Irresistible Johnson: Part 4. Brian wants to lay his boss, and his Johnson to rest. Based on a post By AnonymousPerv. Listen to the► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Story recap. Let me catch you up on this crazy real-life sci fi drama. My name is Brian Johnson and I live a conditional life. Ever since the lab accident, things changed, and not for the better. Allow me to recap my woes, so you’ll better understand. I was exposed to gamma radiation at work. It was a clumsy, stupid, careless error; just a dumb move on my part. After exposure, the team kept me isolated for weeks and monitored my health. At the time, it seemed I was going to make it out unscathed, but just as I was about to be released from quarantine, we discovered the true trauma I actually incurred. Karen, my boss (and also an LPN), subjected me to one last physical examination, and at her intrusive insistence to know every detail about me, I explained that my penis was hanging much lower since the gamma exposure. It seemed to be a bit thicker, too. Length was never an issue with me, but hanging there five or six inches all the time was out of the ordinary. Typically, I was a grower, not a show-er. Anyway, Karen takes a peek at Mr. Floppy and gets an insatiable urge to swallow my semen. I swear I couldn’t have stopped her if I tried. Here’s where it gets weird. After swallowing, her t**s grew instantly, from her modest A cup to a D cup, I would guess. It was insane. We had to tell the rest of the team what happened, and soon, more tests on my sperm began. Phil, the Senior Partner, desperately wanted to find a way to synthesize it. “Natural tit growth? So many women will want that,” he insisted. The problem was, the breast development was only temporary, lasting about a day, before returning to normal. Up til now, we haven’t discovered a way to synthesize my sperm, but further testing led to the discovery that if a woman ingests it, but not directly from the source; say, a Petri dish, for instance (yes, we actually did this); well, the poor subject gets intensely horny, to the point they will f**k themselves silly in the streets if they have to. Total, unashamed, unabashed sluttery. I’m sure you can imagine how awful I feel about any of my friends or colleagues having to go through such an experience, even if we were all willing participants in this research. Lately, I was feeling more and more alienated from my colleagues. Hell, even Janice was steering clear of me, and we used to chat every day. Still, the team marched on with the work. What else? What other stupid things can my penis do? I have a hard time keeping track. Oh yeah, we learned that if I go several days without an orgasm, I produce some kind of pheromone that makes women want to f**k me (and only me) and right. f*****g. now. Jesus Christ, the pressure. Can you imagine? I might not want it, but the women demand it. Masturbating alone isn’t good enough for them when exposed to this. However, f*****g them leads to the risk of me cumming in their p***y (which they always demand, by the way), and that that leads to the worst of it… Just like when a woman sucks me off, their t**s instantly grow when I cum inside them, but this time they begin lactating heavily. Multiple, daily pumps are required for about week, until the t**s finally, slowly, return to normal. For a while there, all the girls were terrified the effects were going to be permanent. It was right after I had accidentally f****d every female member of the team in the conference room. My pheromones were off, because I hadn’t orgasmed in days, and they all needed my c**k. Thank goodness their breast growth and lactation issues only lasted a week or so, after that ordeal. The girls were a bit more forgiving with me when they went back to normal. Well, all except for Karen, my boss. We’ll get to her issues later. So this is my life now. I can no longer be naked in front of any girl, or she’ll get the irresistible urge to suck me off. I have to m********e regularly in order not to get a “build up” of these funky pheromones which drive women crazy, and there’s no way I can have any meaningful, long-term relationship with a woman, because who would want to risk getting enormous, milky t**s every time they f**k their boyfriend? This was absolutely the worst thing to ever happen to me. The only friend I could turn to is my sister, Penny. She’s my roommate, too, so she understands my plight. We have to be careful that she never sees me naked, considering we share some of the same space. Early in discovery, my sister caught me naked once, and went down on me like a dog on a steak. Or a bone, rather. She hated herself for swallowing every drop of my cum, but came to terms with it pretty quickly when her t**s blew up in size. Normally a pert B, Penny looked like a straight-up bimbo. Surprisingly, she loved it, but when her t**s went back to normal the following day, she was grossly disappointed. We rarely speak of the subject anymore. So here I am, on the night before we lay Heath to rest, once again beating off, so that I can go to a funeral in peace tomorrow. I wish I had a different life. