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A large dose of gratitude is in order for Christiana, the female Cfnm erotica writer whom worked her imagination into the words of this fantastic (and long) story. I've got other stories of hers on the blog here, one of which was published further down the page below this story. Anyhow, enjoy the read and be sure to leave some comments!
Priscilla Widener was a pretty girl. Everyone knew that. With her long, jet-black hair, startling cobalt-blue eyes, and a petite, perfectly symmetrical nose, she made an unforgettable picture of loveliness to all she met. And standing at an impressive 5' 9" with a bust size that measured just a tiny bit shy of 38 DD, you would think that most men would have fought tooth and nail to get a date with her. But this would be an exaggeration. Why? Because Priscilla Widener was fat. Not fat as in obese, but fat as in zaftig with a little more padding around the caboose—just enough to place her among the ranks of the big and beautiful. Yet most people saw her as fat. In fact, Priscilla herself knew she was fat, and she hated it.
Priscilla didn't start out life as a fat baby. Both of her parents were of nominal weight and she had a more or less normal appetite all through her childhood years. That is, until she got to be thirteen. Then all hell broke loose.
Her parent's divorce was a nasty one and Priscilla was caught in the middle—as is usually the case with children, and especially since she was an only child. What exactly motivated her toward gluttony was at first indeterminable. But as the months went by and she kept putting on more and more weight, her parents finally took her to a psychologist who determined that the girl's weight gain was directly related to the anxiety she was feeling about her parent's impending divorce. By the time she reached her fourteenth birthday, she was 5' 5" tall and weighed 180 pounds.
It was bad enough that Priscilla had to witness the painful dissolution of her parent's marriage, but to have become the constant butt of her classmates' cruel jests was even worse. And it didn't help that her name so conveniently rhymed with some of the children's rather colorful ad hoc phrases: "Priscilla, Priscilla, the big fat gorilla!" Or, "Every day Priscilla just keeps getting Widener!" It was all very demeaning and meant to satisfy that mysterious part of a child's nature that finds amusement in cruelty.
The constant barrage of insults finally drove the congenial girl to adopt a more introverted nature, and by the time she was ready to enter high school, she had acquired only a few friends—mostly girls who suffered from the same malady. Even her relatives, who should have acted toward her with far more equanimity, found it incumbent upon themselves to play amateur psychologist, offering her tips on how to lose weight, or gently scolding her when she attempted to procure a second helping of food at the dinner table. This was all done with an air of concern for the girl's best interests, but it was a futile effort: the nice, amiable Jewish girl from Manhasset was far too intelligent and astute to take her relatives' warnings as anything more than a ploy to make themselves look immensely wise in her eyes, and it only made her act more distant toward them.
Priscilla's father, Alan, was a handsome man of 38, tall, and prematurely gray. He was the senior partner in the law firm of Widener, Scharf and Goldstein, prominent Manhattan attorneys who specialized in criminal law. He was what psychologists would call a "Type A" personality—a person driven to succeed. He pushed himself hard and expected his colleagues to follow his example. The problem was that he expected the same fanatical devotion to excellence from Priscilla, who, like her mother, preferred to travel the road through life in baby steps, pausing every now and then to enjoy the scenery along the way. It wasn't that Priscilla was lazy or indifferent; she wasn't. But she failed to see how her workaholic father could really be enjoying life with the burdensome schedule he kept, or how it could benefit his health by working himself to the point of exhaustion. As her mother and father became more estranged over time, she retaliated by packing on the pounds, and her father mistakenly blamed her gain in weight to laziness, often calling her a "fat and lazy" kid. In time, she began to avoid him, seeking refuge in her books or by hanging out with the few female friends she had made.
Selma Widener was another matter. She was a genuinely caring woman who did everything in her power to keep her daughter happy. She was of medium height, attractive, and at 37 was still every bit as shapely as she was during the height of her modeling career, which she had abandoned once she had married. She had a carefree persona that sometimes belied her otherwise motherly nature. She loved to give parties and thrived on fostering relationships with "progressive" types of people that mostly included women who were either artistic or had achieved some measure of success in the business world. Once she and her husband had divorced, these parties became more or less a "woman's only" kind of gathering wherein the issue of female superiority was always at the forefront of their discussions. Although Priscilla was not allowed to take part in these events, she did overhear much of what was said, and it intrigued her greatly.
Unlike her compulsive husband, Selma did not see the world as a rat race, and could not understand why people must sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of making money. Her own family was middle-class folk—her dad had his own dry cleaning business that he owned with his two brothers and her mom was a housewife. They were never rich, but they had enough money to live comfortably. The most important thing in the Goldman family was love, and Selma learned early that money was only a tool that could buy the comforts of life, but love it could never buy. It was this ideology that Priscilla absorbed, not the success-driven ethic of her father.
It was during her sophomore year in high school that Priscilla met and befriended a girl who was to become her best friend. Her name was Claudia Olivetti, an auburn-haired Italian beauty who lived only a few streets away from Priscilla. Claudia was tall, thin, with big breasts and a perfectly rounded butt that made guys drool. She was gregarious, intelligent, outspoken, and unscrupulously honest. She was the most beautiful girl in school and by far the most popular. Yet, she was very circumspect in regards to her choice of friends, choosing to align herself with those with whom she instinctively felt she could trust, rather than to associate with a wide coterie of "friends" simply because it might be fashionable to do so. She and Priscilla found that they had a lot in common, and in a short time became as close as sisters.
Under Claudia's guidance and loving support, Priscilla began to lose weight. Priscilla's mother and father were legally divorced by the time she was 16, and she continued to live with her mother in the same house while seeing her father every weekend. Both of her parents thought very highly of Claudia, not only for the girl's beauty and character, but also because of her positive influence upon their daughter. In roughly a year's time, Priscilla had shed most of her excess weight and had joined the ranks of Claudia's inner circle. She had never been happier.
It was a few days after her eighteenth birthday that she found Claudia at her front door, holding a CD in one hand, and impatiently ringing her doorbell with the other. As she opened the door, the fiery beauty rushed past her and up the stairs leading to her bedroom.
"Hurry up!" You've got to see this!" the girl exclaimed as she disappeared up the stairs.
Priscilla quickly followed her friend into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
"My mother is in the kitchen," Priscilla reminded her friend.
"So, she might have heard you."
"Oh, I see. You think I have some porno don't you?"
"Well? Don't you?"
"Yes!" Claudia laughed. "But this isn't your usual garden variety kind of stuff!"
"What do you mean?"
Without another word, Claudia removed a CD and inserted it into the CD player. In moments the image of a young, handsome, and very naked boy appeared on the screen.
"Oh, my God!" Priscilla laughed. "Is that your brother?"
"Yup, it's Tony. Just watch."
Tony was Claudia's older brother—actually, her stepbrother. He was sitting on the edge of his bed bent over such that he could absorb about one half of his huge, erect phallus into his mouth.
"Holy shit!" Priscilla exclaimed. "How did you get this?"
"I stole it from his room."
"He stuck a camera on a tripod and filmed it. I burned a copy and left the original on his desk. He'll never know."
Priscilla could not take her eyes off the screen. "This is great! I love it. Look at him go! Ha! Ha!"
Claudia laughed hysterically. "Can you believe this? I never knew why he spent so much time in his bedroom! Now I know!"
"Look at the size of that thing! It's got to be a good 12-incher or more!"
The girls continued to shriek loudly, completely forgetting about Priscilla's mother. To their horror, the door suddenly opened and Selma came walking in asking what all the commotion was about. When she saw the image of Tony on the screen her mouth fell open.
"What in God's name is that?" she asked, amused.
"Turn it off!" Priscilla said to her friend. "Mom, please. Look away, will you?"
But Selma couldn't look away. In fact, she told Claudia and her daughter to be quiet as she took up a chair and watched Tony suck avidly on his prick.
"I know him," Selma said, with a grin. "That's your brother Tony, isn't it?"
"Yes," Claudia admitted sheepishly. "You really shouldn't be seeing this."
"Because it's something Claudia wanted to share with me, mom!" Priscilla complained.
"Do you think I'm a prude, Priscilla?" Selma asked. "I see this kind of stuff on the Internet all the time. It's nothing new."
Claudia was stunned. "You...you watch porn on the computer?"
"Of course," Selma replied. "You do too. We all do. Even you, Prissy."
Priscilla didn't know how to respond. She did look at adult sites and sometimes got off on the images and movies, but there was no way her mother could have known—or could she?
"Oh, come on, mom," the offended girl insisted. "You're putting us on."
Selma looked thoughtful. "You know, sex is not something to be ashamed of. It's not dirty. So why should you be ashamed if I choose to watch this with you? I think it's ever so much fun watching a guy suck himself off." Suddenly her eyes turned toward the screen. "Oh, look! He's going to cum!"
Sure enough, Tony's sucking had abruptly come to an end as his towering shaft bobbed gingerly to and fro unaided, on the verge of firing its full supply of semen. The three women looked on in rapt fascination as the bobbing tool exploded in front of them. Jets of sticky white sperm flew up an out, splashing uncontrollably into Tony's face; his eyes, nose and mouth all recipients of his copious overflow. Several spurts even flew over his head and hit the wall behind him.
Selma threw her head back and laughed heartily. "This is wonderful!"
"He does tend to shoot a huge load!" Claudia admitted between squeals of delight, standing closer to the screen to make sure she could see everything clearly.
Priscilla felt a tinge of lust emanate from the pit of her loins as she watched successive eruptions of cum shoot up high into the air. Tony's face was now covered in his own randy juices, thick rivulets of semen flowing down the handsome profile and coagulating on his chest below.
"I guess he must like the taste of it!" Selma laughed, as Tony's dick fired off several more ropes of sperm directly into his open mouth, and which he quickly swallowed.
"I'd like to swallow some of that myself!" Priscilla blurted out without thinking.
"Not like you haven't!" Claudia retorted.
"Oh, shut up!"
"Come on, girls," Selma said. "We've all been there and done that."
"Are you kidding, mom?"
"Are you kidding, Prissy?" Selma asked incredulously. "Don't be so naïve."
For his final performance, Tony's cock shot out another two or three more ropes of sperm, which managed to coat the underside of his chin. The long, gelatinous strands hung in obscene display for the women to enjoy.
"I want you to invite your brother over here for dinner this weekend, Claudia," Selma said. "I'd like to see this first hand."
"Are you serious?"
"I'm having a party for some of my friends and I'd like Tony to be the entertainment. Do you think he'll come?"
"I don't know. I guess so." Claudia scrutinized her host's face, still not able to believe that Selma was in fact serious.
"Don't look at me like that," Selma said to Claudia. "I meant what I said."
"You're crazy mom," Priscilla interjected. "He's not coming over here to do that."
"Just ask him, Claudia. Okay?" the older woman said.
"What do I tell him?" Claudia replied. "That he's going to suck himself off in front of a bunch of women?"
"Yes," Selma said. "And he'll get a free dinner out of it too."
"Then he'll definitely come," Claudia chuckled.
Priscilla looked at her mother as if she were nuts. "You really mean it, don't you? It's another one of those...what do you call it again?"
"Oh, yes, CFNM parties. Oh, God!"
"What's CFNM mean?" Claudia inquired.
"Clothed female, naked male," Selma informed her.
"I've never heard of that before."
"You will," Priscilla said. "Mom throws these parties from time to time."
"You never told me about this."
"It's not something we care to advertise," Selma said. "But I think we can trust you by now."
"I hope so," Claudia replied, looking a bit offended at not having been deemed trustworthy.
"Get him to come," Selma told Claudia. "I think he'll have a good time."
Selma would not explain further, much to Claudia's annoyance. Even Priscilla remained quiet on the subject, in deference to her mother's will. Claudia pressed Priscilla for more information once Selma had left, but all she would tell her friend is that she would have to be patient and to be prepared to be pleasantly surprised.
"I had no idea your mom was so..."
"Out there?" Priscilla asked.
"Yeah. She really is something else."
Priscilla nodded her head in agreement as the two girls sat down to watch Tony Olivetti jerk himself off all over again.
On the night of the party, there were about a dozen women in attendance. They were all somewhere between the ages of 30 and 60, a motley assortment of women impeccably dressed in formal gowns and exuding an air of infinite self-confidence.
Priscilla had chosen a sleek black gown for the occasion, with a simple string of pearls around her neck as her sole accoutrement. Selma wore a lovely emerald-green gown and a stunning emerald necklace adorned with diamonds. Except for the color of their gowns, the two women could have passed for sisters.
Selma had introduced her daughter to all the guests and Priscilla found herself quite at home in their presence. Claudia showed up after most of the other women had arrived, looking astonishingly beautiful in her red satin gown. Her brother Tony, standing at an impressive six feet, two inches, was dressed in a three piece dark blue suit, and looked every bit like a movie actor. More than one pair of hungry female eyes rested upon his sublime presence for longer than what might have been deemed proper etiquette, but he didn't seem to mind the attention.
For Priscilla, this would be the first time she had been officially invited to one of her mother's parties. She had made cursory appearances beforehand but was never allowed to stay too long. Now that she was eighteen, Selma felt it was time that her daughter should learn about CFNM and the women who lived that enigmatic lifestyle. Priscilla was more than happy to oblige. She had seen more than a few handsome young men in attendance at these parties and she was curious to see just what all the fuss was about. Invariably, whenever her mother threw a CFNM party she had been forced to stay over a friend's house, never knowing what really went on. Now she was about to find out.
"It was nice of your mom to invite me," Tony said to Priscilla. "But I don't understand why. I mean, I'm the only guy here."
"Don't worry. You're going to enjoy it."
"With all these hot women around? No doubt about it. And I'm sure the food is going to be great."
"I wasn't talking about the food," she replied, turning to Claudia with a sly smile.
