⁅ Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! This story was commissioned by the wonderful pickleherring. He writes too, so give his stuff a look. (〃￣︶￣) ⁆
❰ Justine is fresh out of college and feeling listless about the future. Mom and her B.F.F. have a solution in mind.❱
﴾Content: 18+, age difference, anal sex, big ass, big breasts, big dick, boobjob/pazuri, creampie/cum in vagina, cum in ass, cum in mouth, excessive cum, futanari/intersex/girls with dicks, interracial, locker room, milf, multiple orgasms, older woman, oral sex [fellatio], shower sex, vaginal sex, virgin﴿
Part One
“Here we are!”
Justine awoke with a start at her mother’s announcement, half-lidded eyes rolling around to the blurry figure in the driver’s seat.
“Hwuh?” She mumbled, rubbing the imprint that the seat belt had left on her cheek as she slept against it.
“Here you go, sleeping cutie…” Her mom laughed, pulling Justine's glasses down from the sunglasses holder, "I took your glasses off when you fell asleep so they wouldn’t smush into your face."
She slipped them onto her half-conscious face. With a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, Justine’s mom hopped out of the car and began to rifle through the trunk. By the time Justine finally got out of the car, she had already closed it and approached her sleepy daughter with gym bags in either hand.
“Here’s yoouuuurs⁓♪” With a sing-song voice and a big smile, she put the bag in Justine's hands with characteristic insistence, “Now let’s get inside and get changed. We don’t want to be laaaaa-aaaaate⁓♪”
Justine yawned and reached down to scratch herself as her body walked behind her mother on auto-pilot. The slap of her flip-flops soon quieted as they transitioned from the sidewalk to the soft carpet. The cool whoosh of an air-conditioned room signaled their entrance, which beckoned Justine’s eyelids to open.
“Ahem.”
A rather insistent voice drew Justine’s attention to a rail-thin woman in her mid-50s. She looked down the end of her long nose, her pale and powdered cheeks stretching in an opaquely insincere smile.
“Oh… c-can I h—uh… I mean… what can I d—” Justine
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, ma’am,” the smiling woman interrupted.
“Wh—” Justine’s eyes shot open as she suddenly felt very awake. As she clutched her bag in front of her chest, the young woman glanced around the room. She found nothing but the stares of the many older patrons, their breakfast interrupted by the intrusion.
“I’m afraid that your… attire…” Her beady eyes rolled down her long nose and back, scanning Justine condescendingly, “…does not meet our dress code.”
Justine looked down over her bag in horror as she realized that she was still in her pajamas—and not cute ones either. No, she was wearing a T-shirt that was a couple of sizes too big, a pair of very loose boxer shorts, and flip-flops. The half-chub that remained of her morning wood made a rather obscene arch down one side towards her leg, millimeters from breaching containment.
Nervous sweat began to bead on her forehead as she realized how well-dressed the average person in this room was, as well as the stunningly expensive-looking décor that surrounded her. With a mouth that felt like it was stuffed with peanut butter, she struggled to explain herself. Nervousness progressed into full-on panic as she realized that she had no idea what she was doing here—or even where ‘here’ was.
“Excuse me, is something the matter?”
Noticing that Justine had been stopped, her mother turned back with a sense of urgency that made her curls bounce as she approached. She stood beside her daughter, a bag over one arm and two brand-new tennis rackets tucked under the other.
“Oh, this young lady wandered in, and I was—”
“Wandered in? Good god, some things never change.”
“Is there a problem here?” A suited man entered the conversation from behind them, and he positioned himself alongside the doorwoman.
“Indeed there is. This woman has been very rude to my daughter—”
“This club is for members only, ma’am.”
With that, her mother’s expression darkened to the new man as it had with the long-nosed woman.
“Mom… People are staring…” Justine whispered, shrinking with embarrassment.
“You should be used to it, dear. Eyes tend to follow the glow,” Minerva pulled out her phone, angrily tapped the screen a few times—taking care to turn up her fingernails to avoid the screen—and put it to her ear. She glanced at either of the two employees in turn, “That’ll be all from the both of you, thanks.”
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to lea—”
“Annie? It's Minnie. Hi, I’m sorry to call you like this, but it seems we’ve arrived a little early, and—… Yes. Exactly. This under-stuffed screech owl and her frat boy fling are being very rude to me and Justine—… Thank you, honey. Hugs and kisses. See you in a few.”
Minerva tapped the end call button with a bit of flourish to her motion, spreading her fingers out to show off her immaculately-styled nails again. She turned from the two as if they had vanished from her sight and proceeded inside, grabbing Justine's arm to pull her along. They started to pursue in protest, but both of them ground to a halt as their pockets started vibrating.
“Mom… I could’ve just gotten changed in the car if you’d—”
“They have a changing room for a reason, dear. So we’ll change there.”
“But the dress code—” Justine began to protest.
“Trust me, dear—if you were a white girl with straight hair, they wouldn’t have given a shit about their dress code.”
"But I'm barely dres—"
"Then they should be grateful they don't have to pay for the privilege. Ah! Here we are!"
Minerva led Justine through the entryway, the fancy dining room, the bar area, and the locker rooms before they finally arrived at a private changing room with a small reserved sign on it.
“Mom… we were going to go get the rest of my stuff. From the dorm…?” Justine grumbled—shaken, but now thoroughly awake.
“Oh of course we are, College Queen! Annie called while you were sleeping—she's my girl from way back in my college days—and she invited us to play a game or two with her and her daughter Elaine. I haven't seen Annie in so long, so I just couldn't refuse!" She held her phone up next to the knob, causing the red LED above it to turn green.
"Mom, I didn't pack any clothes to play tennis. I don't have anything but flip-flops and hiking boots."
"Oh, I know dear. That's why I stopped off and bought us some equipment for the occasion! What did you think was in that bag you're carrying? Silly…"
“Great…” Justine mumbled, her mood still thoroughly soured from the rude awakening at the entryway.
“What was that, honey?”
“Oh… it was nothing. Sorry. I’m just really tired, is all…”
“I’ll grab you a coffee while you’re getting changed, then,” Minerva held the door open and waved her daughter inside.
Justine hesitated for a moment but proceeded inside regardless. She didn't want anything to do with this, but given all the equipment her mother had bought, she would feel pretty bad turning her down. Then again, knowing her mother, there was a pretty good chance that was part of the plan.
"Mom… I don't really want to play…" Justine rubbed the back of her neck in the uncomfortable silence, "I mean, I haven't practiced in a long time. So I bet I'm gonna be super rusty. I don't want to drag you down."
"Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sweetie; this is just for fun! Just a friendly game between old friends and their beautiful, talented daughters," She patted Justine on the shoulder with a broad smile, "The stakes couldn't be lower, dear!"
Somehow Justine still had doubts. Her mother was the woman that shame forgot. Her face was never without a veneer of infectious confidence. She was a star athlete, a part-time model, one of the most accomplished trial attorneys on the east coast, and an incredibly shrewd investor besides.
Justine, on the other hand? She often joked that she must’ve been adopted. She inherited none of her mother’s natural charisma or confidence, and certainly none of her outgoing personality. Justine was a bookish, awkward, kissless virgin at the age of 22.
That’s not to say she lacked friends—she had plenty of those that she cared for very deeply. But the moment of complete exposure and vulnerability that came with expressing romantic or sexual feelings towards another person seemed like an insurmountable anxiety.
One thing she did inherit from her mother was her natural talent on the tennis court. However, love of the sport was not something they shared—much to her mother's chagrin, Minerva had been trying to convince her daughter to pick up the racket again ever since she left for college to no avail.
Then again, Minerva had done her more favors than she could count during her college years. As she had a few minutes prior, Justine’s mother always had her daughter’s back, and Justine doubted that she’d ever have made it through the roughest parts of exam season without her. So she tried not to make too big of a stink about the mild subterfuge used to get her here. Just a couple of games? She could do that. Besides, there was no arguing with her mother anyway, as many an unprepared prosecutor had figured out the hard way.
Minerva closed the door behind them as Justine sat the bag on the bench facing a row of lockers and started to undress.
“Oh, that reminds me—when was the last time you masturbated, dear?”
Justine was caught so off guard by the question that she nearly fell over while stepping out of her shorts.
"Mom!" Justine hissed, instinctively looking around the empty room to make sure no one heard.
