By Amanda Wrighter


9:13 AM


Veronica Alvarez was thirty two years old, a mother, and a writer for the online news blog, The Unappreciated Truth. Sadly, she had nothing to write about. For the most part, it had been a practically uneventful week in the media and the world. Her editor had called to nag her three times already since Monday and here it was nearing Thursday and she’d yet to turn in a single headline for the fledgling, independent new site.
“He’s gonna can me,” she muttered to herself as she stood up from her computer and walked into the bathroom. She took note of herself as she passed the full length mirror mounted on the wall behind the door.
At five foot, eight…she was fairly tall, but she weighed two hundred and twenty one pounds and the height was no longer enough to distract people from her girth. At least with her ass and belly, her tits were also growing. At last check, she was wearing a 38-D, which while not all that much to some women, meant the world to her being as she’d never been larger than a C her entire life until recently.
Having two k**s had done a number on her physique. Before Hector had been born, she’d weighed in at 155 and had sported banana like, pointy, perky C-cups, a fact she often played up by not wearing bras while partying. But then she’d met Martin, the son of a Floridian Jewish school teacher and a Cuban immigrant. He was however, quite a bit older than her. He was thirty eight now, five years older than her. Not a whole lot of a difference, but definitely enough that they seemed, at times, like they were from different generations. She wondered if they had something to do with why he was cheating on her.
He was a good father and a good provider and had never raised his hand to her in the f******n years they’d been married. He’d even supported her going into writing after finishing college, but oddly the last few years the two of them had begun to drift apart.
It had started after Ruben, her youngest, had been born. She’d recovered most of her looks after Hector, the oldest, but by the time Ruben showed up, she was busy with work and keeping up with a five year old and somehow working out didn’t seem so damned important. And so she began a slow slide into weight gain.
Now days, Hector was 12 and Ruben was 7…and she was a solid sixty six pounds heavier than she had been when she met Martin. He never said much about it, but she suspected he was turned off by her body. And maybe that was also an element behind his cheating.
She looked at herself in the mirror again. Sure she was fat, but she wasn’t gross. She didn’t have any stretch marks or sagging cellulite. To her delight, most of her weight was evenly distributed and generally situated in her torso from ass cheeks to tits. She had some bodacious love handles and her upper thighs were a bit thick, but her legs remained fairly thin and tight. And while her face was pudgy, she still didn’t have a double chin for which she was most grateful.
As she stared at herself, she realized her nipples were growing harder and more erect by the second. Working from home allowed her the luxury of not having to get dressed most days, so at the moment she was wearing nothing more than a pair of high waist panties and a tight t-shirt that had long since grown too small for anything except sl**ping…so her excited nipples were pressing outward against the thin fabric as if they intended to burst out and escape. As if having long, banana shaped breasts hadn’t been enough of an oddity, her nipples, when full aroused usually were the size of the entire tip of her pinky finger. As a teenager, she’d often padded the fronts of her bras to conceal her nipples. Nothing had been more embarrassing than having them harden up and be seen, and as big as they were, few garments alone, would conceal them. And over the past few years, as her weight increased and her breasts themselves, grew larger, so too, had her nipples.
She pulled her shirt up and gawked at her tits. “Cripes,” she whispered as she compared a nipple to her pinky finger and realized that the nipple was bigger…now more akin to her index finger than the pinky. “Ridiculous,” she added, pulling her shirt back down.
As she turned the hot water in the shower on, she heard a thump on the far wall of the bathroom. Instantly she remembered summer vacation had started on Wednesday and so her boys were both still at home. Normally she’d have been alone all day, but for the next three months, she’d have to deal with the two crazed maniacs being home and driving her insane herself. It was still only nine in the morning and already they were bouncing off the walls from the sound of it.
She sighed realizing she’d have to go make breakfast before she could focus on work again. Not that she had much to focus on.
Almost makes me wish something would happen just so I could have something to write about, she thought to herself as she peeled out of her tight t-shirt and rolled her granny panties down to her ankles and kicked them off.

