Siren Song Ch. 03

"Gods Barbara —!" moaned Dave with his eyes rolled back and his face raised to the ceiling, and so he missed the strange and spectacular sight of his wife's stretched throat that pulsed around the throbbing cock filling her from her lips to just beneath her collarbones.

"Mmmngnnn —," she groaned, and the vibrating and tickling spread from her throat up and down along Dave's swollen rod. His breathing came faster. Every tightening gulp of Barbara became a milking motion that threatened to drag him across the threshold.

She released him inch by inch, moving her head back and forth, with the releasing strokes ending just a bit farther each time. Her lips neared the thin sensitive band of skin under his glans. David groaned, moments from erupting. Barbara immediately opened her mouth wide and let him out without a further brush.

"No, not yet," she whispered. David forced his eyes open. He staggered backwards against the hut's wall, staring at what Barbara's lips had unleashed from his loins.

"The gods—," he stammered, his lust colliding with disbelief. "What have you done?"

David's cock now stretched beyond the already oversized length he had been gifted with. At least two inches more had come out of his wife's mouth than what they both knew so very well by now. The pole of throbbing flesh stood like a lower arm with swollen root-like veins spreading under the glistening skin.

"Mmmh—mh—mh—mmmmhh!" sang Barbara, her eyes firmly locked on the bobbing head. Pre-cum wormed down from the gaping hole pulled wide by the straining skin of the glans. David trembled and slowly slid down the wall, both hands grabbing the root of the trunk projecting from his hips. His gasps became spasmodic as more blood streamed from his body into his raging erection.

"Dizzy —," he managed, all the while feeling nothing but cock. Barbara was by his side in a heartbeat.

Feed him. Weak. Need him strong! Feed him! whispered a voice in the back of her head. She cast aside her own gown, knelt down and bedded David's upper body on her thighs. Her heavy breasts dangled just above his pale, sweaty face. David's dry lips found her loaded, swollen teat.

Slllrrp —

"Unnngh—!"

Barbara rocked both their bodies gently, eyes closed, her face towards the ceiling, cradling her husband's head to her breasts as she let down. Less than an arm's length away on the table, the blue stone in the pendant sparkled stronger as Barbara's rich milk filled David's stomach.

~

David woke and opened his eyes against a warm, semi-firm pillow over his head. Sweet milk lingered in his mouth, and he recognized the distinct taste.

"Barbara?" he mumbled into the soft flesh. The silky pressure on his face was lifted. Her nipple, huge and coated in wetness like the palm-sized areola around it, dangled inches away. He raised his hands and adored the womanly bell of milk, stroking it gently.

"Oh Barbara, you're the most lovely wife anybody could hope for," he gushed before he pulled the breast in again and placed a ring of kisses around the crinkled nipple. He felt slightly light-headed but refreshed and ready for anything.

"Mmmmh," she groaned, stroking his limp penis. It swelled in her grip and easily outgrew her hand's clutch. "You're better now?" Her question came with a worried air David couldn't quite understand. His hands ran down her concave waist and out across her juicy buttocks.

"The voyage must've worn me out a bit, but after your delicious milk I'm feeling better than ever! Oh just you wait, love, this time it won't be me giving in first," he replied, wrapping his other arm around her back and pulling her down. Her breasts enveloped his face, and he kept on squeezing kisses into the warm crevice. Each kiss sent a twitch of swelling and thickening into his crotch. "Mmmwa! I'll ride you until you're splayed out like a beached octopus, my greedy limpet!"

David reached for his rod and felt the barely contained pressure and hardness in his fist. He hesitated but for a moment before he chuckled, "Look here, Barbara! Big Dave's giving it his all, just for you! What are we going to do about this poor straining piece of meat? Do you think you can take all of that?"

"I'll never stop trying," she laughed relievedly and raunchily, crawling over him. Barbara spread her legs, leaning back with her buttocks on his knees. Her one hand's fingers split her reddened outer pads. The gods, he's mighty big now, for sure! She bent forward and closed her fingers around the pole just behind the glans. David pushed his thighs up and jiggled her just a little closer. Her knees slid across the floor as she thrust her hips forward and shortened the distance between her crotch and the blunt spearhead in her hand. She needed to push quite hard to bend it towards the right angle.

