Page 39 of Oxygen Deprived

“What does it say now?” She asked, indicating the directions I had in my hand.

“Pour the molding powder in,” I told her.

She picked up the scissors, cut the bag open carefully, then poured it inside.

“Here,” I said, handing her the spatula.

She took it with a small smile and started to stir.

I glanced down at the time on my watch, then back to her.

The movement of her arms as she stirred the pot had her tits swinging this way and that, brushing against her arm as she moved.

I stared studiously at my watch, staring hard until the thirty seconds were up.

“Okay,” I said.

She stopped and waited for me to instruct her on her next step.

“Now pour it in the tube,” I told her, reaching for the waistband of my underwear.

My cock popped free, and she faltered, staring in slack jawed surprise at my cock.

“Pour,” I ordered. “Or it’ll be too late.”

She jumped like I’d pinched her and started pouring the mixture into the tube while looking back and forth between what she had in her hands and what I had in mine.

I stroked my cock while she watched, and I nearly came right then and there when she moaned as the bowl she was holding grazed the tip of her distended nipple, causing her body to jerk.

My hand reached out, almost as if it had a will of its own, and brushed the other neglected nipple.

Just a simple stroke of the backs of my fingers down the very tip of her breast.

By now, my cock was as hard as it’d ever been, and I was thinking that it might not ever return to normal, not with the way she was biting her lip and looking at me through hooded eyes.

I was seriously thinking there might actually be stretch marks along my cock come morning. I wasn’t kidding about the fact that it was bigger.

As if it wasn’t already big enough.

“Okay,” she said, glancing down at my cock again. “Will it even fit in this tube?”

I shrugged.

I had no fucking clue.

We’d forgotten to measure the tube against my cock like the directions had said to do beforehand. I had no idea if it’d fit or not.

“I’m trying to figure out how to get it in there without spilling it. Do I, like, dunk it like a tea bag or something?” I asked, pointing at it, then at my cock.

“The YouTube videos I was able to find weren’t very helpful. All they used were dildos, not actual cocks,” she clarified.

I nodded, then got up, letting my underwear drop all the way to the ground as I did.

“Give it to me,” I ordered, holding out my hand. “I’ll try to lean over on the counter and point it down.”

“No,” she said. “You lean down on both elbows over the counter, and I’ll get down here and…guide it in.”

So that was how I ended up with a hot, sweaty girl, her hands covered in white penis molding goo, at my feet with her hands on my dick.