9:20 AM

The “Hot Nurse” bounded around the elderly man in the wheelchair and made sure to bump him with her ass as she did so.
“Sorry Mister Tanner,” she blurted with an overly cheerful apology as she made her way past the old man. She wasn’t really, nor did he complain much either. He was a nice old man with far too many health problems who seemed to practically live in the hospital. He had no f****y and his wife had died ten years earlier, so somehow she felt bad enough for him to factitiously flirt with him at least once a day just to make him smile for a bit.
As she rounded the corner and arrived at the nurses’ station desk, she noticed her longtime friend and coworker, Shelly Hayes, was seated at one of the computer consoles talking on the phone as if she were agitated.
She smiled and kept moving, deciding to continue making unnecessary rounds rather than listen to Shelly blab for an hour about whatever personal chaos she had going on. She was her friend, but of late, the woman was driving her nuts.
Despite having been a nurse for nearly ten years, the woman hated her job. On top of that, she’d gotten an official separation from her husband, Lawrence, about a year earlier and despite his lack of interest, she was still oddly determined to get back together with him. The only problem there lay with the fact that he’d already moved in with his new girlfriend and her daughter from a previous marriage. So the big stink was him demanding a full divorce and her not wanting to give in on it. So the back and forth continued constantly.
She assumed, as was likely, that Shelly was probably on the phone with him at that very moment.
“Claudia Wagner!” a distinctly male voice called out from behind her. She turned and found herself facing one of the assistant hospital administrators, Jim Dower.
“What’s up?” she asked as she turned and stepped towards him as he fully exited the elevator.
“How dead is it up here?”
“What? Oh…we got four patients…nothing serious, why?” she asked, knowing full well what was coming.
“You or Shelly…we need you to move down to the ER, we’re getting a crazy surge of weird shit down there and it’s starting to overwhelm the staff we got working.”
“Have you called in the–”
“Two hours ago…and we’re still getting hit. It started about midnight last night and it’s just been snowballing down there since.”
“Damn, was it a full moon?” she asked humorously.
“No…at least I don’t think so,” he replied. “Just seems to be a major rash of general stupidity. We got cops crawling everywhere too…most of our over-run down there are wearing handcuffs or signing statements against people wearing handcuffs. I counted twelve police cars in the emergency parking when I came in an hour ago.”
“Okay…one of us will be down there in fifteen,” she agreed and did her best to smile…knowing full well it would end up being her that went down to help.
Dower thanked her and jumped to get back in the elevator before its doors closed again. He’d been holding them open the entire time and the alarm had started binging at him.
As she turned, she caught him ogling her just before the doors completely closed. It didn’t even disturb her anymore.
At thirty eight, she stood five foot ten without heels on and weighed just a bit more than a 140 pounds. And with a perfectly round ass and 32-D’s, she was still quite the looker. She was married and her husband Gary was a hottie himself…a personal trainer, to be precise. They had a daughter, Lisa Rose, who was f******n and they lived in the Philadelphia suburbs in a nice, if albeit, cookie-cutter, suburban style brick home. They both drove BMW’s and Lisa was a cheerleader. Life was good.
And then there was Shelly…
As Claudia made her way back towards the nurses’ station, she could see the other woman was still on the phone.
She cringed slightly in disgust as she noted how tight her friend’s scrubs were. At five foot five, the woman was short and squatty to begin with, and in the last year since her husband left her, she’d been steadily gaining more and more weight. From her nearly expert opinion, she guessed the little woman was probably pushing two fifty with belly rolls that pressed against the thick fabric of her top, pushing further out than her tits could muster. And the woman’s ass hung off on both sides of her rolling chair also straining at the cotton scrubs she wore. Her rear had taken on the brunt of her weight gain and there was just no hiding that behemoth monstrosity of an ass.
“Er-hrmmm,” she cleared her throat in hopes of getting Shelly’s attention.
“I gotta go,” she said and hung up. “What?” she asked with a slight tone of aggravation as she looked up at the much-too-hot-for-her-age Claudia.
“They’re having a field day downstairs…one of us has to go down and work the ER,” she announced, going through the motions but knowing how it would end up.
Shelly screwed her face up and sighed dramatically.
“Oh fuck…seriously? I hate the ER!”
“You hate nursing…that’s not saying a lot,” Claudia blurted, anger bubbling up from somewhere. “Sorry,” she quickly apologized. “You want me to go?”
“Well that’s a dumb question,” she popped back.
“Was that Lawrence?”
“Huh? Oh yeah…yeah,” Shelly nodded.
“So what’s up?” she asked, feeling as though she needed to be nice to make up for the sour comment she’d made a moment earlier.
“Oh it’s stupid…I went over to see Lawrence a few days ago and he’s all dogging on Beth about getting fat and I went off on him and told him to leave her alone. The girl’s twelve for crying out loud, ya’know? I mean don’t give her a fucking complex! And of course he goes and tells little-miss-perfect about it and she tells him I can’t come over no more because I’m trying to tell them how to raise their c***d. They’re not even married…it’s not his daughter…and technically he’s still my fucking husband…so where does she get off on that, huh?”
“Well she’s not your daughter either,” Claudia blurted and again she realized her tone was irritable. “Er-hrm, I mean you might have over-stepped there a little.”
Shelly looked at her oddly and she knew the woman had caught her attitude, but she didn’t respond to it.
“Well I’m fat…I know what it’s like, so I feel bad for her. She’s twelve so she’s probably got the hormones and shit going on…I mean she’s got these huge boobs already like out to here,” and she motioned to her own chest and then sighed. “Damn…hers are probably nearly as big as mine. What’s that say?”
“Either she’s got big ones, or you got small ones…take your pick,” she blurted with a snort of humor. Suddenly though, she realized what she’d said was hurtful and rude. “Just k**ding,” she added quickly, hoping to mitigate the cruelty of the remark.
“Wow, you’re just full of snark today, ain’t you?”
“Sorry…don’t know where it’s coming from,” she conceded. “Well I’m taking it down to the ER, so good luck with your morning. And if Mr. Tanner rolls by, bump a little of your big ass on him…it makes his day.”
“Right, right,” Shelly muttered as Claudia turned and headed for the elevators.