“You have a condition, sweetie," Minerva explained with a patience seen only by her daughter, "Asakura Syndrome isn’t a joke, and I know we’ve been stuck in the car for the past couple of days. Maybe you should consider… loosening your strings… before we hit the court?”
Asakura Syndrome, for the unaware, is a genetic disorder that affects girls with dicks. In short, the condition is caused by a chronic hormonal imbalance, which can itself have a wide range of potential causes. Common symptoms include hyperspermia, hypergonadism, and aggressive sexual urges—each of which will steadily increase in severity without treatment. In extreme cases, this can result in a compulsive pursuit of sexual release. Thankfully, patients with this condition usually respond well to simple medication and manual stimulation therapy, so such cases are extremely rare.
“I’ll be fine,” Justine assured her, “I can handle it.”
“I know you can, Justine. You can do anything. Whether or not you will is more my concern,” Minerva crossed her arms, eyebrow raised.
"My new meds keep it under control, Mom. So just let me do my own thing, please?” Justine scoffed.
"You do your own thing ten to fifteen times a day, Justine. I'm just asking you to do it once before we head out to the court. You know you embarrass easily, so…"
“Mom, I’m not jacking off in a country club locker room. E—… end of discussion!” Justine’s voice got a little shaky at the end, but she stuck to it nonetheless.
“Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with having a strong sex drive—especially for someone with your condition,” Minerva glanced down only briefly, and Justine’s gaze followed hers.
Justine’s face turned pink as she discovered the very visible tent in her pajama pants. She averted her eyes with an indignant scoff—intent on further protest but found her tongue frozen with embarrassment. Closing her legs a little tighter, she pulled the bag onto her lap to hide it from view.
“Now I’m going to go get us some coffee,” Minerva announced, walking toward the door, “I’ll be gone for twenty minutes.”
Minerva stressed the last couple of words, giving her daughter a pointed stare. The implication was clear.
“Okay…” Justine grumbled.
“I’ll knock when I come back, okay?” Minerva told her, already halfway out the door.
“Fine.”
“Okay!” Her mother smiled and closed the door behind her.
Justine rolled her eyes with a sigh as she turned the shower on and began to disrobe, neatly folding her PJs into a pile next to the bag. She briefly considered taking her mother’s advice. On any other day, she probably would have. But the incident at the door along with her mother’s embarrassing (though not necessarily untrue) remarks had left her feeling somewhat obstinate.
She huffed with the kind of frustration that comes with being told what you don’t want to hear. Still stewing, she ransacked her bag for her pills and bitterly struggled with the cap. After a few frustrated grunts, both the cap and the bottle popped free of her grasp. Justine could do naught but watch in horror as a half-dozen pills shot across the room and began to dissolve on the damp shower floor.
“Fuck!” Justine cursed in a scramble to pick up at least one, but they had all been reduced to foamy splotches on the tile before she could reach them.
Hesitantly, she looked into the bottle to confirm what she already knew. She cursed again, finding it empty. Taking a deep breath, Justine tried to stay positive. The next week wouldn’t be pleasant, but she would survive. She just had to get through today. With a sigh, she stepped into the falling water and turned the knob until the water began to run out cold.
Part Two
“Mom… are you sure about this outfit?”
Justine glanced down at herself, feeling a little self-conscious. The shorts that Minerva had bought barely reached her thighs, and it had left her feeling more than a little exposed. Stuffing her ample endowment into them was quite the task, and she found herself repeatedly checking to make sure nothing had slipped. If she managed to keep it soft, she was sure she would be fine…but that was a very big if.
“You promised not to be a stick in the mud…” Minerva whispered, well out of earshot of the approaching duo. Giving her daughter no time to respond, she waved her old friend over excitedly, “Annie! Over here!”
Justine waved nervously, trying to stifle her embarrassment as her mother hopped up and down like a child in the middle of the court. Her friend for her part waved warmly. Unable to contain her excitement, Minerva ran to meet them halfway, nearly tackling them to the ground.
“Oh hello, Minnie!” Anabel gasped, warmly returning the embrace as soon as she had regained her footing, “It’s been far too long, dear.”
“Couldn’t agree more, girl… couldn’t agree more,” Minerva laughed.
After a short exchange outside Justine’s range of hearing, she threw an arm around each of their shoulders and walked them back toward the court.
“Justine, this is my best friend from college: Anabel Descoteaux…”
Anabel wasn’t entirely a stranger; She was a constant presence in Minerva’s stories and photo albums, and they maintained almost daily contact via Facebook and text messages. This was the first time that Justine had met her in person, however. She was an active woman in her mid-40s, much like Minerva. However, where Justine’s mother was energetic and approachable, Anabel had the presence of royalty. Justine found herself feeling very small and under-dressed in her presence.
Justine extended her hand, only to be pulled into a tight hug instead. The girl’s mind briefly left her body as a multitude of sensations hit at once: the softness of her skin, the warmth of her embrace, the sweet smell of her perfume, and the caress of her womanly curves. Justine absentmindedly wrapped her arms around Ms. Descoteaux’s back as Anne nuzzled her cheek into her shoulder.
“Sorry, dear,” Anabel chuckled as they parted, “I hope your mother warned you. I’m very much a hugger.”
Her eyes darted downward for just a split second, and then rose back to meet Justine’s. Her expression was unchanged, but Justine instinctively checked herself to make sure that she hadn’t fallen out of her shorts. Thankfully, all was well.
“Nah… no worries! I uh… I like hugs!” Justine laughed nervously.
“…And this is her daughter, Elaine!” Minerva concluded, gesturing to the hooded girl with her nose buried in her phone.
As if unsettled by the sound of her name, Elaine raised her head with a start, nearly dropping her phone in the process. She looked from Minerva to Anabel, and finally to Justine. They exchanged an awkward glance. Elaine went for a handshake. Justine went for a hug. Both laughed nervously and stalled, feeling foolish as they tried to correct their incompatible greetings. Justine went for a handshake. Elaine went for a hug.
They silently agreed to cut their losses and settled on an awkward wave in lieu of embarrassing themselves further.
“Nice to meet you,” Justine smiled as genuinely as she could manage.
“Y—yes!” Elaine nodded, before adding, “Me uh… me too…”
Justine turned and took her place down the court. She took a few practice swings in hopes that her body would remember the proper motions. Anabel bounced the ball a few times as she prepared to serve from the opposite side of the net.
“Best of three, dear?” Anabel called across the court to Minerva.
“Sounds good!” She responded with a sweet smile, “You just pick how many games you want to lose, Annie!”
The pleasantries quickly faded as Anabel readied up her serve. She cast a final, confident glance at Justine and tossed the ball skyward.
“Haaaaa—UNGH!” With an unrestrained grunt of exertion, she fired the serve from her racket, clearing the net with practiced form. A smile crossed her lips…
The return was a sharp contrast. Justine hit the ball back with a criminally precise slice, giving the ball barely any bounce as it unceremoniously rapped twice against the clay court before Anabel could even begin to approach it. Wide-eyed, her gaze darted to Justine, then to Minerva, and then back.
Minerva burst into laughter.
“I guess it’s our serve now—right, Annie?” She yelled to her dumbfounded friend.
Anabel grumbled, retrieved the ball that now rolled lazily across the court, and tossed it back to Justine with a scalding glare. Justine laughed nervously under her breath and attempted to avoid eye contact with her gloating mother.
“The stakes couldn’t be lower,” she said.
“Just for fun,” she said.
Justine did not want any part of her mother’s ravenous competitive appetite, but she knew that if she intentionally threw the game, the ride home would be torturous. And Minerva would know—she always knew. Justine took a deep breath and tossed the ball up to serve.
Anabel tensed as Justine’s backswing reached its full extension, and she darted forward as soon as the lanky girl’s racket made contact, intending to intercept the low bounce as she had failed to do seconds earlier.
Justine tilted her racket at the last second, sending a moonball bouncing fast and high over Anabel’s head—far beyond her reach.
The older woman jumped with a growl of equal parts exertion and frustration. She swung her racket high overhead, hitting naught but air as the ball sailed past and lodged itself in the chain link fence. Clearly rattled but unbroken, Anabel straightened her visor and took her place back on the court; a determined look fixed on her face.
“Love-15!” Minerva cackled.
“M—Mom?” Elaine piped up, finally getting her mother’s attention.
“What is it, Elaine?” Anabel responded, trying her best to hide her embarrassment.
