I love tits so much (no matter the size). They're so beautiful and soft and they're so so fun to play with. I love everything about a woman's body but there's something about breasts that just shuts my brain off and prevents me from forming coherent thoughts. Thank you women I love youuu
Letting your giant, milky breasts get more and more engorged as I refuse to milk them. Massive heavy tits growing bigger and fatter and leakier and they fill with so much milk you feel like they could squirt at any time. Spilling out of your bra, straight the button of your shirt, too fat and jiggly and full too ignore
I hope that one day my boobs get even bigger and puffier I want them to get so big I can't wear a bra anymore and everyone can just see my boobs bounce with every breath and then they take it upon themselves to slip their hands under my shirt and grope and squeeze my chest so much that my boobs just start squirting milk
More women need to audibly slosh, because it has a bunch of different connotations. It can be fat milky udders sloshing and begging to be milked. Could be a belly sloshing from chugging too much and bloating, needed to be rubbed. Or even their entire body, filling up from juice or something making them a new storage container for their contents.
You'd read the warning label ten times over, but part of you still didn't think the gum was going to work. How many times had you fantasized about feeling your skin stretch over your swelling, blue body? Too many to count. But now you were nervous, feeling my warm hands pressed reassuringly against your back.
"Just don't get too big, okay?" I said, taking a couple cautious steps back as you popped the gum into your mouth and started to chew. The tastes were so real. The savory first course, the buttery sides, then the moment you'd been waiting for: the fruity dessert. It started in your jaw, and it did, indeed, feel funny. Tingly.
You'd cleared out some space in the middle of the room, furniture pushed to the walls. Turning now to face me, I grinned and and told you that your cheeks were already going blue. You chewed faster. The taste was so rich, every bite so juicy. Your tongue felt a little swollen as you chomped away.
The bloated feeling started lower than you expected, pushing out from the bottom of your belly, the waistband of your sweatpants rolling down. Your fingers, tinged blue, pressed into the soft skin of your rounding belly, feeling it starting to soften and slosh. You cold see your cheeks wobbling at the edge of your field of vision as you stared down, holding the bloat with both hands.
Then it started to spread. Your sweatpants felt snug on your thighs and butt. I had suggested you strip down to avoid completely losing these clothes, but you weren't going to give up the feeling of outgrowing them. Your thighs pushed your feet apart, the stumbling motion sending you into a sloshy wobble as you righted yourself, properly round now. You could feel your arms pushing away from your bodyā¦ no your body was pushing them away.
The seams on your shirt strained, then started to rip. Your skin was pleasantly tight and tingly in all the juiciest spots. They didn't advertise on the warning label how turned on you'd feel, it was like the juice was making every part of you feel sensitive and engorged. Without thinking, you reached up and held your aching chest, feeling a wet spot forming on your shirt where you'd pressed your nipple, letting a little juice outā¦ reminding yourself that you had to be more careful, you didn't want to lose a drop.
Your torso was already near-spherical, your arms resting at your round sides, your hips and lower body starting to round even more after sliding your sweatpants lower. The sound of your shirt tearing on both sides came just as a surge of growth had your shoulders starting to dip into the curvature of your rounding chest. Everything was tight and full and perfect. You chewed harder, like you were juicing the gum for all it could give you.
And you kept growing. Your balance was off, all the juice wobbling and making you start to sway on your splayed feet. Your elbows sank into the juicy balloon of your body, your thighs following as your arms and legs continued to be stretched outward. Your heart leapt as you felt yourself fall, but you didn't fall so much asā¦ roll. Landing with your crotch perfectly against the ground, the wet weight of your body gently grinding on you as your face slowly tipped towards the floor, the last of your shredded clothes falling away.
Your tongue was too swollen to talk, but you could chew. My hands against your juicy, berry skin felt overstimulating to the point of moaning. You were a five-foot berry, perfectly spherical with your head, hands, and feet poking out from the plump surface. The sensation of being rolled, gently, feeling the leak of juice coming from your swollen groin and nipples subside as you tried to calm your breathing and chew more. Watching the ceiling getting a little closer with every bite. Feeling your body starting to brush the furniture.
"Babe, you'reā¦ umā¦ getting a little big," I said, barely visible as your head started to sink into a divot of your growing body. It felt too good to stop. Your body was so full and round and juicy. You felt the pressure as you began pushing against the ceiling of the room, the soft surface of the couch rolling you away from it, against the other wall. I was calling for you to stop, but you were chewed, your swollen tongue barely giving you any room to move your mouth. The pressure felt incredible. Inside, all the juice against your skin. Outside, your skin against everything else. Unable to move, barely able to flex your purple, swollen fingers.
When the gum finally lost its flavor, you'd swollen into an eight-foot overripe berry, trails of juice dribbling from your nipples, mouth, and crotch. You knew I'd juice you. Tell you that you'd gone too far for your first time. You could feel my hands already scaling the curves of your body, searching to find any of the most sensitive parts of you that would start releasing the pressureā¦
But you'd swell yourself right back up, you knew that. Being this big, blue, and juicy was too perfect not to chase with every moment. This was how you were meant to be.
There's, of course, two sides. One is that - some outfits require you to have larger tits and those don't just grow out in a second.
But the second one is... there's something so unbearably hot about someone puffing them up to a desirable size and then grabbing them from behind, teasing the nipples until they're sore and swollen and telling how much it suits you to have massive, stretched out knockers šµāš«
whipped cream inflation is so cute. you mean you've got a bump AND it's all full of delicious cream?? Your plump belly all swelled up with it?? You're a perfect little creampuff, let me take a bite~
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