9:20 AM

Doctor Miles Fitzgerald very meticulously laid out his notes and materials for the day in preparation for his 9:30 lecture. Why he’d given up work at the CDC to teach, he still wondered.
He glanced over to the wall behind him directly beneath his long white-board. Large letters taped to the wall read, “BECAUSE GERMS AND POLITICIANS SUCK!”
“Oh yeah,” he smirked and recalled, once more, why he had gone into teaching. Fifteen years with the CDC had put him closer to deadly diseases than any man should ever be and after watching friends and colleagues die time after time in foreign countries fighting bugs that no one here cared about…well…it had gotten the better of him.
Six thousand people died in Zimbabwe…oh how sad that is…pass me another cheeseburger.
He truly needed to update his quote to include the media. He had a colleague at the university that claimed he had absolute proof the media was run by the government and had been since the 1960’s. He’d always figured him to be a bit off in the head…tinfoil hat types that so often college professors turned into after far too many years of teaching…but then again…sometimes he wondered.
His deep thoughts were slowly interrupted by the steady and mechanical puttering of a helicopter going over head.
“Third one in the last twenty minutes,” he acknowledged out loud, wondering what was the reason behind that. The university sat about sixty miles south of what he knew was a sealed military facility. “Sealed” had two meanings…one, it was sealed off from the public, meaning it was covert…secretive…not on the maps, and two, the military also used the term “sealed” to reference facilities where special f***es resided. This base in particular was burrowed into the side of a mountain and was used to house an Army biological weapons containment facility…which is how he knew of its existence. He could have gotten a teaching job at any number of more prestigious universities, but he’d pushed himself into Bridgestone intentionally so he could remain close to the facility known only as “BETA-2.”
When biological weapons were ascertained by the military in foreign countries, it would be taken to a secretive island base in the Indian Ocean. Once it was contained and identified, it would be shipped to BETA-2 for storage. And the base had another purpose other than just storage.
“When Plan-A fails…we go to Plan-B,” his military liaison had told him as he lead him on the tour of the base some eight years earlier. “This facility contains a full laboratory as well as underground fallout for military and civilian hazmat personnel. We can support containment and survival for up to 1,000 people for an extended period of time which is classified I’m afraid.”
“BETA” stood for “B”…Plan-B, to be precise. In the event an epidemic or war ravaged the United States, the BETA-2 facility could shut its doors and wait out whatever befell the rest of the world. During the same tour, the same officer had insinuated the military had built numerous such facilities throughout the country. So the number “2” probably meant this was the second in some unknown number of such bases. He knew, from his work with the military, that likely no one commander or politician knew of every facility as a security precaution. It was likely even the President didn’t even know about some of them.
As another helicopter flew over, he decided to open his laptop and hit the news sites. Not that he expected to find anything, but absolutely nothing was being reported. No outbreaks, no military confrontations, no riots…nothing at all. The predominant headlines had to do with celebrities and random political shit and the usual assortment of nonsense that bore no importance.
A few students were starting to filter in and he stood up to greet them. Before he could say a word though, he heard the screeching of tires from multiple vehicles just outside the building. Turning, he looked out the large windows of his lecture hall and saw four black SUVs with tinted windows parked in the grass. Out of them hurled four men each, some in suits, some in full black combat gear with assault rifles. The men with rifles immediately surrounded the building and began running students off as they set up a perimeter.
“Doctor Fitzgerald!” one of his students chirped as she pointed to the main doors at the back of the hall. Coming down the steps toward him were three men in black suits and wearing sunglasses despite the lack of sun. As they drew closer, he noted the presence of electronic earpieces, the telltale sign of secret service.
“May I ask what the fuck–”
“No you can’t,” the man in the front blurted, cutting him off and eyeing the few students around them suspiciously. He pulled a photo from his jacket and held it up, as if comparing it to Miles’ face. “Check his ID,” he said as he replaced the photo and motioned for the other two men to approach Miles.
He stepped around the corner of his desk and started to pull his wallet out, but was grabbed roughly by both of the men and shoved down, face-first onto his desk.
“My drivers license…fuck, man…I was just gonna pull my wallet out!” he shouted, realizing too late that his motion of reaching behind his back looked suspiciously like he was going for a gun. As he lay atop the desk, he felt one of the men yanking his wallet free.
“It’s him, we got him…clear the area, return to the vehicles,” the head dog said to no one as his two cronies lifted Miles from the desk and started dragging him forward toward the stairs leading up and out of the lecture hall.
“I’m guessing class is out for the day,” Miles tried to joke as they rammed him past the few early arriving students caught inside the hall.