“W—…would you like me… to um—… Should I return the serve?” Elaine asked somewhat apprehensively—clearly concerned about further bruising her mother’s ego, “She’s… pretty good…”
“Thank you, dear, but no,” Anabel flashed Elaine a smile, “I simply underestimated little Justine, that’s all. My mistake. Knowing her mother, I should’ve been more prepared…”
“You’re doing great, sweetie!” Minerva waved to her daughter from across their side of the court, “She’s got them old lady reactions though, so don’t go too hard on her!”
“D—don’t be like that, Mom…” Justine smiled nervously, refusing to make eye contact with Minerva, “It’s just like… a parlor trick. Everyone falls for it once…”
Elaine’s expression mirrored Justine’s. Though Anabel wore a warm smile, the look in her eyes was downright wrathful, and that made both daughters very nervous. Their mothers were clearly taking this far more seriously than they were. What’s more, Minerva’s antagonizing remarks were clearly finding purchase, adding extra powder to this already overfilled keg.
“Justine, dear?” Anabel called across the court.
“Y-Yes, Ms. Descoteaux?” Justine called back.
“Doctor,” Anabel corrected.
“D-Doctor Descoteaux, my bad…” Justine apologized, “Wh—… I mean… what did you—”
“I have a suspicion, dear. That you’re planning to ‘accidentally’ give me a sub-par serve. To take it easy on me, as it were…” Anabel loosened her white-knuckled grip on her racket, exhaling softly to re-center herself. The look on her face hadn’t lost an ounce of its original intensity, however, “That would frustrate me. Quite a bit. You understand, dear?”
Justine swallowed hard and nodded. They used different words, and their outward personalities couldn’t be further from each other… but suddenly Justine completely understood why Anabel and her mother had been so close for so long. Because the look on Anabel’s face was very familiar. It told Justine that she would accept no handicap.
“You heard her! She asked for it, J!” Minerva cheered, “Serve this old bat up a few more aces. The sooner we’re done using her tennis balls, the sooner she can put them on her walker where they belong.”
“Still ever the joker, Minnie…” Anabel laughed with a shake of her head and looked to Justine, “Come now, girl. We haven’t all day.”
• • •
Anabel dived for the return, merely grazing the ball with her racket. The fuzzy little ball flew up and bounced off of the empty umpire’s chair, landing squarely back in their court. Set point—McVie.
After she failed to return Justine’s initial serves, the set had more or less devolved into an awkwardly paced singles match. Anabel wished to prove that she could consistently return Justine’s surgically precise serves, and as such had given Elaine a rather wilting look every time she had tried to assist.
To her credit, Anabel had managed to return a fair few… but she simply didn’t have the speed to both react and put herself in a position to return much of the time. The individual games were never blowouts, but before long, the McVies had captured set point before the Descoteauxs had managed to capture even a single game.
Justine wanted to be swallowed up by the Earth. The tension on the court could’ve been cut with a knife. That probably had something to do with the fact that her mother hadn’t stopped her snide jabs for even a second, and continued cackling at her exhausted rival’s unsuccessful effort.
Anabel picked herself up off of the court. She rolled over onto her backside and leaned back on her arms, gazing up at the clouds while she tried to catch her breath. Sweat poured down her neck and ample chest as it rose and fell, her white tank top already soaked and sticking to her body. She pulled off her visor and fanned herself with it in an attempt to cool down.
Justine could feel it happening. The crackling tingle in her tummy happily sizzled like a lit fuse as it slowly traveled south, making its way to her chemically-restrained testes. Her medicine was wearing off… and now she had second thoughts regarding what she’d like to be swallowed up by.
“It’s my turn to serve now, isn’t it?”
Elaine called across the net for the first time, which took everyone by surprise. Her mother nodded from the ground. Elaine held her hand out for a ball—jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed.
Justine jumped a little as Elaine’s icy stare turned to her, as she scrambled to fish a fresh tennis ball out of the canister. After she dropped it a few times, further embarrassing herself, Justine finally managed to pass it across the net.
“Thank you,” Elaine responded with a robotic, warmth-less pleasantry.
Justine’s shoulders fell. This was the reason she didn’t play anymore. She didn’t care if she won or lost. It was a game to her. It always had been. She didn’t even practice beyond the amount that she was forced to tolerate for her mother’s sake.
And that was fine… until she played against someone who it wasn’t just a game for. Someone who practiced constantly and put their heart and soul into it. For someone like that, losing to her was just a never-ending cycle of confusion and frustration… and Justine couldn’t help but acknowledge that it felt more than a little unfair, in a cosmic sense.
In short, playing didn’t make Justine happy… and it made a lot of others very unhappy. So she quit.
Elaine set her racket and the new ball down on the ground and grabbed the hem of her baggy shirt with both hands. Justine’s eyes were sucked to her midsection like a magnet as each tiny motion of her body made her abdominals ripple through her sun-tanned skin. Her lower body pulled a similar trick as she bent over to kick off her shorts, leaving her only in her leggings and a bright-orange sports bra.
The tingling had turned into a rumble, and Justine pinched her legs together in anticipation of the imminent failure of her tuck work. She could feel her heart beating faster by the second. Her medicine was fighting a losing battle. She could already feel her panties stretching uncomfortably.
Elaine picked up her equipment and shook her hair out of her face, sending a pleasant shiver down Justine’s spine. Though she’d never been particularly religious, she found herself praying that Elaine wouldn’t flash her that cold stare again. Her libido was rapidly becoming more and more of a problem by the second, and there was a non-zero chance that she might cream her shorts if Elaine stared her down again.
As Elaine tossed the ball skyward to serve, Justine was snapped from her daydream by the horrible realization that she couldn’t move—not without flashing her leaky half-chub to a dozen sentient polo shirts, anyway. She tried to get her mother’s attention, but Minerva was already poised to react and return.
“NnnYAAAAAAHHrr!”
Elaine’s serve sounded like a gunshot, and the ball fired off her racket with comparable speed. Minerva moved just a little too late, and the serve bounced at the edge of her box and into the fence.
Minerva did a bit of a double take between young Elaine and the ball, eyes widened, equal parts surprised and impressed. Elaine flashed her a toothy grin, her braces shining in the bright sun.
• • •
With Anabel still catching her breath and Justine desperately fending off her libido, the match once again devolved into a mostly one-on-one affair. However, Minerva and Elaine played a much more athletic contest than their inverse pair had. While there were few aces to be found, Elaine dashed and leaped around the court with the speed of a pronghorn, and had the endurance to match.
Minerva’s rally was powerful and precise, but she, unfortunately, possessed the mortal weakness of finite stamina. Elaine seemed to share no such weakness. She was a brace-faced terminator—utterly relentless. Minerva may as well have been playing against a brick wall for all the hope she had of getting the ball past her.
The second set ended in much the same way as the first—one player exhausted, another barely breaking a sweat, and their respective doubles partners standing around awkwardly like racket-wielding trees had sprung up from the court. Set Point—Descoteaux.
Minerva paced around her box, malding at the rather decisive loss she had just suffered. Justine finally managed to catch her eye and shot her mother a pleading look.
Part Three
“Time out, Annie!”
“Hm? Don’t you even consider ending this on a tie, Minnie,” Anabel yelled, “I know where you live!”
Though Minerva couldn’t resist flashing a momentary “I told you so” smile in her daughter’s direction, she didn’t labor the point otherwise. She marched over to Justine and snatched her racket from her hand. After a brief inspection, she shook her head.
“I told you to loosen your strings for this court, Justine,” Minerva performatively scolded.
“What? No, you di—” Justine suddenly realized her meaning as she desperately kept her legs pinned together, “Oh, right! I—… I forgot…”
“Well, hurry up!” Minerva shooed her daughter away from the court, “You remember how to do it, right?”
“Yes!” Justine blurted out, already making a beeline back to the locker room, “I’ll be right back!”
…
“Fuck…” Justine cursed through her teeth, a condom wrapper held between them as she worked at freeing her cock from the uncomfortable-bordering-on-painful confines of her shorts. They didn’t even make it to the ground before her hand gripped the base of her cock and rolled the rubber over.
Justine began to stroke furiously. For a few seconds, she didn’t even open her eyes. Familiar fantasies and favorite porn scenes flashed through her mind, the salacious sights and sensations spurring her on. That’s when she felt it. A surge traveled through her body like she had put a finger in a light socket—down her chest, through her tummy, and finally came to rest in her aching balls.
Her medicine had worn off completely… and the feeling of pop rocks crackling inside her testes told her that her problem was about to get a lot bigger.
