by Audrey Drake
A few minutes later, and the spry junior Nikki was dry fucking her elder, that is, if you could really consider either of them dry at this point, soaked with sweat as they were and their pussies so drenched one would think they'd each somehow attempted to straddle a hurricane. That aside, the whippersnapper was grinding her whippersnapper against her captive's own sopping gash, pulsing and scraping and smothering as though to snuff out her own reproductive capabilities. The skin of their femininities stretched and distorted, repositioned and then snapped back into place, all before repeating the cycle again, and again, and again and again and again, their tits waggling about fiercely, Jr's swinging all over the place, Sr.'s jiggling about in two sweaty gelatinous blobs on her chest, courtesy of the gorgeous compressive nature of gravity.
In almost no time at all the two identical lesbians were climaxing, screaming at the top of their lungs like banshees, “Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!”, the entire fivesome having cum all over one another before any sort of heterosexual genital mingling could even get underway.
They all had to a rest for a bit upon the vicious bursting of each of their bodies across the floors of the lab, the entire group catching their collective breath before starting back at it again, aroused and as deviant as ever in their lusts.
After a bit of swapping around, oldest Justin getting a blowjob from youngest Nikki, oldest Nikki giving a double hand job to both present day Justin and oldest Justin, all five of them lying around and nibbling one another's privates in a daisy chain, etc., they at last settled on one final, orgasmic new ordering.
Running a series of hot, seductive kisses up and down along the body of the Justin who, only a few hours earlier, had been a virgin, the present-day Nikki lay him down to rest on his back, his valiant, cum-soaked erection thrust vertically into the air, oriented perfectly for her as she slithered her body down along him, bouncing freely up and down atop him a few times just to get his juices going, because once things were set up the poor boy was going to be rather smothered, and very little motion such as this would be granted him. The other three, meanwhile, all jacked themselves off while they waited, so that the sensations experienced by Nikki and Justin as they humped about upon one another's sweaty, exhausted bodies was intensified all the more.
They decided from this point to work their way up chronologically, and after a while Nikki settled her bouncing, much to J. Jr.'s disappointment as her jiggling tits came to a rest on her body. She leaned her body down onto him, the same tits pressing hotly up against him, and he decided that he could live with it as she began to plant several hot, wet kisses on his lips.
Her pussy now spread, and enough space remaining unoccupied in there to allow for a co-conspirator, the present day Justin wandered over. He leaned down, seized hold of Nikki's legs, splayed them apart, and began to lick away at her ever-moistening pussy, running several long, tender strokes around the dilated lips of her labia, careful to graze his former self's inserted cock with his tongue several times in the process. Nikki could feel the lad squirming underneath her from the application of his own mouth to his privates, and she looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend, a smile across her lips that read, Ha, ha, very funny. But don't you think you've tortured the poor kid enough?
Justin shrugged, pulled away his lips, and sank the long, veiny, curved blade of his cock into her, again careful to glide as much of his own skin across that of his former self as possible, their erections colliding, their skin stretching across one another's as he made his way all the way inside the dark recesses of her pussy. Nikki felt him shudder underneath her again, and she rolled her eyes.
Boys will be boys, she thought dryly, but still smiling, thrilled at the prospect of the perverse and wonderful thing they were all about to do to one another.
Little Nikki was the next to join the order. She got down on her knees, and very carefully sat down on the youngest Justin's already smothered face, spreading her legs out so that her cooter's lips aligned neatly with the lad's own. It was adorable the bond these two teenage selves had, Nikki thought, probably the most clingy of all the potential couplings due to the hormones and whatnot. And then she felt Justin junior's tongue slide unannounced up her cunt by proxy, and she shivered, no longer really thinking anything.
Finally, the eldest of the whole group, Justin Sr., sauntered over to the pile. It was difficult for him to find room at first to insert himself, but where there was a hard willy, there was a way, and after clambering and clawing over the bodies of a couple other Justins, he managed to find room to squeeze his body in at the top of the pile, forcing one final, veiny cock into Nikki's overstuffed body, curving the fat girth of his blade into the pinprick-sized hole of Nikki's ass, causing both Nikkis to shriek out a minuscule “Peep!” in pleasant agony.
He leaned in across the pile, planting his lips onto those of Nikki Jr., and seizing a firm hold on her tits, and the pile was complete.
There they were. The five of them now a hot, throbbing, suffocating pile, their bodies collapsed in on one another, the sweat dripping down from the top trickling down to the collective's lowest depths, a triple penetration, a face-riding cunt-muncher, and a make-out session up top separated by almost thirty years of age. Limbs twisted, cocks slid dangerously across one another, asses clenched and stung and burned and humped as the three Justins began thrusting, their libidos such that despite the crushing weight of so many fucking bodies pressed atop one another they were able to tear through the constrictions to their movement, their cocks bolting with hot, wet rapidity into Nikki's stifled orifices, their skin clapping together, emanating across the room, their cries and sighs and moans of passion echoing through the lab as every one of their sensations was felt multiple times through the bodies of their compatriots, and following about ten minutes' worth of protracted five-way fucking, their bodies all exploded into an unbearable sensation of orgasm.
