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Hello hello helloooooo all you wonderful erotica fans out there! I’ve got a hot new tale for you today concerning one of the most erotic hot-spots of them all–the sleepover. Who hasn’t had a daydream from time to time about pajama-clad beauties tossing pillows around and daydreaming about which boy to marry, comparing boob sizes and trying on make up? Fun! “Bust Gun: The Sleepover” is the next in the “Bimbo Magic” series, which started with “Bust Gun: The Locker Room.”
Well…things pick up a little quicker in this tale of mine (as they often do) when the Bust Gun arrives. From sororal sleepover to sensational sexfest, the Bust Gun makes action happen fast. This hot tale involves barely legal virgins, bimbo transformation, harem gathering, group sex, creampie/impregnation/bareback, master/slave relations, pseudo-incest, mind control/hypnosis, lactation and milk play, and so much more!
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So! If you’re in the dirty mood for a hot tale with no holds barred, look no further than “Bust Gun: The Sleepover” today!
Here’s The Official Blurb:
Leonard is going crazy with lust. He’s already lived with the hot MILF Margaret for as long as he can remember, and he also lives with the very pretty Blair—the same young age as him. She’s a prim-and-proper beauty, easily a virgin despite her obvious fertility. On top of all that, Blair invited two more girls over for a sleepover—including the luscious debutante Gabrielle, who’s hotter than Leonard ever knew a girl could be. He resigns himself to a night of desperately cranking his member thinking of the gorgeous girls around him, but then the Bust Gun mysteriously arrives.
It’s a special device that can turn women into utterly servile beauties with overflowing cups full of warm cream, and all with just the pull of a trigger. They’ll suck and serve and sexily strut alongside their new owner at the drop of a hat, with all the erotic delight a life of constant pleasure can afford them. Soon, Leonard finds himself at the head of a rapidly growing harem…and unless the girls can figure out a way to stop him—or if they even want to—he’s going to have a bevy of bimbofied beauties fulfilling his every last erotic wish, including his need to create heirs in their lusciously fertile bodies.
Excerpt:
“God,” said Coraline, standing up with her fingers still in her snatch, feeling the hot current of orgasm running through her tight young teen body. “I’m so fucking hot.”
And she really was. Coraline tore off her thick sweater, standing up naked between Gabrielle and Blair. She was on her tippy-toes; she couldn’t help but walk with her heels up. Maybe her calf muscles had shortened? She needed to put on some heels to help her.
It was then—only then—that they noticed that Coraline hadn’t been wearing a bra.
She hadn’t needed one, really. Though she had been overweight, her breasts didn’t exactly come as part of the package deal. Her mother had practically zero tits, and the same with her mother, and her mother, and so on. But now, Coraline’s tits grew rapidly, ballooning out first to the size of baseballs, then fists, then heavy, ripe melons. The flesh jiggled and shook, every current of air sending a spike of pleasure through her bliss-saturated system.
Her nipples progressed until they were hot little brown raspberries, ripe for picking. She flicked one, a flood of pleasure flooding her.
“Oh fuck, oh cool,” she moaned, meanwhile forgetting everything she had ever learned in her life about biology in a matter of seconds. That sort of knowledge wasn’t needed for her future life as a bimbo fuckslave. If she could have been made aware of such an event happening, she would have wished the braincells farewell—before locking the door on them to ensure they never returned.
Her cunt gushed.
What finally made her double-over in mind-bending orgasm was seeing her face on Blair’s desk mirror. Once so plain and acne-scarred, painfully vanilla, Coraline’s looks were now exotic and delightful. She had gorgeous brown eyes and thick cock-sucking lips, a cute button nose and a certain elegant mystique that would mean that guys wouldn’t know what an airhead she was until well-after she opened her mouth. It was hotter that way—she could look more elegant and regal for Him that way when he paraded her around town…