Her conscious restraint began to fade as she started to massage her lightly swelling nuts in time with her strokes, slowly making her way onto her back as she kicked off her shorts. As the warm water from the shower flowed over her, the true culprits of this overflow of lust began to invade her usual mental movies.
“You didn’t take your medicine!? Oh, god… that looks painful!” Elaine gasped in her head and revealed a duet of hypnotic handfuls from the concealment of her top, “Will this help? I mean… if you like looking…”
Another tingly explosion inside her nuts made her hips buck as the milky skin of Elaine’s untanned pussy flashed into her mind.
“H—how about this? You… do like girls, right?” The fantasy Elaine blushed, spreading her pussy as she leaned back against the wall for balance, “I spend a lot of time practicing… outdoors you know… so I’ve got some tan lines. Please don’t laugh, okay?”
Justine’s tongue fell out of her head as she nodded, enticing this fantasy Elaine to continue.
“M—maybe… I don’t know if it’ll fit, but… you can try to put it in—Ohhh gooddd~”
Justine slammed her hips up into her grip as she fantasized about slamming balls deep into Elaine’s tight hole. Elaine arched her back as she moaned, accentuating the tiny bump just below her belly button. Another surge of lust came at the sight of her cock poking a bump into Elaine’s perfectly toned stomach. She thrust into her hands, stroking like mad as her fantasy cock fucked the shy athlete in every way she could imagine—and Justine grew very creative at times such as these.
Her nuts churned a final time and began to ascend.
“I—…it’s probably safe, so—”
Even in Justine’s lascivious fantasy, Elaine didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence. Justine pushed her cock all the way in and shot it full.
Her release bloated the rubber like a latex balloon with thick, distending spurts as Justine smashed her pelvis against her fist. Only her shoulders and the tips of her toes touched the ground, her back arched in a rapturous, spasming climax. Moans echoed through the empty locker room—her restraint and shame eroded to the point of nonresistance by surging, overwhelming lust.
Justine covered her face with her off-hand, sighing heavily as she milked the last bit of runoff from her under-vein and into the dangerously bloated condom. She shook her head with an embarrassed squint in her eyes as her post-nut clarity turned her fantasy from a sizzling hot daydream into an embarrassingly indulgent bit of sleaze.
She couldn’t even get through a single set without eye-fucking her opponent until she literally couldn’t control herself. Justine covered her face with her other hand, fuming. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t a big deal; it wasn’t like she had hurt anyone.
Even still, her condition made her feel like such a sex pest. It was why she had been such a shut-in for most of her teenage and young adult life. No matter how careful she was, it would always break through. Whether she forgot a dose, or just had an unexpectedly intense flare-up, she would always find herself trapped in a conversation with someone that she could not stop undressing in her mind—no matter how hard she tried.
Truthfully, she usually handled these situations rather well, all things considered, but her anxiety wouldn’t allow her to see it that way. No, in her mind, they could see it. In her eyes. In her body language. In her suspiciously clenched thighs. Her utterly concupiscent mental pictures may as well have been projected onto her rapidly perspiring face. They could see Justine turning them into obscene caricatures of themselves to properly suit whatever fetish suited her ravenous libido’s desires.
Then she would make up an excuse to leave. When they would call or text her, she would be too mortified to answer. Eventually, they would stop calling.
Trying to recover from her spiral, Justine posed to herself that it could’ve been worse. After all, Elaine was the type of girl that could drive most woman-loving libidos insane. She wasn’t being weird about it or anything. They were the same age, Elaine was exactly her type, and they had gotten along…relatively well in their short interaction. Add in her condition, and it sort of made sense.
And it wasn’t surprising, looking at Elaine’s mother. She had to be in her mid-forties at least, but Anabel was like royalty in every sense of the word. The shift in her figure past motherhood put the extra weight in all the right places. Her breasts were comfortably the size of small melons, and she no doubt had a very expensive sports bra to keep them compressed and supported enough to play.
Justine’s eyes shot open as she felt another ticklish crackle bubbling down in the dregs of her stewing cum tanks. Desperately, she tried to think of something—anything to take her mind away… but to no avail.
“Oh? What size are they?” Anabel put a finger to the cute dimple on her cheek, grinning sweetly as she looked to the sky to consider, “Hmm… how about you guess, dear?”
Anabel’s eyes lidded as she bit her perfect, crimson lip and rolled her sticky, sweaty t-shirt up to her chest. Stopping only for a moment to hook her perfectly manicured nails under the elastic of her bra, she lifted… and lifted… and lifted…
Justine pinched the base of her cock as she felt it surge to life, desperately trying to banish the sporty MILFs glistening, voluminous underboob from her mind’s eye. She curled her toes and sat up, resisting climax with every muscle in her body as her nuts churned and boiled with a freshly-cooked load that threatened to burst forth at any second.
The elastic had finally stretched too thin to contain the tsunami of sun-kissed, milk-swollen, pillow-soft breasts that spilled through. The tumultuous flesh rippled lewdly as Anabel’s oh-so-suckable nipples and sweet pink areolas flowed from containment and took their rightful place at the lead of her gargantuan milkers.
Justine’s nuts rapidly grew another centimeter in diameter just before her scrotum clenched them so tight against her body as to cause a jolt of pain. Her grip loosened for only an instant, but that was all it took. Justine screamed, at first in shock and discomfort. The rolled band shot up her shaft as a veritable deluge of thick, viscous spooge distended the rest of the overwhelmed latex barrier, the relentless jet of her release creating a swirling, sloshing current within. Justine briefly panicked, but it was too late. A hole became a tear, one tear became many, and the poor little condom was shortly obliterated by the twisting whirlpool of opaque white jism. The fat gob it had formerly contained splashed down onto the shower floor, coating Justine’s legs and tummy. She covered her mouth to stifle herself, inadvertently slathering her face with her own cum.
Justine’s eyes rolled back as the salty, slimy facial crawled around on her tastebuds, the heavy scent overwhelming her nostrils, provoking her mind to remix the lewd fantasy.
“Look at this mess! Young lady, you clean this up right now!” Anabel scolded, Justine’s sizable cock barely peeking out from between the MILF’s titanic breasts. Rope after rope of salty milk shot into Justine’s face from her throbbing cock as Anabel directed the business end of it toward her. Anabel had held her head in place until it was clear that Justine wouldn’t dare disobey, dutifully accepting the self-facial with an open mouth and eager tongue.
Another explosion ripped forth as Justine’s eyelids began to fall, a thick rope of cum striping the shower wall just before she fell onto her back—deep, satiated breaths reaching her ears in the darkness behind her closed eyelids…
Part Four
After Justine’s shameful return to the court, the match resumed. Unsurprisingly, when the two teams played in proper form, the match suddenly grew quite competitive. Justine’s ability to control the ball with microscopic precision proved quite a unique challenge for the much more athletic Elaine, as Elaine’s relentless, untiring playstyle had provided a similar challenge for Justine. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was actually having fun.
Elaine bounced the ball in her off-hand, and looked toward Justine. Their eyes met one another, as they had many times in this game alone. But then… she smiled. Her braces flashed a little in the bright sun as she stifled a giggle, and Justine nervously waved in response.
Elaine took a breath and put her game face back on. Her sweat-glistened skin shined in the sun as she leaned back for the serve. The perfect, fluid motion in her follow-through highlighted every working muscle in the athletic machine that was her body. Even her grunt seemed to have Justine enraptured.
tok!
Justine was shaken from her daze by the sound of the ball hitting the court. She had been watching Elaine instead of the ball. By the time she began to consciously look for it…
SHPOP!
The ball slammed into Justine’s orbital bone before she could even flinch, which sent her stumbling backward for a few steps before she lost her balance.
“Oh my god!” Elaine gasped as Justine’s back hit the court. With equal parts guilt and concern, Elaine rushed over to check on her.
“Eye on the ball, dear!” Anabel cackled as she turned to Minerva, “She’s a real chip off the old block, ain’t she, Minnie?”
Justine’s face started to burn with embarrassment as she looked up at the clear blue sky, and her eye had already begun to puff up. When Elaine’s face suddenly appeared, looking down at her with concern, it became even warmer.
“Are you okay? I’m s—so sorry! I—I guess I g—got a little too into it…”
“I—I’m fine. I just—” Justine’s cheeks were on fire, “—got a little distracted… sorry.”