Tony looked perplexed but Claudia deflected his questions and led him away toward the dinner table.
It had been decided that Tony would remain in the dark as to what his real purpose for being there would be. Claudia had insisted upon this course of action because she had been the butt of Tony's pranks for years, and now she felt that it was time he was paid back for all the tricks he played upon her. At first Selma and Priscilla tried to dissuade her from this vengeful plot, but the more Claudia went on about the sneaky and perverted things Tony had done to her, the more they became convinced that he needed to be taught a lesson. The guests had been prepped by Selma as to what to expect, so there was an air of anxious expectation pervading the atmosphere once everyone had sat down to dinner. Little did Tony suspect that, even as he took his first mouthful of food, he was going to soon become the object of the women's unbridled amusement.
The dinner began at 8:00 p.m. and ended just before 10:00 p.m. By this time most of the women were quite drunk. Even Tony, who normally held his liquor quite well, was feeling tipsy. In fact, he was feeling so uninhibited that he actually volunteered to tell his inebriated listeners about the many stunts he had pulled on his innocent sister, laughing gaily as he told each story while Claudia sat next to him wearing a wan smile. He thought he had the women in the palm of his hands. But if the liquor hadn't dulled his senses he would have realized that they were laughing at him, not with him.
"So you enjoy torturing your sister, don't you?"
Tony had to turn his head sharply to the right to find the source of this comment. "What? What did you say?" he asked the woman.
The woman who had asked the question was called Betty, a tall, middle-aged redhead with huge tits. She had been listening to Tony spout off at the mouth about his devious ploys against his sister and she had decided that she had heard enough.
"I said it seems that you enjoy torturing your sister."
Tony took a huge gulp of beer from his glass before setting it down on the table with a thud. "Yes, I do. Right, Claudia? Little sister? Ms. Naiveté!" He laughed heartily as he put his arm around his sister's neck and pulled her to him. "She's a good sport, aren't you sis? Not too swift, but a good sport!"
Claudia backed away from his drunken embrace and looked at him with disgust. "You're such an asshole, Tony!"
Several women spoke out in agreement with the offended girl's estimation of her brother, prompting Betty to verbally attack him. "You're sister's got that right!"
"Hey, wait a minute!" Tony said, a look of astonishment on his face. "They were all harmless pranks!"
"One of those pranks almost cost Claudia her job," Betty replied. "I don't think that's harmless."
Tony laughed aloud. "And who the hell are you to judge me, huh lady? Everybody knows Claudia ain't the sharpest tool in the shed."
"Go fuck yourself, Tony!" Claudia snapped.
"See what I mean," the young man said, directing his response toward Betty.
Selma could see her evening degenerating right before her eyes unless she could do something to negate the negative emotions now being displayed. She stood up and called for everyone's attention.
"All this bullshit is ruining my party. I'm sure that's not what any of you had in mind."
She looked directly at Tony and then Betty, both of whom remained silent. "Now that we have all eaten, I would like to invite everyone out onto the lanai. I have something very special I want to show you."
Without further ado, the group slowly made their way outside, where they found a DVD player and a huge screen set up on one end of the patio. After everyone had taken their seats, Selma inserted a CD into the machine and sat down beside Priscilla and Claudia.
"We really didn't come here to watch a movie, Selma," Madison said, a hot-looking blonde MILF with huge tits.
"Trust me," Selma replied. "This is one movie you're not going to want to miss!"
Priscilla and Claudia fought hard to suppress their laughter as the naked image of Tony soon appeared on the screen.
"What?" exclaimed Tony as he saw himself walk about his bedroom in full living color. "What the fuck is this, Claudia?"
"Just shut up, Tony," his sister laughing replied. "It's payback time."
The boy's handsome face and sculpted body made a big impression upon all the women, who looked first at the screen and then at Tony to make certain it was the same person. Amidst the cheers and sexual taunts thrown at him, the startled boy was dismayed by the derisive laughter of his sister and Priscilla, who were heartily enjoying his discomfort.
"I can't believe this!" Tony wailed. "You stole that CD from my bedroom didn't you Claudia?"
"Actually, I made a copy of it," she replied, delighted.
Tony winced and looked back up at the screen, the image of his hand furiously stroking his cock causing him great embarrassment.
The group of women was in hysterics as they watched the young man frantically pull on his cock. Tony looked as if he were going to run away.
"Don't think of leaving, Tony," Selma warned him. "You sit down and watch this or Claudia will show it to your parents."
"She wouldn't dare!" he replied aghast.
"Oh, yes I would, you little pervert," Claudia replied smugly. "Just sit down and watch."
Tony's onscreen image was now bent over, his mouth firmly planted around the head of his huge penis.
"This is great!" shrieked Allison, one of Selma's closest friends. She was a very lovely woman of about 50 years old with short red hair and stunning blue eyes. "I love watching guys suck themselves off!"
"Just like a dog!" Betty roared. "This is too much!"
The women were now laughing and teasing Tony to the point where he felt miniscule in front of them. He was forced to watch as more of his penis disappeared down his throat, provoking gales of laughter from his captive audience.
Claudia, after having spent years as the unwilling recipient of Tony's invariable jests, was enjoying herself immensely as she watched the spectacle unfold on the big screen. She had seen her brother jerk off many times before, unbeknownst to him, while he was on the Internet surfing for porn, thoroughly captivated with the sexy images in front of him. She found it amusing more than a sexual turn-on, although she did enjoy watching the huge ropes of cum shoot out from his cock at the moment of climax. Now, here he was, a six-foot representation of himself on the screen before her and this cheering audience of women, performing auto-fellatio with the most reckless abandon upon his stiff tool, which was now ready to burst.
"Ha! Ha!" Selma laughed delightedly. "I think Tony is ready to explode!"
Sure enough, the young man's head was now bobbing up and down so fast that it was apparent to everyone that his orgasm was imminent.
Priscilla was captivated by the performance, even though she and Claudia had watched it a dozen times already. She knew Tony was ready to blow his load, and she could hardly wait to see the reaction from the women, who were now clamoring in unison for Tony to cum.
Suddenly, Tony's head drew quickly away as he stared down upon his climaxing prick. The women howled with delight as the first huge rope of semen hit him squarely in the face, causing him to turn his head to the right to avoid getting hit again. The second shot sailed right over his head, splashing into the wall behind him.
"What a huge fucking load!" Betty cried.
Again, another creamy burst of semen shot high up into the air from his unaided prick, causing the women to shriek with amazement at the copious flow of sperm.
"This is fucking great!" laughed Lindsay, a tall brunette with very long legs. "I love sperm showers!"
Over and over Tony's huge dick fired off thick ropes of cum, most of which splashed into his upper torso or careened over his head. A few more jets of sperm landed in his face and hair until it was finally over. Priscilla looked at Claudia, who was beaming proudly at what she had done. Tony sat next to her in dismay, looking and feeling totally ridiculed.
When the video was over the women all gave Tony a huge round of applause. Even Claudia found herself clapping.
"You were wonderful brother!" she said, teasing him.
The women agreed.
"That was one of the sexiest things I ever saw!" Allison exclaimed to Selma. "We'll have to hire him for all our parties!"
"Without a doubt," Betty agreed. "I nearly had an orgasm myself watching his cock shoot like that!"
"What do you say, Tony?" Selma asked the boy. "We'll pay you good money if you're interested."
Despite his embarrassment, Tony was intrigued by her offer. "How much?" he asked.
"Let's just say that it's more than you'll ever make working a year at McDonalds."
Tony thought of the new Corvette he had wanted to buy for years but could never afford.
"Okay," he replied. "I'm in."
"Splendid!" Betty smiled. "But our next party isn't until a month from now. I really wanted to see you perform in person. You know, like maybe even...now."
"Yes! Yes!" Allison readily agreed. "You have to give us a show now, Tony. Come on. Whip it out and suck if off for us!"
The lusty group of women suddenly forced themselves upon the boy, playing with his hair, caressing his shoulders and chest, and generally making him feel like a total sex object. All the women insisted that he put on a show for them.
"See what you started, Claudia?" Tony said to his sister as she looked at him with amusement and laughed.
"Serves you right!" she replied. "Give them what they want, stud."
Within minutes he was standing in front of the women completely nude jerking his stiff prick. Every woman, including Priscilla and her mother, got a chance to fondle his taught, muscular body, and a few even stroked his prick.
"My brother tends to shoot really big loads," Claudia admitted to the women. "Don't get too close."
"And how would you know that?" asked Lindsay.
"Yes," Tony asked his sister. "How would you know that?"
"Because I've seen you shoot off many times when you forgot to close your bedroom door."
"You little pervert!" Tony scowled. "You watched me cum?"
"I thought it was funny," she explained. "It's what you get for treating me like you did all those years."
Priscilla thought this was priceless. "Yeah, Tony. Payback is a bitch, isn't it?"
All through this banter Tony continued to jerk himself off, never once stopping, even when he got a little upset with Claudia. He actually loved being the center of attention and having all these lovely mature women watch as he played with his cock in front of them. He especially liked Betty, with her flaming red hair and big tits. As he stroked himself, he could picture his cum shooting out all over her nipples, covering them with his manly white paste. The illusion made his sperm-laden balls twinge.
"I think I'm going to cum, ladies," he announced as he pumped his prick furiously.
"Let's see it," Allison said, staring down at the little slit atop his bloated head.
Tony roared and threw his head back. "I can't believe you're making me do this!" he exclaimed.
A huge jet of white cream flew out of his prick and sailed high into the air as the women watched enthralled. This was followed by a series of multiple cumshots, each one traveling a bit further than the one before it, each rope splashing in the same spot as its cousin before it, creating a viscous puddle of sticky sperm on the floor immediately in front of Betty's feet.
Betty laughed and applauded. "Fuck, yes!" she screamed as the next creamy load of cum landed in front of her.
"I love watching guys shoot their jizz," Selma said. "I love the look on their faces, don't you girls?"
She said this to Priscilla and Claudia, who were both completely in awe of Tony's immense ejaculation.
"If he weren't my brother," Claudia said, "I'd jerk him off myself."
Priscilla was greatly amused by this admission. "Really? You'd give your own brother a handjob, Claudia?"
Claudia blushed at the idea but she was aroused nonetheless. "Maybe," she confessed. "If he were nice to me."
Tony sent one last sticky burst of semen into the air and fell back onto a chair, exhausted. He was greeted with a tremendous round of applause.
"Spectacular!" Selma exclaimed. "Simply spectacular!"
"That's nothing," Claudia said. "He can cum a lot more times."
"Is that so?" Selma replied, intrigued. "I'd like to see that."
Without another word, Claudia walked over to her brother who was now resting in a chair and talking with some of the women, and reached down and took his prick in her hands.
"Hey!" Tony remarked at the intrusion of her hand on his cock. "What are you doing?"
"I told Selma you could cum for us again. I want to jerk it this time."
Tony's face registered first surprise and then amusement. "Are you kidding me?"
"Just let me do it, okay? Sit back and relax."
Her hands felt wonderful on his penis. He had never thought of his sister in this way, but she was so beautiful and sexy, and her hands were so strong yet feminine, that he sat there dumbfounded as she manipulated his giant tool until it was once again as hard as a rock.
"Nothing like keeping it in the family!" Betty laughed as she watched Tony's prick grow to massive proportions under Claudia's insistent tugging.
It took exactly three minutes to get Tony to spurt again; this time his sister's lovely hands brought forth and even greater climax than his first solo effort. Giant ropes of hot white sperm suddenly shot out high into the air in stunning multiple climaxes that made Claudia gasp with pleasure. Tony watched as his sister's insistent handjob produced several, long, continuous arcs of sperm that shot up high above his head and landed on the floor by his feet. The women screamed with joy as the boy was driven to one startling and creamy climax after another by his sister's magical, pumping hands.
"Get out all of his fucking cream!" Priscilla squealed, as the volleys of Tony's hot cum sailed out into the astonished audience.
Claudia's hands were completely covered in sperm, which she used as lubrication to further stimulate her brother's spurting prick.
"Wow!" Allison exclaimed as one long jet of semen landed on her shoe. "That was a big one!"
The women laughed hysterically at each incredible burst of joy juice. It seemed that it would never end.
"Where does this fucking kid get it all?" Betty cried, dogging suddenly to avoid being splashed.
Tony was breathing heavily, his body frozen in position as he watched his sister wring the last drops of cream from his slowly relaxing tool. He had never experienced such an overpowering climax in all his life. Claudia looked at him and smiled. He knew he would never play any practical jokes upon her ever again.
"I think I emptied your balls," his sister laughed as she reached for a bunch of napkins with which to clean her hands.
"You were great!" Tony remarked, his voice full of praise. "No girlfriend I ever had gave me a handjob like that!"
Claudia kissed her brother on the lips. "No more jokes and you'll get more of them."
"No more jokes. I promise."
Both Tony and Claudia received a huge round of applause as his sister helped him to his feet.
Selma was congratulated by her friends on her "find". Tony was indeed a big shooter and he would play an important part in entertaining her friends in the months to come. For Priscilla it was a learning experience in how to control men and, via Claudia's example, how to get revenge and seek recompense for sleights perpetrated against an innocent person. It was something she would never forget.
All through high school Priscilla had had a constant supply of boyfriends. The memories of her ungainly and unattractive preteen years where the strains of "Priscilla, the big fat gorilla" would cruelly assault her ears were over. Even during her first year at college, the scars were slow to heal. Every time she saw an overweight female student huffing and puffing to get up a flight of stairs, she thought of herself not too long ago; in her case, with the added accompaniment of those vicious jibes that had become the hallmark of her existence in grade school.