"Nnngh! Gently, Barb, it's so hard, don't break it!"

"Hahhh!" she gasped as her wrinkly rosette spread on the purple-glowing cone. "Oh yes! Oh yes!"

She tensed her thighs and lifted her buttocks off David's legs. The distance grew shorter, and the glans strained in, stretching her moist petals wide around its increased girth.

"Hnnngghh!"

"Barbara —"

Sglorsh.

Thick and viscid was the discharge that seeped from Barbara's swollen inner lips. The copious lube clung to the swollen glans and eased the conquering first penetration by David's new cock.

"Fine. I'm fine," she panted.

"Barbara, your womb —"

"Womb — is fine — too —" Her mutterings were almost inaudible under her throaty gasps. She leaned forward. Her breasts' sweaty skin slipped over her ribs as they move from hanging outwards to dangling forward, and as she sank closer to her husband, she forced another couple of inches of Big Dave inside, reaming her soaked tunnel wider and deeper.

"Clutch of the gods," he moaned. "So — good! But I'm so big — I can see it — filling you!"

Panting and swaying, Barbara craned her neck and pulled sideways at her breasts to get a glimpse beyond the rounded twin cones of her dangling mammaries. David was right. Down at her mound of venus, her engorged lust hood grew out of a curly bush centered on a trunk bulging under her skin. Thick muscle ribs the diameter of her pinky laid wrapped like rings around David's colossal cock inside her. Even the ridge behind the glans showed through the adapting tube. Snake-like constrictions crawled along the sheath that had hidden under Barbara's midriff. The top of the elongated bulge just barely lifted her navel. The thought of strange drowned in oh the gods that's so good and so massive!

"Well," she moaned, "you've never been so big before! Bad husband, holding out on your wife! Could've seen me bloating with your cock for weeks, y'know?"

"Unngh! Bad wife, could've given me more of your delicious cock-growing milk before!" he answered through clenched teeth, forcing another half-inch into the tight clutch of her sheath.

Barbara's fingers traced the edge of the distended muscle up to her navel. She felt its ripped structure well beyond that point, not showing through her skin in its unfilled shape but definitely there to her fingertips. It offered capacity at least to her sternum. She compared the empty length of her to the rod of him still remaining outside. Barbara smiled.

"Not filling enough yet," she groaned and began thrusting her hips again, consuming inch upon inch.

~

"Filling enough now?" moaned David as finally, Barbara's cherry laid trapped in the fold of his pubes and the deepest root of his herculean cock. There was not another fraction of an inch he could get deeper into her. David felt the milking motions of her sheath, its throbbing, dilated shape squeezing Barbara's flushed sweaty skin against his midriff. Their bodies were one, wrapped in each other's arms, a single creature forged of carnal frenzy and delights beyond each of their imaginations.

Barbara panted rapidly and struggled to get the ancient prayer of "oh the gods — oh the gods — oh the gods" from her throat. The thing inside her — David inside her, bigger than ever, filling her new womb, filling her every inch —

"M—make m—me c—come!" she begged, writhing in his embrace. "Can't — take it — aaaaah!—nnny longer — need — release!"

He kissed his way along her neck and across her cheeks until their lips locked.

"Mmmggh!" she groaned, still clawing at the mountain ridge of her climax. Why can't I come! I — these delights — the fire! Can't stand it anymore! She wrapped her arms tighter around her husband. His fingers left her back and stroked along her shoulders. Struggling in her firm embrace, he dug his hands around her confined breasts and squeezed them outwards. Her nipples popped free.

David pinched and rolled the hard thimbles between thumbs and forefingers. Barbara's breath stopped. Trembling, she became ramrod stiff. The muscular sheath relaxed all the way for the briefest moment.

It clenched down hard on the root of David's cock, forbidding any retreat. Waves of contraction started racing up along its length, milking him forcefully. Dave's balls spat fire into his ducts. His boiling seed was sucked out even against the stranglehold on the base of his rod. Just before he lost himself in the explosion, he saw Barbara's eyes as they rolled back. An unearthly smile spread her mouth.

~

Chapter 12: Barbara's Choice

~

Days later.

