He Wants Me To Be Everything For Him; Whatever He Wants Me To Be.

He wants me to be everything for him; whatever he wants me to be.

But what about what I want?

Yes, sure, they feel good. The weight on my chest just feels right, like I’ve been walking wrong till now. That pull that makes me arch my back to hold them up, it’s just natural. 

Every week the mirror shows me how much they’ve enlarged. I love the way clothes look on me now, stretched beyond capacity, like I’m too much to handle  And boy, I need some handling.

The pleasure these babies give me... When we’re together, or even when I’m alone in bed at night, I can feel them, like an active presence, slowly swelling bigger and bigger. When my boobs are touched, the brush of a hand, the snag of a shirt, whisper of a breeze... and the sensation is only increasing as they grow. I can now orgasm from a single nipple, but I’m so horny all the time that I need to get off at least thrice a day to be satisfied.

I think about my titties all the time and I find myself flaunting them... it’s natural. They’re amazing. I’ll keep growing, I can’t stop, it just feels too good. But though they need attention, so do I.  I need a man who will view me for me, as a wonderful woman first and as the busty cumslut who needs his cock between her tits daily second.

They say the camera adds four cup sizes. “Selfie BE” - see more at inflate123.deviantart.com

Sorry for your loss. Will you need time off from here to process everything?

Thanks for your concern :) I’ll see how things go. 

I can’t believe she hasn’t made the connection yet. Sure, she’s got a lot going on. She works a 9 to 5, teaches classes, and is seeing two other guys, but the pills I’ve been taking every time before we get down and dirty have quadrupled the size of her ass. Since she likes how wide I am, she always puts it in there. Nowadays, as I’m lying there, watching those huge hips and gargantuan booty move up and down on my cock, it’s all I can do to not bust in a few minutes, and she’ll always have me hard again in moments even if I do. Now I’m a tall girls kinda guy, and she always wished she was taller, but I think she’s an ass chick through and through. When she’s getting dressed I see her looking at it in the mirror, smiling and cooing as she rubs it. She certainly makes me do enough work on it. My hands are fucking raw from spanking her, and I’ve never heard someone squeal as loud as she does when my palm ripples across a smooth cheek before it meets taut muscle beneath. Fuck it, maybe she’s converting me to the way of the ass too. I can’t stop thinking about when she’s coming over next. She’s running a conference in LA, and I can’t wait for her to get back. I want to see how far we can take this, how big she can get. Maybe that’s what she wants too? Only 2 more days until she gets here... The photos might just hold me over until then. Maybe I’ll try photoshopping...

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It was hard to get back into the dating game, and finding a good man is normally even tougher at my age - so I figured I’d need an advantage. I had some money put away, but not enough to be anyone’s sugar momma. Yes, I also had intellect and personality, and I was fit... but I was scared non of it would be enough. The kind of men I like, confident, good looking, mature... little hussies snap them up by the minute and have their way with them.Very often they’re left bitter and broken. 

So I pondered on what I could do to level the playing field. Then a great idea (or two) hit me. So, I pooled a portion of my savings, and went to see one doctor. Then another. And then another still. Weeks, and then months passed. I flew out to South America. A brief sleep, and then another two weeks.

Now, here I am back on US soil, a new woman. And, more importantly, another date lined up this evening. I’d had a few, and some were decent, but none had caught my interest. His profile said his name was Peter and that he was 54. I’d been through his photos, and he was quite good looking, and he seemed sweet from his bio description. Now I carefully lined my lips, matching my new red dress I’d bought in Peru which matched my favourite crimson heels. I heard three gentle knocks on the door downstairs. Well, he was on time! Even below a pair of breasts almost thrice the size of my head (each) my heart fluttered with nerves. I wobbled on my heels, anxious and not yet used to me centre of gravity yet. 

I caught a glimpse of myself in a full length mirror as I descended the stairs. Extreme? Yes, perhaps, but wow was I stunning. When they’d first unwrapped the bindings, my boobs had been swollen and raw looking, but now the mountainous curves seemed like they always should have been there (though I’m glad I’ve always had a strong back!). 

I saw him silhoutted outside the front door, and I felt nervous again. I smoothed my dress, enjoying the look and feel of the tightness as I checked my reflection one more time (Perhaps the fact that I have so many mirrors in my house says something about me?) before opening the door.