Upon graduation from college, Priscilla had found a job as a news editor at the prestigious WNYX television station in Manhattan. She loved her job and thrived on the energy and pulse of big city life. She was well liked by everyone, especially a handsome young man by the name of Eddie Schwartz, a congenial co-worker who was the head of the editorial department. The pair started dating not long after Priscilla arrived and after a year had passed Eddie proposed marriage to her. She accepted his proposal and they decided to get married the following year. Priscilla had never been happier.
During the past few years the CFNM parties had become a fixture at the Widener household. Tony had long since joined the Navy but he gave several solid performances that would not be soon forgotten. After he left, a succession of young men came and went, each contributing his own particular brand of sexuality to the mix. Sometimes there was more than one guy who entertained, and it became a kind of homemade stripper party of sorts where men gladly relinquished their abundant stores of sperm for the raucous and gawking female spectators.
It was during one of these spectacles that Priscilla made acquaintance with a woman who introduced her to a male fertility drug called "Inferitol," which allowed men to produce vast amounts of sperm in a short period of time, thus making them capable of ejaculating prodigious loads at incredible distances. The woman's name was Mary Douglas, a beautiful, tall, redhead with smoldering green eyes who had, through a complicated series of circumstances, become CEO of a famous pharmaceutical company in London. Mary was only a few years older than Priscilla but had already achieved great recognition in the business world for her acumen and ruthless devotion to the truth. Priscilla was introduced to her by Claudia, who was acquainted with the woman via her mother, and the two women became instant friends.
"So, Mary, how did you find out about this drug?" Priscilla asked the stunning redhead.
"Wilson Labs developed it about a year ago. At that time it was administered by injection directly into the scrotum. Now it's available in pill form and is even more effective when taken orally."
"The guys must like that," Claudia observed.
"They do—absolutely. Most men don't like seeing a needle heading for their balls."
Priscilla laughed at the thought. "I can understand that!"
"But you should see the ejaculations this drug produces," Mary continued. "It's quite amazing."
"In what way?" Priscilla asked.
"Well, they are very long and sustained releases that can last up to a few minutes in length."
Mary shook her head. "Nope. I swear to you. It's true."
Claudia and Priscilla looked at each other and grinned, hoping that their new friend wasn't exaggerating.
"What does this drug do exactly?" Priscilla wanted to know.
"It acts as a precursor to semen," Mary answered. "It forces sperm to replicate at up to ten to twenty times the normal rate. Of course, now that it's in pill form, the drug acts more quickly and robustly, so it only takes anywhere from twenty minutes to a half hour before a guy starts shooting off like a fire hose."
"Can they control it?"
"You mean stop themselves from ejaculating?" Mary laughed. "Can you stop a volcano from erupting? No. Once the drug is inside them, they are compelled to masturbate to get rid of the excess amounts of sperm that are constantly replicating."
"How long do their orgasms last?"
"One guy was recorded as lasting for more than an hour with multiple ejaculations taking place every five minutes or so."
Claudia whistled loudly. "Can you imagine if we could get some guys like that for our parties, Priscilla? You're mother would flip."
Priscilla smiled. She knew that if she could get her hands on this drug, this "Inferitol," that it would be a big hit at the party and endear her to all her mother's friends.
"I assume this is a prescribed medication?" she asked Mary.
"Yes, of course," Mary responded. "However, I have ways to get my hands on some of it."
Claudia's eyes lit up. "You do?"
"Yes. I have a few pills on me now. But you must remember that you cannot utter a word about it. Otherwise I could get into big trouble."
"Our lips are sealed," Priscilla assured her. "I'd love to see a demonstration of this wonder drug."
Mary smiled deviously. "You're going to." She looked at her watch. "In about ten minutes."
"Yes. Your stripper guy was given the drug about twenty minutes ago. Oh, don't worry. I gave it to him with his full consent. He was anxious to try it."
"I'll bet he was!" Claudia laughed.
Priscilla was thrilled. "I suggest we get a front row seat."
"You don't want to get too close," Mary warned her.
"Oh, no," Pricilla chuckled, realizing what Mary meant. "I guess not!"
The three women headed out onto the lanai, where the entire 100 or so women were being entertained by a man who was dancing completely in the nude. The stripper, whose name was Arnie, had been recruited by Betty from one of the top strip clubs in Manhattan called "Sensations". He was an extremely handsome black man of about 30, powerfully built, and with a smile that could melt any woman's heart. Priscilla drew a deep breath when she saw that Arnie was now sitting on top of her mother's lap, gyrating sexually, Selma's long and well-manicured fingers wrapped around his erect 10-inch penis, stroking it up and down in time to the music.
"He's going to cum any time now," Mary observed casually to Priscilla. "Maybe you should warn your mother."
"No, don't!" Claudia replied. "She always wanted to force a guy to shoot buckets of jizz. Let her have her fun."
Priscilla laughed and the three women sat down about twenty feet away from where Selma was sitting.
Arnie was having a great time surrounded by so many lascivious women. He was used to it. In the strip club he was often the focus of attention during the many private shows that were performed there, many of which were filmed and broadcast over the Internet. Many of the women in attendance recognized him from his online performances and were captivated by his innate charm and professionalism. For his part, there was no place else he'd rather be.
As Selma's lovely hand forcefully jerked Arnie's huge tool, he began thrusting his penis into her fist, feeling the first tingling sensation of the drug, which was now beginning to take effect. The crowd of women knew he was close to orgasm and cheered him on without restraint. His jovial expression suddenly changed to one of extreme urgency as he was gripped by a powerful orgasm.
"That's it mom!" Priscilla cried. "You're going to make him cum!"
The crowd roared as Selma's hand now flew up and down the thick, black shaft with increasing speed.
"He's going to pop!" Betty laughed aloud as Arnie's body froze.
Selma pulled up hard on the stripper's stiff pole, anxious to see him shoot his cream into the air.
"Oh, fuck!" Arnie screamed, as the head of his prick swelled up like a huge purple mushroom.
A half dozen thick and pasty shots of cum flew up high into the air above Selma's head and out and into the jeering faces of the women seated around her. It was raining semen. Big globs of Arnie's molten sperm splashed into faces, hair, dresses, legs, arms, shoes, and anything else that stood in its way, forcing the astonished onlookers to dodge this way and that for cover. It was useless. The spurts of cum were being launched so quickly and voluminously that within seconds half the crowd was baptized with the stripper's errant spunk. Arnie's face registered first absolute pleasure then shock as he watched his penis expend vast amounts of sperm into the crowd. Selma, too, was astounded at the abundant doses of sperm, but she kept jerking him off nonetheless, laughing through it all as the long jets of hot cream sailed up into the air.
"What did I tell you?" Mary asked Priscilla, her eyes aglow. "He'll keep that up for at least another minute."
"It's fucking incredible!" Priscilla shouted through the din. "I love it!"
Claudia was sitting there, astonished as everyone else, her mouth half open. "God, what a load!"
"Keep jerking him, Selma!" Lindsay roared as she hid behind a nearby table, half crouched down to avoid the onslaught.
Betty and Allison stood smartly behind Selma and watched as their friend's rapidly stroking hand provoked round after round of hot spunk from Arnie's tool. On one sharp upward pull, Arnie moaned loudly as a splendid series of sperm blasts shot out at great speed onto the floor in front of him. Rope after stringy rope was joyously ejected from his tortured prick until the floor beneath his feet was awash in his salty offering.
"He's a cum machine!" Betty laughed, as she watched the spunk fly in all directions.
"I know!" Allison cried. "It's so funny!"
Over and over the persistent hand of Selma Widener coaxed out one mammoth load after another. And then, after almost a full minute, the tired prick was drained.
"I've got to sit down," Arnie complained, as he stumbled into a nearby chair and collapsed into it, his body completely covered in sweat. He received a tremendous round of applause, as did Selma.
"I've never seen a man cum like that," Allison said to Arnie. "What did you shoot? A quart of sperm just now?"
"It felt like it," he replied, catching his breath.
Mary took it upon herself to offer a brief explanation to the crowd as to the 'miracle' behind Arnie's outstanding performance. When she told them about it, the women roared with laughter.
"A fertility drug?" Betty asked Mary. "You gave him a fertility drug?"
"It's called 'Inferitol'," Mary replied. "It's something new on the market."
"I hope you have the patent on that stuff, Mary, because it's going to be a best seller, that's for sure!"
"Mary told me about it beforehand," Selma said to Betty. "Arnie knew about it too."
"And the show ain't over either, right Mary?" Arnie asked. "
"No, Arnie. You can't expect your next ejaculation in about three minutes, with subsequent ejaculations about every five minutes or so after that up to a full half hour. The results will be less energetic as the drug wears off."
"I hope my heart doesn't give out before that."
"Don't worry. The first ejaculation is the most profound. The others will be less so, but no less satisfying."
"Every man's dream I would think," Lindsay said, looking down lustfully upon the recuperating body of the handsome black hunk.
Mary smiled. "It's illegal. I shouldn't even have it in my possession. But the Sisterhood can make good use of it. That's why I'm giving my last supply of pills to Danielle. If I'm caught with this drug on me I could lose my job and go to jail."
"That will never happen," Danielle said, walking up to Mary with her hand outstretched. "Give it up girl."
Without a pause, Mary reached into her purse and withdrew a small pillbox containing the wonder drug. She placed the box dutifully in Danielle's hand.
"Thank you Sister," Danielle said, putting the box in her purse. "Another powerful tool in our arsenal."
Danielle Taylor was the leader of the New York chapter of the Sisterhood and was also the President of "Larger than Life," an organization dedicated to the big, beautiful woman lifestyle. At 6' 1" tall she was a very imposing woman whose mere presence often intimidated most men. She had a large frame and though not fat, she was on the verge of being plump, with a set of tits that proudly stood out in defiance of gravity. She was not beautiful in the traditional sense, but had very fine features and was considered pretty by most. Her long, auburn hair fell to her waistline and her piercing sky-blue eyes denoted a keen intellect that did not suffer fools gladly. She was dressed smartly in a charcoal gray business suit and black pumps, which made her look at least a few inches taller. At just 27 years old, she had achieved more than most women her age, and she was proud of it.
With the pills now securely in her possession, Danielle turned to find Priscilla and Claudia standing next to her.
"Danielle," Selma said, "this is my daughter Priscilla and her best friend Claudia Olivetti."
"Nice to meet both of you," Danielle said, extending her hand to both girls.
"Mom has mentioned you quite often," Priscilla replied. "It's great to finally meet you in person."
Before Danielle had a chance to respond, Arnie suddenly let out a loud groan as his prick once more was on the verge of imminent orgasm.
"Better get out of the way!" Mary shouted.
Within an instant all the women standing around Arnie were seeking shelter from the oncoming sperm bath. They scattered this way and that as the stripper's huge prick rocked back and forth under its own volition without any help from Arnie's own hands.
"Shit! Fuck!" the muscular black man exclaimed as he stared down upon his bobbing tool with disbelief. "I'm gonna cum!"
No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than a huge torrent of hot, white seed spurted out of his enormous dick, sending thick wads of creamy juice high up into the air in front of him, all without the aid of his, or anyone else's, hands. Priscilla and Claudia moved precipitously behind Arnie so that they could watch his cock explode without getting their clothes splashed.
"Here comes another one!" Claudia laughed as a long, stringy rope of sperm flew about 20 feet up into the air in front of her. "There's so much of it!" she remarked, unable to take her eyes off Arnie's spurting tool.
Danielle stood about a good 30 feet away from Arnie and watched with amusement as his unaided prick fired off one volley after another of it lusty contents. She was a very lascivious woman herself and enjoyed the sight of handsome, muscular men shooting their loads in front of her, as most Sisterhood women did. She found herself counting aloud the tremendous spurts of sperm as they shot out at rapid speed into the air and onto the ground in front of the exhausted stripper. This went on for almost a full minute until Arnie's balls were once again emptied of sperm.
Danielle laughed heartily. "What a great way to keep men complacent!"
Several more times Arnie was forced to relinquish his heavy load of semen for the crowd, but each time he produced less and less of his precious liquid until, at last, he was completely and utterly drained of his vital juices. Selma's party was a spectacular success, not only because of the amazing Inferitol drug, but because Priscilla had made a new and very important friend. She and Danielle Taylor would meet for lunch the very next day.
The "Larger than Life" headquarters was situated in a building in midtown Manhattan between 57th and 58th streets on 6th Avenue. Priscilla had a 12:00 p.m. appointment with Danielle at her office on the 12th floor. From there the two women were going to go to lunch at a well-known eatery just around the corner.
As Priscilla walked out of the elevator and through the glass doors leading into the main entrance of the company, she felt a tinge of nervousness. Danielle was only a few years older than she was, and yet she presented herself as a woman with knowledge and posture far beyond her years. Friendly though she was, Danielle was a woman of business and profound intelligence, and this made Priscilla a bit insecure. Despite this, she found courage in the fact that Danielle and her mother had been friends for a very long time, and her mother had reassured her that as long as you dealt honestly and truthfully with the Sisterhood leader, you would have nothing to fear.
Priscilla waited only a few moments before being escorted into Danielle's private office, a large, almost masculine-looking, room on the corner of the north side of the building, replete with heavy, cherry furniture, green and beige colored wallpaper, and several huge, potted plants situated on the floor in each corner of the room.
"There you are!" Danielle said, rising to meet her guest. "You look just stunning!"
"Thanks, Danielle. You look great yourself."
The two women shook hands warmly and Danielle offered her newfound friend a chair.
"Please, have a seat."
"Thank you," said Priscilla, looking around the room to admire the various prints Danielle had hung upon her office walls.
"Would you care for something to drink?"
"No. I'll wait until we go to lunch."
"So what do you think of the place?"
"Lovely, but also utilitarian."
"As any office should be," the pretty woman replied with geniality. "Some offices are so devoid of the human element. It's all functionality and no soul. I hate that."
