Best of Babes

So, yeah, turns out the goddess of the ancient fertility cult I had been researching is very much still around. She just hadn't had any worshipers in a while. While I would never denigrate a gift from the Goddess, I think she might have gone a little overboard with my rewards! All I did was perform a little chant with some burning herbs and a few strategically placed candles and now look at me! If you can believe it, I was a B cup before all of this with, frankly, no ass to speak of. And now I have bigger boobs than everyone in my grad school class combined! With a perfect hourglass figure to go along with it.

"Mia... baby, this CumMax shit... it's ruining me," I whispered, voice raw. "My cock's thicker, harder, but so fucking sensitive—every breeze feels like a tongue licking the head. My balls are like furnaces, churning non-stop, getting warmer, tenser, like they're gonna burst. Hallucinations hit out of nowhere: phantom pussies milking me, asses grinding me dry. I cum in my pants just looking at you, over and over, and when I touch myself? It sprays faster, endless ropes soaking everything. I feel like I'm losing my mind—desperate to fuck constantly, but my body thinks it's underproducing, so it forces these premature blasts to 'fix' it. You're the only one I can tell... I love you, but this is intense."

She listened, tracing a finger over my chest, her eyes glazing with that bimbo haze, but a dark, teasing spark flickered. "Aww, poor baby... sounds so hard. But look at what it's doing to me—tits bigger, ass thicker, pussy always dripping for more. If it's making us both crave fucking like animals... maybe it's perfect." The next morning, she packed her bags without a word, moving in that day. "We're in this together now," she purred, kissing my cheek. But I didn't know then she was slipping extra CumMax into my coffee every dawn—double doses ground fine, stirring it in with a wink. "Drink up, love—keeps you strong for me."

The effects worsened exponentially, day by day, her daily dosing amplifying the permanent changes until my body was a walking erotic nightmare. By day three, my balls hung even heavier, like watermelons stuffed in my sack, skin perpetually warm and flushed, veins throbbing with internal heat that spread to my thighs, making every step a jolt of tension. The churning became audible—a constant, wet gurgle deep inside, fluid bubbling hotter, forcing my prostate to swell and spasm randomly, leaking thick precum in steady streams that soaked my boxers before noon. Sensitivity skyrocketed: the fabric of my pants rasping against my cockhead felt like velvet fingers edging me, triggering phantom sucks that had me leaking weak spurts just sitting still.

Hallucinations evolved into full-blown sensory assaults—scents of her pussy haunting me at work, tastes of cum on my tongue, visions of her curves overlaying reality. My brain's "solution" shifted too: instead of multiple quick cums, the desperation built to "white out" episodes—massive overflows where my balls clenched like vices, pumping out one enormous, unending rope of thick, creamy cum for minutes on end, fast and forceful, flooding everything until I blacked out from the pleasure-pain. Mia loved it, her personality twisting more teasing, dominating—sending pics all day: her squeezing her ballooning tits, fingers buried in her sopping pussy, captions like "Thinking of your cock... or maybe the barista's if you're too leaky today. Hurry home, prejac. 💦"

She'd edge me mercilessly when I got home, strutting around in skimpy outfits that hugged her growing bimbo body—tits now overflowing Js, ass a jiggling shelf that clapped with every step, hips swaying like a fertility goddess. "Look at you, baby—balls so tense, cock twitching like it needs me," she'd coo, grinding her fat ass against my bulge through clothes, feeling the heat radiate from my sack. "Don't cum yet... hold it for me. Tell me how bad it is—warmer? Tenser? God, I love dosing you... makes you my perfect cum fountain." I'd beg, "Mia, please... it's worse today—the heat's burning, balls feel like they're inflating, gonna white out..." But she'd back off, laughing softly, her own cravings making her pussy throb visibly, dripping down her thighs.

Until the white out hit—pressure peaking unbearably, my vision blurring as my balls overflowed in a cataclysmic surge. Cum erupted in one massive, continuous rope, blasting through my pants in hot, forceful jets that painted the floor, her legs, everything. "Now, baby—fuck me while you white out!" she'd command, yanking me down, guiding my spurting cock into her greedy pussy in a dominating grip. Her walls clenched like a fist around me, milking the endless stream as I thrust wildly, blacking out mid-pump, her bimbo moans echoing: "Yes—flood me! Make me bigger, sluttier—gonna use this cock all night, then maybe share if we're still horny!"

