Panic might be appropriate, but since this is probably a bad trip, why not make the best of it?

James' breath came in shallow gasps. How? And why? And most importantly: What the hell? Did the pills...? Impossible. Pills didn't do that. That left one option: ****. James had never taken anything stronger than Adderall, so it was not like he was speaking from experience, but **** made you hallucinate, right? That was probably what this was. Calming down, he decided to take care of a few things first. Bad trip or not, he couldn't leave the kitchen in this state. After all, he had no idea how long he'd been out - or how long he'd been cumming, for that matter, as the intense climax had made him lose all sense of time. And he did not want his mother to find her prized Italian marble counters covered in spunk.

Pulling up his pants, he had to squish his enlarged dick back against his pussy. The feeling of his meat against his swollen, sensitive lower lips made him double over, a low moan emanating from deep within him. Gritting his teeth against the sensations, he managed to more or less properly put on his pants. The bad news was that this was only a temporary solution: Jeans and shirt were soiled by his cum. But at least now he didn't have to clean up the mess with his cock swinging around between his legs.

Moving to get a mop and bucket, James realized that this would likely have been preferable: With every step, his newly-grown pussy lips slid over his cock, a warm feeling slowly spreading through his lower body, the huge rod slowly hardening again. Trying his best to ignore it, he went to get cleaning supplies from the cupboard down the hall. His engorged cock pressed against his jeans, but its newfound girth prevented it from losing contact with James' pussy. Even worse, the throbbing heart-beat in the pulsing meat stimulated his labia deliciously. James got about halfway to his goal before the sensations proved too much and he doubled over, leaning on the wall to not collapse. His face was flush with arousal, ragged breaths rasping hotly out of his throat. This was too much! If this went on, he'd blow a load in his pants!

Trembling with lust, he pulled pulled down his pants and marveled at the way his prick swung free and slapped into his stomach, twitching with every beat of his heart. It took a lot of willpower to not beat off immediately, but his task was clear to him: He needed to get the kitchen clean. And if he needed to do it without pants and his throbbing boner out in the air, then so be it! Stepping out of his pants, dick bobbing around wildly, James continued on his way and fetched the mop he had been after. He still felt unbearably horny, the combined sources of pleasure in his crotch almost overloading his brain - once the kitchen was back in order, he'd jack off until his dick was sore!

Entering the kitchen with the cleaning supplies, James froze, not moving except for the excited twitching of his dick: He'd completely forgotten what day it was. It was Friday, and every Friday, their cleaning lady Micaela came to work her magic on the whole house. She was a smoking hot Mexican-American and James had beat off more than once to pictures of her ass he'd taken without her noticing. And what an ass it was: perky, tight, kept in shape by regular yoga classes and each cheek big enough to be cupped by both hands. Not that James had ever tried; but it was a good estimate, he figured.

Micaela stood at one of the counters, plump lips wrapped around two of her fingers with her eyes closed in bliss, and... The sight made James' prick lurch and bump into his stomach, smearing the cum-stained garment with pre. Judging by the tracks in the slimy jizz on the counter, Micaela had gathered up some of his cum and was now sucking it down! James' mouth fell open and his hands went slack, the cleaning implements clattering onto the floor. Micaela's eyes shot open and she popped her fingers out of her mouth with an audible slurp. Turning around towards James, her eyes were immediately drawn to his humongous dick.