The Perils

by Uncle Stav

Karen was quickly becoming aware that the life she knew and at which she was so practiced would never again be what it was. The incidents of the day -- though seemingly small and unnoticed by others -- were building rapidly and taking her towards the brink of a new and different life. As she skirted quietly away, hunched over and head down, she made every effort to avoid eye contact with any of her co-workers. She was only barely to the hallway door when her grip on her silk blouse slipped slightly. A single breath was stolen and another pearl button sacrificed, this time from midway down her torso. It pinged loudly off the face of the storage cabinet. Clenching her hand more tightly, nearly forcing her nails through her palm, she clutched her other hand to her suddenly very mobile bosom and broke into a desperate, but controlled trot to the women's room.

Once safely ensconced there and having checked for any other inhabitants, Karen moved into a stall and slowly released her grip from her blouse, gasping as expansive tension again took hold of the material. In a violent release, the final buttons were sheared from the blouse and those breasts announced themselves to the day with a leap. Quivering independently � almost comically in light of how still she stood � they slowly came to rest before her. Karen finally let out the breath she�d been holding and sighed in amazement, triggering another shake amongst the melon-sized masses over which she suddenly realized there would be no control. "What the heck am I going to do with these?" she thought.

Her thoughts turned to her life and what it had always been. She had always been achingly pretty -- never beautiful, for that implied too much effort -- just easy to see and to be around. But as is seemingly the way with perfectly good young women, she longed to be more than just who she was. The argument that she didn't need to change fell upon deaf ears. There was certainly no one around to testify to the fact that she was desired in any way. She knew that men never recognized what was good for them, but for crying out loud it had been so long since anyone had shown her more than friendly attention. It had gotten old. Even a smart girl like Karen doubts herself eventually and feels the need to take steps to raise her personal worth.

So one day there were the ads her friends passed jokingly around the secretarial pool, one to another, emphasizing the next person's "obvious need" for augmentation. The ads that fell very reluctantly and very unpromisingly into her purse at office shut down that day. There was a quiet phone call to an 800 number at 11:23 p.m. that evening, when no one else was listening and she was assured that no one, certainly, would know what would eventually arrive in her mailbox. And there were the pills, to which � as she had by now realized but would never again have the opportunity to investigate � something had gone invisibly and horribly wrong. For three days she had faithfully taken the pills with no result. The calm before the storm, as it were.

That morning had actually begun very late into the night before. She had awoken herself several times with her own moaning and frustrated rubbing. Her skin itched so badly that she ached, tossing and rolling again and again in search of relief. And when the alarm went off, she swore at it quietly and resigned herself to beginning the process of going to work. The shower had been a stunning surprise. As the water met her tortured epidermis, it seemed to awaken sensations much deeper within the flesh of her erogenous zones. Her need was unavoidable, the sensations built with the relentless flow of the shower, and the resulting orgasmic battle was fought brilliantly between her astute fingers, the pliant, willing buds of her smallish breasts and her overly agitated clitoris.

That extended shower and the unforgivable weakness she had showed a half hour later in pursuing even more masturbatory pleasure had made her very late to work. She had been forced to replace her panty hose just before she left home. She had raked them thoroughly during her "one last time" session at the door, which had become particularly heated. She had doubts that her car seat would ever come clean, after she thoroughly soaked it as she stole a moment at a thankfully long traffic light. That time she had at least thought to pull down her panties and hose to get them out of the way.

Work had been an ever-growing loss of precious time. Her physical need, the careful planning for moments of relief, the embarrassment of her exquisite and barely concealed torture in the expansive, open hall of rowed desks in the secretarial pool had combined to possess her thoughts and deprive her of concentration. And then, there came the growth -- minute at first, seemingly a puffiness as a result of relentless manipulation, and then sudden and thunderous expansion. It took her by surprise and distracted her so completely that she thought she�d be fired. She struggled with the dual tasks of concealing her visibly blooming physicality and completing the April output logs -- neither with great success, but the concealment being at least passable. In the end, she was amazed that her breasts had somehow not landed on the table or at least drawn more attention than they had. No one was watching her. Sadly, she realized that it was because no one ever did.

And now she stood in a cramped women's room stall on the 15th floor at 3:23 in the afternoon and gazed out across the tops of what had become of her breasts. They were immense � probably an F cup or even more she thought. She envisioned herself as something of a parade blimp. She had just never seen anything of comparable scale on a young, fit woman like herself. In contrast to some of the hugely obese older women she could remember having such bosoms, her quite fit body looked inadequate to the task of housing such protuberances.

And as if taunting her at her weakest moment, the itch returned. This time it seemed to move around her body, starting from the under sides of her beautifully sculpted breasts, up through her cleavage, over the tops of her sloping pectorals and back down to swirl over her hips and buttocks, ending with a flare on her pubis. It was unrelenting. And it was time, Karen decided, to put an end to it by feeding the flames until they were exhausted. She�d never get through the day at all if she didn�t take care of this. She was alone and it did seem unavoidable. Off came her jacket, skirt, the remnant of her blouse, heels, panty hose and panties (her bra having been sacrificed long ago to allow her to breathe).