Cocks exploded, cum swirled about inside bodies, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine times inside Nikki, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen times inside her junior, their bodies writhing in wonderful anguish beneath the weight of so many hot loads.
Everyone screamed out in delectable horror, their bodies drifting away, collapsing through multiple dimensions, the very fabric of space-time bursting forth from out of their convulsing anatomies.
The risk, they all decided as they faded into a sleeping heap, had been all too entirely worth it.
The End
Lust In Time – The Complete Series
Captain Erotica - The First Offender
Chapter One
Terri Totts walked purposefully through the gray, seriously lit halls of the top secret government agency known as S.H.A.F.T. These were the types of gray, seriously lit halls that are designed to be walked purposefully through, with narrow walls and evenly spaced fluorescent lights up above, so that with every step you took you alternated between light, shadow, light, shadow, light, shadow. It would have been a shame if she hadn't walked with purpose through these over-serious halls, and she would have absolutely hated to disappoint her most gracious hosts at S.H.A.F.T. by making her trip through their facilities with even an ounce of casualness to her stride.
She was stopped by a pair of appropriately serious-looking S.H.A.F.T. agents in uniform at the entrance to the room where she was headed, and they insisted that they search her for weapons before she went in. The lettering on their breast pockets read “T&A,” and she suspected that their true purposes had a bit more to do with sex than security, but she didn't mind. This, after all, was her job now, and she loved it.
They patted her down, spending an excess of time scouring her enormous breasts, ass, and the space between her legs for weapons that could not have possibly been concealed there. At last one nodded to the other, and this second agent gave her a brisk slap on the behind as though she were a horse and proclaimed, “You're clear! Go ahead inside!”
Blushing, Terri
stepped into the room.
Suffice it to say, this had been a peculiar week for Terri Totts, alias Tater Totts to those who knew her well. The strangeness had kicked off when she'd found herself in bed with her boss, eccentric billionaire Rodney Dowel Jr., alias Dowel Rod, alias Iron Rod. He'd screwed her while wearing a robotic exoskeleton, tearing her apart with a ferocity that left her sore between the legs, which was unfortunate, because the strangeness was only about to escalate from here.
From this point, Terri had a bizarre sexual encounter with a well-endowed black fellow with an eye-patch, dressed head to to in the plushy green guise of a large woodland creature. Nick Furry was his name, and he'd announced to Terri a desire to enroll her in his secret organization, S.H.A.F.T., which stood for Super Heroes And Female Teammates. S.H.A.F.T., as he'd described it, was a sort of recruitment agency, wrangling up gifted individuals far and wide to help ward off the threat of a looming evil, and Terri, with her sensual air and subtly massive tits, was elected to help recruit a team of superheroes through the glorious art of seduction.
She had graciously accepted the position, and after fucking Nick Furry four times in the bathroom of a donut shop (once anally), the sweaty, muscular fellow had presented her with a small sheet of paper. It was a list of individuals that he wanted her to fuck- er- recruit, spread about in as many places as one cared to imagine.
First up on that list, Stiff Rogers, alias Captain Erotica, who now hovered in front of her wondering eyes, frozen in a chamber of ice deep within the confines of S.H.A.F.T. headquarters. He was dressed head to toe in Americana regalia, blue helmet, red boots and all, and what's more, it was impossible not to notice almost immediately, he wore a metallic male chastity belt around his waist, a large steel sheath of an erection jutting out to contain his cock, painted from top to bottom with red and white stripes, causing his concealed genitals largely to resemble a candy cane.
Terri swallowed hard, looking nervously at the large red button she'd been given permission to press that would thaw out her popsicle of a ward. Gathering her mettle, she reached over, slamming her open palm against the plastic device, and watching as the block of ice seared away into a sloppy slosh of water.
Captain Erotica came tumbling out of his chilly chamber, landing hard in the center of the floor, panting wildly for breath after having his lungs immersed for so very long in a medium utterly deprived of oxygen.
“Holy hell,” he wheezed, at long last faintly able to speak. “How long have I been asleep?!”
“Seventy-five years,” said Terri, giving the poor wet bastard a sympathetic look.
“Shit,” he sighed, looking down at the hypnotic barber shop pole of his chastity belt. “I thought it must be something like that... You would not believe the morning wood I've got going on right now...”
Terri explained the situation quickly, so as to enlighten this long-dormant superhero before too much time passed by for him to retain his eager stiffy. She told him about S.H.A.F.T., about their plan to recruit superheroes from all around the planet to help protect the world from evil, and she told him about Phallos, the prudish intergalactic supervillain who planned to destroy all mankind by stifling human sexuality.
Despite the earnestness and urgency of her pleas, Terri finished her speech to find a scornful look plastered firmly across Stiff's groggy face. The Captain then proceeded to tell Terri a little story of his own, one that served to diminish slightly her high and lofty opinion of the organization she'd been hired to represent during these negotiations.
