Green

You find Mara in the upstairs hallway still wearing only the red sweater, the green gummy’s hunger rolling off her in waves that the Shared Heat translates into a constant, aching throb low in your own gut. She turns when she hears you, eyes immediately dropping to the front of your pants with that same open disdain.

“Back already?” she asks, voice rough. “Did you grow a real cock in the last five minutes, or are you just here to wave the baby dick at me again?”

You don’t answer with words. You simply take her wrist and lead her back down the cellar stairs. The oil lamp is still burning. The iron-bound cask sits open on the table. The packet of gummy phalli rests where you left it, the remaining shapes gleaming in translucent colors under the low light. You tear the packet wider and spread them across the wood so she can see every one.

“Choose,” you tell her.

Mara’s eyebrows lift. The Shared Heat lets you feel the spike of interest that cuts through her size-craving. She steps closer, studying the candies, then looks at you with a slow, mean little smile.

“You’re going to let me pick what happens to that little thing?” She reaches out and pokes the front of your pants with one finger. “Fine. Green. The same one I had. I want to see if it can actually turn that starter dick into something worth sitting on. If it doesn’t, I’m going to laugh until I come.”

You pick up the deep green gummy, the one shaped like a thick, curved cock. Mara watches with undisguised hunger as you place it on your tongue and chew. The sweet, almost minty flavor spreads. Then the change hits.

It starts as a deep, pulling heat in your groin. Your cock—still average, still marked by her earlier mockery—surges. The shaft thickens first, veins rising in sharp relief as the girth swells past five inches, past five and a half, locking in at a heavy, wrist-thick six inches around. Length follows in a continuous, almost violent expansion: six inches, seven, eight, finally slamming to a full nine inches of dense, veined meat that stands so hard it nearly points at the ceiling. The head flares broad and dark, already leaking a thick bead of precum. The weight of it is startling; it pulls at your hips, heavy enough that the slightest movement makes it sway.

Mara’s breath leaves her in a punched-out sound. The Shared Heat floods you with the exact moment her new size-queen wiring locks onto the transformation. Her pussy clenches so hard you feel the echo of it. Her nipples peak into tight points under the sweater. She is soaked in seconds.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers. Then louder, almost reverent: “That’s… that’s a real cock. That’s a fucking monster.”

She drops to her knees so fast her bare knees slap the stone. Both hands wrap the shaft—her fingers can’t close around the six-inch girth—and she stares at it like it’s the only thing in the world. The head alone is almost the size of a small plum, flushed dark and already shiny. She leans in and drags her tongue across it in one long, wet stripe, moaning at the taste.

“Thick,” she pants against the head. “So fucking thick. I can feel the veins on my tongue. This is what I needed. This is what that baby dick could never be.”

She opens her mouth as wide as she can and tries to take the head. It stretches her lips obscenely. She works it with determined, slutty focus—tongue swirling, spit running down the shaft in thick strands—until the broad head pops past her teeth and fills her mouth completely. She can only manage the first three inches before her throat rebels, but she doesn’t pull off. She stays there, gagging softly, eyes watering, both hands stroking the remaining six inches in long, worshipful pumps. Spit pours down over her fingers and drips onto her sweater and the floor.

You let her worship for long minutes. The Shared Heat turns every muffled moan she makes into a direct pulse of heat in your own balls. When you finally tangle a hand in her hair and push deeper, she gags hard, throat convulsing around the intrusion, but her hands only grip tighter and she pushes forward herself, determined to take more of the monster she demanded.

You pull her off with a wet, filthy sound. A rope of spit connects her swollen lips to the shiny head. Her eyes are glassy, mascara already starting to run.

“Fuck me,” she begs, voice wrecked. “Please. Stretch me open with that thing. Ruin me. I need it so deep I can taste it.”

You haul her up, spin her, and bend her over the heavy oak table. The cask and remaining gummies rattle. You yank the red sweater up to her armpits, exposing her full breasts so they press against the cool wood. Her panties are already around one ankle. Her pussy is dripping, the lips puffy and parted, a thick string of arousal connecting her thighs.

You notch the massive head against her entrance. Even with how wet she is, the six-inch girth forces her open slowly. Mara’s mouth drops wide in a silent scream as the head finally pops inside. The stretch is extreme; her lips look almost white around the thick shaft. You give her only a few seconds before you start feeding her more—inch after heavy inch—until half your length is buried and her legs are shaking.

“Oh my god—oh my fucking god—” she chokes. “It’s so thick—I can feel it splitting me—”

You bottom out in one long, relentless thrust. Nine inches of dense cock buried to the hilt, the fat head kissing her cervix, your hips pressed tight to her ass. Mara comes instantly, a full-body seizure that has her screaming into the table, walls clamping down in rhythmic, fluttering waves that massage every vein on your shaft. The Shared Heat makes her orgasm feel like it belongs to both of you; your cock throbs harder inside the vice-tight heat.