9:40 AM

Veronica had been out of the shower for about two or three minutes…long enough to dry off and find herself gawking at herself in the mirror again…only this time naked.
“Damn my nipples are huge,” she said aloud to herself as she plucked at them in order to fully arouse them. She was both disgusted at them and intrigued. Always, they’d been overly sensitive and so even though they embarrassed her, they were also a source of sexual pleasure. She started tugging at them without really realizing what she was doing. The stimulation was stronger than usual but she never bothered to wonder why that was. A minute later, she had her right hand between her legs and was fingering herself while watching herself in the mirror. Within minutes, she was aching from a building orgasm that for some reason would not present itself. “Fuck,” she grumbled and finally gave up. Let down, she barged out of the bathroom into her bedroom still naked and with sticky inner thighs.
She dropped into the office chair in front of her computer and sighed.
Can’t get none from Martin…and apparently can’t even give myself none!
Frustrated she turned her attention to her computer and noticed the blank screen there that beckoned her to write.
Just then her cellphone buzzed beside the computer and she jumped. “Fuck!” Reaching out, she snagged it and answered it, already knowing who was calling from the digital ID scrolling across the smartphone’s screen.
“I’m working right now…I swear,” she blurted without giving her boss time to berate her.
“On what?” he asked with sarcasm oozing from his voice.
“On coming up with something to write about,” she replied, trying to make a joke that flopped horribly.
“Not funny,” he commented. “I got something and I want you to make some calls. Your husband still works for the Homeland, right?”
“Does he have access to any insider information?”
“Well I don’t know…he’s just in the Philadelphia region, he oversees interagency stuff…he’s an over-glorified desk jockey. We’ve been through this shit, man, he doesn’t really deal with anything of importance.”
“So he says,” her boss chopped back in, nearly cutting her off. “But I bet he knows people…and that means YOU know people…so I’m gonna give you something and it better get cooking, right?”
“What you got?” she inquired, actually curious even though she knew her husband would, as always, refuse to tell her anything she asked about work, and not just because it was probably a coworker he was banging. She honestly didn’t know what he did…only what he told her he did…much like he told her he wasn’t cheating on her, but she knew damned well he was. As far as she knew, her boss might be right.
“There is some crazy shit hitting the fan all down the East Coast. Sometime last night, it’s like people have started going bonkers, but there’s nothing in the news. Somehow the media is getting blacked-out on this shit, but I just got back from the hospital and the police station here in Atlanta and it’s crazy. Something’s going on and I would kindly appreciate it if we got to be the ones who break this story. And we’re on a time-table here, woman! As much shit is going on, they can’t keep it under the table long.”
“What kind of shit? What IS going on?” she asked. “I can’t get answers if I don’t know the questions.”
“Eight fifteen this morning, a kindergarten teacher here in Atlanta walks into her class and promptly takes off her clothes in front of her k**s and starts showing them how to masturbate properly. Eight forty, a commuter on the freeway stops dead in traffic and gets out with a pistol and starts capping anybody who passes him. That caused a pileup that left sixteen people dead and twenty injured and that’s not counting the gunshot victims. Eight fifty five, one of the Mayor’s assistances pulled his dick out during a morning city council meeting and started jerking of on a coworker. Same time across town, two cops got out of their cruiser and began systematically shooting gang members on the south side. Twenty four dead, including the two cops. Apparently the gang boys shot back. Last count I got from my friend at the coroner’s HQ here in Atlanta shows two hundred and five people dead since midnight from v******e related incidents. He also told me there were similar reports coming in from the burbs and other nearby towns. So I made some calls myself, and guess what…same shit going on in all the major cities up the coast all the way to Portland.”
“Biological?” she asked, still stunned at his accounts.
“Nobody knows…it’s random…just crazy bitches going postal…normal people though…no history of any priors. People do not snap in large groups like this. I’m guessing it’s a bio-weapon or something. Could be a 9-11 sort of thing and they don’t want to cause panic. Could be something we’ve cut loose…I don’t know. That’s why I’m calling you…YOU find out and call me back.”
With that said, he hung up without waiting for her to agree or even respond.
She immediately dialed her husband’s cellphone. It beeped and went directly to voice mail. She waited to leave a message, but it immediately beeped again and informed his box was full to please try her call again later.
“What the fuck?”
She dialed again, this time to his office phone and got a busy signal. “That’s no even possible…he’s got like five lines on that extension,” she grumbled and redialed. Again, she got the busy signal followed this time by an automated message that informed her all lines into that area were busy to try her call again later.
“It’s not the actual phones…it’s the lines going into that part of the city,” she muttered mostly to herself. “Okay that’s not weird at all,” she added. She rolled over to the bed and got the remote off the bedside table and flicked the flat-screen across the room on.
A scroll of all the various major news channels revealed nothing out of the ordinary but when she went to the local channels, the anchorwoman looked extremely uncomfortable and nervous as she reported the weather was going to be sunny and mild. Following her, the main anchor also seemed off his game.
Finally she jumped back to everyone’s favorite Atlanta based news network and found a blank screen put up by her cable company saying the feed for that channel was temporarily unavailable.
Just then her bedroom door burst open and her oldest boy, Hector barged in wearing nothing but a pair of white briefs.
“Well shit,” she grunted and yanked the blanket off of her bed to cover herself with. “You ever hear of knocking?” she bellowed at him. “Damn, what the hell do you want?”
“Sorry,” he muttered and tried to away but his eyes wandered back towards her as he continued to talk. “I need to pee and Ruben is taking a dooky in our bathroom,” he explained. “I gotta go bad,” he added with a look of nervousness to his face…but oddly she noticed he wasn’t dancing or shifting on his feet like he would have normally when he had to go badly.
“Fine, go!” she pointed at her bathroom.
