"You can start by giving me a look under that bikini top, bitch," answered the biker threateningly. "It's the least you can do after ruining what that other chick had coming to her." Wrapping one arm around the genie confidently and then lowering his voice to seem a little more seductive, he put his mouth to her ear and softly continued: "Besides, your a hundred times hotter than that fat cow who never got a chance to see what a real man she almost had a shot with."
"I suppose I was a little intrusive," the genie teased, trying to sound a bit more sexy in her own right. "I guess I should make it up to you," she said, squeezing her boobs together, holding her arms low with her hands toward her own crotch area, and his. "After all, your little man didn't get to show what a real man he was, did he? Maybe he would like a chance to show me." She brought one hand up to stick a finger in her mouth and, with her other hand still down there, traced an index finger slowly along the underside of his still erect penis that was still sticking out of the zipper in his jeans. He shuddered in pleasure. "Does this make the poor little guy feel better?" she said in a high-pitched voice, bringing her other index finger (the wet one) down to twirl its wetness around his glans. Her soon-to-be victim bit his lip.
"Ahhh, that's more like it," said the biker. "But you better not be calling my happy-sack little," he said, bringing out the tough-guy voice again for another sentence, just to make she still knew who was boss.
"Oh, I don't think anyone will be saying such a thing about you after tonight, you big, beefy hunk of ... mighty muscle," she flirted. "In fact, how about we get you out of those jeans and see how big and ... beefy you can get?"
The biker grabbed her by the arm, got them both tucked away behind some bushes farther from the streetlight, and dropped his drawers, spreading his legs and pointing down at it, hoping she'd go down on him voluntarily. She ran her hands through his hair once and then started caressing his balls like a pro. The big bad biker was loving this! He'd never met such a hand-job expert as this woman. And he didn't even have to beat her into submission like those stuck-up hard-to-get babes. One hand stroked his penis a few times, and he felt his precum starting to lubricate her hands as a few drips of it seeped out of him. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Milk it dry, debtor, and we'll say your debt is paid off."
"If you say so," she said, moving her wet hand down to his ball sack to let him feel the tingly coolness of her moist touch down there. He closed his eyes and drank in the sensations of her touch, amazed that this night had turned out so much better than he'd expected. He barely noticed her hands feeling smaller and further apart as his scrotum expanded. He definitely noticed the weight and pressure that was building up down there as she caressed. 'I must be really pent up!' he thought. He couldn't even feel her hands bumping up against the hardness of his balls anymore as they fondled the stretched, bloated skin of his sac. He was sure he was about to blow as the tightness of trapped liquid was getting to be too much for him. He let out a loud moan that sounded louder and deeper than he expected, and less like his own voice somehow. Just when he thought he was about to squirt his companion's forearms like a water blaster, he felt something even more tantalizing, more intense beyond any orgasm he had ever experienced.
Instead of forcing out his first jet of cum, his cock twitched, jerked around, and multiplied its own sensations by two, three or even four, and the pressure continuing to build up behind it even as jostled around begged to be touched. If he didn't know better, he'd have said it felt almost like his dick had split in four, with as many tight urethras and tingling pissholes desperate to release his load. And even after he reached this unprecedented nirvana of (what he assumed to be) sexual tension, he still was miraculously prevented from releasing. It seemed that he still hadn't received quite the right sort of stimulation to release his load. He was so close it was actually starting to be painful.
'This woman is good,' he thought silently, moaning again. 'She's so good I'm not even sure it even really feels so good anymore. Imma hafta empty this sack or imma lose my mind!'
Just then, the woman grabbed and his squeezed his cock, managing to stimulate about one-fourth of what it felt his penis was capable of, but that was enough. He felt a warm surge flow out of him before splattering on the ground. His cock was so sensitive that he was sure he felt her grab it a second time, without letting go, as though his sex-addled mind were giving him a replay. In fact, it was almost as though he were coming through a whole second cock when his second spurt gushed out.
"Ah, that's it, that's the spot," he managed to slur using words this time, suppressing another bellow. He'd never felt such relief in his life, even though he could tell there was a lot more to come out.
After at least a couple of minutes, the biker's eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. He could feel he was now standing in a puddle of watery warm liquid, he could hear his continual squirts surging into the puddle with the force of someone pissing, and he could even feel some of the droplets spattering against his legs. He still felt bloated down there, although not as much as before. He should have quit coming a while ago. What was going on?
He looked down, but it was hard to see anything in the dark except. The woman waved a hand up to free a dim orb of mystical light, which continued to glow in the air while she reached back down between his legs to continue her work. The former sexual predator watched the orb in wonder for a moment before looking back down and mooing again at the sight of a veiny pink sack dangling between his spread legs--complete with four long, swollen, nozzle-like growths, two of which the genie was holding, squeezing them in alternation. Every time she squeezed one, a thin jet of white liquid surged out to join the white puddle which was trying to soak into the grass. The liquid looked familiar--mundane, even--but radically unlike anything he'd ever sprayed out of his groin area before. He knew where such a liquid was supposed to come from, and what kind of animal a well-trained set of hands could coax it out of in gallons.
"What's the matter?" asked the genie sweetly, innocently, seductively. "Don't you want me to milk it dry?"
The pantsless biker fell back onto his ass and scuttled away on all fours with his belly still up in the air, disturbed by what he had just seen and confused about what this woman's role might have been in his predicament. Sitting on the grass a few paces back from her, he mentally refused to believe that what had just happened was real, but the unspeakable equipment was still solidly attached to his underside and had followed him to his new location. Perplexed, he pressed one of his palms into it, feeling the displacement of liquid inside. He grabbed one of the vaguely penis-shaped protrusions and tugged--ouch! He winced.
"Here, let me show you how," his acquaintance offered gently. He nodded and backed up from her, shaking his head. Unfortunately, his unseemly container still felt uncomfortably distended, and he was therefore incredibly curious about how she had managed to release some of its unsettling contents, so he ultimately stayed put while she stepped closer and sat down behind him, wrapping her arms in front of him almost like an embrace.
"It's a little more awkward from this angle, but I can tell you need some help with this." She wrapped a hand loosely around one of the teats--one of the teats she hadn't tried milking yet--sending a shudder through the man's body in the process. Then she gripped it with her index finger as close to the udder as possible before squeezing with the rest of of the fingers on that hand. The soothing flow resumed, then stopped again, then resumed when she repeated the process on another teat. Speeding the process along, the biker soon grabbed a third teat to try his hand at the task. He only managed a dribble at first, but he learned quickly. Soon he was working his own udder like a milkmaid, working the two upper teats diligently while his partner worked the lower. He couldn't stop his eyes from rolling back in his head as four hands raced to complete his first milking. He even thought to himself that maybe he actually could feel an orgasm somewhere, closer to his butt maybe, behind the udder. He didn't really want to think about what might be going on there, and he didn't want to stop milking his desperate udder either. How could something so impossible and so humiliating feel so necessary and so pleasant?
When it was over, the biker was left panting and out of breath, exhausted and wondering whether his bovine organ would deflate and return his human male genitalia now that it had finished unloading the gallons of milk it had contained. Maybe he would even just go ahead and wake up from whatever nightmare this was. When it he realized it was here to stay, though, he looked pleadingly up at the genie.