You don’t give her time to recover. You start fucking her in deep, powerful strokes—pulling out until only the head remains stretched at her entrance, then slamming back in hard enough that the table legs scrape across the stone. Every thrust forces a broken, pornographic sound out of her. Wet, filthy squelches fill the cellar. Her juices run down your balls and drip onto the floor in steady splatters.

“Harder,” she sobs. “Fuck me like a whore—use that monster cock—ruin my cunt—”

You give her exactly what she asks for. One hand fists in her hair and yanks her head back; the other reaches around to rub her swollen clit in tight, rough circles while you pound her. The contrast of the brutal depth and the precise clit work shoves her into a second orgasm within minutes, then a third stacked right on top of it. Her pussy gushes around the thick shaft, soaking your hips, the table, the floor. She goes limp and trembling, held up only by your cock and the grip in her hair, yet her hips still push back greedily for every thrust.

You pull out only long enough to flip her onto her back on the table. Her legs go over your shoulders. You fold her nearly in half and drive back in to the root. The new angle lets you watch every detail: the way her pussy lips stretch obscenely around the six-inch girth, the visible bulge low in her belly each time you bottom out, the continuous stream of cream that coats your shaft and froths at the base. Mara’s hands scramble for purchase on the edge of the table. Her breasts bounce hard with every impact. Her eyes are rolled halfway back.

“Breed me,” she gasps, voice high and broken. “Fill me up with that thick cock—pump me full—I want to feel it leaking out of me for days—”

You fuck her through two more orgasms before your own peaks. The climax is massive, pulled up from the base of your spine. You bury yourself to the hilt and unload in thick, heavy ropes—pulse after pulse of cum flooding her already-stuffed cunt until it has nowhere to go and starts forced out around the thick shaft in creamy white overflows. You keep thrusting through it, churning the mess deeper, until the last spurt leaves you shuddering.

Even then the green gummy’s temporary size and the Shared Heat refuse to let either of you stop. Your cock stays steel-hard and nine inches long inside her. Mara is a wreck—sweaty, shaking, sweater rucked up, mascara streaked, belly slightly rounded from the load she is still holding—but her legs wrap around your waist and pull you deeper.

“More,” she begs, almost crying with need. “Don’t soft. Keep using me. Fuck the cum back into me. Stretch me until I can’t walk.”

You haul her off the table, still impaled, and carry her the few steps to the nearest wall. Her back hits the cool stone. You fuck her standing, hands gripping her ass hard enough to bruise, bouncing her on the full length of the monster cock. Gravity helps every downward stroke drive you even deeper. Mara’s arms lock around your neck. She kisses you messily, all tongue and teeth and desperate moans, while her cunt ripples and squeezes in continuous aftershocks.

You last longer the second time. Long enough to carry her upstairs, still buried inside her, and throw her onto her own bed. You fuck her in every position the green gummy’s stamina allows: on her back with her knees pinned to her shoulders so she can watch the thick shaft disappear into her; face-down and ass-up while you grip her hips and rail her so hard the headboard slams the wall; on her side with one leg hooked over your arm so the angle grinds the fat head against her front wall until she squirts in helpless, repeated bursts; finally reverse-cowgirl so she can lean forward, hands on your thighs, and bounce herself on the full nine inches while you watch her stretched hole swallow and release the thick meat over and over.

Every position comes with a running stream of filthy praise and begging from her.

“It’s so deep—I can feel it in my stomach—”

“Look how wide open you made me—”

“I’ve never taken a cock this thick—fuck, it’s perfect—”

“Cum in me again—please—make me drip—”

You fill her three more times before the green gummy’s peak finally begins to ease. By then the sheets are destroyed, the air is thick with the smell of sex, and Mara is a trembling, cum-drunk mess sprawled on her back, thighs spread wide, your last load slowly leaking from her gaping, well-used pussy in thick white rivulets. Her belly is softly rounded. Her clit is swollen and dark. Every few seconds her cunt still clenches, pushing out another slow ooze of seed.

You collapse beside her, the nine-by-six monster finally beginning its gradual retreat toward normal size. The Shared Heat continues to pulse with the aftershocks of her absolute satisfaction—the complete opposite of the contemptuous hunger she had carried earlier.

Mara turns her head, eyes heavy-lidded, a fucked-stupid smile on her face. One hand lazily reaches down to feel the mess between her legs, scooping up a thick strand of your cum and sucking it off her fingers.

“Next time,” she murmurs, voice completely raw, “we try a different color. But not yet. I want to stay full of this one a little longer.”

Mara’s body is still open, still dripping, still hungry for whatever comes next.