Ad Nauseam - By C. W. LaSart Page 0,60
reached out a hand and could barely see it before her face. Time to get out.
As Stella sat up on the steps, a strange sensation made her pause. A tickling started at her hip, before slowly spreading up her side to her breast, as if someone were lightly running their fingertip across her bare flesh. Goosebumps rose along her body as a wave of heat followed the path to her nipple, pleasure exploding from its peak to wash over her.
She laid back slightly, the pleasant feeling causing her to moan. There had been no one since Michael’s death, no lovers beside her own infrequent masturbation, and the unexpected rush paralyzed her with pleasure. It spread to the other breast and she nearly cried out from the intensity. Twin lovers suckled her breasts, though no one shared the pool with her and her hands floated by her sides. The tickling wove from her hip around her thigh, where it traced its way across her clit and into her vagina. She gasped and let her thighs fall open, arching her back and thrusting her pelvis upward as the first ripples of orgasm flowed through her body.
Her breasts throbbing with pleasure and her pelvis awash in ecstasy as wave after wave of climax rocked her body, Stella whimpered, all thoughts of the darkness and leaving the pool lost in a haze of sexual splendor. The lights came back on, but she didn’t notice, shuddering in the water as her phantom lover worked his magic on her senses, making her cry out her joy. The sensations battered her until she feared she may lose consciousness, drowning in her own pool to be found blue and lifeless in the morning when Andrea came for their shopping spree.
Reluctantly opening her eyes, bewildered by the power of her arousal, Stella glanced down at her body where it floated in the water, and a scream bubbled out of her throat. Something small and strange had attached itself to her tattoo, a jelly-fish like creature with short tentacles and a translucent body. She flicked at it with her hand, but it clung to the flesh, unwilling to be dislodged.
With a cry that was part terror and part revulsion, she squeezed its soft body, gagging as it let go with the sound of a suction cup peeled off glass. She threw it over the edge of the pool, her eyes wide in shock as she looked at what the awful parasite had done to her body. Her legs numb as orgasms continued to rip through her, she crawled up the steps and got to her feet, making her way unsteadily into the house and to the bedroom. Standing before the mirror, hands braced against the wall, her legs threatened to give out as yet another climax rocked her body. Her breasts still throbbed with sensation, though it now bordered on pain.
Stella began to cry as she gazed at her reflection in disbelief. She took one hand off the wall and ran it over her flesh, sobbing as she traced the lines of the tattoo.
Thorny vines that had once encircled the small rose bud on her hip, now streaked up her torso, encircling both her breasts and darkening her nipples. Her torso resembled a demented puzzle, thorny lines covering it in crazy jags. The vines also trailed over hip and across the shaven mound of her sex, disappearing in the cleft.
She bent her knees slightly and spread the fleshy lips apart, crying out when she saw the tattooed vines disappearing into her vagina. Her slick flesh visibly rippled with the force of the pleasure/pain that gripped her pelvis. No, no, no. It can’t be! What the hell is going on? This can’t be happening to me!
Movement on her chest caught Stella’s attention, and she looked up at her reflection, her eyes wide in her pale face as she watched the vines grow, dark ink sliding under the skin, across her chest and up to her neck. Crazy. I’m going crazy! Large buds began to form on either side of her throat. Her legs gave out as orgasms continued to shake her, now more painful than pleasant. Dropping to her knees, she pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror, watching as the buds continued to grow, starting to bloom on her skin.
An unwanted vision rose in her head. Andrea finds her dead on the bathroom floor and shakes her head, a voodoo priest replete with painted skull face and