She rode me through the haze, her massive tits smothering my face, ass bouncing with meaty slaps, pussy squirting around my length as my white out continued—rope after rope pumping deep, her body absorbing it, curves plumping fuller right there. "Touch yourself more—spray faster for me," she'd tease, her hand joining mine on my shaft mid-fuck, triggering even harder blasts. We'd fuck for hours in her dominating rhythm, both desperate, both changing—her into a teasing bimbo queen, me into her overflowing prejac slave, the CumMax binding us in endless, worsening ecstasy.

"Ah-CHOO!"

A simple sneeze turned into an erotic display now that Jessie's breasts had swollen into the gargantuan tits now bouncing on her chest. They called it the Hucow Flu, although the exact effects varies from patient to patient. Some did wind up spontaneously lactating, but most didn't. Some had some serious (and usually pink) brain fog in the aftermath, but most didn't. Most people just wound up with larger breasts, the average growth being around 3 or 4 cup sizes.

Some didn't. And Jessie was part of that "some."

Her tits had exploded over the last few weeks, expanding out of every bra she owned and pushing through her wardrobe as well. But with the Hucow Flu running rampant, she couldn't really go out and get new clothes. And so she sat at home and waited for the sickness to pass, watching her breasts grow and grow, waking up every day just a little bit bigger.

Day 143/180 of your friend's medical trial. A few weeks in she'd started messaging your out of nowhere, explaining how she needed the cash. A little weird, you'd thought. You guys weren't close, why message you? Maybe she was just bored?

Soon enough there was selfies. Then high angled selfies. Then high angled selfies in bed. The conversation was great, you were trying to play it cool, but you were having a hard time not bringing up her clearly changing figure when it was clearly what she was aiming her camera at with every photo. Were you being an idiot? You kept trying to be polite, but maybe she was waiting for you to take a hint.

She vanished for a few days, giving you a heads up, something about "deep treatment". Then, a text with a text preview. "I lived, bitch". You smiled a little, glad she was okay. Medical trials are no joke. Then you opened the photo she sent.

"Jesus fuck", you rocketed out the message in shock instinct, finger barely pausing over the send button

"I see you typing" She sends, eyeing your hesitation. You can practically feel her grinning on the other end of the three rolling dots on messenger.

“The game’s called Touch Me,” she says. Your wife sits up against the bed, her lingerie strapped nice and securely to her chest. “It’s….well, it’s pretty easy. Just follow along.”

“Okay,” you say, striding in the room behind her. You close the door and hear it click shut. “I’m a little creeped out, but okay.”

Her grin is saucy and mischievous. “Don’t worry so much, it’s pretty fun.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

“More than you know,” she mutters under her breath, but you don’t question it. “Okay, come here. Don’t be shy.”

You walk closer, still a little unnerved.

“I don’t bite.” She laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder. Then she adds, “Much.”

“Honey…”

“You’re no fun,” she chides, but she’s still smiling so there must be something about this she finds amusing. “Fine, fine, let’s start. Touch me.”

You wait, and then you realize that wasn’t her saying the name of the game again, but a command. “What, like now?”

“No, next Tuesday.” She rolls her eyes and this time there is a semblance of annoyance. “Of course I mean now. Really, honey. I promise you’ll like what happens.”

Swallowing the sudden frog that gets lodged in your throat you reach out with one hand and hold her hand.

Her laugh is the thing of dreams. “Okay, either you’re really just this sweet, or you’re more worried about my game than you let on.”

You shrug, but don’t deny it. Her laughs send a small shudder through her, rippling in ways you know aren’t meant to be innocent. The strap of her bra seems to twang between her shoulder and boob more rapidly than you remember.

“Are your boobs…bigger?” you say, entirely without thinking. 

“Not quite.” She cups one lace-covered boob and shakes it, tempting. “Why? Do you want them to be?”

“Of course.”

You clamp a hand over your mouth, ready to apologize for insinuating you think they even should get bigger when you stop, seeing the mirthful shakes of her chest.

“Easy hun, I’m not mad.” She winks at you instead and, in a scene straight out of a bodice-ripper, she puts a finger to her lips, sucks on it, and then traces a line from the top of her cleavage down, a thin trail of spit drawing the eye. “You’ve never been subtle about it.”