Priscilla knew exactly what she meant. "I do too. The décor should reflect the soul of its occupant."
Danielle smiled. "Precisely! Come. Let me take you on a tour of the office."
After Priscilla had spent some time meeting people and purveying the vast suite of offices that made up Danielle's company, the two women had lunch and then took a leisurely stroll through Central Park, which was teeming with people who had taken advantage of the beautiful spring day to eat their lunch under the cloudless sky and blossoming trees.
They found a bench to sit on, just underneath an old, budding chestnut tree that gave them partial shade from the mid-afternoon sun. The city was alive with energy. Even here, in the midst of this artificially contrived environment, the sounds and smells of the city assailed them, but the effect was muted by the trees and fountains, which made it seem like a tiny oasis of sanity; a pastoral quirk surrounded by a swirling vortex of humanity impinging upon them from all sides.
"Your mother has told me a lot about you," Danielle said, looking Priscilla in the eye. "She says that you were once pretty heavy."
At first Priscilla found her comment a bit untoward but then realized that Danielle was a straightforward person who always, for better or worse, spoke her mind. She decided that it was not meant maliciously but merely as a prelude to conversation.
"In my early teen years I was quite big," Priscilla admitted. "My parents were going through a divorce and it was my way of retaliating."
"I totally understand," Danielle replied sympathetically. "I went through something similar myself. Only in my case, my father used to hit my mother and me. It was awful."
"My dad never hit me, but then he was hardly ever around."
"What do you mean?"
"My father is a workaholic. His family always came second to his job."
Danielle sighed heavily. She studied Priscilla's exquisite features, the perfectly symmetrical nose, each nostril so finely shaped and delicate with just a hint of freckles on the bridge of her nose; the lustrous jet-black hair that captured the light of the sun in waves of cascading hues of intense midnight to succulent chocolate brown; the large, liquid, blue eyes, full of energy, intelligence and compassion. She wondered how any man, especially her own father, could be indifferent to such a precious jewel of a girl so as to behave as if she didn't even exist. It was beyond her comprehension to understand such behavior.
"You are a beautiful woman," Danielle said softly, touching the side of Priscilla's face with the back of her hand in one gentle movement. "I think you and I are going to be great friends. What do you think?"
"I don't have to think," the young woman replied, savoring the older woman's touch. "I know."
For a while the two women sat together in silence, enjoying the light, cool breeze that washed over them.
"Tell me a little about yourself," Danielle said. "Your mom didn't fill in all the gaps."
"Well, I work for WNYX in the editorial department. I have a boyfriend, Eddie Schwartz, and we're engaged to be married next year—a December wedding..."
"No, no," Danielle stopped her. "I know all that from your mom. I want to know what makes you tick. You know. What is your passion in life? What is important to you?"
"Oh, that stuff."
Danielle chuckled to herself, sensing that it might take a little prying to get under her friend's skin. "You tell me and I'll tell you."
"That's a deal," Priscilla agreed.
At that moment a young man, not older than perhaps twenty, and dressed in only a torn pair of jeans, dirty t-shirt and worn sneakers, came waltzing by looking for a handout. Danielle immediately told him to get lost.
"Come on. Can't you spare a fuckin' few dollars?" he said, scowling.
"Why don't you get a job?" Danielle retorted.
"I just want a few dollars to buy something to eat, that's all."
"You mean to buy drugs. No. Sorry. I can't help you. Now take off."
He started to walk away and then turned around and came back. This time he spoke to Priscilla. "Your friend is a cheap bitch. But everyone can see she eats well enough."
"Go away!" Priscilla said, turning her face away from his.
At precisely this moment Danielle got up and shoved her two huge tits right into his leering face. He looked up at her with a look of surprise and fell back instinctively from the angry woman who now towered over him.
"I have no patience for people such as you," she said to the man. "I see you here all the time, hanging around and doing nothing but annoying everyone. You're perfectly healthy and fit for work. Yet, you prefer to solicit people for money."
"My life sucks," he replied. "What can I tell you?"
"You're a waste of life."
The young man moved away from Danielle, as if seeking refuge within the small crowd of passersby might instill some courage within him. "Fuck you, bitch. God will punish you someday."
Priscilla watched the young man approach other people he stumbled into and suddenly felt bad for her friend. "What an asshole. I can't imagine being like that—living on the mercy of strangers."
"I can understand if a person is mentally ill or has a physical impairment that prevents them from holding down a job. But this guy is just fucking lazy."
Both women watched the young man accost one person after the other in his quest for money. He was turned down by everyone he met. Moments later he disappeared among the crowd.
"Feel like taking a walk?" Danielle asked.
As they walked through the park Priscilla found herself opening up to Danielle in a way that she had only reserved for Claudia. She felt comfortable revealing the details of her life to this larger than life woman whose cheery smile and forthcoming attitude gave her a sense of security and well being.
"I guess I just want a simple life," Priscilla began. "A nice house somewhere in Manhasset or at least in Nassau county. An adoring husband. A few kids—a boy and a girl preferably. And of course a good job. I don't care if we're rich. I just want to be happy."
Danielle stole a glance at her younger counterpart and laughed. "An idealist and a romanticist. How quaint!"
"I suppose I am. But what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing," Danielle replied. "If you want a secure, safe existence."
"There's a lot to be said for feeling safe and secure."
"I assume there is. But I've found that it's a sure pathway to boredom and ultimate discontent."
Priscilla studied her friend's face intently, waiting for something more.
"No. It's true," Danielle continued, sensing that her comment required further elaboration. "There really is no such thing as security. No one is safe. It's all an illusion. And the price you pay for being just one of the crowd?: your soul."
"Aren't you being just a little dramatic?"
"Am I? I don't think so. Look around you. Most of these poor slobs go to work every day completely oblivious to the truth that surrounds them. They think they're living the 'American Dream'. But that, too, is an illusion. There never was any such thing as an 'American Dream,' just as there is no such thing as 'family values,' or 'individual rights,' or a 'War on Terror,' or even a 'God Bless America'. They think they're safe and secure—just as you do. But no one, and I mean no one, can guarantee your safety and security; not your parents, your friends, the police, the government—no one!"
"So what are you saying? That we're all sleepwalking through life?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying." Danielle's voice took on a more insistent tone. "Look, Priscilla. Our country is in very deep trouble. The red flag should have gone up when the somnambulists of this country voted George Bush in for a second term. But the bullshit really began long ago when the powerful plutocrats—I'm talking about the oligarchic families that are the real owners of the United States—decided to initiate their schemes to make themselves the supreme lords of this land, which has since been bought and sold from under our feet I might add, and to disenfranchise the American people. Think of it. The recent sub-prime fiasco has caused millions of people to lose tons of money, their homes, and their investments...because the banks got greedy. And what does our government do? They bail out the banks. They very entities who created the financial meltdown were given billions of dollars by good old Uncle Sam to help bail them out. What the government should have done was to put a freeze on their assets, not lend them a helping hand. Yet they did. It is the greatest scandal ever, and the average American taxpayer got the bill. Does this sound like a country with a healthy soul?"
"You sound a lot like my dad," Priscilla admitted. "He hates Wall Street. He calls them all 'criminals'."
"And so they are! The banks, the IMF, the Federal Reserve, the powerful oil companies and mega corporations of all kinds have their fingers in the pie. Our government has become nothing more than one giant corporate entity in service to these global conglomerates, these fucking cartels. And as they grow more powerful, the beautiful, shining Republic for which we stand is fading away. These entities, or I should say rather, these men, because it is men who are responsible for the horrors that have come upon us, and which will soon come upon us again but in an even far more terrible way, want nothing more than to reduce the working class and the poor to serfdom. It's happening now. The Patriot Act is dissolving our freedoms under the guise of keeping America safe and secure and the banks are closing in for the kill by keeping people in debt such that they cannot afford to keep their homes. Prices for goods and services keep climbing while wages remain low or static. And may I remind you that this phenomenon is not just occurring here in the United States, but all around the world. These fucking bastards, these men who run the banks and therefore the world, want it all for themselves and to hell with the rest of us."
"And what are we supposed to do about all this? The rich have always held power. Even in ancient times it was the wealthy people who controlled everything."
"True. Very true. I don't know why the few always had the most and the many had next to nothing, but it seems to be the way of things. But it's a different world now. The stakes are far higher and the big boys, the ones who sit on top of the world, are playing their trump card. They want it all and they'll get it too, unless we do something to stop them."
"Like what?" Priscilla argued. "I'm not disagreeing with you because I really believe that things are pretty bad right now. But what can we do? Start a revolution or something?"
Danielle stopped dead in her tracks and looked her friend right in the eye. "Yes! A second revolution. A second War of Independence!"
"Oh, come on!" Priscilla laughed. "You can't be serious!"
"But I am serious! That's the very reason why I joined the Sisterhood. I assume your mother has indoctrinated you?"
"She has. But I am not a Sister and don't know if I want to become one."
"But she has told you about men. I'm talking about those men who have messed up the world, not guys like your little Eddie Schwartz."
Priscilla giggled when she thought of her genial, lovesick fiancé. "Yes, she did."
"Then you know that the rule of men must end. We women must take control. It is the only way for our civilization to survive."
"I've heard my mother say the same things for years. I can't imagine how the Sisterhood is ever going to achieve such a goal. It's incomprehensible to me."
"Really? At one time people thought flight was impossible. At one time people laughed if you told them that one day a man would walk on the moon. And who would ever believe that you could hold a computer in your hands? Incredible achievements—all of them. Yet, all these things were made possible because they were ideas whose time had come."
"And you think that the time has come for women to run the world?"
"And the Sisterhood is going to usher in this new Utopia?
For a moment Priscilla thought she saw hesitation in Danielle's eyes. The older woman seemed to be searching for the right words to say, her deliberations forcing her to come to a complete halt.
"Look," she said, gently grabbing Priscilla by the arm. "I'm not saying that the world is going to be perfect with women running things. But it sure is going to be a lot less bloody. Right now society is going through a tremendous upheaval. I'm sure you can feel it, these winds of change. All around the world women, both Sisters and others, have positioned themselves in places of power and very soon we are going to be running things."
"Men are not just going to relinquish their control."
"They'll have no choice because we now have a united populace behind us. Believe it or not, most men are sick of war and would rather devote their lives to more productive purposes. All I'm asking of you is to think about what I've said. That's all."
The two women talked for a short while longer before Danielle had to return to her office. Suddenly being safe and secure wasn't the wonderful thing Priscilla had thought it was. She had a lot of thinking to do.
Eddie Schwartz was a likeable fellow: gregarious, intelligent, and a snappy dresser. However, he also could be insensitive and selfish. These latter traits were not displayed very often but, when they were, it was always with the intent to verbally destroy the other person. Failing that, he would simply use his prodigious talent for tastelessness by ridiculing someone for no other reason than that it provided him with a sense of perverse pleasure. Priscilla had witnessed this distasteful behavior more than once, and with more than one person, and it troubled her. She herself had never suffered the indignity of being ridiculed or reprimanded by Eddie, and she hoped she never would. He was very good to her in many ways and she had, so far, managed to overlook his faults in favor of his many good points. Eddie was, after all, a very charming guy. He was tall, blonde, and blue-eyed, and possessed of a keen sense of humor. He was the kind of guy you just liked right from the start, and she had fallen in love with him from almost the moment they met.
With the wedding only a few weeks away, Priscilla put any disturbing thoughts about her future husband out of her mind in deference to the more practical matters associated with her upcoming marriage. There was still much to do and she never liked to leave things up to others if she could help it. It was more or less a matter of control: Priscilla simply liked to be at the helm.
For her twenty-fourth birthday, Selma had arranged for her ex-husband, Eddie, and Claudia to come to the house for an intimate candlelight dinner. Priscilla had insisted that she didn't want a big party since her friends at work had already given her one. More than happy to oblige, Selma had only asked that Danielle be invited as well, to which Priscilla happily agreed.
"I'm so glad that you and Danielle have become such good friends," Selma said as she placed a bottle of chilled champagne onto the dinner table. "That woman is going places."
"Going places? Are you kidding, mom? She's already there."
"Well, yes, I suppose she is. It's a mystery to me where that girl gets all her energy."
Priscilla sat down into a comfortable chair and watched as her mother finished preparing the table. "She's a wonderful person, that's all I know—and very smart. And don't pretend that you weren't trying to play matchmaker with us."
"Yes, you. You've gone out of your way to encourage our friendship. Not that I mind. Danielle is really something else."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, she's got some really wild ideas floating around in her head."
"What kind of ideas?"
"You know...kind of like the things you talk about now and then. Sisterhood stuff, how men have ruined the world..."
Selma stopped herself in the midst of putting down a glass. "Ah, we won't be bringing up these issues at the table tonight I hope," she said with an air of dismay.
"I'm not going to say anything," Priscilla assured her. "I don't want to get dad started."
"Thank you," Selma sighed. "This house has seen enough drama."
The dinner was one of Selma's best. Roast turkey, new potatoes, asparagus, and cranberry sauce. This was followed by a double layer chocolate cake for desert. After dinner, Selma invited her guests to sit out on the lanai. Unbeknownst to Priscilla, she had brought out some old family photo albums that she wanted to share with everyone. When Priscilla saw the albums she froze. These were the albums that she thought would never see the light of day. Her fat, erstwhile self was lurking within the covers of some of those accursed albums! But worse yet, Selma was handing Eddie the blue photo album, which contained pictures of her when she was in her pristine and fat, preteen years. Before she could do anything, Eddie was staring at the pictures inside, his lower jaw hung open in amazement.
"No!" he laughed aloud. "This isn't you is it, Prissy? Oh, my God! It is you!"
Priscilla gave her mother a dirty look. "Thanks a lot, mom. I really needed this."
