I clenched, gasped, moaned.Came, spurting lubricant.I sat there, panting. My legs and groin were utterly drenched. Myfingers were cramping. Even my tits, which were certainly larger now,seemed to be leaking a tiny bit of clear fluid. I was exhausted, wet,and deeply ashamed of what I'd done.And I was still horny. Still needed something.-----Shame was not enough to stop what followed. For days, with nothing toaccompany me but hunger and horniness, I hunted, ate, slept, and fuckedmyself. I never quite got used to the sensations, the noises I made, theway I looked when I examined myself after a fresh friggin...not leastbecause it was changing. My breasts were swelling. My skin, flushing.Some hormonal thing, I thought, as my increasingly engorged nipplesbegan once more to leak clear fluid.Izzy was in my thoughts often, and not just when I was touching myself.We'd started dating a year ago, and been pretty much inseparable since.I missed her. To think about her this way, in this body...I. Unable to resist, Laura parted her legs. A luxurious full-handed rub, up and down, encouraged the craving instead of satisfaction. Her lip quivered; her jaw dropped. Despite the heat, her nipples became hard and erect. She could resist, but why? A glance toward the door was fruitless—the heavy fog cloaked everything, including her. With abandon, she untucked the top of her towel, letting it fall to her thighs. Breasts bare, and hand cupping her quim, she drifted into relaxation and arousal.Head back, Laura slipped her middle finger between her folds and sighed. Her release valve pushed, life's strains vanished. Right then Laura knew she could not stop.Scooching forward on the bench, she spread her knees and slid her finger in deeper. In a bit, out a bit, her middle knuckle was momentarily satisfying, like the first bite of an ice cream sundae. Her hand in place, she rubbed her thickening button with the very tip of her thumb. The tingle arced and exploded like a starburst on the 4th.
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