“I—it’s okay!” Elaine smiled warmly and offered her a hand, “It—uh… it happens to the best of us.”
Justine averted her eyes from Elaine as she caught herself staring, unaware of how long she had been doing so. She took Elaine’s hand and pulled herself up.
“You’ve got quite a serve…” Justine laughed, attempting to break the ice.
“Oh… thanks,” Elaine responded, awkwardly shuffling her feet, “I was surprised that you kept pace. I didn’t know that you played.”
“In high school, but that was mostly because of my mom.”
“You should play more! I’d be happy to help you uh… y’know… shake the rust off,” Elaine bounced with excitement.
There was an awkward silence and mutual nervous laughter as the two of them walked toward the locker rooms. Their mothers stopped their trash talk to exchange a knowing glance.
“I uh… might have to take you up on that,” Justine responded, “Maybe we could get some dinner afterward?”
“There are some great restaurants around here,” Elaine blurted out, “I could show you…”
“Oh… I have to clear out my dorm room by 7 o’clock…” Justine blushed a little at Elaine’s obvious disappointment.
“I’ve got like… sponsor meetings all this week… b—but I’m free on the weekend, maybe…” Elaine smiled as they reached their lockers—coincidentally located right next to each other.
Justine disrobed as slowly as she could manage, trying to conceal her hidden glances up and down Elaine’s increasingly exposed body.
Much like what had happened on the court, Elaine’s body seemed to go into autopilot as she stripped down without a trace of her usual hesitation and awkwardness. Justine reasoned that she must have done this countless times, so it shouldn’t have surprised her. Yet even still, Elaine’s confident disrobing had Justine somewhat fascinated. As did what lay beneath…
Elaine’s form-fitting tennis gear hadn’t left too many surprises regarding her figure, but the few that remained were more than worth the wait. Her breasts practically tumbled out of their restraints as Elaine rolled her sports bra across her moist and glistening skin. Her panties fought a similar battle, the sweaty cloth clinging to her damp body. After a bit of awkward wiggling which made her bounce in all the right places, she finally stepped out of them.
As she turned to toss her dirty clothes into her bag, though, Elaine’s eye caught Justine’s and froze.
Justine only then realized that she had been so captivated by the other girl’s body that she had been staring slack-jawed for at least the last minute or so. Her shirt and shorts lay in a heap on the floor, one shoulder slipped from her bra strap. Her face heated up even more as she realized that her weighty cock was close to half-mast, and nigh inconcealable from such close proximity.
“O—…” Justine began, with the mortifying realization of how creepy Elaine must find this.
“N—…” Elaine began, cutting Justine off with the last thing she expected to hear, “Nice…”
Before Justine could even process what happened, Elaine flashed her a smile and hurried off to the showers, leaving the confused girl with several questions and very mixed feelings.
Part Five
After stowing her clothes and grabbing her shower bag and towel, Justine proceeded to the showers. She was somewhat disappointed to find that the showers were separated into individual stalls, complete with sliding glass privacy doors. She had hoped to explain herself a little bit before the awkward moment got too far away, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
Briefly, she considered knocking on the foggy glass and asking Elaine’s permission to join her… but her stomach tied itself in knots at the mere thought. With a sigh of defeat, Justine proceeded past the first stall that Elaine currently occupied and into the next shower, closing the door behind her.
Anxiety and hope played a rather frustrating tug of war within as Justine lazily stuffed her braids beneath a shower cap, adorned with pink bubbles and bunnies. She allowed her mind to drift as the warm water washed over her body. The white noise of the falling liquid and rising steam gradually coaxed her eyes closed. A hum came from her lips as she finally started to relax.
The schoof of the sliding door and a rush of cool air on her wet skin made Justine’s eyes open with a start. Her shock became twofold upon seeing Dr. Descoteaux stepping into the spacious shower and shutting the door behind her.
“D—! Doct—!?”
“Hello, Justine. Your mother wished me to examine your eye,” Dr. Descoteaux interrupted with a firm, clinical tone, seemingly paying little mind to their mutual state of undress.
The white noise of the falling water became deafening in the silence that followed. Justine—caught so completely off guard—simply froze. Thighs pinched together to restrain her rapidly swelling femme-ber, back pressed firmly against the cold tile, and desperately trying to keep her eyes above the doctor’s neckline.
“May I see it?” She asked, though her tone was far more of an imperative than a question.
“Oh,” Justine responded, utterly devoid of the understanding that such a response usually implies, “When?”
There was a pause while the doctor’s eyes shifted slightly, the tilt of her head implying that she was giving Justine the chance to realize her rather dim-witted question and answer properly. She did not, so the doctor proceeded.
“Now, dear,” Anabel clarified, clearly unsure if Justine was simply shy or an utter moron.
“S—… uh… c—could it wait, Mrs—er… Dr. Descoteaux?” Justine babbled, still frozen in a knock-kneed stance—one hand over her crotch, and the other arm across her breasts, shielding her intimate areas from view.
“No,” Anabel responded flatly, refusing to offer further comment in the awkward pause that followed.
"C—could you hand me a towel? I’ll just dry off and cover up—”
“Justine, really! I am a medical professional with over two decades of experience. What part of your body do you believe is so unique that I haven’t seen its kind before?” Anabel huffed, putting a hand on one of her wide, child-bearing hips.
Justine found herself without an answer for the insistent doctor’s question—or at least not one that didn’t make her feel like a stubborn child. Reluctantly, she nodded.
“Good.”
Anabel produced a penlight from her bag, stowed the bag on one of the hooks on the back of the door, and hurried over to Justine. She began her examination—poking, prodding, and shining a light into the injured pupil.
“Hrm…”
“Is it okay?” Justine finally asked, “I mean, it’s only a tennis ball, right?”
“Well, unfortunately for you, Elaine is a professional. Her average serving speed is around 120 miles per hour, and the serve that hit you was markedly above that. Had it struck you near the net, a hit like this could’ve caused a detached retina or even permanent loss of vision. As it stands, you only have some mild corneal irritation and the beginnings of a deep bruise around your eye socket. You’ll have a nasty-looking black eye in a day or so, but you’ll most likely survive…”
“Most likely???” Justine exclaimed.
“It’s a joke, dear. You’ll be completely fine, I assure you,” Anabel chuckled.
Justine sighed in relief.
“Thank you, doctor. I didn’t know it could’ve been so serious…” Justine sighed in relief, “I’m sorry about being so fussy. You were just trying to help…”
“It’s quite alright, dear,” the doctor reassured her as she stowed her penlight in the hanging bag.
Justine looked at the floor, her anxiety not yet appeased by her apology.
“Is there… um… any way I could make it up to you?” Justine offered, “It’s just that you’re my mom’s best friend. And I don’t want to make a bad first impression.”
“Really, dear,” Dr. Descoteaux laughed, “It’s alright. I am a mother too, after all. I’ve dealt with my share of ‘fussy’ patients.”
“Oh, okay…” Justine looked down again.
“But if you insist…”
Justine looked back up at the doctor.
“Yes? Yes. I do insist, Doctor,” Justine beseeched with an almost comically dramatic tone.
The older woman started to laugh but quickly realized that Justine’s plea wasn’t at all in jest. She stifled her laugh, not wanting to hurt the poor girl’s feelings.
“Well, I have something of a phobia; showering alone—outside my own home, of course—leaves me quite anxious. Furthermore, I have forgotten my toiletries. Would it bother you immensely if I showered here?”
“Not at all, Mrs—I mean… Dr. Descoteaux,” Justine corrected, “There’s plenty of room… and I have soap and shampoo if you need it.”
As the doctor smiled gratefully, Justine seemed to forget her anxiety, seemingly distracted by her relief that she hadn’t offended. The doctor approached and Justine fumbled through her bag. Finally locating the shampoo, she squirted some onto her hands and passed the bottle to Anabel—probably a little faster than she needed to.
“S—sorry…” Justine shrugged, “I guess I’m just on edge today…”
“There’s no need to be so nervous, dear,” Anabel chucked as she lathered up her hair, “I don’t bite.”
“Oh,” Justine laughed, “Of course not.”
But, obviously… it wasn’t a bite she feared. Justine kicked herself once again for forgetting her pills. Every glance at Anabel’s nude form was a potential disaster, and the older woman’s curves grew more magnetic by the second as water and suds made rivers down all of her most tempting hills and valleys. Justine felt her lust begin to strain against her squeezing thighs. She redoubled her efforts to keep it in check.