She decided to wait till he was done and left before trying to get up from her chair and get dressed. So she sat quietly wrapped haphazardly in her comforter. After a few minutes, she heard nothing going on in the bathroom, and began to wonder what the fuck was up with her son.
She started to get up, but the blanket was a bit bulky to deal with so instead she pushed on the bed and rolled herself a few feet toward the bathroom.
Hector hadn’t bothered to shut the door and she could see him standing in front of the toilet.
“Well are you peeing or sightseeing?”
“Uhhh, I can’t…I don’t know,” he replied.
Concerned, she stood up and moved toward the bathroom door, dragging her blanket with her.
“Here, I’ll shut the door,” she said, thinking he was just having an odd moment.
“It’s not that,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at her. “I’ve had this weird feeling in it all morning and I keep thinking I need to pee, but I pee and it’s still there.”
“What do you mean weird feeling?” she asked and he turned around to face her, his underwear band pulled down and his penis dangling over the top.
She gasped and leaned against the doorframe for support. Her twelve year old’s penis was at least six inches long or more and probably an inch and half across in width. It hung half the distance to his knee. But that wasn’t the whole of it. She could tell beneath it, was a large bulge in his underwear that bespoke of even larger sexual parts that still remained concealed.
“See?” he asked as if she could have possibly missed it.
She knew his dick wasn’t that large normally. Not that she’d made a habit of checking out his equipment or package but she was certain beyond doubt that his penis had not been that large prior to this moment.
“Pull your underwear all the way down,” she told him and he nodded. With both hands, he scooted his tight underwear lower until the garment was around his knees. When he straightened up, she nearly gasped again as she realized his testicles were the size of eggs and his sack was tightly swollen and distended looking. His oddly long penis simply d****d atop the back of balls and dangled over the front edge of the massive sphere.
She’d read of elephantitis and various other diseases that could cause distended or enlarged testicles, but his penis was also bigger and she knew of nothing that would have caused that.
“You said you peed okay though?”
“Yeah…I mean like twice this morning, but when I woke up I had this between my legs and when I touch my sack it makes me feel all weird.”
Concerned, she drew closer to him, actually entering the bathroom with him. She knelt down on the cold tile floor and looked more closely at the boy’s genitals.
“Was your…your penis…this long before?” she asked.
“No,” he replied with one word. “It’s like twice as big this morning as it was yesterday.”
She stared at his bloated ball sack and an odd thought hit her. He was twelve…time for puberty to kick in. Was this just some sort of spontaneous hormone thing? She knew men developed larger penises and testicles during puberty, so was it possible that this was just a simple—
Noooo, she interrupted her own train of thought as she realized that was stupid, that there was no way his junk would grow that much in a single night. And his balls looked overly inflated, like a fleshy balloon with two distinctive egg-sized lumps within.
Regardless, she wasn’t going to be able to reach her husband, obviously, and the situation was rather urgent to an extent, so hesitantly she decided to dive off into the birds and bees zone all on her own.
“Does your penis ever get hard…stiff?”
“Umm,” he hummed and looked nervous. “Sometimes it does…like when I wake up in the morning, it’s stiff usually.”
“Was it stiff this morning?” she inquired.
“No ma’am…but when I got up, there was a big gooey, wet spot on my sheets.”
“You said your balls,” she cut herself off. “Your testicles sack there…it feels funny when you touch it? What did you mean by that?” Without waiting for a reply, she let go of her blanket with her right hand and reached out and cupped his sack. His balls literally filled her entire hand. She squeezed gently and the boy moaned.
“Shit, did I hurt you?” she asked.
“NO,” he blurted. “It’s not like it hurts…it feels weird, I don’t know…I can’t describe it.”
She furrowed her brows and looked back down.
Oh shit…I’m just sitting here cupping his balls, she thought herself, both annoyed and concerned at the same time. Can’t get a hold on Martin’s balls for five seconds, but here I am with my hand on a giant pair…and they belong to my son!
She decided to squeeze again to see what would happen and he moaned again, but it was a sexually sounded moan and it disturbed her.
“Does it feel good?” she asked?
“I don’t know,” he replied and glared oddly at her.
“Well if it doesn’t hurt, then why do you moan every time I squeeze them?”
“I don’t know…it just does,” he insisted.
She squeezed them again and as expected, Hector moaned, but this time she continued to squeeze and even fondled them a bit with her fingers as if to massage them and to her shock, semen began to ooze from the tip of his dangling penis.
She froze as massive goops of white jizz dribbled out and dropped down onto her wrist and forearm. She looked up and Hector had his head leaned back looking for all the world as if he was enjoying the situation…in a distinctly sexual manner.
Holee fuck…is he just backed up or something? He’s cumming with a limp dick! Weird sensation indeed! Dumb dork just needs to jerk off probably, she thought to herself but then somehow she pushed the thoughts aside. He couldn’t have gotten backed up like that, it didn’t make sense. Men produced sperm continually and she knew it was stored in the epididymis, the coily structure that was on the outside of each testicle…but if the sperm wasn’t used, it was supposed to be reabsorbed by the body. So had something gone wrong with his junk? Was his body not reabsorbing his sperm maybe?
“Do…do it again, Momma,” he said to her in a sort of odd whisper without opening his eyes and bothering to even look down at her.
She glanced down herself and stared at the thick white goop on her wrist that was now turning clear and rolling around the side of her forearm preparing to drip down to the tile.
She squeezed his balls again and this time fondled them roughly and in a manner that she recognized instantly as sexual. Part of her had done it without thinking and without pondering the consequences. But she was doing it now and for the life of her, she didn’t want to stop.
Semen began to ooze from his flaccid penis again and then as she squeezed and massaged more roughly, larger blobs began to pop, without warning, from the head of his dangling dick, splattering her forearm.
Hector had his head back and was wobbling, swaying back and forth as if he was weak and about to fall down. He was moaning so sexually it was beginning to turn her on, like listening to someone else having sex.
“Is…is this helping that weird feeling?” she asked, trying her best to stay focused and professional though knowing she wasn’t and that she’d gone way too damned far with him.