Wow. Fuck. The way those tits moved…the ember in your gut turns hotter, warmer. You can feel yourself stir in your pants but make no move to acknowledge it.

“Touch me,” she says, softer but firmer than before.

This time you don’t shy away. You step in front of her and palm the outer fabric of one cup of her bra. You rub your thumb along the outside material, smooth as silk, but still easy to feel the warmth of her breasts. A small nub makes you pause, but running your thumb over it makes your wife gasp that sexy pleased gasp she loves.

She looks up at you, sensual and dark hunger clouding her eyes.

“Mmm, good boy,” she purrs. The words wrap around you, straightens your posture, and plants a promising kiss on the tip of your cock. “Finally getting into it then?”

She places a hand against your hips, pulling you closer. You are struck with the realization that she is the perfect altitude to suck you off, if only your pants weren’t still on.

But…wait….that’d never been the case before. Something feels strange, like your perspective is off by a point of reference it never knew it used.

The way she looks up at you wipes away all doubts you have.

She licks her lips, tongue escaping her petite mouth and tracing the upper and lower lips. You know, somehow, that even though she’d never managed before she could probably fit the whole head of your cock in her mouth now.

Your vision swim on the outside of your peripherals.

“Kiss me,” she utters. It comes out like a prayer but it rings like a command because there’s nothing you won’t do for her now.

She grabs you by the shirt, pulling you down, your struggle briefly at the sudden action but her lips taste like honey and there’s somehow so much to her mouth that it’s a fight not to throw yourself atop her and kiss her senseless.

“Touch me,” she says, in between kisses and rising for air. Her hands guide yours down from her shoulders where you’d been supporting yourself to her tits and though you briefly worry about pushing her down or hurting her, there’s so much your hands just sink in.

Her tits are definitely bigger. Somehow.

Your back hurts less than you expected from bending down so much and one brush of your thumbs against the material, brushing against her nipple-

“Fuck yes, baby,” she gasps, cupping your head. “Shrink for me.”

-sends an lust intoxicated message of Yes yes yes straight down the runway of brain to cock and it’s all you can do not to just fall into her.

You’re not bending down as much as you expected. Her mouth, her tits, her body….they just seem so big.

She breaks the kiss again, and you shake your head instinctively, looking to the side to establish orientation but her grip on your stays strong. Surprisingly strong.

She looks you in the eyes, punch drunk on lust, love, and something else, and you know it’s the same thing reflecting from your own.

“Touch me,” she says, pleads, begs. “Touch me, baby.”

Your hands travel from her tits to her hips. It’s a bizarre experience feeling them wider apart than you expected.

An arc, a zap of something passes between you two, and your wife gasps and you can see the absolute visible strain of her boobs against her lingerie. It’s then that you realize that you’re no longer bending down, but completely level with her, while standing.

Your mind feels like cotton as you process this idea. You recall the words she’d just said. Something…something about…

“Do you like them?” your wife says, pressing her tits together and groaning briefly. “Do you like how b-big they are, honey?”

Her tits seem to swell up and out at you. You go to grope one on instinct but her hands clamp down on both of yours, keeping you firmly entrenched, her legs on both sides and your hands on her hips. Which seemed to be making more and more of an impression in the mattress….

Your wife grunts, moves, and unclips her brassiere with one hand. Jiggalicious boobs fill your vision.

“Want to touch them?” she whispers. “Want to touch my big, big, boobies again, honey?”

“Y-yes.”

At some point you’d removed your pants. Or maybe they’d just slid off. You are feeling awfully slim.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter because when she grabs your hard member all thoughts except for her jump into a volcano. She jerks you, once, and you can’t help the noise of helpless desire that leaves you.

The other hand cups one of her tits again, this time, as if offering it out to you. Her nipple is hard and appetizing and your mouth waters.

“Suck me.” It’s not a request. Her voice lowers into a loving coo. “Be a good boy, and suck my huge boobies, honey.”

Despite the phrasing, how much it turns you on, and the still prevailing questions, you pop her nipple into your mouth - what the fuck how were here tits level with your head - and suck.