“Dear?” Anabel asked.
“Yes, Ms—er… Mrs—uh…—DOCTOR… Descoteaux?”
“Please just call me Anne, dear… for both of our sakes” Dr. Descoteaux smiled warmly, eyes closed as she rinsed herself, “Are you holding that… puddle of shampoo for any particular reason, or…?”
Anabel was already rinsing the conditioner out of her hair. Justine must have spaced out. Embarrassed, she put her hand in the water and let the shampoo wash down the drain.
“Decided not to wash your hair, dear?”
“Nah… I’ll wash it at home…” Justine sighed.
“Probably for the best. It can be difficult to get all the soap out of braids like yours. Best to take your time in your own shower rather than a strange locker room.”
“Yeah…” Justine agreed.
“They are beautiful, by the way,”
“Whuh?”
“Your braids,” Anabel clarified, “Did your mother teach you?”
“Yeah… and if I’m being honest, she usually helps me. I have no coordination in a mirror at all…”
“Justine, if your mother lived within a hundred miles of here, it would put my hairdresser out of work,” Anabel sighed, “Even Elaine’s father is better with her hair than I am.”
This brought a question to Justine’s mind.
“M—… Doctor… Why didn’t you shower with Elaine? N-Not that I mind or anything! It’s just… well, I’m not always here… obviously… so…” Justine trailed off as she caught sight of Anabel rubbing soap over herself. The young girl’s eyes seemed to have quite a struggle to tear themselves away from Anabel—her body now covered and dripping with white, foamy suds.
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear,” The older woman tittered with a shake of her head.
“Hear what, Mrs—… Anne,” Justine stumbled as she second-guessed her choice of address once again.
“Cup an ear against that wall, dear,” Anabel chuckled, tilting her head toward the eastern corner of the shower, “You’ll understand.”
Confused and intrigued enough to follow the doctor’s odd directions without argument, Justine cupped her hands around an ear and placed them against the indicated surface. At first, she heard nothing. But after a moment, a droning tone began to stand out from the constant hiss of running water. The wall vibrated every second or so as if someone were kicking the other side. Only when she heard the restrained but audible gasps and moans did she put two and two together.
Once she heard it, she found it impossible to tune out. She wondered how she had ever done so before. Elaine was masturbating. Vigorously masturbating. Just mere feet on the other side of the tiled wall. Anabel must have seen the realization on her face because she giggled softly.
“I’m sure you understand why showering with her while she’s in this state would be rather… uncomfortable for the both of us,” Anabel explained.
“Yeah, I get it,”
Justine nodded understandingly, unable to look at Anabel while increasingly pornographic visions of the good doctor’s daughter danced through her head. Nor could she banish the question, “Was that because of me?” Had the mere sight of each other naked driven them both into the depths of sexual frustration? Justine suddenly regretted not having the nerve to knock on her shower stall…
“I should explain; Elaine is…—” Anabel trailed off, making circles with her hands to draw the proper words from her mind, “—She becomes quite alarmingly aroused after matches. The sweat, the physical exhaustion, the heavy breathing… they all—shall we say—produce a particular itch; An itch which is thusly scratched…”
The doctor gestured to the eastern wall once again. Justine’s legs were beginning to burn with exertion, her cock intent on making its presence known. She felt like a total degenerate. Anabel was confiding in her a potentially embarrassing secret of her daughter’s, and her cock drooled precum with every new detail, painting increasingly salacious scenes in her mind.
“I’ve been trying to play matchmaker for some time, but none can seem to keep up with the poor thing’s libido. In my desperation, I’ve even tried sending two or three at a time. She’s proved to be somewhat insatiable…”
That latest anecdote certainly didn’t help much.
“You look frightfully uncomfortable, Justine…—Oh dear me, I apologize if I’ve over-shared,” She approached with some concern as Justine’s back pressed against the tile in an attempt to take some of the weight off of her awkwardly-positioned legs currently tasked with concealing her arousal, “I hope you won’t think any less of dear Elaine.”
Justine certainly wouldn’t be thinking any less of Elaine. In fact, she might be thinking of Elaine at least once a day for the rest of her life.
“Are you sexually active, dear?”
That question popped Justine out of her lustful haze and put a flush in her cheeks. She stumbled for an answer for a moment or two but finally shook her head.
“Dear? You’re looking a little ill…” Anabel worried, “Let me look at—”
Justine’s legs wobbled as the doctor drew close, huge motherly breasts softly compressing against her own. Her resistance crumbled as Anabel’s nipples brushed over hers. Justine’s cock lept free and slapped between the older woman’s legs with a wet slap.
Justine’s heart stopped in the instant that followed. The doctor’s eyes slowly panned downward. She felt a little faint as time seemed to slow, though she could do nothing to stop the slow pan of the doctor’s eyes down to ground zero.
“Oh my… god~!” Anabel exclaimed in a whisper much too loud for Justine’s comfort. She turned her head away and covered her mouth, but her cheeks began to rouge as she found herself unable to keep her eyes off of it for long.
Anabel wrapped her fingers around Justine's traitorous cock. Justine vocalized a small apology but was still far too stunned to protest—or even come to a decision about whether or not she wanted to, for that matter.
“Is this why you’ve been acting so strangely, dear?”
"Nyeahnuh…uh…” Justine vomited out, still looking a little faint.
“Aw, sweetie—did you perhaps neglect your medication?” Anabel clicked her tongue, “tsk tsk tsk.”
“Iforgotit’msosorry—” Justine’s mind raced as she desperately tried to explain.
“Would you like my assistance?”
“…e—excuse me?” Justine’s thoughts all seemed to stop dead at the unexpected question. Anabel couldn’t mean what Justine thought she meant… could she? Surely, Justine reasoned, she must have misunderstood.
“Elaine. What do you think of her, dear?” Anabel prodded.
Justine struggled for words as several less-than-decent answers to the doctor’s question jumped to the front of her mind.
“I like her,” Justine plumped out, “Um… we had a nice convers—”
“Did you get a look at her body?” Anabel pressed on.
“P—Pardon?” Justine’s face blanked.
“When you were changing, dear. Did you look at her naked body?”
The blank look on Justine’s face took on a hint of panic.
“W—Well, I’m sure I saw a little, but I promise I wasn’t staring or anythin—“
Anabel silenced her with a finger to her lips.
“Do you find her attractive?”
Justine nodded with a flush in her cheeks.
“I’ll be frank, dear—This particular 'frustration' of hers has begun to affect her athletic performance. I was hoping that you might be willing to help… soothe her… assuming you’re up to the task,”
“Oh,” Justine monotoned once more, her body language showing only confusion and mild panic.
“Dear, are you quite alright?”
“W—I mean—… Yea—Just—”
“Justine, if you’d like me to leave—”
“No!” Justine blurted out, far more imperatively than she had intended to.
As powerful as her anxiety regarding the situation was, her desire was far stronger. The dull ache of unsatisfied lust radiated from the lowest depths of her overburdened nuts to the pit of her stomach. As increasingly salacious visions played through her mind, the objections of her anxiety were soon completely unhearable—buried beneath the symphony of moaning MILFs that echoed through her mind.
“In which case… I believe you and my Elaine might just be a rather fortuitous solution to each other’s problems. Now would be the perfect opportunity to test that, as well as provide you some relief.”
Justine made several sounds—unfortunately, none of them words—as her brain began to melt down. Anabel put a finger to the younger girl’s lips.
“I’m going to make you ejaculate, Justine,” she stated matter-of-factly, “Is that okay with you?”
Justine hesitated for a split second, but slowly began to nod. Anabel smiled as she snuggled up closer, pressing her full, pillowy lips to Justine’s. Her hands danced their way down the lithe girl’s body. Justine stood stiff as a board with her back pressed against the wall, completely lost for what to do with herself. After a second or two, Anabel pulled back and looked at her.
“Dear, is everything alright?”
“Yes!” Justine whispered back.
Anabel raised an eyebrow, obviously less than convinced.
“Sorry… I—I’m just a little nervous…”
“It’s quite alright, Justine,” Anabel reassured, “You just let me know if I make you uncomfortable, alright?”
Justine nodded, eager for the doctor to continue. Anabel resumed her deep kiss, playfully prodding Justine’s tongue with her own as her hands reached Justine’s bouncing cock once more. Upon wrapping her hand around it, her eyes popped open. She stepped back, holding the impressive shaft in her hands as she looked down to examine it.
