhibitions. After all, what harm can come in a dream?

Which is why in the darkness, small pig-like eyes seemed to glitter as Sue Storm indulged a particularly dark fantasy. Her mouth gaped open wide as she handled the head of her ridiculously long cock toward her. Lips closed over it, and a comically oversized tongue slurped at her super-sensitive glans. The taste was a bit familiar; she'd indulged Reed with blowjobs on his birthdays, anniversaries...she would have gladly dropped to her knees and sucked him off in his lab some quiet evening, if he could pull himself away from his electron microscopes.

She had always wondered what it felt like.

Now, as strange, unfamiliar sensations wracked her great sweaty, grunting body, Sue knew. Her mind reeled at the sensations, so much like those rare times when Reed kissed her clit, and yet so much more prevalent, so, all-encompassing.

Then something exploded within her. The heroine's mind went blank as a damn burst at the base of her prick, and those fat nuts squeezed and lifted. A line of fire seemed to burn itself from the root of her tower of cock to the very tip, and in anticipation of what was about to happen Sue Storm sucked harder...harder...to the very brink of pain as her teeth brushed the sensitive foreskin—and when that how liquid shot hit the back of her throat, it seemed for a moment like the top of her skull lifted off and Sue was set adrift...

The alarm blared, and Sue Storm's eyes opened up, to see the familiar shape of her own ceiling. She looked down at herself, and saw her own breasts, her own hands and body.

The dream was over. Yet something was different. For a moment, Sue didn't know what it was.