Tracer

Tracer sprawled across the plush, latex covered king bed in the apartment she shared with Emily, her long legs toned, smooth, and perpetually glistening with dried white streaks hooked up around one of the decorative throw pillows. Since turning eighteen, her entire biology had shifted into that glorious, mindless state: the spermivor high. The constant, rich feeling of being "fed" was like the most addictive drug in existence, and she was absolutely hooked.

Her skin looked absolutely immaculate that healthy, dewy glow that came from having nothing but high protein cum in her system. Because she didn't produce solid waste, her lower stomach was flat and tight, showing just the faint, clean lines of her pussy lips and asshole, which were usually pink and slightly irritated in the best way possible.

She arched her back, enjoying the pleasant tingle in her insides the feeling of the leftover thick cum still dripping down the cleft of her ass and pooling just at the rim and looked over at Emily, who was busy peeling off her micro skirt, which was practically transparent from today's multiple feedings.

"Oh god, Em..." she sighed, voice breathier and dumber than it was even six months ago, though she didn't remember what "smarter" felt like. "Today was like, the best day. I feel so full. Like, stuffed."

She rubbed one hand down the inside of her thigh, where a particularly thick, ropey strand of white was slowly dribbling out of her pussy slit, sticking to the latex of the bed. Most of it was viscous and creamy, like a rich custard, the kind that was absolutely packed with the daily nutrients she craved.

"That guy at the coffee shop the tall one with the absolutely humongous cock he gave me so much," she boasted, though it was in that self competitive way that most girls did, trying to prove she was the more "grateful" and "efficient" slut. "I took it all orally, like, three whole rounds. I gagged so good, and he just kept pumping more and more. I swallowed every single drop. Didn't spill a speck on my top, either."

She spread her legs even wider, letting the sticky white trail form a messy little puddle on the shiny black latex beneath her tush, wanting Emily to admire how well she had "collected" the man's gift.