"Oh, stop it," Selma said genially. "He's going to see them sooner or later."
"Shit! You were a really big girl there Prissy!" Eddie cried. "You never told me you were a fat kid!"
"It's not something I think my daughter would want to advertise," Alan said. "Anyway, she got her weight problem under control in no time. Didn't you sweetie?"
"Yes, dad. Eddie, would you mind not looking at the rest of those pictures?"
"Why, Prissy? There isn't anything to be ashamed of. I think they're kind of cute."
"I am anything but cute. Please put the album down."
Eddie didn't seem to be listening. He avidly examined each page looking for something to gawk at, and he found it. "God damn! Look at you here, Prissy! I had no idea."
Claudia looked over Eddies' shoulder to see what he was looking at. "Oh, she's not so big. You were already slimming down by then Priscilla."
"Slimming down?" Eddie chuckled. "You call that 'slimming down'?"
He held onto the book as if he were afraid it would be torn from his grasp at any moment. Looking through the photos one by one, relishing every picture as if it were some newfound treasure, he ignored Priscilla's request to abandon the book and selfishly guarded his prize.
Danielle stared at him with barely concealed contempt. Here she was, a big, beautiful woman herself, not fat in the traditional sense, but a big woman nonetheless, and this pusillanimous, insensitive jerk was poking fun of Priscilla simply because she was overweight. It angered her but she maintained her cool in spite of wanting to tell him off.
"It was a tough time for our daughter then," Selma said to Eddie. "Alan and I were going through a divorce."
"Mom, please." Priscilla whined. "Take the album away from him."
Begrudgingly, Selma reached out and took the offending book from Eddie's reluctant grasp. "You're so touchy, Priscilla. It's just Eddie."
"Just put the album away, please," Priscilla insisted.
"I don't understand what you're so upset about," Eddie said to his annoyed fiancé. "So you were fat. So what? It's no big deal."
"It's no big deal to you," Priscilla replied. "You have no idea what I was going through at the time. All you see is the physical manifestation of what was going on in my head. There's a lot of pain associated with those times, Eddie. Do you get it?"
"Okay, that's enough," Alan said, trying to clear the air. "Whatever it is, it's ancient history now. Let's forget it, shall we?"
Priscilla glanced at her father and sighed heavily. His dismissive attitude revealed a mentality that had refused to accept the fact that her pain was anything but "ancient history," as he called it, something that had no relevance to her present existence. In fact, the pain was still real and foundered just below the strata of her young life. She wondered how he could be so obtuse.
After everyone had left, Priscilla went to bed and lay awake for hours thinking about men, and all that Danielle had told her months ago about the Sisterhood. Her friend had been unusually quiet all evening, as if she were a bird that had found herself a high promontory from which to observe the landscape and make evaluations as to who the prominent players in the human scenario taking place below might be. Claudia, too, was rather quiet, only offering a word here and there to dispel any protracted silence. And there were a lot of them. But why? It was her birthday after all. Why did she feel such tension? Such anxiety? She fell asleep oblivious to the answer that stood waiting patiently at the door to her soul.
The Schwartz/Widener wedding was a splendid success and no one could have been happier than Priscilla herself, who had always dreamed of a December wedding. The night before it had snowed, so that there was a light blanket of white on the ground, and enough found its way onto the trees to make her wedding day look like a magical winter wonderland.
The couple spent their honeymoon in Barbados—two entire weeks of white sandy beaches and the best cuisine and night life that money could buy. As a wedding gift, Priscilla's parents had bought the newlyweds a beautiful Victorian house in Garden City. And when they had returned from their honeymoon, they took up residence immediately in the new house, which had been partially furnished with furniture that Priscilla and Eddie had bought before leaving for their tropical island getaway. By the time both newlyweds had returned to their respective jobs at WNYX, it seemed as though their lives were as complete and happy as they could be.
For the most part, Eddie was a conscientious husband. He still acted in a juvenile fashion at times, finding humor in other people's misfortunes, or using sarcasm as a self-defense mechanism, but Priscilla wrote his liabilities off as a holdover from his teen years. He had asked at one time if he could see her "fat" pictures, but she refused, telling him that she didn't want to be reminded of those difficult times. At first he acquiesced, but she later caught him looking through her hated "blue" album, and didn't speak to him for several days. Thereupon began a period of months where their conversations became little more than shouting matches, culminating in Eddie walking out on her one evening, returning only after an absence of three days for which he refused to provide an account. It was only after much pleading and many tears that she finally induced him to stay. But deep in her heart she felt deeply hurt; Eddie's subterfuge and lack of respect wounded her greatly and she wondered if that wound would ever heal.
It was exactly two months before their one-year anniversary that Priscilla received a phone call from Selma informing her that Alan had had a heart attack. It was 10:30 on a Saturday morning and she was just getting ready to go grocery shopping. Eddie was in Vermont visiting his parents at the time and she called to tell him the news just as she was leaving for the hospital. Showing some rare sensitivity, he offered to cut his visit short and come home, but Priscilla told him to stay put until she had learned more about her father's condition.
When she arrived at the hospital she found her mother sitting on a chair close to her father's bed, holding his hand in hers. He looked tired and haggard but he seemed cheerful and spoke to her in a soft, halting voice.
"Come over here and let me kiss you," he said to his daughter.
"Oh, daddy!" she cried, overcome with sadness at seeing her father so helpless.
She threw her arms open to him and embraced him passionately, tears flowing generously from her eyes.
"Are you feeling okay?" she demanded to know.
"The doctor told me that I'm going to be fine," he replied breathily. "But I have to slow down a little."
"You have to slow down a lot," Selma corrected him. She gently placed her free hand on her daughter's arm. "Your father is a stubborn man and never listened to me when I told him that he needed to take a break from his work. Now he has to."
"I never knew when to quit," he said, offering his ex-wife a wan smile.
"Now you do. You do want to be around for your grandchildren, don't you?"
"Yes, Selma," he said. "I would like that."
The three of them talked for a few minutes more until the nurse ordered them to leave. The following morning both ex-wife and daughter made the pilgrimage to the bedside of the stricken man. Priscilla had spoken to Eddie just before leaving for the hospital and informed him that Alan would be hospitalized for several more days, but that he was improving and in good spirits. Eddie seemed glad to hear the news but had no encouraging words to offer his distraught wife.
It was at some point during the afternoon that Alan asked Selma to leave him alone with Priscilla. She graciously heeded his request but seemed hesitant to leave. She threw her daughter a curious glance as she exited the room, but Priscilla only shook her head numbly, unaware of why her father had made the odd request. Once the door had closed behind her mother, she took her father's hand in hers and cajoled him.
"Shame on you, daddy! I thought you and mom were beyond keeping secrets from each other."
He smiled gently. "It's not a secret. I just want to have a heart to heart talk with you, baby. You can tell your mother if you want."
She squeezed his hand softly. "I'm listening."
Almost immediately the once formidable litigation attorney poured forth a litany of undiluted regret, condemning himself for his maltreatment of his daughter by reason of his devotion to his work and his subsequent absence thereupon from her life. In what seemed to her to be less than a few minutes, he managed to hurl upon her the culmination of a life spent in servile obedience to his own personal god of success, ignoring her and her mother to the point where all that mattered was achievement for its own sake, and the overweening pride it evoked.
"And look where all that hard work has gotten me?" he said forlornly. "I'm only 47 years old! But the worst of it is that I put you and your mother second to my career. All those years that I can't take back. Years that could have brought me closer to you."
Priscilla didn't know what to say. She could have easily hurled recriminations his way. A less sensitive child might have done just that—even in his weakened condition. Or she could simply forgive him and tell him to forget it. But then she would be lying, because she did truly feel that she had been neglected by him. Instead, she put her arms around his neck and told him not to worry; that he had fostered in her those intrinsic qualities that had helped her to succeed in life, and that was, in itself, a tremendous gift.
"But I should never have called you 'fat and lazy' when you were a kid. That was wrong of me and I want you to know that I am sorry, Priscilla. I am sorry for a lot of things, my beautiful child."
She felt her eyes swell up with tears as she pulled him closely to her. Why did it take you so long to tell me, daddy? She wondered. Why?
"Don't think about it now, dad," she said. "You should try to rest."
"I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you, and that I love you very much."
He hadn't told his daughter that he loved her in over a decade, and his words affected her beyond her capacity to verbalize. Instead, she responded by crying even harder and held him in her arms ever so tightly.
He caressed her hair as she lay next to him and in a little while she felt him drift off to sleep. That same evening, at just two minutes past midnight, the great burden of sorrow that he had carried inside his heart for most of his life became a weight to great to bear, and his spirit reluctantly departed from this life.
Priscilla didn't realize until many weeks later just how much she missed her father. His death created a vacuum in her life—a gaping hole that could not be filled. Although Alan was never close to his daughter, he was all she had, and she loved him, while all the time, in her young, facile mind, she made up the deficit he created by his seeming indifference in placing him high upon a pedestal, far from any malfeasance that any human being might inflict upon him—an untouchable demigod who sometimes showed his beneficent face to the child but most times did not. So far did she place him above her that any feelings she might have had, either positive or negative, were in direct proportion to the vast gulf of time and space she had apportioned between them. In so doing, the rare approbation he bestowed upon her was pristinely acknowledged, while the negative ramifications became likewise assuaged. Thus she achieved a certain level of emotional protection, which was reinforced by her self-imposed isolation.
She spent many nights acting out a recurring scenario in her head, seeing him standing before her casting a disapproving look her way when she, as a young girl, had failed to live up to his exacting standards. She would promise him that she would do better next time, and she did, but the praise never came; the fatherly pride in his child's achievements unrecognized. And then she would see him in his hospital bed, so frail and remorseful, and would speak to him in an adult voice, expressing her inner feelings to him until the words flowed from her mouth in a torrent of emotion, chastising him, and then forgiving him, for the years of neglect and selfish devotion to his own agenda. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but never had the courage to say. Now it was too late. All she could do was act out the scenario in her head, night after night, finding no solace in the insidious, nocturnal activity.
As the weeks went on, she ate more and more and began to put on weight. She didn't even realize how much weight she had gained until Eddie mentioned it at the dinner table one evening. In his characteristic way he simply told her that she was "getting fat". There was no prelude to his announcement, no consideration of how she might feel or softening of the blow, just a blunt, insensitive observation from a blunt, insensitive mind.
"I am not getting fat, Eddie," Priscilla retorted, eyes flaring. "I put on a few pounds, that's all."
"Babe," he replied, trying not to anger her. "It's okay. Forget I mentioned it."
She laughed scornfully. "How can I forget it? You just called me 'fat'.
"Please, let's not argue over it. I know you're going through a rough time."
"Well, that's unusually thoughtful of you, Eddie," she replied dolefully. Suddenly, the steak she was eating no longer looked appealing. "I'm depressed, alright? I had some unresolved issues with my dad. I'll get over it."
Eddie offered no reply. He continued to eat mechanically, sullenly looking up at her every so often as if to gauge her shifting mood.
"Besides, nobody at work mentioned that I was putting on weight," she resumed. "Not even Claudia."
"Maybe they don't want to hurt your feelings," he said without emotion.
Priscilla rose from her chair and flung the plate of half-eaten food into the sink, the dish making a harsh, crackling noise as it broke into pieces.
"Hurt my feelings?" she asked, turning on him. "Nobody has hurt my feelings, Eddie. Nobody but you!"
"Oh, come on babe!" he whined. "So you put on a little weight. I was just making an observation, that's all."
Priscilla stared down at him defiantly and stormed out of the kitchen. She was mad at herself for allowing her anxieties to take over her life, and mad at Eddie for speaking out loud what she had felt inside. Moments later she found herself standing on the bathroom scale—she had gained over ten pounds in the past few weeks. She looked at her face in the mirror. She was developing a double chin. It was barely noticeable, but it was there: a solemn reminder that she was now on a downward spiral and heading for even deeper waters.
By the time her one-year wedding anniversary was approaching, Priscilla had gained over forty pounds. She was now clocking in at about 220 pounds and most of this weight was distributed in her tits and ass. Her double chin was only slightly pronounced, but her face had lost its angular dimension and had become more rounded and fleshed out. No one at work said a word about her weight gain. Even Eddie kept quiet on the subject. But she had noticed that with the passing weeks he seemed to grow more distant and had only initiated sex with her twice in a one-month period. Not only was she depressed over the loss of her father, but now she was feeling unloved as well.
The only people with whom she confided in were her mother, Claudia, and Danielle. All three women were very helpful in their attempts to get her to stop her reckless eating habits, and with some professional help, she began to confront the demons that had been persecuting her since she was a child. And then, just as she was beginning to make some headway, she felt the rug pulled out from under her feet.
Claudia Olivetti, being a true friend and honest to a fault, felt it her obligation to report to Priscilla an event that took her completely by surprise. She had never really liked Eddie, but when she ran into him in a local sports bar kissing a strange blonde woman, she realized her intuition about him was right. It was Priscilla and Eddie's one-year anniversary and he was supposed to have been at lunch with some friends, which of course was a lie, and was going to be taking his wife out to dinner that very same evening to celebrate. All this Priscilla had conveyed to Claudia that morning before leaving for work. That Claudia saw him was itself a coincidence because she never frequented that particular bar and only did so because she needed change for the parking meter. When she saw Eddie kissing and fondling the blonde woman, she could only feel disgust for him. Yet she watched, even as the two of them left the bar and walked down 72nd Street toward the Ramada Inn. She followed after them and saw them enter the hotel. The last she saw of the couple was when they entered an elevator. She then decided to call Priscilla, suggesting that they meet at their favorite kiosk in Central Park.
The news struck Priscilla like a bolt of lightning. She would have never suspected Eddie of infidelity. Despite his crude manners, he seemed devoted to her, and the thought of him having sex with another woman was the last thing she could have imagined. For several minutes after hearing the news, she sat dumbly on the park bench shaking her head in disbelief.
