Roberta Taylor - Nasty Sharon

"Are you being mysterious just to tease rue?"

"Perhaps I am." Lita left the room. Shortly she returned, bearing a tray, a cocktail shaker and two stemmed glasses. She set the tray on the coffee table before the couch and sat beside Sharon.

Sharon eyed her. Lita's lovely, jutting, golden breasts, the dainty tuft of pussy hair marking her crotch, the long, sleek legs, were as yesterday, the same as last night, but somehow Sharon did not feel that crazy urge to make it with the woman. The image of Tom's dark, stiffly curved cock was still weaving about in her mind.

Lita poured drinks. "Sleep all day?"

"Not all day."

She wondered at the evasiveness of her answer. Why not tell Lita she had been fucking with a wonderful young man? It would seem disloyal, she guessed. This was her boss' house, and his wife. Her job, her promotion, depended on this. So she held her tongue.

The drink Lita had poured for her was crystal clear, a dry martini. She sipped it. Strong.

Lita's fingers wove into hers. "Darling, you're thoughtful. Trouble?"

"I'm not quite awake yet I guess." She sipped more of the drink. Really strong. But it slipped down her throat like lemonade. She drank most of it.

Observing that, Lita smiled. "Darling, you'll get high as a kite."

"I need it."

Lita refilled the glass. As Sharon sipped it she felt the girl's arm curl about her shoulders. The touch was not unpleasant, but it was, to tell the truth, nothing.

She settled back against the couch, with Lita watching her intently. Sharon drank most of the second glass, then set it on the table. Enough. She felt loose right down to her toes.

Something strange happened. It began as a blush seeping down her cheeks to her throat. Then her titties became hot and seemed to swell out before her. Her cunt felt like it was expanding, forcing her legs apart. She uncrossed them, spreading her thighs to make room for her bloating pussy.

She gasped, "Lita, that drink was terribly strong."

"I warned you, sweetie."

Sharon looked at the other girl's face. Her dark eyelashes seemed to have grown out to inky fans. Beneath them her eyes glowed darkly. The cores were ruby lights. Her mouth was crimson, a gaping wound in which pearly teeth held her glistening tonguetip trapped.

The room had become darker.

Sharon turned to Lita. Their mouths met. Her own lips felt fat, magnified, sucking voluptuously at the other's, admitting a giant tongue and licking it slowly, sensuously, wallowing in the exchange of liquid caresses. It was a kiss with, somehow, more than two tongues in it. Her fingers stroked Lita's cheeks, and the velvet of her flesh was so delicate that she plucked it out, worked it in her fingers as though testing to make sure it was human.

She gazed at Lita's breasts, cones protruding in the gown.

Then Lita whispered, "Darling, please undress."

Sharon numbly obeyed. She rose from the couch and stretched the halter out in front, lifting it up her titties. She did it more slowly than she had ever done anything before. As she skinned the halter over her head and up her arms she realized that the drinks had done this. Had there been something besides gin and vermouth in the glass?

She unhooked the waist of her shorts, zipped down, eased the garments to her knees and let them fall. She stood there, cupping her hands on her breasts and exploring them. They did not seem like hers. She had to reach far out in front of herself to grasp the giant red caps, which were too large for her hands to cover.

She switched her torso. The huge tits swayed like a pair of watermelons floating within her encircling arms.

She asked, "Lita, what was in that drink?"

"A mild aphrodisiac, darling. I know, people say that true aphrodisiacs do not exist except for the dangerous Spanish fly. But if you're willing to pay, there is a source."

Sharon dropped her hands to her pussy. Trying to encompass it was like exploring a hairy, spilt football. No, that was not the shape of it, but the size. She placed a hand in her gash. A voluptuous rolling began within her. She looked down at Lita, who had opened her transparent negligee.

Lita was equally transformed. Her breasts were swollen spheres, like pumped-up balloons capped with giant red puffs drawn out to long points like cocks. And Lita's tidy little blonde pussy had grown to a yellow jungle protruding a foot.

Sharon crouched over her. She had to test the illusion that Lita's nipples were two red cocks. She fingered one. Had her hand somehow diminished?

She fisted the length of nip and found that the rosy tip protruded from the index finger and thumb circling it. She bent to the other nipple, her mouth yawning. The nip filled her mouth like a banana. And yet, as she sucked it, the cylinder seemed to return to its old proportions. Had her mouth grown larger? She faced an aureole the size of a dinner plate, mounted on a golden bill.

She shut her eyes to try and get her bearings. By feel, the nipple in her lips was normal, but when she looked all she could see was a puffed aureole larger than her face.

She felt Lita's hand move in between her legs. Gentle fingers stroked her cunt. Curd drool spilled and the touch became buttery. Her hole was a flyer, flowing endlessly.

At last she rose up from the girl's tit and looked into her eyes.

"Lila, you said there would be something special. I like this. It's queer, but really groovy. Strange, though."

"Honey, the drug is only a preliminary. The really special thing is behind you. Here, sit down."

Sharon dropped to the sofa, into the curve of Lita's arm. Her vision seemed heavy. With an effort she swung her gaze in the direction Lita had indicated.

There stood Bud Connoly.

Her boss was naked, a dark, stocky wedge of a man, his chest matted with black fur. His cock was fully erect.

Sharon stared at it. Her perception of him was as inflated as those of Lita. This was no cock, but a cylinder of dark meat as big as his thigh. The head of it, she thought, was like a coconut. And the scrotum hanging from his crotch was a black-haired bag stretched by two great cobblestones. But when he spoke, reality returned.

"I seem to recall seeing you two girls in some whorehouse."

His standard joke told in his drawling, country-boy accent.

Lita laughed.

Sharon felt Lita's arm curl tighter about her. A hand raised her right breast. A thumb rubbed the nipple.

Bud sat down on the coffee table, close enough that his knee almost touched Sharon's. His cock angled up toward her face. His scrotum hung down from the table, the immense balls resting on the floor.

He said, "Now don't you girls pay me any mind. I'll just sit here and watch you have fun."

Out of the chaos of her mind, Sharon pulled some truths. She was naked in Lita's arms. Lita's husband sat facing them, naked. He was grinning, his cock erect. He wanted to watch two girls making love.

Lita said, "Sharon darling, this is my little surprise. You see, Bud is never unfaithful to me because he prefers waiting until I can really turn him on with another girl. Oh, we've been watching you for months. You fill our needs perfectly. Above all, you are rapaciously ambitious. You will do anything to get Nancy's job. You see, Bud is not – nor am I – interested in a quickie. We want a girl we can count on to join our little family."

Bud said, "Lila told me about the little old white car you got your heart set on, Sharon. It's yours. And so is Nancy's job."

Sharon could not believe it.

Lita said, "We had to start with you and me, darling. Because Bud insists that the girl who joins our family must really like cunt. He can't be fooled. Will you show him how you adore my pussy?"

The words sank slowly into the drugged fuzziness of Sharon's mind.