“Uh-uhh,” he groaned, “It’s worse…it’s worse,” he added but was totally absorbed in her actions and he certainly wasn’t telling her to stop.
“You want me to stop,” she asked and he shook his head side to side violently while biting his bottom lip.
Crap, I really think he’s backed up…he may have never jerked off before. He said he had a big cum puddle in his bed this morning. So he just needs to take care of business. Fuck, I feel so slutty and stupid. I’m sitting her playing with his balls like a five dollar whore!
She started to let go and pull her arm back, but then she didn’t. Instead, she worked his balls even harder and made him spurt a gob out that would have made Martin’s entire ejaculation look puny in comparison. Looking down, she noted her entire forearm was covered with gooey semen…and still his dick dripped.
His flaccid dick was jiggling side to side now as she ground his balls below it. With each slide and jostle it seemed to taunt her. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but her other hand held on to her blanket, the only thing covering her nakedness.
Before she realized what was happening, the blanket was sliding down to the floor and her other hand was wrapping around his dick.
She knew exactly what she was doing, but she also didn’t seem to care like she knew she should. She leaned forward and fed his limpness into her hot mouth and immediately began sucking it while continuing to work his distended testicles.
Semen was pouring into her mouth now and she was swallowing it as it did, letting the salty mess slide down her throat as she tongued the limp staff in hopes it would harden.
“Momma?” Hector’s raspy voice whispered down to her and she looked upward to see him staring at her with an expression of both shock and delight.
She didn’t answer him but continued to suck him off until all at once, she sensed his cock began to swell within her mouth and lips. She bobbed on it a bit longer and then pulled out and began to jerk him off with one hand while still grinding his testicles with the other.
His dick was oozing semen steadily and his six inch limpness had grown hard into what she had to guess was an eight or nine inch long man-rod that was probably two and a half inches thick if it were a millimeter.
She looked up at him and moaned herself for the first time and she knew whatever look was on her face must have told him she was no longer doing this just for him.
As if in response, his pelvis began tapping against her pumping hand and then without any preamble, he started gasping and almost growling and she knew what was about to happen. In response, she let go of his testicles and wrapped both hands around his meaty cock and began to pump feverishly until massive eruptions of cum exploded from the tip of his purplish cock head and rained down on her naked, fat torso.
In seconds, her torpedo shaped D-cups were coated in warm jizz and her nipples were begging to be tormented.
When he finally stopped erupting, she leaned back and smeared the enormous amount of cum all over her breasts and then started pulling viciously at her finger-tip sized nipples.
Then she had him by the waist and was tugging him down to his knees in front of her…her hands grasping higher then to his head and pulling him forward into her chest. It took him a few moments to figure out what she wanted but then he was sucking her titty like a pro, cum coating and all.
She literally pulled him over onto the floor beside the tub and was on top of him before she realized what was happening. It was as if she wasn’t in control of her own body as if someone was directing her by remote…as if she were merely riding along inside somebody else’s body with no ability to hinder or stop what was going on.
“Finger it like this,” she groaned to him as she hefted her thigh and plunged her own fingers deep into her wet orifice. And then she twisted and assumed a sixty-nine position on top of him, sucking his semi-limp cock back into her mouth.
Suddenly she felt his small hand probing at her pussy and realized to her delight, that he was about to try fingering her like she’d showed him.
“Oh shit, fuck me!” she blurted and then resumed sucking his cock wildly. “Just put your whole hand in me,” she called out after a few moments of him merely teasing her with his mere fingers.
“AHHHH!” she groaned and his dick popped from her lips. “No, no…no, no, no,” she all but shouted as she pulled herself upright atop of him. Quickly, she slide on down him till his dick, now hard again, was touching her crotch. “Momma needs cock, baby!” she rasped hungrily as she fed his erection into her gaping pussy.
Her torpedo tits were flopping wildly up and down before she knew what was happening. Her fat ass was probably squishing him beneath her and she didn’t care so long as his cock stayed hard…and hard it remained, until she came and drenched him with her own ejaculation.
Just then, as she stopped bouncing atop him, she gazed out the open bathroom door and realized it was not the only door left open. Standing out in the hall with his mouth agape, was her younger son, Ruben.
Suddenly she was horrified at what he must be seeing and then the full weight of what she’d done fell on her all at once. She lunged forward and slammed the bathroom door and then clutched madly at the discarded blanket on the floor beside her.
She lurched toward the door and twisted around to face her older son. Leaning back in the corner against the door and the cabinets, she pulled the blanket up around her and tried to bury herself in its thick folds.
Hector sat up and stared at her with an odd look of confusion and fear.
“What did we just do, Momma?” he asked.
“We had…we had sex,” she whispered but then realized that wasn’t quite right. “We just fucked, son,” she added, not caring about the vulgarity of the remark.
She looked down at his immense cock and balls and to her horror found that she felt more lust than shame. With her own desires and orgasm out of the way, she could think a bit more clearly, but no amount of post-sex bliss and clarity was going to erase the fact that her son was a veritable cum machine with a cock to die for.
“Go…go take a bath,” she told him. “Get out of here before I do that again,” she added, trying her best to suppress her dirty desire to suck his cock again.
He stood up and stepped towards her, his big, fat cock dangling ridiculously between his scrawny legs as he walked.
She moved to one side so he could open the door and exit, but before he stepped out, she reached out and grabbed his hand and turned him around.
“What Momma?”
Her hand abandoned his and reached around to grab his cock which she then proceeded to stroke.
“Next time you got an ache in your balls like that, you jerk off like this till you spurt hard…okay,” she told him. “It’s just pressure in your balls ‘cause you haven’t cum I guess,” she added as an afterthought.
“Okay, Momma,” he nodded, looking bewildered.
“Or,” she blurted a bit loudly as he tried to pull away.
“You can come back and let Momma fuck the shit out of it for you…whichever,” she said with a twisted grin. “Just don’t tell nobody, okay?”