Peter was even better looking in person, and he clearly seemed to think the same of me. His eyes widened, and he mechanically thrust the small arrangement of flowers towards me. I smiled ingratiatingly and sniffed them, enjoying its wonderful scent. 

“Good evening, Pete-- may I call you Pete?” I asked, wondering if my tits were bouncing to the machine gun of my heart. 

“Y-yes, hi-um..” Peter took in a long breath, and then smiled, seeming to have regained his composure. “You are even more enchanting in person Grace. Are you ready to go?”

His voice was smooth but strong, like hardening amber. I smiled, wondering if I was showing too many teeth, and thanked him, extending my hand towards his. I enjoyed the feeling of his eyes sliding over my prodigious chest as it exited the house a couple of seconds before I did. I had never felt more content with my body, like through my new bosom I could better express who I am. Peter’s talk turned to my paintings which lined my hallway, and I sighed, relaxing. I may be nearly all chest now, and I love every moment of that, and while I want need a fella to enjoy that too, I need a real man who will remember that it is “nearly”. Perhaps that could be Pete.

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Chelsea Charms 💙

“Come back to bed! Momma’s looonely...” Candy crooned. 

That wasn’t her real name, but he was used to that. They never used their real names. She leaned more heavily against the door frame, her leg muscles growing taught, and she slid her hand along the robe that now only came down to the top of her thigh. Her nipples were showing, peaking through the tight white cloth that strained to cover her huge tits. Many women would have been content at this point and stopped. Still, she was eager now, and confident, luxuriating in the sex that she oozed. But he’d seen bigger.

She blinked and pouted, and her eyes lowered to his member, furled in his tight boxers. Her tongue moved forward to the edge of her lips, displaying genuine hunger, and she bit her lip to try and stop herself. “Candy”’s massive rack was drawing her into a whole new world, and she was beginning to realise it. 

Still, he could never resist further fulfilling their inner desires. It was a good thing she had the doorway to support her as he hardened, pushing out against his boxers. Her chest heaved in anticipation as he moved closer, and a small moan escaped her lips as she let the robe fall open, exposing a canyon of cleavage to his grasp.

“M-m-make me bigger. Please.” she whispered, her smouldering act crumbling into the blaze of her desire.”Much bigger.” she continued, a groan escaping her as his mouth found a nipple. She sank to her knees, spreading her wobbling legs. “Oh yes, I want to be... enormous!” she moaned, still demure but her passion rising. Her nipples were hard against his hands, and her soft chest throbbed against his hard muscles. He kissed her neck, and felt a wetness against his legs, where she now began to writhe.

“Ahhh... I want you inside me, I want your b-big hard cock!” she gasped, her hand gripping his shaft and trying to guide him downwards. He continued to nuzzle her neck, moving up along her jaw and cheekbone, while his hands made circles across her boobs. “Please!” she begged.

“Please, what?” he replied, his voice rough and grinning. 

“Fuck me!” she cried out. “Pump my tits bigger- bigger than beachballs...” he began to lower his body, his cock slipping out of her hand and sliding up her thigh. His fingers continued to kneed her hot titflesh. The air thundered with a carnal ozone which intensified with each quiver and moan. “I- don’t want to stop!” she squealed, as he filled her tight pussy. “Just keep me growing forever!”

He idly wondered if she really meant it. The idea excited him, and he felt himself get closer to the edge...

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I know she has a more slender nose. Her chin is more refined, and her eyes sparkle with mirth. Laughter plays around doting, clever lips. The woman has high cheekbones, sculpted and pure. Eyelashes, so thick, brim with mystery beneath a poised brow. How her hair cascades and tumbles... links and chains to hold your heart fast.

But do she got huge mams like dis?

My tits are bigger now, everyday growing. I’m a fucking sexpot, there’ll be no slowing! I’ll bust every bra you ever buy me, and blow you senseless, you’ll have to tie me So tight, who cares if we fight? Because I might not be as smart or pretty, sometimes I can be a bit shitty, my giant tittes will please you day and night.

P.s. This bra doesn’t fit anymore. My boobs are at least twice as big now ;). Now tell me you don’t want that.

Morph by jayjay88 >> Stacey posing in her new red bra.

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