GITJ Post 306: The Pink Wave, p4

I, uh, know I shouldn’t complain. I’d been surrounded by beautiful girls all night, fawned over at the bar. I’d been nearly stripped but rescued and taken away by the tallest, most gorgeous of them all, who just happened to be my girlfriend, swept into her friend’s car where she passionately made out with me in the back seat like a woman possessed while they drove me home. I survived with my tonsils still intact to find myself being carried like a babe-in-arms up to my apartment where she plopped me on the couch and immediately turned on the television. Tough, right? I know. You’d probably kill to be in my size-6 loafers. Then why did I feel so uneasy?

“Thank you, America! Thank you for electing me as the next President of your United States! Women - today is our day! Finally Finally! Finally!!”

“Omigod I feel like I’m going to bust out of my jeans…” Melissa said offhandedly as the blond woman behind the podium spoke to the nation. I watched Melissa  pulling her Levis down her curvy hips, drunkenly wiggling herself out and dropping pants to her feet. She’d been barefoot, having left her apparently too-tight boots in Shanette’s car, and now she was kicking her jeans away. It was dark in my apartment, the only light in the room coming from the TV, and I couldn’t see where they landed but I think I heard some plates clatter. 

In an instant she was on me, swinging a huge, bare leg over me and straddling my lap, leaning in to explore my throat again with her strong, aggressive tongue. My whole body stiffened - legs shooting out straight, arms finding themselves stock-straight at my sides - and I gurgled in surprise. Plastered back into the seat cushion, my worldview eclipsed by the corseted torso of the female enormosity that was my new Office Manager, I could no longer see CNBC’s feed of - yikes - President-Elect Martin but I could hear that her victory speech continued. Her tone had become more serious:

“...and this is also a message to all the men out there, those watching. I will be your president too. For generations we’ve fed you, taken care of your homes, your families. We’ve kept you warm. But you’ve seen in recent years how we’ve grown, how we’ve been doing more. We’ve moved on to running your schools, the majority of your businesses, your banks. Now, men of America, we’re going to govern you. It just. Makes. Sense.”

Melissa broke our kiss, and turned at the neck to look over her shoulder where a crowd had erupted in cheers. “Omigod she’s so beautiful,” she groaned, consumed by passion, inebriated by countless chocolate Martinis, and inflamed with female pride. She’d shifted a bit so I could peer around her and also see the screen, where the tall blond politician and ex-fitness competitor stood at the podium in front of her jubilant crowd. She was a striking woman, for sure but-

“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you,” I truckled, bringing from Melissa an immediate new groan and, once again, her full attention.

“Oh, babyyyy,” she purred as she abruptly hugged me to her chest, the ardor in her voice heavy as syrup, “flattery will get you everywhere!”

“urk,” I ejaculated, face suddenly plastered to her great warm tits, cheek and nose and chin entirely consumed by them, my head nearly slipping fully into the big cleavage she had on full display this evening. My eyes goggled in shock as her smooth, perfumed skin ran over my pallid face. I should have expected this. As the night had worn on, I’d apprehensively become more fawning in my affections, complimenting her broadly for her beauty, for her curves, for how she smelled. She loved it. Now my hands had found themselves on her thickly wide hips and running themselves up and down the sides of her huge, smooth thighs. Silky was her skin, but with powerful muscle beneath. “You’re so strong…” I murmured, bringing another groan from her. She liked those compliments best of all, and I nuzzled my nose in between her breasts. Jesus she smelled and felt wonderful, and as I breathed in the perfume from her cleavage, her warm air and skin, I shuddered.

All night had been about female empowerment, and I’d taken it too lightly at first. As the election results had come in though, as the women around me at the bar had become more and more drunk on presage and portent and more aggressively unyoked, I’d slowly become more and more anxious. What the fuck was actually happening? All I could do was find myself grow more obsequiously ingratiating, towards Melissa and her friends, more passive and complaisant. It was, I see now, a defense mechanism. I’d told myself they deserved it, this night of celebration: women had had it hard for so long…good for them. Little did I know how far the tables had already turned, and that I’d need to find myself some protection, somewhere to hide, a safe burrow.