“Oh my…” Anabel gasped, slightly in awe as she sunk to her knees, “Why, look at the size of it…”
“I—it’s not that big…” Justine muttered.
“Dear, I know my hands are rather petite, but…” Anabel gripped it with both hands to illustrate her point, “…I’d need about four of them to cover all this. Where I come from, we consider that quite large…”
Justine didn’t have a response to that, so she couldn’t manage to look at Anabel. The doctor giggled at Justine’s shyness.
“Have you measured?”
“Huh?” Justine asked reflexively, “N—No.”
Anabel directed a disbelieving smirk up toward Justine. Justine looked away.
“It’s only like… 8 inches…” she said quietly.
“8 inches around, maybe…” Anabel chuckled.
Justine hid her face behind a hand to hide the flush in her cheeks and the guilty look in her eyes.
“Your mother told me it was large, dear… but I never expected such an obscene… monstrous thing…”
“My… m—mom told y—you?” Justine stuttered, utterly mortified.
“…And your father… dear lord, she was nowhere near this large. My husband was bigger than her, but you…”
“Wait… how do—”
“That’s not to say she was unskilled, mind you—Kris knew her way around the bedroom, to be sure… and she curled my toes at every opportunity given—but this…” Anabel’s hands continued to explore her cock, “…This is a masterpiece…”
Justine cried out in pleasure as the creamy-skinned MILF pinched her shaft just around the base with her left hand and gave it a deep, rough stroke up and down with her right.
“Mrs—Doct—Anne…!” Justine began, trying to explain her current predicament.
“Do you want me to suck your cock, dear?”
Justine froze as she felt the sporty MILF’s words echo in her mind. The protests of her rational mind had long been silenced. Her head began to slowly rock back and forth in a slow, silent nod.
“Mmm… good girl. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. My pace might be a trite slow. I haven’t handled one this size since undergrad…”
Justine vocalized in an attempt to assure the vixen that her efforts would be appreciated regardless of their speed, but what came out was mumbling gibberish and another slow nod.
Anabel wore an infectious smile as she guided Justine’s cock through her parted lips. Humming softly in delight, she repeatedly engulfed the glans with her soft lips, planting a kiss at the tip with each retreat.
Justine’s mouth fell agape. Her fingers grasped and slipped across the wet tile, trying in vain to find something to grab onto. With weak knees, she braced herself against the wall, breath catching with every note of Anabel’s delightful melody.
Anabel grasped Justine’s shaft around the base with both hands. With a devilish grin, she sucked hard on the virgin glans. Her cheeks sunk inward until the convex dimples grew deep enough to touch Justine’s swollen cockhead. Then she began her retreat.
Justine slapped both hands over her mouth as Anabel’s velvety soft mouth vacuum sealed around her throbbing prick. She weakly protested the cruel overstimulation, shaking her head while her feet had begun to slip out from under her. Her muscles clenched and spasmed, dousing Anabel’s throat in a liberal coating of sticky precum. Just when she thought she might explode…
Pop!
“Oh godddd…” Justine moaned through her clenched fingers, half in relief and half in disappointment.
“I’m sorry, dear—you’re just too big!” Anabel released Justine’s shaft and sat back on her knees, observing the twitching mass and the heavy, throbbing burden stored in the tanks below with predatory rapture.
“P—please don’t stop…” Justine whined pathetically.
“Okay… okay… I’ll stop teasing you…” Anabel chuckled playfully, “Hand me the soap, dear.”
Anabel gave the glans a rather wet kiss and smothered the shaft in between her more than generous breasts. Justine gasped in surprise as her hips needily lurched forward, thrusting into the soft, pillowy cleft of the doctor’s bosom. With a liberal coating of soap, the sudsy, slippery cleavage around her cock quickly drew her back to the rapturous peak of climax.
“Enjoying yourself, dea—”
Anabel didn’t get to finish her question before a gooey jet painted a white stripe across her face. Justine twitched and trembled silently against the wall, both hands clasped tightly over her mouth as her orgasm overpowered her.
It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She had always understood that sex would feel better than going solo, but to experience it was something else entirely. Powerful urges from deep within her core propelled her viscid lust down her bulging under-vein and out the tip of her rock-hard cock—the creamy ropes either splattering across Anabel’s encouraging smile or gurgling loudly as they shot between the smothering cleft of her tits.
“Oh… g—god…” Justine finally gasped as her orgasm finally tapered off.
“Oh, dear! What a mess!” Anabel giggled, milking the last from Justine’s softening cock.
Anabel stood up and began to wash herself in the shower stream. Looking down at Justine’s slumping form, she clicked her tongue.
“You’ve certainly got the equipment and the gusto, sweetie…” She shook her head and closed her eyes to rinse the shampoo from her hair, “…but you’ll have to work on that stamina if you hope to keep up with Elaine.”
“Can I go again?”
Anabel jumped a little, surprised to feel Justine’s body pressed against her back. She glanced down between her thighs as Justine rubbed her shaft between them.
“Oh… y—…you’re already hard…? Again…?” Anabel stumbled, quite surprised.
Justine nodded, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh of Anabel’s breasts, freshly rinsed of her generous release.
"Justine…?" Anabel prodded cautiously, "Ready for another round already?"
"Y—yeah… sorry, Doct—I mean uh…—Anne," Justine corrected, slightly short of breath, "I'm a little… y'know…it's been a while—well no… I guess I kinda… took care of it… earlier… but—"
Justine trailed off, her speech somewhat slurred beneath her increasingly ragged breathing. Her hips thrust slowly back and forth, rubbing her rigid meat between Anabel's creamy thighs.
"I see… not your first time today?"
"N—no, ma'am…" Justine confessed, "S—sorry…"
"No need to apologize, sweetie," Anabel placed a hand on Justine's cheek and a quick kiss on the other, "It's impressive to have so much left. You practically gave me a second shower. I can't imagine what you left in the shower this morning…"
Justine smiled at the attention and affirmation.
"What set you off, hmmmm~?"
Justine stammered for a moment.
"Don't be shy, dear…"
"Y—you and Elaine…" Justine bashfully admitted, "When my mom told me to tighten my strings… I was… yeah…"
Anabel was briefly amused but soon came to a realization.
"You… dear, that was less than an hour ago…"
"Mm—hmm…" Justine grunted, trying and failing to be patient, and continued humping Anabel's thighs.
"And… you came once before…?"
"T—twice…" Justine clarified, "I forgot… um… my pills. Well, I dropped them… s—so…"
“Oh my… quite the marathoner, aren’t you?” Anabel trailed off in realization, muttering to herself, "Just like her father…"
“S—sorry? Did you say som—” Justine began.
“Oh, it’s nothing, my dear,” Anabel giggled.
"C—can I put it in now, Dr. Descoteaux?" Justine badgered, her thrusts now rapid enough that their wet skin lightly clapped on contact with one another, "I—I'll do better this time! Promise!"
"A—alright, dear. Just take it sl—" Anabel trailed off into a breathless moan as Justine pushed inside without hesitation, "Oooh… oh my god…"
"A—are you okay?" Justine leaned forward to peek over Anabel's shoulder—her expression both concerned and apologetic. She worried that she had hurt the doctor in her eagerness, and felt more than a little embarrassed at herself.
"Fffff—… fine.," Anabel responded, taking a few deep breaths, "You're just a bit… larger than I realized…"
"D—do you want me to stop, Doct—I mean…"
"No, dear…" Anabel interjected, "Just… keep still for a moment? While I get used to you…"
Justine nodded, cautiously wrapping her arms around Anabel. A soft hum of contentment escaped her lips, and she nuzzled her cheek into Justine's, which was still perched gently on her shoulder. Emboldened, Justine began to explore her partner's body with sweeping, gentle caresses.
"Hmhnh…" Anabel mumbled, biting her lips together.
Just as it was on the tennis court, Justine's precision was of the sort that is engineered rather than performed. Her fingers steadily worked Anabel's clit through the increasingly slick folds of her hood, prodding and caressing in small circles in time with her first few cautious thrusts.
“O—Oh… oh fu—… d—dear—” It was Anabel’s turn to struggle for words. Justine’s pace quickened steadily with every bit of encouragement that Anabel’s moan’s provided. Justine sank deeper and deeper into her slavering depths and planted soft kisses on her neck and shoulders as she slid an exploratory finger or two across her partner’s swollen little bud. Before long, the doctor’s generous breasts were pressed firmly to the tile, her hands flat beside them to brace herself on the wall as Justine pounded her equally generous backside.