"I wasn't going to tell you anything, Priscilla," Claudia said, trying to comfort her. "But I felt as though I'd be betraying you if I didn't."
"I know," Priscilla replied softly.
"The truth can be an ugly thing sometimes, but it's better than living a lie."
Priscilla stoically accepted her friend's rationale and smiled faintly. "Today is our one-year anniversary."
"I'm so sorry, honey," Claudia replied, throwing her arms around the unhappy girl's neck. "Eddie is a no good son of a bitch."
As strange as it seemed to her, Priscilla didn't cry. Her tears had flowed freely enough for her father, but Eddie's repugnant behavior provoked no such reaction within her. Instead she felt a great surge of anger overcome her; not the violent anger that compels one to act rashly and without thought, but the kind of anger that breeds revenge—a patient, willful, exacting revenge.
"Was she at least pretty?"
"Not as pretty as you," Claudia answered. "And it looked like she dyed her hair."
Despite her anger, Priscilla couldn't suppress a laugh, which forced Claudia to laugh too.
"That bastard always had a thing for blondes. I hope she gives him venereal disease!"
"I have to tell my mother what's going on," Priscilla said, her voice suddenly turning solemn. "And Danielle too. Eddie is not going to get away with this. I'm going to teach that fucking asshole a lesson he'll never forget!"
The lights had been on until well into the wee hours of the morning as Priscilla, Claudia, and Danielle sat around contemplating the best way to pay back Eddie for his cheating ways. Priscilla had feigned illness so that she could leave work without having to confront her husband. She left a message with his secretary that she would call him later in the day, which of course she had no intention of doing. She and Claudia had gone straight to Danielle's house and all three had eaten dinner together and then spent the rest of the evening thinking up myriad ways in which to bring Eddie to his knees.
"How many messages has he left you already?" Danielle asked Priscilla.
"Seven, so far. I'm not calling him. He can go to hell."
"Yeah," Claudia agreed. "Let the scumbag worry himself to death."
It was around 2:00 a.m. that Danielle was suddenly struck with a novel idea. With one great burst of energy, she jumped up out of her chair and raised a pointed finger to the ceiling. "I've got it ladies! I've got it!" she exclaimed, grinning fiendishly.
"What? What?" Priscilla demanded to know.
"Do you remember that drug that Mary Douglas gave me some time ago? You know...the Inferitol stuff?"
"What of it?"
"Well, I was thinking. What if we gave some of it to Eddie?"
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I am. I'll call a meeting of the 'Larger than Life' group—all my big, beautiful women friends whom your cheating bastard of a husband would refer to as "fat," and we'll pretend that you're waiting for him here so that you two can make amends."
"That means that Prissy is going to have to tell him everything," Claudia said.
"That's right. She can't go on forever avoiding him."
Priscilla balked. "But I don't want to see him or talk to him."
"You have to, Priscilla. It's part of my plan. Call him now and tell him that you know that he's been cheating on you and get him to come here tomorrow night. Tell him you can't see him just now because you're hurt and angry. When he gets here you two can talk and I'll slip the drug into his drink. I'll have the girls hiding out in the back yard. When you're ready we'll pull our surprise on him."
Suddenly the thought of Eddie surrounded by a bunch of big women appealed to her. "Do you think he'll come?"
"If he has any feelings for you at all, he'll come."
Claudia threw her head back and laughed. "Can you imagine Eddie under the influence of that drug? Can I stand the excitement?"
"He'll be shocked and humiliated. He deserves no better," Danielle affirmed.
"No," Priscilla agreed. "He doesn't. Let's get the son of a bitch."
The following evening Eddie's car pulled up into Danielle's driveway at precisely 7:00 p.m. She greeted him at the door and led him into the parlor, where he found Priscilla calmly waiting for him. He was still dressed in his business attire but the tie was gone and his shirt was wide open. He was perspiring heavily.
"I'll leave you two alone," Danielle said as she exited the room.
For several seconds neither of them said a word, they just stared at each other looking uncomfortable. At last, Eddie spoke up.
"Who told you?" he asked.
"That is irrelevant," Priscilla said coldly. "That fact that you betrayed me is all that matters. Why did you do it, Eddie? Why?"
It was unusual for Eddie to be at a loss for words, but he was. He looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet as if trying to erase a bad memory. "I don't know why I did it. I just did."
"Oh, come on," Priscilla said, her voice dripping with scorn. "There had to be a reason. Have you fallen out of love with me?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know."
"Or was it because I didn't excite you sexually anymore?"
"I don't know. I don't know!" he protested loudly.
"I think you do know," she said reproachfully. "You think I'm a fat pig, don't you? Go ahead Eddie, say it. Tell me to my face that putting on forty pounds of flesh has turned you off on me."
Eddie swallowed hard. "I...I didn't think it would," he stammered. "But you look so different now with all that weight on. Don't get me wrong. I still like you. You know, I like your mind and personality and all that but..."
"But I'm fat," she concluded dourly.
Eddie said nothing. He just stood there mutely and stared down at his shoes.
His admission was no real surprise to Priscilla. She had known for a very long time that he had a problem with fat people in general. Who was she to be exempt from his prejudice?
"You know, Eddie, you are a real asshole," she continued, raising her voice in anger. "Do you know that? You've got things backwards. My mind, my personality...those are the things you should be in love with, not my physical appearance. You can go and fuck as many thin blondes as you want, but you'll be searching in vain if you ever think you're going to find the kind of love I gave to you. My love was real. My love was true. It was real because I loved you for you! Not for your body or your money or whatever other qualities people think are so fucking important. And you threw it all up in my face by doing what you did yesterday—and on our anniversary no less! Eddie Schwartz, you are a fucking loser!"
Her words hit him as if he had suffered a physical blow. He took a few steps backwards and fell into a chair, his head resting in his hands.
It was not the way Danielle had planned this meeting to go. Upon hearing Priscilla's heated words she came into the room carrying a bottle of champagne and two filled glasses, one of them containing the fertility drug.
"I'm sorry," Danielle said apologizing. "I heard you shouting and hoped that maybe some wine would help settle your nerves."
"I'll take some," Eddie said, reaching for the proffered glass.
He drank down the contents in one gulp.
"I don't want any, thank you," Priscilla said to Danielle.
The two women looked at each other knowingly and Danielle left the room without another word.
"Do you have anything to say to me?" Priscilla inquired of her husband.
"What do you want me to say?" he replied, feebly.
"How about 'I'm sorry'?"
"What good would that do? The damage has been done."
She looked at him and shook her head numbly. "Do you love me?"
For the first time that evening Eddie found the courage to look her directly in the eyes. "No," he replied. "I don't think I've been in love with you since you started to let yourself go."
It was a truthful but nonetheless heartless remark that cut her to the quick. But instead of offering a rebuttal, she called for Danielle, who came running into the room within seconds.
"Do you know, Danielle," Priscilla said without taking her eyes off her husband, "that I've let myself go? That's what my husband thinks."
"Is that so?" Danielle replied, casting an unfavorable glance upon the seated man. "I think you look just beautiful."
"Only another 'big' woman would say that," the insensitive clod remarked. "Being fat is not beautiful."
"And only a person such as you would be unable to see that both terms are not mutually exclusive."
"Well, Priscilla's got a pretty face. I'll give her that. But she's let the rest of her body go to hell—same as you."
Danielle felt like striking the insolent man across his face but kept her temper in check. "You have a bias against big, beautiful women?"
"I have a bias against any woman who can't control her mouth, whether that's eating too much or talking too much."
The deliberate emphasis upon "talking" was not wasted on Danielle. "So it seems we big, beautiful women just do everything too much, is that it, Eddie?"
"Look," he said, as if trying to drive home his point, "being overweight is not attractive. I don't care how nice a person you are. The human body doesn't look right with all that extra flesh hanging off it. You big, beautiful women, as you call yourselves, are only half right—and that's about being big, or fat, or whatever you want to call it. To me you're all just a bunch of fat broads who don't know when to put the fork down."
Danielle had heard enough. She turned to Priscilla. "How did you ever wind up marrying this asshole?"
"He thought I was beautiful once."
"That's right babe, I did," Eddie affirmed with a smarmy smile. "But that's when you were thin and had things under control."
Priscilla was going to respond but was preempted by her friend. "So now Priscilla is out of control. Is that what you're saying?"
"I don't need to say it. Look for yourself."
Danielle stole a quick glance at her friend and picked up a nearby phone. She said a few words into it then hung up. "They're on their way," she said to Priscilla.
"Who's on their way?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're having a meeting of the 'Larger than Life' club tonight and you're going to be our guest of honor."
Eddie looked suspiciously at Danielle and then at his wife. "What's going on here?"
"I told you," Danielle replied. "Don't tell me that you're afraid to meet a few of my large friends. They won't eat you. I promise."
"Priscilla? What the hell is she talking about?"
"Just shut up, Eddie and take it like a man."
"Take what like a man?" he said, raising his voice. "I don't want to meet any of her friends."
"Oh, but they want to meet you!" Danielle said with a fiendish smile. "They know all about you. Priscilla told them everything. Come in girls!"
No sooner had she uttered those words than a large group of roughly one hundred women came walking slowly into the room, making a loud, clamoring noise as their heels impacted upon the wooden floor.
Eddie's face registered complete surprise as he watched the long procession of women pass before him, each one it seemed bigger than the one before, looking upon him as if he were a piece of vermin. "You've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed. "You guys set me up!"
"I strongly advise you not to leave the house, Eddie," Priscilla warned him. "You know that glass of champagne you just drank? It was full of Inferitol, the male fertility drug I told you about."
Suddenly Eddie's was face was drained of all its color. "You gave that shit to me?" he cried. "How could you do that? Why? Tell me why?"
"It's simple, Eddie," she countered. "It's called 'payback'."
At that moment Claudia, accompanied by three other very large and attractive women, entered the room pushing a large and imposing bedlike apparatus whose purpose was not immediately evident to either Priscilla or Eddie. Eddie was shocked to see the very thin and fit Claudia amongst the hefty group of women.
"You're part of all this?" he said to the beautiful girl.
"Surprised, Eddie?" Claudia laughed. "Don't you just hate surprises?"
The four women were dressed curiously like milk maids and one of them carried a clear, plastic, one-gallon container, which she purposely waved at Eddie. Another woman—Priscilla recognized her as Betty—held a cow's mask in her hands, which she, too, waved insouciantly at the dumbstruck husband. Eddie didn't know what to make of it all.
"What the fuck is going on here?" the philanderer demanded of Danielle.
"Allow me to clue you in, Eddie. You've got a lot of sperm building up in your testicles right now and it needs to be released. That's why we brought in the milking table. We're going to drain your body of every drop of sperm."
"You people must be out of your minds!" he cried.
"I assure we are not," Danielle said calmly.
"You're going to drain my body of sperm?" he asked aghast. "In front of all these women?"
"Yes. And I gave you a double dose of the drug, so you'll be ejaculating for a very long time."
The startled man turned to the woman he once loved hoping to find some reassurance, but finding none in her placid expression, he tried to make a run for it. Before he could reach the door, a dozen women were upon him, forcing him onto the floor. At that point more women joined in the fray, punching him and tearing at his clothes until his body was completely denuded.
"Get the fuck off of me you bitches!" Eddie screamed, as he fought futilely to prevent his outright humiliation.
"Don't you dare call us bitches!" Betty snapped, hitting Eddie squarely in the face with the back of her hand. "The next time I'll kick you in your fucking balls!"
The women now took the naked man and forced him onto the milking table so that he was positioned on all fours with his penis and testicles half submerged into the clear, plastic container. A pretty Latino woman with a set of enormous tits took the cow's mask and placed it over his face.
"Moo for us like a cow!" she ordered the confused man while she cruelly pinched his nipples.
"Oww!" Eddie screamed as she twisted the sensitive flesh between her fingertips.
"Not 'Oww' you idiot! I want you to say, 'Moo'! Now say it or I'll tear your nipples off!"
Eddie obediently fell to making the silly sounds she demanded of him while his arms and legs were secured with leather straps. Priscilla recognized several women right away. Besides Betty, there was Allison, Lindsay, and Madison, all of whom were having a grand time watching the cheating husband get his comeuppance. They taunted him mercilessly and called him every vulgar name one could think of. Some of the women slapped his ass as they ridiculed him, and Priscilla chuckled to herself when her husband let out a loud yelp after each hit.
After several minutes of this abuse, Danielle ordered everyone to stop.
"Enough!" she said. "The drug should take effect any moment now."
Priscilla quickly made her way through the crowd of women and stood before her kneeling husband whose bottom was still smarting from the spanking he'd just received. She found it difficult to feel any pity for him.
"Priscilla," he muttered, his eyes peering out at her from the two holes in the ridiculous cow mask. "Don't let them do this to me. I don't deserve to be treated like this."
"It's not so bad," Priscilla replied coolly. "The drug will wear off in about an hour or so and you can go home and contemplate your sins."
"But this is humiliating! Look at me! Strapped into these bars and forced to be milked...like a cow!"
His remark caused everyone to laugh, including Priscilla. "Look at it this way, Eddie. If it were up to Danielle, she would have cut off your balls."
"And I might just do the same, you cheating son of a bitch!" Madison said to Eddie as she fondled his balls menacingly.
His protestations aside, the entire audience of women applauded and cheered Priscilla's comment. And just as the cheering began to subside, a distinct change came over Eddie: his prick was rapidly getting hard.
"Look at that!" Lindsay said, pointing to the growing monstrosity. "It's starting!"
