Sometimes when I’m writing, I try to write with purpose. I try to write a story with a compelling theme or message, with a well-thought-out and interesting plot that will stick with you and make you feel something that makes it transcend normal wank material to become something more.
Other times, I hornily mash my keyboard for a few hours until I’ve got a bunch of stuff that I can edit and rearrange into something sort of coherent later on. Three guesses which type of story this is. I hope you enjoy it, in one way or another.
Features a girl who loves showing off her very big chest, a girl who looks very pregnant but isn’t, lactation, and lots of breast-play, but not much action beneath the belt.
-~o~-
Mari fantasized, sometimes, about walking around in public naked.
She’d never actually do it, of course. Being arrested for public indecency wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time. But she thought about it a lot. She’d even written stories in which thinly-veiled proxies of herself walked around the campuses of thinly-veiled stand-ins for the university she attended wearing nothing but a pair of sandals. In her head, nobody actually approached her.
That
wasn’t what she wanted in these particular fantasies. But they stared. College students turned their heads, whispered to each other behind their hands, gaped and gawked at her as she bounced her way through the quad.
In these stories, she was always proud. Unashamed. She walked with her head held high, grinning and waving at her peers, regardless of whether they were horrified or aroused. And hell, since it was fantasy, sometimes she played with some of her other kinks as well. By the ends of the stories, these fictional naked promenades around campus, she was always dripping wet between the legs (as she usually was in reality by the time that she finished writing them) but sometimes her breasts leaked as well, little rivulets of milk streaming down their vasty, wobbling curves before dripping down to the ground. Sometimes she was pregnant, her enormous tummy preceding even her boobs as she walked. Sometimes she was collared, being led by... Whoever she’d been fantasizing about that particular day. More often that she would have admitted it was one of her friends, but just as often it was somebody that she had simply made up.
They were a good outlet. A way for her to indulge herself in a little sexual thrill that she would never consider actually attempting to experience in reality. She’d flashed her chest at parties once or twice before, but she had never given actually walking around naked in public any serious consideration, and she never would.
That said, she was willing to test the rules of public decency a little bit. She still
really
liked showing off, and when you had boobs that were bigger than your own head, showing off was easy to do. Mari owned more plunge and balcony bras than any other type, and it was rare that she went out in an outfit that didn’t show at least a little bit of cleavage. Usually she showed a
lot
of cleavage, and wore tops that left her tummy bare as well. Really, Mari dressed so that anyone who saw her would know what she was all about from the moment that they looked at her.
Today, for example, she had on her well-worn leather jacket, slightly too small for her and permanently open, because there was no way that she could zip it up over her boobs. Her jeans were tight, black, and torn by design. Her boots were big, leather, and stompy. Her hair was bright, electric pink. (She had dyed it for her Halloween costume last year and liked it so much that she had kept it that way.) She wore eyeliner and black lipstick. She had seven piercings in her ears and one on her eyebrow. And yet, she didn’t expect anyone to notice any of that stuff at first glance, because her top was... Barely there. At one time in its life it had been a T-shirt for a metal band that she was a fan of, but it had been, quite on purpose, cut and torn up so that it was practically a crop top at this point. She was wearing one of her plunge bras under it, so her cleavage was as vast and as deep as she could possibly make it.
All in all, it wasn’t the look of someone you’d expect to be visiting the university’s Literature and Language library in order to do heavy research on the morphosyntax of Proto-Indo-European, but Mari liked to defy expectations. The library security guard, posted at the entrance to make sure that nobody was trying to walk out with un-checked-out books, lazily waved her through, then did a double-take and gaped at her chest. She giggled and winked at him as she passed.
“Hey, um...”
She stopped, turned to look at him. “Yeah?” He was either going to flirt with her or try to tell her to cover up. He was young (the same age as her, roughly), a dude, and addressing her boobs instead of her face, so it was probably...
“You can’t wear that in here. Library dress code says you need to cover up.”
Oh. Huh. Mari hadn’t expected that. He was clearly enamored by them, from the way that his eyes kept darting down to her cleavage. “Aw, really?” She approached his little desk and leaned against it. Its surface was high, which meant that her breasts were now resting heavily on top of it. “You sure about that?”
“I, uh...” Now that they were up close, just inches from where he’d been resting his hands, he seemed to have a much more difficult time keeping his eyes off of them.
Everyone had a gift nowadays. Or rather, a Gift. ‘Like X-men, but lamer,’ Mari had heard them described as once, but she didn’t entirely agree. Some of them were a little boring, sure, like Mr. Guardsman here. His eyes were purple, and that was it. Sometimes they were minor things like that. She thought that hers was pretty neat, though: It took the form of a marking that looked almost like a tattoo- a pattern of thin, organically curving lines that resembled vines, or the branches of a tree, which covered her right right side from shoulder to waist, including most of her breast.
Which meant that he could see it quite well. After all, a significant portion of Mari’s right breast was exposed, directly in front of him. The really cool part about Mari’s marking, however, was that it changed color. When she had walked in it was a light, pastel blue, which was the color it took on when she was feeling relaxed and happy, or just indifferent. But as he stared at her, she tried to spark a certain type of mood in herself. She imagined herself walking into the library without any clothes on at all, her big, fat breasts bouncing with every step, watching jaws drop and people stare as-
Ah, there it was. It faded from blue to a bright pink, and it actually started to glow a little bit.
He swallowed, loudly. “Um. Yeah. I’m pretty sure,” he said to her chest.
“You might want to check again, man. Library dress code only applies to employees.”
“What? I don’t...”
“You seem to be having trouble focusing.” Mari bumped into them with her arm as she said it, making them jiggle a little bit. “You feeling alright?”
“I... Yeah. Just.” He shook his head, tearing his eyes from her chest in order to type in ‘dress code’ on the laptop he had in front of him, already open to the library’s website. Sure enough, there was a page labeled ‘Dress Code for Library Employees’, but nothing at all for students.
“It really is a sign of the moral decay of our time,” said Mari. “I mean, really, girls can just walk around in here with their boobs out and everything. Shameful.”
“Just... If any other staff confront you about it, I didn’t let you in, alright?”
Mari winked at him. “It’ll be our little secret.” She gave her chest a little shimmy as she walked away, and laughed as she heard him groan softly.
---
P574, P589, P590...
“Holy
shit
, look at that girl.”
Mari smirked to herself as she searched through the massive shelves of the Linguistics section. The voice came from off to her right, where there was a cluster of study desks beside the bookshelves. The speaker was whispering, clearly unaware that Mari could hear her.
“Oh my
god
. They’re bigger than her head.”
The sheer amazement in the voice delighted her so much that her marking, which had faded back to blue a few minutes ago, immediately switched once again to pink.
“Whoa, and that tattoo changes color, too. Think that’s magic?”
“It’s gotta be. Wait, if the tattoo thing is her Gift, then that means...”