Speaking of…

Melissa pushed me, my head, deeper in between her full breasts. She purred resonantly, rumbling her seism all around me, taking my unctuousness for the praise it was. She began to pet my hair, the back of my head, and coo sweet, drunken diatribes. “My little man, my sweet little guy…” she hummed, “he’s so small tonight, he needs me so much, he’s gonna need me soooo much…” She wasn’t really making a lot of sense, she hadn’t been for a while - I blamed it on the vodka, but it was also the messages she’d been fed all night from the election coverage. In fact, with one hand she reached to her side and picked up the remote for the television. She turned up the volume as if, though she’d buried me to the ears in her tits, she wanted me to hear this…

“And, men of America - thank you, too. It was many of your votes as well that brought us here. We know, though, that there’s sure to be some resistance. Not all of you are happy, or will accept the results. Some of the resistance, we know, may be violent. We realize that’s how some men lash out when they don’t get what they want, or they feel threatened. But rest assured that…”

I’d been just barely able to hear what was being said, and I know it should have given me more pause. Melissa had tossed the remote aside again, and with her free hand she was now reaching down between us, feeling my swollen cock rising up in my scrub pants, hard for her. She squeezed it and moaned, pleased by my tribute and with a quickness she had the drawstring untied. Struggling to control myself my hands gripped the flesh of her womanly hips, holding on. I felt her pull me out and then - frustrated by how the waistband of the scrubs did not fall adequately away - she tore both pants and boxers away with an audible <rrrrrrrrripppp!> My eyes went wide, facing the darkness of her cleavage, and as I felt new air around me down there I next heard another quick <rrrip!> and suddenly her panties were gone, too. It was dark - dark in the room, and I was blind between her breasts - but I knew what was happening. She shifted her hips, and I felt the warm fur of her, and a thick, syrupy wetness.

“Don’t worry about protection, baby,” she murmured, feeling my apprehension,“I’ve got it covered…”

“holy shit, Melissa…” I mumbled into her chest, not knowing if I should stop her. She was drunk, she was really drunk, and…could she hear me anyway? And, if she could, would she listen? She rubbed herself over me, once, twice, lubricating my shaft, my face sliding down and up in her bosom’s valley, and then I felt her hand grip me.

“Melissa, w-w-wait…” I tried, pulling my face out the little I could, looking up at her. She had her eyes closed. Did we want it like this? Our first time? She was, again, obviously inebriated. But beyond that, there was something else. The night had become about women becoming stronger, taking control of the government, about men ceding authority. I, myself, had grown quietly sycophantic and passive while she had become more and more aggressive. Was this love that was making her do this, her affection for me? Or was she acting on other feelings? Was this a…a display of dominance? Was I about to be made love to, or…was this something else? “Sh-shouldn’t we-“

With my right hand I took her wrist, to pause her.

“C’mon, Jay, shhh…” she quieted me, now looking down at my face peering up at her from her bosom. She was obviously overcome and running on pure hormones, impatient with my hesitation already, "Aren't you excited? It's our turn to take charge."  Her other hand took me, now, grabbing my right wrist and easily pulling it off her own.

On instinct, I moved my left hand, now, to grab the wrist of her hand that still held my erect cock. Quickly, she shook it off and grabbed it, too, releasing my shaft for the moment. She now held both of my wrists in her strong hands. Ow.

“M-Melissa…” I began, but I don’t think she heard me.

“Shush,” she quelled me, considering the situation for a moment but then raising both hands above my head and now taking both my wrists into the grip of one hand of hers. Her free hand now shot back down between us to grab my boner anew. She sighed, feeling that I had - god help me - only gotten harder from the manhandling. My arms now stretched helplessly above my head, I tentatively tugged, trying to struggle free but felt immediately that she was considerably much stronger than me.

"It’s our turn, now, to lead the way..." she continued. If she felt me trying to stop her she gave no notice, and rather I now felt her lifting her hips, repositioning the angle of my boner. I felt her lips on my head and-

“Melissa..?” I began again, trying vainly to pull my hips back, away. She was so big, so heavy. If I’d felt meager before, I now felt utterly without mass, like the sensation of weightlessness as the rollercoaster begins its descent down a plummeting drop. I was on a ride and I couldn’t get off, the bottom dropping out from under me. Thrill and anxiety consumed me both, in equal measures. “w-what are you d-?”

Forcibly, she hugged my head to her chest, abruptly muffling my complaints. I struggled, helplessly and as I felt myself begin to enter her, her voice became breathless. “We’re going to take…” she spoke, as her tightness slid down my god-awfully huge rod with agonizing slowness, as I - big as I was - gradually disappeared into her, being swallowed deliberately,  “…every...inch.”

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

“YES,” she groaned, suddenly transported, her voice empowered with some new rapture as I sunk inside her completely, “yes yes yes!” She slid up, slowly, and then back down, feeling me groan into her chest and helplessly, completely give in to her body and thrust my hips up into her. She breathed, deeply, filling herself with new strength and told me, as she began to fuck me: “You’re finally…fucking…mine.”

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thnx to CaptainAmbiguous and TopographicSociety for their ideas and inspirations, and Anuar for the original AI image I Melissified and tossed in at the end