Eddie watched in morbid fascination as his penis, seemingly with a mind of its own, began to bob back and forth as it grew both in length and girth before an astonished audience. His normal penis size was somewhere around seven inches, but the drug artificially enhanced his size to an astoundingly abnormal fifteen inches, causing Eddie to shrink from it in horror.
"What have you done to me?" he squealed as his prick now reached its full, imposing size.
"Ladies," Danielle said in a calm, professional tone, "this drug is so powerful that it will force the penis to ejaculate its supply of semen without any physical stimulation whatsoever. However, the ejaculation will be much more robust if the penis is force-milked. Milk maids, take your places."
Claudia, Betty, the Latino woman, and a very heavy gray-haired woman of about fifty grabbed Eddie's huge prick and began to masturbate it furiously. Keeping the tip of his penis aimed into the container below, they coaxed his sperm-laden balls to release its agitated load.
"I'll bet you never thought I'd be stroking your cock, did you Eddie?" Claudia jibed.
"Neither did I!" Priscilla noted as her friend's hand moved up and down with lightning speed over her husband's turgid prick.
A few seconds later and Eddie cried out as his cock reared back and fired one volley of cum after the other into the waiting receptacle beneath him. The entire crowd burst out laughing as he sent dozens of creamy ropes splashing into the container, coating the sides and bottom with his thick, white spunk.
"Oh, look at that!" Danielle laughed as one particular volley of sperm missed its target completely and shot up into the air. The sticky effluence landed in the Latino woman's hair, causing her to whack Eddie's already glowing ass several times.
For his part, Eddie watched the women's hands move over his genitals as though his body was totally under their control and not his. This unnatural feeling of displacement forced him to remain quite still even as they aggressively teased out a series of potent ejaculations. A full minute into the handjob and his prick was still shooting out the white stuff, much to the delight of his audience.
"God, what a load!" Allison remarked, as she watched yet another stringy offering land into the receptacle.
It took about two minutes for Eddie's balls to be completely drained. To the utter amazement of everyone, the container was now almost half full. For this feat, the giddy crowd responded with a huge round of applause. Danielle ordered the women to remove the container and then had them make Eddie lie down on the milking table to recuperate, although his hands and feet remained fastened. His entire naked body was covered in sweat and he was breathing hard and fast.
"Are you all right, Eddie?" Priscilla asked, suddenly feeling a trace of latent affection for her wayward husband.
"I...I guess so," he replied, taking in huge gulps of air. "Could you please take this mask off of me and give me some water?"
Priscilla did as he requested. Setting the silly cow's mask aside, she had Claudia fetch a glass of cold water and then held it to his lips as he greedily drank the liquid. "You're going to go through all this again in a few minutes so just relax," she told him as she watched the water disappear.
Eddie moaned. "You must really hate me to put me through all this shit."
"I don't hate you. Well, maybe a little, for what you did to me. But you asked for this, and now you're going to have to deal with it."
Betty, who was standing next to Priscilla, overheard their conversation and gave Eddie's ear a vicious tug. "If I were up to me, I'd have you roasted on a spit!"
"You've always been way too easy on him, Prissy," Claudia said. "I don't have any sympathy for him whatsoever."
"I don't either," Lindsay said to Eddie. "Cheating on your wife is bad enough, but to insult the dignity of the big and beautiful is sacrilege. You're lucky to be alive."
The prostrate man offered no retort to the barrage of insults and threats that soon followed. He simply lay there looking like a scared rabbit, afraid that at any time his exposed genitals might become the target of their collective anger.
But now, the short interval of time between the last ejaculation and the one to come was over. The drug was now reasserting itself and the physical results were reflected in Eddie's quickly hardening cock.
"This is so fucking embarrassing!" the naked man wailed as his cock expanded to new heights.
"You're only getting what you deserve," Danielle reminded him.
It amused the women to watch his prick grow before their eyes. Some of them tugged on his cock or pinched his scrotum playfully. Others slapped his engorged penis with malicious intent, laughing as the towering phallus rocked back and forth under the force of their blows. Despite the maltreatment of his penis, a thin rivulet of pre-cum began to form at the tip.
"Look at this!" said a short, brunette woman with tits that hung down to her navel. "This fucker is getting ready to shoot off again!"
"Let's let his cock enjoy another hands-free orgasm ladies!" Danielle giggled. "I want all of you to see just how potent Inferitol really is."
Mary Douglas was enjoying the spectacle. It reminded her of an incident that had transpired last year at her own company when her CEO was put through a similar trial. She had been the ringleader of the operation that had brought him down, and now she exulted in seeing another miserable male Cretan face the same fate. "I would advise you girls to stand back a little," she advised the excited women. "His cum is going to fly pretty high up."
Some of the women gingerly followed her advice, but some of them refused to budge.
"I want a ringside seat," the Latino woman said, exposing her tits to Eddie. "I want you to shoot your fucking cum all over my big tits!"
The entire crowd erupted into laughter. A few other women also exposed their huge breasts to him, including the short brunette. "I want to see these nipples dripping with your juice!" she exclaimed, shoving one of her mammoth tits in his face.
Eddie could only give her nominal attention as his cock was getting ready to fire its second load of the evening. Suddenly gripped by a force beyond his control, his entire body stiffened in response to the unyielding drug that now held him captive. As he thrust his hips upward he cried out like a wounded animal, releasing a long, arcing jet of hot sperm far up into the air. Everyone's eyes followed the trajectory of the ejaculation, which flew over twenty feet high above their heads and splashed into Danielle's crystal chandelier. This was soon followed by a series of multiple blasts that flew out at dizzying speed into the audience.
The first to get hit was the Latino woman, whose ample breasts were literally awash in Eddie's cum. How she managed to position herself in front of his unaided cock so that every area on and around her nipples was saturated with sperm, surprised everyone. But she managed to do it despite the apparent difficulty. The short brunette, with her obscenely huge jugs, didn't have to be as precisely positioned as her counterpart since the massive size of her breasts encountered no problem in attracting rope after rope of Eddie's joy juice, either on its way up into the air or on its downward trajectory. The two women laughed hysterically as they fought to get their portion of semen while the crowd frantically cheered them both on.
"Spurt, spurt, spurt..." Danielle laughed as she counted the myriad ejaculations flying out of Eddie's cock. "That drug is really something else, Mary."
"We should all thank the woman who invented it," Mary replied, delighted to see the drug performing so well. "I love watching a man lose control this way. Oh wow! Look at how far that one went!"
Danielle watched in amused fascination as the ejaculation Mary referred to shot out over the heads of the crowd and ended up splashing into a window over thirty feet away.
"Fucking amazing!" Mary exclaimed. "Did you see that, Danielle?"
"I saw it but I can't believe it. I've never seen any man shoot his load that distance. It's incredible."
The fifteen-inch monster prick continued to fire volley after volley of semen, much of which, besides landing on the women themselves, fell right back down on Eddie's lower body. His thighs and legs were completely inundated with his spunk. He could hardly believe what was happening to him. Not only was his prick under the control of some exotic drug, spitting out his vital juices all without the aid of anyone's hand, he had been, in effect, reduced to nothing more than a sexual object for these overweight, obnoxious women who were literally going to drain him dry for their own perverted amusement. Everywhere he looked he could not avoid their laughing, jeering faces, and their humongous tits that surrounded him on every side. He felt both humiliated and sexually excited at the same time, and he hated himself for it.
"Whoa!" Allison laughed as she watched Eddie's prick send forth another long burst of cream. "There goes another one!"
"Keep them going, Eddie!" Betty encouraged him. "Let's see some more of those big, long ropes!"
Eddie could do nothing else but oblige. Sometimes his ejaculations were long, drawn-out explosions that were shot off at regular intervals. Other times the ejaculations took the form of rapid and messy affairs that resulted in a series of staccato bursts, which entertained the women most of all. These type of ejaculations lasted for several seconds when they occurred, and they reminded Priscilla of someone turning a water spout off and on in rapid succession. The overall effect was hilarious to watch.
"It's like a cum geyser!" one lady exclaimed.
"Fabulous!" another cried. "Look at it all! There's so much!"
Priscilla just stood there and looked on in complete amazement as her husband's orgasm provided the women with a level of entertainment that had never been witnessed before.
Finally, it all came to a halt. The immense orgasm Eddie had endured lasted for less than two minutes, but it felt to him like it had gone on for hours. As the last of his ejaculations began to subside, he groaned loudly and his entire body fell limp. His lower body, the bodies of the women standing closest to him, the floor around the milking table, the chandelier, the window and areas of the surrounding wall, were all tainted with his salty, copious offering. It had been an exemplary performance.
"What a fucking mess!" Claudia said to Danielle. "Did you know it was going to be this bad?"
"Of course. But I'm having the entire room redecorated in a few days, so who cares?"
For the next five minutes Eddie was allowed to rest. At his behest, Priscilla removed him from his leather confines and he was permitted to have something to eat and drink. He looked as if he had gone through a 10-round boxing match.
"I don't mind telling you that you look like shit," Priscilla told him as he drank down the last of his soda.
"But at least I put on a good show, right?"
"It's not over yet, buster."
"I don't think I can go on like this much longer. I'll probably have a fucking heart attack. Is that what you want?"
"What I want is for you to keep these women entertained. You do that and you just might get away with your balls intact."
"But how much more of my sperm can I give? My body feels like a wasteland already."
"I guarantee you that feeling will pass in less than a minute."
Sure enough, as if like clockwork, Eddie's penis once again rose to the occasion, obstinately refusing to obey the will of its master. "When will you fucking bitches be satisfied?" he exclaimed, directing his comment to those women in his immediate vicinity.
"We'll tell you when we're satisfied," one of the women replied. "You just keep your damn mouth shut!"
Now that Eddie's hands were free, he found himself compelled to take his raging penis in hand and stroke it. This he did, to the amusement of everyone.
"I can't fight it!" he cried, as his right hand flew up and down his swollen prick with great speed.
All eyes were upon him now, waiting for his release. Within seconds he was ejaculating once again, sending vast amounts of hot liquid seed sailing over the heads of the women and in all directions.
"What a fucking pervert you are, Eddie!" Claudia laughed, as she watched rope after rope of his sticky cum shoot up high into the air.
The women laughed hysterically as the hot jets of semen were launched out into the air, sometimes reaching a distance of twenty, even thirty, feet. Most of all they laughed at his facial expressions, which captured the amazement and disbelief at his newfound ejaculatory capabilities. Eddie stood before them like a statue permanently frozen in position, the only thing moving was his hand as it energetically pumped out one wad of cum after another for the viewing pleasure of his titillated female audience.
"How lovely!" a cheerful 60-ish looking woman said to Priscilla. "To see a man so controlled like that. And all that cum!"
"I love it!" Priscilla laughed, enjoying the rapid bursts of semen shooting out at incredible speed from her husband's tool. "Now he knows what it's like to be at our mercy."
The woman laughed along with Priscilla as the white-hot spurts of milky cream flooded the area in and around Eddie's feet.
At that moment, the short brunette woman approached Priscilla and whispered in her ear.
"I hope you won't think me rude," the woman began. "My name is Angelica and I really want to fuck your husband."
At first Priscilla was taken aback and looked at the woman to see if she was serious or joking.
"I mean it," Angelica continued. "I really want to fuck him."
Priscilla thought about it for a moment and finding that she really didn't care one way or another, told the woman to do as she wished. "Go fuck his damn brains out for all I care."
As Eddie's orgasm once more subsided, Priscilla introduced Eddie to Angelica and was told what he must do.
"You want me to fuck you?" he said to Angelica who had now removed her panties and was getting ready to mount him.
"Only until you're ready to cum. Then I want you to pull out and let me give you a tit job so that all my friends can watch you spurt all over my tits."
Eddie thought she was attractive enough, so he didn't really care one way or another. He was going to have to continue performing for these fat sluts anyway so what did it matter?
Sure," he said to her. "Whatever you want."
To the deafening roar of the crowd, Angelica grabbed Eddie's huge tool and inserted it into her vagina. He remained seated as she sat in his lap facing away from him. Her huge but tantalizing ass bounced up and down on his monstrous cock, bringing it ever closer to yet another mind-boggling orgasm.
"Go for it, Angelica!" Allison screamed. "Milk that fucking dick dry!"
The big woman's breasts swayed manically to and fro as she rhythmically and persistently rode his penis. Eddie looked at Priscilla, wondering if she felt at all jealous, but she remained unmoved, even when Angelica, sensing that Eddie was about to ejaculate, jumped off his lap and took his prick between her tits and gave him the final coup de grâce.
All the women gaped in amazement as a fountain of lush, white cream spurted from the tip of Eddie's tool and shot up ten feet into the air above Angelica's head. As she jiggled her monster globes up and down, she produced a continued series of cum shots, each one more voluminous than the one before it. Angelica laughed gaily as she coaxed out the thick, milky loads, a good portion of which landed squarely on her breasts. Eddie looked like he could barely breathe.
"Get her boobs all messy with your jizz, you bastard!" Claudia said to Eddie.
"Yeah!" Lindsay exclaimed. "Jizz up those twin beauties you lying fuck!"
Eddie had no problem complying with their wishes. Soon, both of Angelica's tits were saturated with his sperm.
It took Eddie about a minute to complete his orgasm, and with each successive ejaculation his sperm supply seemed to diminish until, at last, he had no more to give. Danielle and Mary calculated that his body had produced no less than a gallon of Inferitol-produced spunk thus far, with the bulk of it either adorning the bodies of the women themselves, or landing onto the floor, walls, and ceiling of Danielle's parlor. He had still more to give.
After another several rounds of sperm-depleting performances, which also involved Eddie being forced to perform cunnilingus on two particularly obese women, his final task was to perform fellatio upon himself and then to eat his own cum.
"No," he insisted. "I won't do it!"
"Yes, you will, you little piece of shit!" Betty admonished him. "Or we'll force feed it down your goddamn throat!"