Her hands were cold in the air conditioning and when they met her heated, tortured skin she shivered and bloomed into goose bumps. Her legs crashed together with a hand mashed between them. As the careful middle finger of that hand found her clitoris, she lurched face forward into the cool marble wall of the stall and noticed the way in which her nipples hardened and distended. Though the breasts were flattened against the marble slab, her nipples continued to assert themselves, seemingly pushing back into the surrounding flesh.

In that moment, she succumbed to complete "erotic immolation." The more she tried to rub it out, the stronger it burned. She stood for only a few moments more before her legs gave out. In her preoccupation with the pounding her quick stream of orgasms were giving her, she collapsed awkwardly and struck her head on the toilet, leaving consciousness in a wet, twitching heap on the cold tiled floor.

When she awoke, Karen found herself in the dark, packed uncomfortably between the toilet and the marble wall of the stall. In that moment, she was grateful that both the walls and the door to the stall (as she discovered by pushing her legs out to test them) extended to the floor of the bathroom. Had they not, someone would surely have seen her lying unconscious and there would have been a very awkward scene for her rescuer. God only knew how many women had used the restroom while she'd been unconscious.

As she attempted to rise from her position, she noted that she was having even greater difficulty than she might imagine, but passed it off as a result of being stiff from the cold and disoriented from sleep. But she seemed to be dragging across the cold bowl of the toilet for quite a while as she angled herself upwards, and when she reached a midway point in standing and began to straighten her legs, she noticed new and odd forces at work in her body. Once standing, she became frightfully aware that there had been even more changes in her physique while she slept. Backing away from the stone wall to ease the cold from the ends of her breasts seemed to take quite a while. And she suddenly felt new contact at her backside, noticing what seemed to be alot of ass coming into contact with the other side of the stall.

"Oh god, it just couldn�t have gotten worse, could it?" she nervously said aloud. She had to get out of that damn stall, but she would not have an easy time of it. Through repeated bounces and scrapes over the surface of the walls and the toilet paper dispenser and the edge of the door, which would just not go idly by, she eventually succeeded. In the dull darkness behind the frosted glass window, she saw what she knew to be a late night sky, but did not know what time it may have been. There was only the barest amount of moonglow lighting the room, but it gave dramatic resonance to the form she found in her reflection on the long wall mirror.

To Karen, it was rather frightening. Karen's breasts were enormous! To simply say that they were each the size of a medicine ball could not possibly do them justice. They projected fully two feet in front of her and were so perfectly formed and molded that they were each stunning, voluminous objects in and of themselves. While they extended at their lowest point to below her belly button, they stood out with an almost unrealistic prominence. As she moved to light them better by the window, they dallied back and forth, but maintained an elevated balance, the nipples forming the apex points to their perfect, graceful curve. When she suddenly noticed her buttocks not so timidly peeking out from behind her she gasped aloud, realizing that she had widened significantly in the hips and that each buttock sat up high and very round on her long legs. Her butt, for that would now be the only appropriate word for it, jutted out precociously to the rear and seemed to flow out over the side in the solid arches of her hips. In comparison, she seemed decidedly unchanged elsewhere, and this only served to heighten the dramatic effect of her damn near comically sexual physique.

But then she noticed her pubic area. It seemed that the crack between her vulva was much lengthened, extending forward and aft more than she could previously recall. And the lips were quite prominent and very fleshy. She now possessed a distinct "mound" of pussy bisected by a deep cleft. As she slid a tentative finger over the vulva, she noticed that they were entirely responsive to the slightest touch and had, indeed, dampened noticeably before she'd traveled their length. And most unavoidable to Karen was the fact that her clitoris was now a prominent, protruding bump approximately an inch across and extending that far as well. It no longer housed itself in modesty, but presented itself brazenly to sight. She could even see it protruding from her profile view. And, as she suddenly noticed, it was currently susceptible to stimulation from the slightest of irritants, like the air movement in the room. As she attempted to cover herself she accidentally bumped the clitoris, which forced a sudden intake of breath. Two rubs of her palm over the engorged ball of nerve made her nearly forget herself, but the sound of the squeaking wheels on the cleaning woman's cart aroused her from her erotic fog.

Scrambling through the darkened room towards the stall and her discarded clothing, she saw the cleaning woman reach through the door with her tong key and turn on the lights. The shock of the flood of light froze her in her tracks. As the cart forced itself through the doorway and entered her immediate space, Karen spun quickly to the side and flung her back to the wall of the last stall, clutching its cold, hard surface as though she could disappear right through it. Her breasts swung wildly with the movement and rocked slowly to a halt in front of her. "God, that's something I'll have to consider from now on," she reminded herself.

The chill that met her shoulders and huge, cushioned buttocks ran over her instantly, tensing her pubis and seemed to travel the vast surfaces of her breasts in a wave. She was aware of her own anticipation as the sensation crept outwards to the ends. Her roseata seemed to puff up and her nipples seemed to elongate well before it reached them and then suddenly burst into taught, hard "fingers."