Stiff Rogers had been an internationally renowned hero during World War II. He'd been too scrawny and too much of a pussy to actually enlist in combat, but so great was his adamance to contribute to the war effort, that the military decided to put the young lad to good use doing something just a little bit dirtier than participating directly in warfare.
Morale on the battlefronts was understandably low. Brave men were losing their lives right and left, living conditions were brutal and life-threatening, and lusty lovers didn't see their sweethearts at home for months and months and months at a time. So many men having so little else to live for had some pretty strong sexual urges that they could find no means of fulfilling. It was thus that the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young private was called upon to go hopping about from front to front, gifting the war-weary men with as many filthy girlie magazines as they could ever possibly exhaust, and thereby sparing them some small degree of sexual frustration over the course of their darkest days.
It wasn't long before the scrawny whippersnapper was hailed as a hero by his superiors, a poster-boy for all that America stood for, and in the end an outright living, walking piece of propaganda for liberty, and the many glorious ways of democratic freedom.
Stiff Rogers was henceforth given the most auspicious title, Captain Erotica, as he shuffled about war-ravaged Europe, distributing pinups, pornography, and dirty playing cards to the many brave men in arms who were fighting so valiantly against a universally agreed-upon evil.
Things quickly took a rather difficult turn, however.
Spending so much of his young life distributing pictures of tits and asses to men whose erections bulged fiercely through their uniforms at the sight of his pornographic cargo, Captain Erotica quickly began to yearn desperately to explore his own young sexuality, to feel in reality the tender anatomy he had seen so many times pass before his eyes in flat, two-dimensional form.
This presented a problem.
There was some irony to the fact that, although he was an internationally renowned hero for handing out pictures of naked girls to a bunch of horny soldiers, women at home absolutely refused to touch the darling poster boy. His scrawniness was surely a contributing factor to being so frequently cold-shouldered by women, but the line that he found himself being fed most often was that, by sleeping with him, women would somehow diminish the honorable name of the valiant Captain Erotica, stripping him bare of all the innocence and purity he possessed as he altruistically handed out his porn. America could simply not withstand this hefty blow to its morale at this pivotal moment in history, and it was thus that no woman to be found anywhere within the ranks of the Allied Forces would go to bed with the poor, brave hero.
It was at this point that things took a dark turn for the lusty lad. With a monkey clinging firmly to his back and no women anywhere to help him get it off short of sleeping with the enemy, young Stiff Rogers decided to start spanking the damn thing himself.
Despite the prevailing wisdom of the day's greatest medical practitioners, not to mention all the knowledgeable holy men who had the courage to speak up on a matter on which God was clearly silent, Stiff Rogers began to vigorously beat off his swollen and dissatisfied stiff roger, sneaking off to the latrine with copies of the material he was supposed to be delivering to the troops, and satisfying his sinful urges in the only possible way he could devise.
Soon he was addicted, wanking every hour of the day that he wasn't busy fighting for his country, and often needing to sneak off on his own just to have a bit of private time with his privates away from the presence of all the other privates.
This, in turn, is when the trouble occurred.
The storming of Normandy had only just come to a conclusion, and Stiff Rogers had fulfilled his patriotic duties throughout the duration of the battle, continuing steadfast to the end to distribute his seedy material to all those in duress. Now, however, he was abandoned. The fight had surged forward without him, and he had been left standing quite unexpectedly along the empty shore. He looked around him, failing to come across another living soul in sight. The sight of so many long, thick weapons shooting their loads through the air had had a strangely arousing effect on him, and he still carried with him a generous collection of undistributed pornographic material.
He shrugged his shoulders.
Unzipping his pants, he took one of the magazines, whipped out his erection, and began jacking off into the sea, his periodical flipped open to a wom
an with tits bigger than Terri's as a rather helpful visual aid.
Little did he know at that moment that there was a war photographer standing nearby, snapping a shocking candid photo of the perverse and unholy scene.
Almost overnight, all of America was irate.
The pornographic poster boy who had helped the Allies win the entire war had, in that moment, become an instant whipping boy for the press, demonized and scapegoated, targeted as a symbol of America's depravity and its sexual immorality.
Stiff Rogers was humiliated. Aside from his excruciating tar-and-feathering at the hands of a vicious and unsympathetic public, some conservative factions sought to have the poor lad executed, viewing his untimely jerk-off as an act of high treason, deleterious as it was to America's reputation during war-time, and for a while Captain Erotica's chicken-choked neck appeared to be slated for the chopping block.
It was an early iteration of S.H.A.F.T. that prevented his untimely execution. T.I.P.- or, the Team for International Peace- fought on the fallen hero's behalf, and his sentence was reduced to being frozen in ice until the U.S. Government decided that he'd successfully learned his lesson. Strapping a chastity belt on him so that he didn't attempt to get one last good wank in before they could get him completely frozen, the great Captain Erotica was suspended in time, his heart and all other bodily functions stopped for over seventy years, locked away and forgotten about until it was decided that the world needed him once again.
“And that's why I'll never join S.H.A.F.T.,” he concluded in a huff, pouting as he crossed his arms stubbornly at Terri. “They took me out of my space and time, and now I can never make it back there again...”