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep this up. I just didn’t think it could get any worse; but I was wrong. On the drive home, I started sweating. I was gripping the wheel tightly. “Everything okay?” asked Amanda, noticing my anxious state of being. “Um… I’m not sure I should say.” “Please. It will be nice to think of somebody other than me and my problems for a while.” “Oh, well, uh… I’m not sure it would do that.” “Oh? Well, now you have to tell me.” I sighed, giving in. “Okay, well, my boss saw your uh… condition,” I nodded towards Amanda’s big t**s, and I could tell she thinks it’s because of me.“ “Oh, I see. That would be bad?” “Very bad.” “It’s not like you meant it to happen.” “Won’t matter,” I said, flatly. “I guess she knows you weren’t that big on top before.” “We met like two years ago. For all she knows, I could have had a breast augmentation.” “She knows that won’t be true come tomorrow at the funeral,” I said. “That’s where I’ll get busted.” Then I laughed. “That is, unless you’re willing to wear a big, fake bra or something to save my ass.” Amanda laughed, too, but then said, “Seems easier just to suck your c**k again.” I almost hit her mailbox pulling in when she said it. “Amanda, no, you don’t have to do that.” “I could use the… distraction.” “But Heath?” “What? Heath and I played all the time, especially when we were younger. Outside of work, he was anything but I prude.” “I won’t pry,” I said. “Point is, he wouldn’t be bothered by this.” “Really? Are you sure? You’ll do that?” “I offered. So, come inside then?” “Well, your t**s are still big now. We have to wait until they go back down before I let you suck me off. Otherwise, they just get exponentially bigger.” “Really? That is some crazy science fiction right there.” “Don’t I know it. So, you did it yesterday around five or so. It’s usually an hour or two around the 24-hour mark, give or take, that one starts going back to normal. That process takes about an hour.” I knew the “rules” of this curse very well, and it showed as I explained them to the widow. “So you might be here late, I guess,” she said, stepping out of the car. “Come on, help me take my mind off the funeral. Let’s prep dinner.” The idea sounded wonderful to me and I followed her inside. I sent a message to work, telling them I had to go home. I didn’t want Karen thinking I spent more time with Amanda than necessary. By seven, we had finished dinner. Salmon and a vegetable stir-fry. “That was delicious,” I said. “Yeah, thank you. I enjoyed that.” She briefly scanned her top and said, “So, uh, it hasn’t started going down yet. Should we wait a little longer?” “We have to, before we do it again. I haven’t ever seen it go much past this point. Rare occasions.” Amanda popped off three of her top buttons, exposing a healthy amount of cleavage. “This will help us keep an eye on things better.” Then she popped another one. “Yeah, that’s much better.” She looked back up to me. “Wanna watch TV or something? A beer?” “That would be nice,” I said. Amanda slowly got up, brushing me as she passed. I headed to the living room and sat on the couch, and soon she came back holding two beers. She took the spot near me. “Remote’s on your side,” she said, reaching past, making sure I could see down her blouse. She grabbed the remote off the nightstand and pulled back off, flicking on the television. It dawned on me. It had been almost 24 hours since I came. If I didn’t beat off, my pheromones would fill Amanda with uncontrollable passion for me. That’s why she had gradually been ramping up her flirtatious behavior. “Hey, maybe we ought to just drop the blouse. Make it easier.” Amanda started popping off her buttons, as I bolted up. “Uh.. I need to use your restroom again.” Amanda’s arm snatched out, her hand grabbing me. “No, wait. I want you to see.” She quickly abandoned the blouse, now revealing everything, as she had no bra on. “Do they look like they’re going down yet to you?” “Unfortunately not,” I said. “But they are nice, right?” “Oh, very,” I agreed. “But still, we have to wait until they go down before you can…” Amanda yanked my arm, pulling me to her. “I get it. We have to wait for them to go down before I swallow your cum, but Brian, I don’t want that right now. F**k me, Brian. Please, f**k me. Then I can swallow you.” I dropped to my knee, trying to explain. “Amanda, I haven’t told you everything. If you f**k me, you will be compelled to have me cum inside you. Much like