She throws her head back and moans. “Fuuuuuck, yes, do it baby, fucking suck me. Suck my tits and- and-” the grip she has on your cock is absolute and you can’t help the buck and thrust of your hips into her hand. “Aww honey, you’re so fucking small.”

The word stops you momentarily, wrenching you from your bliss. Against every instinct, you release her nipple and gently push yourself away from her. You realize instantly the only reason you do is because she lets you.

What….what the fuck…

“I’m so big,” she says, admiring her body. It’s true, she’s somehow become…more. More woman. More wife. More her. “You made me so big, baby.”

You are still painfully hard but that doesn’t stop you from gaping. 

She stands above you. Well above you. Her previously large boobs, already well above average, hang from her her chest down to her navel, literally nothing but enormous fleshy pillows full of milk if the thin white stream leaking down her front and your gullet was any indication.

Her head brushes the top of the ceiling, a fucking eight foot tall ceiling and she’s sitting down, and her hips and thighs have overtaken the entirety of the bed. The front edge of it sink pitifully down, helpless to support such a large specimen of woman.

And you, you are…nothing. Well, not nothing. But you are half the size- no less, less than half your size. You can barely see over the edge of the already dangerously sinking mattress and the only reason you’d still been able to suck her tit, her nipple so big it almost took up your whole mouth, was because her tits were just that massive.

“H-How?” you croak, after taking it all in.

Your wife looks down at you and you are stunned with how much you want to just stop. Stop and forget and please her immensity.

She curls her finger at you in a ‘come hither’ gesture.

“Touch me.”

You step forward once more, servant to your body’s wants. Your hand reaches up…but fails to touch her immense tit.

You’re still shrinking.

Not to be stopped by this you rush close to the edge of the bed. You throw your hand up over the edge, scrabbling for purchase and skim across something wet, precious and perfect. A rolling maelstrom of sheer lust rolls down your wife’s body and there, encompassed by boob, leg and more woman than you ever dreamed of, you realize you’re never leaving.

She picks up, easily. She doesn’t bring you up to her face or anything so so mundane. She squats up, off the bed briefly, and then drops you in the same spot she’d been sitting in.

Ass like a mountain fills your vision before you are pinned with the weight of your wife, her body growing atop you and yours shrinking…shrinking….shrinking….

“Fuck,” she lets out, a susurrus of want and desire. “Kiss me.”

Her pussy is right atop you. It grinds against your body like a ride but you are unable to do anything about pushing her off. So, instead you do the only thing you can and pucker your lips, sloppily kissing every part of her your can, which isn’t much.

“Fuck. Yes. Good boy. Fuck.”

The words are all around you now. You don’t even know if it’s stopped, you just want to do more.

“Sh-shrink,” your wife says. Orders. “Shrink for - fuck - me, baby.”

You swallow and your heart skips a bit. More?

“Please,” she begs. “Shrink. Shrink. Shrink for me…”

Unbidden, your body begins to comply. Her ass cheeks grow huger and huger until suddenly you find yourself breathing easier and easier. The shape atop you, the sheer mass of pure sex and woman, grind and moans.

And then wetness touches your cheeks. Sweet, tantalizing, an ambrosia of dreams.

“Now,” she says, panting, “Fuck me, baby.”

You don’t even have to guess how, as she rises, squats over you, and then, angling herself just right, lowers her immense pussy over your tiny, diminutive body.

______________________________

“Okay… Lets try this one out…”

You were not having a good day. Well… You were and you weren’t.

On the plus side - Your prayers had been answered. Literally. You’d woken up to being 20lbs heavier in sheer, womanly, bouncy curves.

On the down side - Nothing you owned would fit you. You’d moved into your largest pair of underwear and still found yourself unable to fit.  Everything you’d tried on so far had looked a thong instantly, without even making it halfway up your new ass. You had long since abandoned any thought of a bra, it would be pointless to even try.

With one final tug the panties slipped up, all of the fabric being swallowed between the two new orbs. 

You panted, the last half hour of pulling and tugging had worn you out. You heard your phone buzz on your bed, laying down to read it.

”Hi, left underwear outside your door. Pay me back soon, and tell me why you need these massive things!”

You felt tired, you’d get it in a second. For now you needed to sleep. You drifted off almost immediately.

*SNAP*

— A few hours later —

“Oh for the love of God! She bought the biggest pair they had…”