*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*
***
People whistling across the street. Suggestive hip thrusts and chest wiggles. The 'accidental' arm brush. Eyes on my breasts while they talked to me.
That was my daily norm. If I was lucky, some guys started at my eyes before their gazes inevitably drifted down to my boobs. I was so used to it, that sort of behavior barely bothered me anymore.
'Melons' was a fairly accurate description of my overly large breasts. No matter what I wore, they always looked like they were about to pop out. It was so hard to find bras big enough for these things. Plus the back pain. They were a huge (haha, no, but really) bother.
No one took me seriously. Boyfriends were impossible--my body screamed sex to guys, but that's not what I wanted. So I avoided relationships and tried to stay clear of creepy managers.
But here I was, fresh out of college with a mountain of debt and parents who insisted I find my feet. I tried. Really--I did ok in class, and my business major was better than English or psych. I didn't think finding a job would be so hard.
The women who interviewed me were cold, disgusted, or dismissive. The men stared at my boobs. A few of them offered a position that clearly wasn't in the job posting.
Which is how I found myself working in a rooftop bar on the fourth of July. When I walked in for the interview, the manager took one look at me and asked if I was available to start the next day. He looked harried, mentioning that one of his servers had quit a week before one of the busiest days of the year.
It wasn't exactly a career, but it was a start. Naturally, the uniform didn't fit. The buttons on the shirt looked like they were going to snap any second. I tested them--they would probably hold. Though I supposed my melons were an asset in this industry. Not that I had much choice about displaying them.
I was fumbling with those buttons in the bathroom when another server poked her head in.
"Hey! Hurry up, a group of, like, twenty people just came in!"
Giving up, I smoothed my skirt and headed out. Loud music and louder voices boomed beyond the doorway. The first rush was ok--mostly bar hoppers, and it was early in the evening, so they weren't drunk yet.
As soon as it was darker though, sporadic sparkles of light began to appear in the distant hills. It wasn't the main event, just some people in their yards, probably. Around then, things started getting really busy.
I'd never worked in this kind of scene before. My parents had covered my living expenses and tuition before loans, so I didn't need to work in college. It felt a little like being thrown to the wolves. Not only was I running around, trying not to trip as I balanced dirty dishes, I was also dodging wayward hands. I'd never been bumped into, brushed up against, and blatantly grabbed in the ass so much.
With my hands full and the noise level, I just tried to ignore them. One really drunk guy tipped over a bit like he might fall into my boobs, then seemed to regain his balance when I shifted my tray of ice water. He settled with slapping my ass instead.
I took a break after that, wondering if I was up to this job. This wasn't my first day, though, and the others hadn't been so bad. I just had to get through this day. Sighing, I left the break room.
"We need more ice!" A bucket was shoved into my hands, then my manager gestured toward the back before rushing off.
I vaguely remembered where the ice was. Heading into the back halls, I searched for the kitchen. Someone pointed me toward another hall. Turning the corner, I paused at the entrance to one of the lounges. This didn't seem right. I left as a sharp boom echoed in the distance.
I was in the empty hall when the next crackle sounded. Before it ended, a hand closed on my arm and yanked me sideways. Darkness engulfed me.
"Help! Hel--mmph!"
Bam! Boom! Fzzz-crack!
Along with the music and the crowd, there was no chance of anyone hearing me above the explosions. My assailant covered my mouth anyway.
"Shh, don't make a fuss. I just want to have some fun, tits."
His deep voice vibrated down my spine as he pushed me against a wall, his free hand groping my ass. I squirmed and whined through my nose, kicking back at his legs. He slapped my ass. Hard.
Shocked, I went still. The sting of his palm seemed to go through my entire body.
"I said, don't make a fuss," he growled. "Just be a good girl and you'll be fine. Understand? Nod."
I nodded, my heart pounding. This wasn't the first time I'd been pulled aside and felt up. Someone would come looking for me soon, he'd get spooked, and I'd be fine.
My eyes adjusted as his hand wandered over my body, rubbing my thigh, sliding up my waist and ribs, cupping a breast. There were shelves to my right. We must be in a storage closet. The door was closed to my left, light seeping in from beneath and around the frame.
He molded my breasts, making disgusting appreciative grunting noises. "You should show these off more. You'll get better tips that way, you know."
I didn't respond. Saying anything could just provoke him.
"Like this," he said, his fingers sliding under my shirt and yanking. Buttons popped. My breasts spilled out. He caught them with both hands, chuckling as he squeezed my flesh and ground his crotch against my ass. I grimaced at the bulge rubbing my backside.
"Nice and soft. I bet they'd feel great around my cock."
