From beginning to end, our encounter has lasted maybe ten minutes. But it is ten minutes in which I have been branded, changed, taken in a way I have never allowed myself to be taken before. Not just because he’s hot, but because when he looked into my eyes, I felt a sense of connection that I know to be rare in this world.
He came here for me. I don’t know him, but I get the feeling he knows me. These thoughts are near mystical in nature, but that doesn’t stop them from being true. Nor does it stop my pussy from being covered in and filled with a complete stranger’s seed.
My lover releases his grip, his cock sliding out of my ravaged pussy.
“Wear my cum,” he growls. “Keep it against your cunt tomorrow. Don’t change until I see you again.”
“I’m going to see you again?”
“I’ll find you.”
“But you don’t know…”
“I’ll find you,” he repeats flatly. And he leaves. He leaves me there, smeared in his cum, dripping with his seed. He leaves me with my legs spread, my panties down. He leaves me like the dirty well used woman I am.
I pick myself up, pull my skirt down, and go back to my friends.
Chapter Four
Daniel
I am stronger.
I am better.
These aren’t thoughts. These are truths. There’s no pain in my leg, because there’s no pain anywhere. I spring out of bed in one easy motion, feeling an easy athleticism that I haven’t felt in my body since the morning of that accident.
It’s like I’m fifteen again, but with the power of a thirty-year-old. I extend my arms and see muscularity that wasn’t there yesterday.
My cock is hard as hell. Morning wood like never before. I’m horny, and alone. I find myself prowling my apartment, just looking for something to fuck. I almost don’t notice how easily I’m walking. All I ever wanted was to be able to move like a man. Now I can, I don’t care. I just want to have sex.
There’s nobody to take, of course. What was I thinking? That the treatment would not only repair my damaged tissue but also manifest a willing woman lying spread-eagle pussy up on my couch? In the end, I find myself with my cock in my hand, pumping the cum out with rough strokes. There’s a magazine on the table with a woman smiling at me on the cover.
The thoughts that cloud my brain are hot and brutal. I don’t see the woman on the cover. It’s her face that swims before my eyes. Briarlee. I used to feel guilty masturbating and thinking about her, but now all I feel is a deep primal desire to own her.
I come all over the magazine, shoot thick loads over the smiling woman until her face and tits are obscured. It’s a quick, dirty act, but it clears my mind enough for me to realize that the way I’m feeling is probably due to the treatment.
Which works.
It fucking works! I can’t wait to find that asshole who turned my trial down yesterday, prove that I know what I’m doing. Can’t do it today though. They’ll call me irresponsible. They’ll cut what remains of my funding. Report me. Etc. I’m going to have to keep pretending to be injured until I have enough data to prove that this works long term.
My phone buzzes. I pick it up and see it’s another text from Briarlee. She wants to have lunch again. Well, okay. I’ll have to keep playing the cripple, but I can’t wait to see her.
* * *
Same place. Same time as usual.
She’s actually there before me. I have to make a show of limping along. I’ve already almost forgotten how. The moment I see her, lust rises in me. I used to be able to push it away and contain it. Now it’s so much more urgent, so much more demanding. I sit down before my erection tents my pants to an unforgivable degree.
Briarlee looks good. Her hair is loose and she’s wearing a summer dress that floats about her hips.
“There’s something different about you today,” she says as I sit down.
I could say the same about her. There’s something very different about her. An aura of satisfaction. Her eyes have a look about them like a cat that has just woken up from a nice nap in a sunbeam.
“Nothing different.”
I don’t like lying to her. I’d love to show her what’s happened to me. I’m on the verge of doing so when she opens her mouth again.
“I got laid last night.”
My heart sinks like a stone. What? She went out and fucked someone? She’d usually be more discreet about the way she described it, and I’d usually push down my feelings before I could feel the anger that rises at the idea of any man besides me having his way with her.