Slowly my tentacle pushed in between my lips. Its sensitive head passed into the hot wetness of my mouth.
Don't worry. This time we are not starting with a big jump. This is more or less where I mean to start. But first: Hi. It's me again: Mia. In case you've forgotten (as if that was even possible), I'm a nerdy girl whose clitoris has grown into a weird tentacle that can move freely in all directions in front of me. I still call it my "little button", but the word little has become slightly ironic. By now, it was the size of my lower arm.
Two weeks have gone by since my last story, and my little button has continued its painstakingly slow growth. And I had continued my little experiments. During the day I had gradually come to use my little button for everyday tasks, such as opening the dishwasher while juggling dirty plates. I had even started to include my little button into my regular fitness routine by wrapping one of those arm bands with exchangeable weights around it.
My naughty experiments had also continued. After having spent multiple ineffective workdays unable to get erotic thoughts out of my head, I had limited these to my morning and evening ritual. During my morning ritual I would observe and record any change in my tentacle while closely watching myself in the mirrored wardrobe next to my bed. I would snap pictures with my phone to document its development. The simple tracking app I originally programmed to keep track of its length has been extended with numerous data points like its dexterity, flexibility, and ability to lift weights. At the end of this routine, I would transition into a short masturbation session. I loved slithering my little tentacle in and out of the cavity formed by my hands. Or into the Fleshlight I had named Amanda.
During my evening ritual I would lie still in my bed and let my tentacle snake its way up under the sheets over my breasts and eventually into my waiting mouth. This was where my little buttons' growth became most noticeable. Towards the end of our last story, getting it into my mouth still required a lot of bending and stretching both of my body and of my little button, and I still was barely able to reach my mouth with its tip. Now, with two weeks of growth under its belt, my little button was able to reach my mouth more comfortably.
And this is where we start today, with my tentacle pushing in between my lips and passing into the sensual wetness of my mouth past my tongue and towards my throat. My lips kissed it as I mumbled: "Oh my. You're eager today, aren't you?"
Somehow, I still got a kick out of pretending that my clitoris had a mind of its own and would ravish my body of its own accord. My little button dipped quickly, as if nodding, and snaked its way back in between my lips. I willingly parted them to envelop the little tip and allow my tongue to start its passionate dance. By now, I had gotten more used to the explosion of sensation I felt while fellating myself. The parallel sensations of licking and being licked continued to be exquisite. My tongue swirled around my tentacle head until my body was squirming as much as my little button. I was already approaching an orgasm.
Wanting to enjoy the buildup a bit longer, I stopped my frantic sucking and focused on exploring my mouth. Fine movement of my tentacle tip still required a fair bit of concentration, so I closed my eyes, shut out all other sensations, and focused on the feelings in my little tentacle head. Soon, I was able to discern the different sensations. There was the soft pressure of my lips, the light scraping sensation that was caused by my teeth, and the warm slippery spot where my tip was resting on my tongue.
I moved it around, probing. There was a row of teeth. The bumpy sensation when sliding along it was both slightly painful and nice. Like a good scratch. I opened my mouth a little wider, letting the thin tip slide in between my teeth and probe around in the folds of my cheek. If someone had watched me right now, they would have been able to see that naughty bump slowly move inside of my cheek as my little button explored every angle and crevice. The soft wet tissue of my cheek was in stark contrast to the hard teeth and caused an interesting mixture of feelings.
I withdrew my little button from my cheek and moved it back towards the central cave of my mouth. Like every time, I tested how deep I could slither down that cave. My body bent slightly to give my little button the maximum possible length. It stretched forwards, hugging my tongue tightly, and bent forward.
I let out a frustrated sigh. This marked the end of my stretching abilities. While my little button was definitely growing, the most interesting experiments always seemed to be just out of my reach. Or maybe this was just a sign of me always being intent on extending my limits and exploring new things. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to slide my tentacle down the wet hole of my throat to explore my body from the inside.
But alas, today was not going to be the day for that and I contented myself with withdrawing my tentacle and practicing some more fellatio. My lips began to suck and my tongue to. By now I knew what I wanted and so it did not take long until I orgasmed in my own mouth.
As always, I didn't withdraw my tentacle from my mouth and just drifted to sleep while gently sucking and enjoying the post-orgasmic sensations.
My sleep tends to be very deep and dreamless. However, on this day, something must have penetrated the deep wall of my sleep and reached my conscience in the form of a pleasant dream. Maybe it was the frustration of always being on the cusp of penetrating myself but never quite getting there. I dreamt of sliding my little tentacle further into myself.
It had started out gently resting between my lips but soon got longer and thinner. Without much issue, it slid along my tongue until it found that dip that marked the limit yesterday. It pushed past it into the depths of my throat. As it hit the wall of my throat, I instinctively wanted to gag but pushed the reflex aside easily. My tentacle became thinner and longer and pushed itself down into my throat, exploring this new opening.
Again, I started to gag and cough and awoke from the sensation to find my tentacle thrashing around halfway down my throat. Instinctively, I withdrew it back into my mouth to give myself some time to calm down. Something had changed. My tentacle was noticeably longer and, at the same time, a lot thinner. I was used to new developments and knew that there would be time to examine whatever this was during my morning ritual. Right now, I was too sleepy to turn on the light and too eager to penetrate myself to pause and do research.
My little button was so long under my sheet! Where before I had to bend down to get it into my mouth, it was now curving over my tummy and my breasts like a long tendril. Stretched out, it would easily reach above my head. Or ... into my throat.
With that thought, I started to guide my little button into my mouth again and slither it along my tongue. I started to brace myself for the contact with my throat skin and was able to suppress my gag reflex as my tendril slithered down my throat.
I could feel it snake its way down into my esophagus, eagerly stretching forward as it slithered down the wet narrow tunnel. I lay one hand on my throat, feeling the little bump of my tendril as it moved further down. Thankfully, my little button was now thinner than half of my pinky, and thus, it allowed some space for me to draw some shallow breaths. I could feel the movement of air in my sensitive tendril -- cold when I was breathing in and hot and humid when I was breathing out.