11:05 AM

The lead SUV peeled off the highway and onto a small, single lane black top road that scurried up the side of a steep rocky incline that seemed far too steep to be a normal public use roadway. The engine in Miles’ SUV strained and he heard the transmission kick a little louder as the driver gunned up the incline. He turned and glanced behind them in time to see a large steel gate closing behind the last truck. Thick trees lined the steep road and also apparently concealed a hidden gate mechanism that shut the road off when not being used.
The truck bumped hard and quickly noted a trench in the road. Twisting again, he watched large steel or maybe concrete pylons rising out of the trench to block the road.
“We’re at BETA-2, aren’t we?” he asked the asshole sitting next to him, the one he’d aptly named, “Big dog,” in his head. The man didn’t respond…didn’t even look at him.
“I retain level 10 clearance, asshole…I’ve been here before…if you’d read my file, you’d know that,” he added and glared at the man.
“I don’t get paid to read, sir. I get paid to retrieve people from classrooms. Please remain quiet until we arrive at our destination. You will be fully briefed at that time.”

11:10 AM

“Jimmy, it’s Veronica,”
“Hey what’s up?”
“I gotta ask something and I know you’re probably not supposed to tell me…but what the fuck is going on?”
The police sergeant sighed audibly through the phone before answering.
“Off record?”
“I don’t even know you,” she replied.
“I don’t really know…it’s crazy, like suddenly people ain’t giving a shit about consequences,” he explained with an exasperated voice from the other end of the cell line.
“Jimmy…there’s a total news blackout going on and somebody needs to break this shit, so I need to know everything you know.”
“Call your husband…fucking FEMA and Homeland is all over this shit. We’re waiting on National Guard units right now downtown.”
“I tried…I couldn’t get a hold of him,” she asserted. “Tell me what’s going on…I don’t want to leave the apartment to find out for myself…I got the boys with me.”
“FUCK NO! You stay home! You got a gun? Get it and don’t let nobody in the house, you hear me? NOBODY!”
“Jimmy, you’re freaking me the fuck out. What’s going on, dammit!”
“I’m standing downtown right now…in the park…and there’s like fifty…maybe sixty bodies just lying here. Rich people…rich people had a gang fight…killed each other. It started over a parking space. Two of these cats are fucking corporate guys. One guy over his is dead with a pen shoved in his head. Other guy looks like somebody beat his face in with a briefcase. Chief says the mayor don’t know shit and the FEMA people we’ve got don’t seem to know either, but something is happening.”
“Has…has there been any…umm…weird sexual stuff? My boss said there was a kindergarten teacher in Atlanta this morning that stripped down and tried to get freaky with her students. Has…has there been anything like that?”
“Shit…don’t get me started…there’s more fucking and fighting going on than we can deal with and nobody wants to get on TV and say anything. Look, I gotta go…you stay home and you keep the boys with you…bye!”
Veronica laid her phone down and looked over at her flat-screen, shocked at what was on the video feed. Quickly, she grabbed at her remote and unmuted the sound.
“People are r****g and killing one another and this ass clown over here in the suit keeps telling me not to say anything well fuck you! Fuck you, motherfucker–”
An obvious bullet ripped through the anchor’s head and tossed him back against the faux wall behind his desk, bl**d splattering.
She gasped and then the “lost feed” warning popped up on the television screen. She quickly flipped to another news channel and within seconds, it too lost feed. Within five minutes, there were no news channels at all available. Ironically, standard channels continued to broadcast as if nothing were happening.
She quickly tried her husband again, but go not answer and then before she could lay the phone down, she heard what sounded like gunshots down on the street three floors below her apartment. Naked, she ran to the window and peered out and down in time to see cops and several soldiers swarming around a car in the street.
“HOLEE SHIT!” she blurted and ran back to her cell phone. Her husband’s line was still rerouting.
In desperation, she called her boss.
“Tell me you got something!” he demanded as soon as the line connected.
“FUCK YOU! Yeah I got something alright!”
“I don’t know…but…but I just fucked my twelve year old son in my bathroom and I don’t know why!”
“You what? Oh, Veronica…are you fucking with me?”
“NOOO! I called a cop source of mine…he told me people all over the city are going crazy…r****g and killing one another. I just saw a bunch of cops and soldiers shoot somebody in a car on the street beneath my apartment.”
“It’s gotta be biological…” her boss muttered.
“Listen to me…my son…Hector…he woke up this morning with a dick the size of my arm and balls the size of my fist…and I just…I just…and you know why I’m telling you this…’cause I don’t care! And I don’t know why I don’t care! This ain’t right, man!”
It was then that she realized she was talking to dead air. Had he freaked out and hung up on her?
She tried to dial him back only to get the annoying, “All circuits are busy,” message. Two minutes after that, the phone stopped getting a signal altogether.