~

"Maybe I shouldn't sail to the city, what with the state you're in," Dave suggested.

Barbara stopped handing him baskets into the boat. "Uh—huh, yes, the state I'm in. Last night you couldn't stop suckling the state of me from my tits. No, Dave. I'm good. Better than ever! Look at me!"

She straightened, her curvaceous body still stark naked and glowing after her brisk morning swim. Wetness darkened her blond hair that clung to her back and shoulders. The few remaining droplets on her toned skin sparkled in the morning sun as she turned on the spot and put her hands akimbo, leaving her full, firm chest time and room to calm its swinging by itself. Looking up from his swaying boat at the goddess proudly towering above him on the pier, Dave let out a whistle.

"The gods, Barbara! I'll say it again! Your chest — your waist — your ass — your legs!"

"Yes, Dave, and finally I know it, that's the most important thing. Really, I'm fine." Barbara ran her fingers from her hips over her buttocks and back to the front. "Mmmh, I love my body. Even if I gain another inch while you're away, I promise you won't find me bawling my eyes out and cowering in some corner anymore. Not after you've shown me time and again how much you adore the new me."

"Still, dear, I'd feel so much better if you'd be coming with me. Just this once."

"Goodness, Dave!" laughed Barbara as she sat down on the warm wood of the pier and let her legs dangle. "There are so many things that need fixing around the hut. Y'know the only time anything gets done anymore is when we're far enough apart, my stallion."

"It's not exactly my fault, my greedy broodmare," he sighed with a smile and lowered his head.

"You're no good at resisting either," she shot back, raised a leg and tapped her toes playfully against his lower ribs. "Promise you won't ogle any of those city dames, husband?"

"Oh, as if those uptight broads would know what to do with Big Dave anyway," he smirked. "Just need to keep him tied up well behind my belt, the old snake's become quite lively from your milk and all the squeezing your womb likes to do."

She snickered as she glanced at David's crotch. His tunic concealed the massive delights underneath quite well. "Lucky you, having married the one girl who knows how to treat him right, eh? So do your business and hurry on home again! Who knows, I might stumble upon the pendant, and just imagine how big I'd end up then."

David's voice lost all of its playfulness. "Barbara, don't even joke about that. I thought we'd agreed on never mentioning it again. It's gone, and that's that."

"Oh come now, Dave. I promised I won't wear it again, and now that you've hidden it, what's the harm in a little joking? You could've thrown it out into the ocean somewhere deep, if it bothers you so much."

"Yes, and suppose some evil wizard shows up and demands it back? Those folks don't take 'no' for an answer, from what I've heard. No, it's better to have it in a place where we can get our hands on it, if need be."

"Pshaw, wizards and witches. Like that one girl you told me about? Doesn't sound like it's worth worrying about," Barbara snickered. "Maybe she was just a," Barbara wiggled her shoulders and caused her breasts to swing, "dancer, y'know? Just a busybody out to impress people by playing the big bad witch."

~

Barbara waved after him until the tiny sail had disappeared from sight. She turned her head and looked up at the path to their hut. Her lips curled from her gnashed teeth.

Market day's about to begin. And I'm not going to give Menena the pleasure of me hiding from her stupid marketplace any more.

I'll sort things out with her, once and for all! I've been her maid for years, and we always got along. That's got to count for something. I won't let this — this strange hazing go on, not for the life of me! I was scared when I looked a twig, but not anymore!

Her face relaxed, she raised her eyebrows and smiled wearily. No, no more excuses.

She could hear Dave's voice again, the very words he'd said after she suggested it the last time: "Love, are you sure this is a good idea? Y'know, old wounds, fury like a woman scorned, and all that —"

"I really, really hope so," Barbara sighed.

She pushed herself off the trunk that marked the end of the pier, straightened and began the ascent.

~

Chapter 13: Shop of Doom

~

"I'm sorry, I'm all out," Barbara explained for the umpteenth time. The thwarted client looked down, dragged his feet and slowly wandered off. She had noticed his incredulous stare at the regions beneath her face and neck very well. Very well happened to be the way that her dress showed off her newly gained assets, too. The durable linen had once covered any trace of skin above her knees and below her neck, but when Barbara had sewn it, she'd been quite a few sizes smaller in the chest. Even with the seams patched and widened after Leta's suggestion, the top hooks and strings gaped open now and were only able to frame the tightly packed pair of milk melons and the deep cleavage between them. Any sharp motion could be the straining cloth's last.