Eddie glared at the woman, wishing he could tape her mouth shut and put her on a starvation diet. He wondered what she'd look like about fifty pounds lighter. "Go fuck yourself, you fat pig!" he spat.
Betty raised her right foot up intending to kick him in the face when Danielle interceded.
"That's enough! Betty, ease up." She turned to Eddie. "I want to see you swallow every drop of cum that squirts out of your dick. Got it? If any sperm escapes your mouth, you will lick it up off the floor. If you refuse, I'll have to let Betty do a little tap dance on your face." She looked at Betty who once again raised her foot up and pointed it toward his head. "You understand me?"
Eddie shook his head in compliance and said nothing.
It took him about a half hour to once again feel the effects of the drug, but when the drug kicked in, he knew it would be no different than before. He could feel the sperm building up in his bloated testicles. It was as if his scrotum had become a cistern and from somewhere deep within him the drug was forcing the replication of sperm at an unprecedented rate. Once again his prick responded as expected, growing to its full fifteen-inch length. Reluctantly, he started to suck on the tip of his cock until he got into a slow rhythm, using his tongue in inventive ways to add some variation to his task. The women urged him on mercilessly, insulting him, ridiculing him, and using every means possible to degrade him in front of his wife.
As she watched him engage in this lewd activity, Priscilla wondered how she ever had come to love this man. Could she have been so blind as to not see his many faults? Was it love that accounted for this failure to recognize what now seemed to her so patently obvious? If so, maybe it was better to live without it.
Within minutes Eddie's prick was on the verge of coming. To keep him from removing his mouth at the moment of ejaculation, Priscilla held his head down with both hands, forcing him to take more of his cock into his mouth. And then the giant prick exploded.
Eddie's cheeks swelled with the onrush of sperm and he had to swallow very fast to keep any of it from escaping. But he soon found that this was a futile endeavor. There was simply too much sperm and it was being ejaculated at much too fast a rate for his mouth to accommodate it all. Soon, little rivulets of cum flowed down his chin and onto the floor beneath him. And then it all became too much for him to handle. Breaking free of his wife's grasp, he pulled his mouth away from his spurting tool and got his face drenched with the sticky liquid as it shot up into his eyes, nose, and hair. The women laughed with glee at the sight of it, and no one laughed more than Priscilla herself, who was thrilled to see her husband's infidelity punished in such a fashion. By the time he had finished ejaculating, there was a substantial pool of sperm on the floor and he was forced to lick up every drop.
"That's it, you fucking worthless piece of shit!" Betty said, as she and several other women pushed his face into the sticky mass. "Drink it all up!"
Once every drop of his disgusting semen was gone and the floor in front of him was sparkling clean and free of sperm, Eddie was allowed to get dressed and go home. He was completely ignored by everyone except his wife, who only gave him token attention.
"You know, you could have avoided all this if you had only been honest with me," Priscilla said to him.
"What can I tell you?" he replied, looking as if he were going to collapse at any moment. "I guess I'm just an asshole."
"Get the fuck out of here, Eddie."
Eddie looked at her dumbly, his strength completely sapped.
Being that it was now well after midnight and with Eddie being totally exhausted, he was clearly not in any condition to drive home. As a courtesy, which was only provided at Priscilla's request, the degraded man was driven home by Danielle's chauffeur. Priscilla and Claudia spent the evening at Danielle's house talking with each other until the sun came up. Priscilla was grateful for the two women's friendship, but all she wanted to do now was to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.
"So that's it. You guys are through."
"Yes, mom. It's over."
Priscilla had left Danielle's house after only a few hours' sleep. She was still agitated and she couldn't keep her husband's sordid affair a secret from her mother forever so she decided to reveal all to her as soon as possible. It was difficult going over the details of Eddie's perfidy, and she broke out into tears despite herself. She had decided to tell her mother nothing of what had transpired at Danielle's house and she knew Eddie well enough to know that he would not raise the issue for fear of being targeted as a pervert and a liar.
"I really can't believe it," Selma said as she handed her daughter a cup of coffee and pulled up a chair beside her at the kitchen table. "I really can't. He used to worship the ground you walked on."
Priscilla smiled faintly. "No mom. I wouldn't go that far."
"But certainly he loved you."
"In his own way I suppose he did. But he was in love with my body, not my soul."
"Have you thought about giving him a second chance?"
"Are you kidding? I can never trust him again. And where there is no trust, there is no love."
Selma reached out a hand to her daughter and petted her hair softly. "Your father never thought much of Eddie. I think he saw through him long before you and I did."
"That's for sure. Dad told me one time that Eddie was not the guy for me. I thought he was just being insensitive because he didn't like the guy, but I should have listened to him."
"When you love someone you look past their faults. We all do it. Don't be too hard on yourself. Now go to bed. You look exhausted."
Heeding her mother's advice, Priscilla fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. By noon she was wide awake, had taken a shower, and spent the afternoon with her mother shopping.
Eddie had made no attempt to call her but she knew that he wouldn't. He was too ashamed and humiliated to make any effort at contacting her so soon after his debasement. But she also knew that he would come back fighting, especially after her lawyer presented him with divorce papers.
In the meantime she enjoyed the company of her mother and Claudia, both of whom spent most of that Sunday afternoon with her. All she knew was that she didn't want to go to her own house and possibly run into Eddie. She was not prepared mentally for the difficult encounter she knew would arise once the two of them were alone together. Her mother advised her that it would be prudent not to return to her house until the divorce had become finalized and, in so doing, avoid any unpleasant entanglements. She took this advice to heart and decided to wait until the legal ramifications had been settled.
The following day she returned to work and immediately set about answering the barrage of e-mails she invariably found waiting for her each Monday morning. One of them was a reminder that Eddie was going to be honored at a business luncheon on Tuesday—that was tomorrow! As both his wife and his subordinate, she would be expected to appear. There was no way out of it. She had to go. It was still only 8:30 a.m. and she knew he would be at his desk. She decided to confront him.
When she got to his office she found him playing a video game. He was too preoccupied to notice that she had entered the room.
"Eddie, I have to talk to you."
He turned around in his chair and gave her a quick once over. His face gave no indication of what might be going on in his mind. "What do you want?" he said, coldly.
"I've spoken to my lawyer. You're going to be served with divorce papers in a few days. I just wanted you to know that."
"Thanks for the heads up," he replied without any feeling. "I suppose you want the house?"
"No, I don't. We can sell it and split the profits, but I don't want to live there any longer."
"Whatever you want, Prissy."
"And there's one other thing. I'm going to the luncheon tomorrow because I know that you are getting a promotion and I don't want to ruin things for you by telling everyone we're getting a divorce."
"That's very civil of you, Prissy. Anything else?"
"No, that's all."
She was just about to leave when she heard him laugh to himself. "What's so funny?" she asked.
"I was just thinking of how I'm going to repay your fat friends—and you too, Prissy—for what you did to me the other night. This is not over. I'm going to make your life a living hell."
"I'm not afraid of you, Eddie," she replied calmly. "And if you go through with any of your threats, I'll see that you pay dearly. And I'm not talking about getting you to jerk off for a bunch of my 'fat' friends."
"We'll see about that," he said smugly. "Now get to work and stop wasting my time."
The day went by slowly and all she could think about was what devious scheme her soon-to-be ex-husband was concocting in that selfish brain of his, and what impact it might have upon her life. In any case, it did not bode well. Eddie might be a braggart, but his talk was usually backed up by action.
As much as she disliked the idea of attending the luncheon, especially now that Eddie had intimated retaliatory action upon her and her friends, she felt it her duty to maintain her integrity and not to let her own vengeful impulses reduce her to the level of her husband's own childlike mendacity. But once that act had been carried out, she felt no further obligation to him. And no one could ever point a finger at her and claim that she had acted in anything but an honorable way.
The following day Priscilla, along with her secretary and a few of her friends from work, took a cab to the Ritz Carlton hotel in Battery Park to attend the luncheon given in Eddie's honor.
When Priscilla entered the main ballroom with her friends they found the company president, the CEO, half of the station's staff, and even a few people from their affiliated stations from as far as Boston, in attendance. Eddie was seated in the center of the dais facing in front of the window. To his right was Mr. Wells, the president of WNYX and to his left sat Mildred Swan, the station's CEO. There was some light cocktail music provided by a jazz trio and a buffet was set up to accommodate the guests. Priscilla and her friends sat down at a table reserved for them next to the dais and waited for the ceremony to begin.
About five minutes later the music stopped and Mr. Wells stood up and addressed the crowd.
"I can't begin to tell you how much Eddie Schwartz has meant to our company. Not only has he provided us with some of the most outstanding editorial reporting for the past six years, but he has helped to keep WNYX in its first-place position in the ratings. His dedication, intrepid journalism, and his unswerving devotion to the truth have earned him a promotion to Chief Editorial Director of WNYX and its affiliates worldwide."
His speech was interrupted by a round of applause as Eddie sat back and drank it all in.
"Eddie, without sounding patronizing, I'm proud of you," continued Mr. Wells. "And we are here today to celebrate your accomplishments and wish you much continued success."
Another round of applause greeted the president as he sat down and motioned for Eddie to say a few words. Eddie got up, looking dapper in his three-piece, gray business suit, and looked out into the crowd.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Wells," he began. "It's no surprise to anyone who has known me for any length of time that I am dedicated to my job here at WNYX. I love the people, the atmosphere, and especially the work. As my beautiful wife Priscilla can tell you, I eat, sleep, and live for WNYX. There is no place I would rather be..."
Suddenly his voice trailed off and he looked down at his crotch.
"Is something wrong my boy?" Mr. Wells asked him.
"No sir, I'm fine. I just..."
Again, the odd sensation came over him. He knew what it was when he clenched his legs together and reached down to grab his cock. For several seconds he remained silent while everyone simply stared at him in wonder.
"What's wrong with you, Eddie?" Ms. Swan asked. "Do you feel ill?"
"No, not now!" he roared, masturbating himself through his pants. It wasn't enough.
Unable to stop himself, he unzipped his fly and pulled out his erect prick. "I can't help it! It's the goddamn drug!"
Priscilla was shocked to see him savagely begin stroking his huge penis in front of the crowd. The television crew who were filming kept their cameras running as the audience exploded with laughter. Mr. Wells tried to quell the disruption but it was useless.
"What the fuck is wrong with him, Priscilla?" one of her friends asked. "Is he insane?"
"No, he's been taking some drugs for his erection problems," she replied, chuckling to herself. "I guess he took an overdose."
"Well aren't you going to do something?"
"There is nothing anyone can do. Don't worry. It'll be over soon."
Suddenly a thick jet of sticky sperm shot out into the crowd and landed in Mr. Wells' wife's salad bowl. The elderly woman screamed and ran out of the room, her friends trailing behind her. Other ejaculations followed one after the other as Eddie's fellow employees stood in awe at the sight of his exploding dick.
Mr. Wells, seeing that he could do nothing to stop Eddie, ordered several of his male employees to force Eddie to the ground. Three men acted quickly to bring the horrified man to the floor as his cum continued to shoot long ropes of sperm everywhere. Within minutes the house detective arrived followed by several policemen who took Eddie into custody. During all this time Priscilla kept her composure, even when her husband was led away.
"Aren't you going with your husband?" Ms. Swan asked Priscilla.
"The truth is Ms. Swan that Eddie and I are getting a divorce."
"Oh," the woman replied. "Well, I can certainly understand that!"
On the following day, Priscilla, Claudia, and Mary all met at Danielle's office for lunch. Priscilla's friends had a good laugh when she related to them the details of Eddie's aborted luncheon dinner.
"If Eddie hadn't been such an asshole," Mary confessed, "I would have told him not to leave the house for a few days because of the side effects of the drug—one of them being uncontrollable urges to masturbate!"
"I wish you guys had been there," Priscilla laughed. "You should have seen the look on his face when he realized what was happening. And Mr. Wells! That's Eddie's boss. He nearly had a heart attack watching Eddie jerk that big sausage of his in front of the entire staff."
"And I heard that Mrs. Wells go some really creamy salad dressing thanks to Eddie," Claudia added. "And she was sitting about twenty-five feet away."
"Inferitol can do that to a man," Mary giggled. "Long and far. Long and far."
"That's quite a story!" Danielle said, hanging on every word. "So what happened at work this morning, Priscilla? The station must have been reeling from the incident."
"It's the talk of the town! I sincerely doubt Eddie will get that promotion now. In fact, I'd be surprised if Mr. Wells doesn't give him the sack."
"I assume Eddie was not at work."
"Are you kidding? He won't dare show his face now. But the camera guys got the whole event on video. And I have a copy with me!"
The girls all squealed at once.
"We have to see it!" Claudia exclaimed.
"You will. You will." Priscilla assured her. "I promise."
"How about at my house tonight, girls?" Danielle asked. "I have one of those gigantic projection screens set up in the den."
"Sounds good to me!" Mary said with a big smile.
"Yes! Absolutely!" Claudia agreed.
Priscilla pulled out a disc from her pocketbook and showed it to her friends. "I promise you ladies, a night of entertainment you will not soon forget!"
Danielle sat back in her chair and grinned broadly. "Dinner's on me!"
In less than two months Eddie and Priscilla were no longer married. Eddie was fired from his job at WNYX and his position was taken over by Priscilla. He never came through on his threats, as she had suspected, and in time he became a distant memory. It was during this time—her "fat" stage as she called it—that she met and fell in love with a prominent Manhattan attorney. He loved her despite the fact that she was fat, and she loved him even more because of it. In time the happiness she discovered in her newfound love gave her a new sense of self-worth. And in less than a month's time, she had regained her normal weight. No one would ever call her "fat" again.
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Posted by ATCFNM at 7:03 PM