“I’m… I’m close, Annie…” Justine panted into Anabel’s ear.
Justine’s words pulled Anabel’s mind back to earth just in time for her orgasm to begin. As it arced through her body like a flowing current, she managed to utter only a single word.
“Inside…”
Justine’s eyes widened briefly as her climax arrived ahead of schedule, the cum-trembling MILF’s breathless command setting a torch on her already simmering lust. She thrust hard into Anabel, which drew a final wet clap from her bouncing booty, and pressed her face against the cool tile alongside her hands and breasts. Anabel’s wetness squirted out as Justine’s load poured in, the both of them shuddering and twitching with climax.
Moans bordering on screams echoed in the small shower stall. Justine thrust deeply as her cum poured into Anabel. With her mons already pressed firmly against the doctor’s ass, she continued to buck her hips—wishing every last millimeter of her cock to sink inside. Her clitoral ministrations continued, pushing Anabel to a second orgasm—the sensation of being filled so generously priming the creamy MILF to peak once more.
When Justine withdrew, a deluge of white followed her wilting erection, pouring from Anabel’s well-fucked pussy not unlike a small stream—The sight of which already had Justine’s cock pumping back to attention. When Anabel slid sensually down the wall and got down on all fours, it had already begun to throb and leak once more.
Anabel put a hand under the stream of leaking cum from her pussy, then smeared the slimy release between her spread cheeks—lubing her asshole methodically and thoroughly.
“Whu… One more test…” Anabel slurred, her breath heavy with need, “I hope you’re not spent just yet…”
Anabel got her answer in short order. Justine practically pounced onto the MILF’s milky-white ass. She dragged her cock across Anabel’s lower back, across the thong-shaped tanline, and finally into the cleft of her spread ass. With a hand braced against the wall for balance, Justine lined her leaking glans up with Anabel’s tight little starfish.
A tentative thrust made Anabel’s breath catch as Justine carefully prodded her entrance. A second one made her squirm. By the third, she kicked her feet impatiently—practically begging Justine to continue.
“I suppose turnabout is fair play, but please dear…” Anabel glanced back at Justine, face flushed as she held her lascivious pose, “…don’t tease me.”
Truthfully, Justine hadn’t intended to tease—far from it. While 90% of her brain cells were currently fixated on sinking balls deep into Anabel’s ass, the remaining 10% were somewhat concerned. Her overeagerness had already caused the doctor serious discomfort once, after all. She was merely being careful, not vindictive.
“W—wh—… oh, I wasn’t—… I was just try—” Justine’s attempts to communicate this seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Anabel promptly interrupted.
“Please fuck my ass, Justine,”
It was the sort of request that simply bypassed the brain. Before Justine had even consciously processed what Anabel had said, her hamstrings had already contracted. Her hips thrust violently. Anabel’s poor little back door squeezed with all it had but could do nothing against such an onslaught. It twitched around Justine’s wide base as her rapidly filling nuts made a wet slap against Anabel’s freshly fucked pussy.
Anabel squealed with delight as Justine took an unprompted fistful of her hair.
“I’m… I’m gonna move now…” She huffed with a heretofore unseen sternness in her voice.
“Mmmhmmm…” Anabel moaned through her bottom lip, pinched between her wide smile, “Pay special attention, dear…”
Anabel raised off the floor and whispered over her shoulder into Justine’s ear.
“This is Elaine’s favorite~”
Justine’s fingers sunk into the soft flesh of Anabel’s wide hips as she withdrew, directing their sway as their rhythm’s tempo rapidly escalated. Within a few seconds, Justine was full-on reaming the older woman’s generous backside. Anabel’s fingers slid down to her swollen clit, and she rubbed her cum-drenched jellybean in vigorous circles as Justine’s cum continued to drip down from her pussy.
Climax wasn’t far for either of them. Justine’s sack had been swollen and heavy since the start of the second game, and the problem had only gotten worse with her two opponents bouncing around the court in their form-fitting gear. Now that the fantasies dancing in her head had seemingly come true, she could never hold back for long.
The same was true of Anabel, however. The surprisingly forceful ass fucking had scratched her itch, and Justine was giving her exactly what she had craved. Her muscles began to twitch as she writhed in pleasure, unable to keep her moans quiet any longer.
“Fu—…fu—…fuck me… oh god, fuck me, Daddy!”
“CUMMING…” Justine growled with failing restraint as her aching balls flooded Anabel’s guts with spurt after spurt of hot, claggy white cum. She continued to thrust deeply as Anabel’s pussy squirted her release, tinged with the white of Justine’s previous deposit.
“Oh… oh my god… are you still…?” Anabel asked over her shoulder, out of breath and somewhat astonished.
“Mhm…” Justine grunted with obvious heat in her cheeks, her self-consciousness returning with every ounce of jism she released, “S—sorry…”
“Oh god… Don’t apologize, dear. It’s just—URP!” Anabel covered her mouth in embarrassment as she eyed her slightly bloated midsection, “I’m getting rather… full…”
As her spurts were beginning to taper off, Justine thrust hard and deep one last time. The final rope seemed to fire twice as hard and twice as much, eliciting another little squirm from Anabel. Completely spent, Justine finally pulled her softening cock free, leaving a river of white pouring from both of Anabel’s freshly fucked holes.
“Ooooh… fuck…” Anabel sighed, chewing her bottom lip with a wide smile, “I think I quite like you…”
Epilogue
“So, did you have fun with Annie?”
“W—what?” Justine startled from her daydream and looked over to her mother, “What um—what do you mean?”
“Your little song and dance. With all the aces you served? She was soooo mad,” Minerva laughed, drumming her hands happily on the steering wheel.
“O—oh… haha yeah…” Justine sighed in relief, “I’m sure it was just an off day for her.”
“Hardly. You wore that ass out, J!” Minerva laughed, “Annie told me her legs felt like jelly before you even finished the first round.”
Justine didn’t respond and dodged the interaction by taking a long sip from her water bottle. She looked out the window, feeling heat rush to her face again.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You get your stamina from your father, you know…” Minerva talked with her hands as always, and put a hand on Justine’s shoulder, “And Annie? God, she was always a sweaty, panting mess after Kris got done with her.”
Justine’s eyes practically bulged out of her head. Her water shot out of her nose as she choked, and a fit of breathless coughing soon followed. Minerva patted her back with concern.
“Oh, sweetie. Are you alright?”
“F—fine,” Justine nodded, still coughing as her body tried to clear her airway of liquid, “D—did Anabel… um… tell you…?”
“Tell me what, sweetie?” Minerva asked, “I haven’t talked to her since she went to the shower.”
“Oh, just y’know…” Justine breathed a sigh of relief, “You asked her to check my eye. She said I got lucky, so I should be fine.”
“That’s good to hear, sweetheart,” Minerva smiled.
The radio played over the silence that followed for a few minutes. Justine had learned more about her parent’s sexual exploits that week than she ever wanted to know. Thankfully, they were almost home.
“So, did she call you Daddy?” Minerva prodded with a knowing smirk.
“M—… Mom!” Justine gasped, covering her face, “Oh my god…”
“She did! I knew it! Bitch owes me $50!” Minerva cackled.
“Oh my god, kill me…” Justine whined, curling into a little ball of embarrassment.
“Oh, don’t be like that, honey,” Minerva laughed.
“How did you—”
“Baby, I set the whole thing up,” Minerva proudly announced, “Annie said she was going nuts ever since her husband went to Hong Kong for business. You needed to get some ass so you could stop being so weird about it. So I made sure you two had the opportunity.”
Justine refused to un-ball herself and pouted as she looked out the window.
“That was a nasty trick, Mom. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? I made myself look like an idiot…”
“Sorry, sweetie. Mother knows best,” Minerva chuckled as they pulled into the driveway and parked. “Besides, I think you’ll forgive me.”
“Hmph. And why is that?” Justine glared.
“Because I put Elaine Descoteaux’s number in your phone for you,” Minerva grinned, unhooking her seatbelt, “She asked me to give it to you before she left. Said something about a sponsorship meeting being canceled .”
“Wh—” Justine glanced down at her phone, “Uh… would it be okay if we unload my stuff… later?”
“You want to leave it in the car for now?” Minerva raised an eyebrow, “Got somewhere else to be?”
“J—just need to um… loosen my strings…”
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