She folded up and stowed the wobbly contraption that held the cart in place and doubled as a chair. The sun had passed through midday and stood near two in the afternoon. Its light, reflecting off the lime wash of the narrow side street's walls, had a golden hue to it. The market would go on for another two hours, but with nothing left to sell, Barbara packed up early and headed out the gate.

~

Barbara dragged her empty cart along the road for maybe five minutes. As soon as she was in the first patch of trees and out of sight of the town, she took a sharp turn into the brushwood and hid the cart. Stepping back onto the dirt track and walking again towards the cluster of buildings, her gait had a newfound determination to it.

~

Her elevated feelings didn't last long. By the time she reached the first houses again, Barbara no longer walked down the middle of the road but sidled nervously. Now she crouched behind the last corner leading to the marketplace. Her heart thumped in her throat.

Here goes nothing.

Barbara sighed and straightened. As her trembling hands smoothed at a few wrinkles on her skirt, her gaze couldn't escape the very special gravity of her protruding chest.

So much skin showing! Gods, if I walk like that across the market — I know these chin-waggers, used to be one myself —

She pulled the red bandanna from her golden mane, unfolded the cloth and fashioned a makeshift hood from it that covered all of her hair and shoulders and hung low enough to conceal her breasts' overwhelming bulge as long as she kept her elbows angled and her hands on the tails level with her chest. As she lowered her face, she noticed consciously that her shins were covered in dust and her bare feet had spots of dirt on them. The frayed rim of her gown reminded her about her clothes' overall worn appearance, and that didn't help at all.

I was so confident! Oh just look at yourself now, Barb —

No! One moment longer, I turn and run! I won't run! No more!

She stepped around the corner. Barbara had been here countless times before, back in the days when things were better and Menena was still a strict but fair mistress to her young housemaid. She had strolled across the market week after week, taking the first and best picks for her mistress. Yet somehow, the stretch of cobblestones leading up to the mayor's house and general store seemed so much longer today. Barbara prodded herself into action and took a first step.

She nodded and greeted shyly to the market women as she passed their booths. The looks she earned were indifferent at best, openly hostile at worst. Halfway across the expanse, Barbara lowered her head even more and ceased looking to make eye contact. She had grown up here, she knew everyone around here, and yet now whispers flew across her wake. She couldn't plug her ears to them, and in her mind, they turned into the growls and snarls of a hungry pack of she-wolves.

Look at her. Look at that brazen little hussy! ... all the men ran to her cart today! ... flaxen-haired trollop! ... did you hear whom she calls her husband? ... homewrecker ... how dare she show herself here ... parading those melons like that ... a shame! ... no wonder she's in Menena's bad books ... there would've been blood, I tell you, I would've not only kicked her out if she'd set her eyes on my man ...

Barbara had to will herself into keeping her stride even, to keep on walking — no running! Don't run! — towards the building looming ahead. She felt her resolve dwindling, and prayed she'd be at the door before it had all but petered out.

I never did anything to anyone, she wailed inwardly. Oh please, gods, why me? Why me?!

An eternity had passed when finally her fingers closed around the handle. She took a couple of deep breaths.

~

The metal bars over the frame jingled as Barbara pushed the door open just wide enough to sneak in sideways. She looked around. The shop hadn't changed much since she last set foot in here, almost a year ago.

"Don't put that there, Anton! Take it over to the other side, there's too much stuffed into that rack already." Menena's voice clearly hadn't lost the ability to be as gentle and caring as an arrow to the knee. She either hadn't noticed the new arrival or decided that a customer couldn't be as important as making sure things were stowed the right way — which of course meant her way. Her being usually right didn't make it easier for the scrawny young man who had replaced Barbara. He struggled with a heavy, square basket, trying to lift it to the top of a shelf by the far wall.

Menena's thick, slightly curly black hair hid her face. She half leaned, half sat behind the counter and was busy keeping her books and records current. Every now and then, her quill's scraping stopped. Ding, went the small inkhorn as the tip struck the rim.