11:32 AM

Dr. Miles Fitzgerald stepped into the room and heard the heavy metal door behind him clang shut. One other person occupied the office with him.
Colonel Alan Sparks, the epitome of military officers, stood up and motioned for him to move forward and take a seat. He’d known the man as the executive commander of BETA-2 from years before when he’d toured it. Obviously the man was still in charge.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Sorry for the rapid extraction, Doctor, but it was imperative to get you to a secure zone as quickly as possible.”
“An outbreak or is a meteor heading for us?”
“A meteor I could live with,” he replied though there was no tone or indication of humor to his response.
“Outbreak then…so why me? I mean I know I’m close and that was by intent, but why isn’t the CDC–”
“We think Atlanta may have been the start point,” he asserted, cutting him off. “We can’t identify the pathogen and the symptoms are not visibly identifiable. We don’t know who’s been afflicted and who hasn’t. The SECDEF has ordered us into lockdown and I was damned if I was shutting the doors without somebody in here who could help us deal with it.”
“BETA-2 is intended to lock down and survive, not fight nor find a cure, Colonel. So you snatched me just as a safety precaution in case it doesn’t blow over?”
“Damn straight I did, but I had clearance to do so. Atlanta is falling apart…the CDC itself is all but down. The President is on AF-1 headed for high ground and he’s given the order to nuke Atlanta to prevent whatever other shit they’ve got in there from getting loose.”
“The center has its own system for safe-guarding–”
“The staff has been compromised…we can’t be sure the center hasn’t been compromised as well. He’s not taking chances. There’s a Special f***es detachment en route as we speak with a thermonuclear backpack destined for the downtown.”
“Holee Hell,” Miles blurted. “What the fuck is it? I mean what the shit is it doing?”
“Last coherent word we got out of Atlanta this morning was that something was spreading and it’s apparently airborne. It’s causing people to act without concern for consequences. Total anarchy. **** and murder everywhere…some sick fucking shit. I’ve seen feeds from some of the bigger cities this morning. It’s like a fucking nightmare scenario. I saw shit I can’t wipe from my fucking brain. News crews were filming it all and not caring what they filmed.”
“I haven’t seen anything–”
“And you won’t. You had level 10 clearance, yes?”
“It’s twenty now,” the Colonel stated matter-of-factly. “Swear your allegiance to the United States.”
“I swear my allegiance to the United States of America,” he recited as if he were taking some definitive, life altering oath.
“The Pentagon possesses a computer system which I will not name, as that remains above your security level. That computer is the largest and most powerful system the world has ever known and it’s tied into every information system on the planet. It monitors everyone everywhere at all times. The purpose of the system was to analyze everything…and provide warnings to us when the need arose. At approximately 1:15 am last night, that computer called me and every major operations commander on the planet and informed us the shit was about to hit the fan. By two, we were already rolling on it, but the system was telling us that we had no hope of stopping it.”
“What does our magical computer friend think is happening?”
“She says someone just proverbially nuked us with a biological weapon of some nature. Not that this should surprise us, but what DID shock our asses, was that every nation on the globe has also been hit. It’s global. It began shortly around Midnight Eastern standard time. And within twelve hours, we’ve nearly lost the whole East Coast.”
“I’m assuming this computer system has been editing everything we’re seeing on the TV and internet?”
“Yes. Crisis control. The cities seem to be the strike points. Announce a contagion, and what happens? The city slickers head for the hills and contaminate them as well. We may have to hit every major city to stop it.”
“You said the afflicted are acting without forethought or afterthought…that…that sounds suspiciously like a virus that’s affecting the brain,” Miles asserted, more or less thinking out loud.
“Well ya’don’t fucking say,” the Colonel blurted.
“Well that’s just a starting point. A lot of viruses affect the brain. Hell we’ve got some that can even take control of the infected person’s motor skills. There’s even one that ants get that turns them into little zombie–”
“Don’t even use the “z” word around me, man!”
Miles snorted and suppressed his urge to chuckle.
“The disease isn’t killing them…it’s making them kill each other, but that’s not all it’s doing.”
“What?” Miles asked, not sure he wanted an answer.
“We’re getting some odd reports from hospitals that pubescent c***dren are coming in with excessively large genitals and breasts…among other weird shit.”
“Excessively large—okay, define that for me in more specific terms.” Miles sat up straight and found that he was suddenly fascinated with this virus.
“CDC was of no use. By the time we got the reports sorted, Atlanta was already off the grid. We’ve also lost New York, Richmond, Albany, Providence, and we’re near losing Philadelphia. Reports of initial outbreaks are coming out of Charlotte and also Pittsburgh.”
“Fuck…it’s moving west and in less than 12 hours…what’s that…like a hundred miles in 12 hours?”
“It’ll take the whole country at that speed within about 12 days if my math is half right,” the Colonel stated.
“It’s not just the math, Colonel…diseases do not act on timelines or set speeds…a single carrier can get to San Francisco in a matter of hours and thus envelope that region twelve days ahead of your timeline. You can put numbers on it, but I suspect we’ve got far less than a week before we’re overrun completely. Now my next question is what are we doing about it?”
“Supercomputer…she says we’re fucked. The President has ordered lock-down to try and survive it. If the smoke clears, we come out and pick up the pieces.”
“They’re just giving up based on the advice of a fucking computer?”
“You got a better plan? It’s airborne, Miles… quarantine isn’t going to stop it.”
“I can’t fathom an airborne pathogen that potent. Do you realize the amount of saturation required to do that? Even if it’s just one city that’s dosed…the pathogen would require…shit!”
“It’s in the water,” Miles erupted and jumped from his seat. “Dumped into the water treatment facilities, it would likely hit the entire populace all at once…but only select individuals exposed to it. Drinking, bathing…any of which could hit them with it. Then once it settles into the host, it’s got to go mobile to have any further affect.”
“Airborne…so it’s mutating?”
“Do you realize how often we leave our bodily fluids on surfaces? It’s not airborne, Colonel…it’s waterborne and it’s spreading through liquids. Quarantine could work to slow it down. But to hit every city at once…Colonel, it’s a weapon of some sort. Someone’s weaponized it.”
“Okay, we’re under attack, but by who? Every country on the planet – do you have any clue how hard it would be to get something into the water supply of the entire world at one definitive moment like that?”
“Viruses contain genes and genetic strands, Colonel and like with humans, certain alterations can be made to their code…they can be programmed. It would require an extremely high level of expertise, but a virus could be activated by remote. And don’t look startled…I know people at DARPA and other divisions. Slowly infuse a programmed virus into the water supply…and then trigger it when you’re ready.”
“Trigger would require chemical agents or other biological delivery systems…and that’s not feasible,” the officer argued.
“Not necessarily.”
“I’ve read research regarding the connectivity of organics and inorganics…essentially living circuits. The human body and brain will respond to certain electrical stimuli…so too, will viruses. Some group capable of making a bug like this and then inserting it worldwide, might also have the ability to trigger it using a broadcast signal. Call your Pentagon buddies…tell them to look for a signal that may have been broadcast within the last forty eight hours…anything weird and powerful.”
“That would require satellites…only three of us with that ability…and the Chinese and the Russians are both locking down too.”
“Who said it had to be terrestrial enemies, Colonel?”
“What the fuck are you insinuating–”
“Exactly that. I watched a documentary a few years back where they brought in various experts from the military and science and asked them to lay out the probabilities for an alien invasion.”
“Aliens? I’d almost prefer zombies.”
“The consensus, Colonel, was that no massive armada of city destroying ships would descend from the clouds. Not when a more advanced race could simply toss in a bug bomb and wait till the smoke cleared. Should they want our world, we, a lesser and undoubtedly vicious and unwanted pest society would have to be dealt with. What do you do when bugs infest your new house? You smoke bomb it. The consensus was that a hostile alien f***e would likely utilize a biological agent against us inserted in such a fashion that we would die off rapidly.”
“But we’re not dying…we’re going bananas, Doctor. I mean if you want to cause havoc, this is your d**g, but if you just want to wipe us out, it’s not doing such a hot job.”
“Humans possess a more violent capability than any other creature on this planet that has a brain, Colonel. Say our foes intend to use that against us. A generalized weapon wouldn’t just kill us…it’d kill every mammal on the planet. Maybe that’s not what they want. Maybe they just want us to kill ourselves. And if we’re doing it one at a time, we’ll live our cities and infrastructure intact for the most part.”
“Not if the politicians go crazy and start pushing buttons,” the Colonel countered.
“Test it,” Miles suggested. “Try to launch an active nuke and see what happens. If it fails, then you know they’re monitoring us and making sure we can’t damage the planet while the disease runs its course. I suggest a real target…include some command chatter about blaming whoever the target is for the outbreak…make it look real or otherwise they won’t fall for it.”
“Okay…say I buy that…are you insinuating that this potential alien aggressor has the capacity to monitor us that closely?”
“WE monitor us that closely…imagine what we’ll be able to do in two or three hundred more years of development, Colonel? Imagine your supercomputer times a hundred.”
“She’s right…we’re just fucked, aren’t we?”
Miles sighed.

To be continued…

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