As lost as she was in the sensation, the sight of the cleaning cart nosing out from beyond the line of stalls was a shocking reminder of her predicament. What in the hell could she possible say to explain the sight of herself to the cleaning woman? Bad enough that a woman is concealing herself in the restroom in the dark in the middle of the night. Add to this that she is nude, and that she is the reluctant owner of perhaps the most awesome pair of tits in the world, and it becomes an extended problem.

In her mind, she exercised the hopeful wish that she might just simply disappear; or be unnoticed and unseen as she had been for so much of her life. In previous stressful or embarrassing times, she had been able to actually pull this off by standing still and unnoticed while the world ignored her. Somehow, she didn't think her present condition would allow this, but she held her breath and watched from the periphery of her vision, as though lack of eye contact would save her.

As the cleaning lady came into view, Karen noticed that she was slowly moving the cart ahead but was bent away from her, reaching for what sounded like new plastic garbage liners on the second level of her cart. She thought about ducking into the end stall, but the cleaning woman would inevitably want to know what anyone was doing in a darkened restroom at that hour of the night. She thought about explaining herself, but announcing her presence now would possibly do no more good than to give the old woman a heart attack. The moment was frozen as the cleaning woman continued to dig and Karen struggled with her dilemma. Her heart leaped into her throat as the woman straightened and placed the bags over the top of the cart.

When she bent over again to reach back for more liners, Karen's mind was made up -- she had to move, and move quickly. She sidestepped along the wall until she realized that while there was just enough room for her hips to slide past, her breasts projected far out over the woman's back. If she straightened up again without warning, she might certainly attribute the bulk on her back to the weight of a large male intruder. That could be very bad indeed. What if this seemingly innocuous old lady knew any self-defense techniques? Karen shivered at the thought of taking an elbow to these tits! Reaching under them, Karen hefted her breasts as best she could (which was not much considering the discrepancy between them and her comparatively much smaller arms and hands) and sidled past into the thin passage to the door. As the cleaning woman had not yet noticed her, she considered trying to grab her clothes, but was overcome with the urge to get away clean and bolted for the door.

Once the doorway had been passed and Karen was "bolting" down the hallway, she came to realize just how ludicrous a thought that was and what a cartoon she must have made while trying to run. The bounding of her breasts could not be diminished by taking smaller steps or by trying to level out her gait. The things carried on at their own, seemingly purposeful, rhythm. She was constantly out of sync with them, which led to some awkward steps and a rather pitiful attempt to hug them into place. She was able to keep them in position for only 3 or 4 steps before the shifting masses would roll out over or under her arms, necessitating a new hold.

The hallways were devoid of life, "thank God" she thought, and the only sounds were those of her bare feet padding along the carpet -- and the occasional light slap of her breasts against her tummy or themselves. She was moving surprisingly well, all things considered. She noticed her calves and her new butt were picking up the bulk of the extra physical strain caused by her recent enlargement. Her butt especially was doing yeoman's work to accommodate for her massive forward thrust and to keep her lower back muscles from exploding. Karen moved around the bend in the hallway, listening intently for any sounds of occupation as she passed. Her hope was that she could at least reach the office and obtain her purse, if everything wasn't totally locked down for the night. It appeared to her that the place really was as deserted as it seemed, but it was difficult for her to register. She had never passed down this hallway without seeing it teeming with office workers, clients and various building staff.

No sooner had she reached the mid-way point than two dark but small forms appeared at the opposite end of the hallway. Karen froze and squinted into the distance to make out whom it might be and how much time she might have to get out of sight. The small forms began to bounce rhythmically, and they seemed to be coming toward her quickly. "Dobermans! Crap!" she thought to herself as she wheeled around and began to run back from where she had come. "I knew these people were a little overly serious about security, but I had no idea they set loose the hounds at night!"

She ran now for all she was worth; the hell with how her boobs felt (which wasn't good, bouncing around like mad) or how badly they threw her off stride. She barely made the turn at the bend without the dogs taking out her legs. This bought her a bare second or so, as the dogs had to recover their momentum to make the turn before they careened into the wall. Karen was in big trouble now, though, and she knew it. It would only take them a few long strides before they were on her. She needed an immediate out. And there it was.

The cleaning lady had left the door to the janitorial closet ajar. If she could just reach it and get in before the dogs -- but the dogs were already at her heels and seemed to be reaching their stride. She flung open the door and backed herself in, while pulling at the edge of the door to make it follow her. But, Karen had made a critical oversight. Her breasts had stopped her momentum against the doorframe and she had to re-double her efforts to draw back into the closet. In the ensuing moment, the dogs caught up and pounced, knocking her back into the cluttered darkness.

She felt the weight of the first dog on her chest and experienced his wet breath in her face as the back of her head made contact with shelving. It felt as though she was bringing down the entire contents of the closet, as shelf after shelf of plastic bottles, rags, bowls and other unidentifiable items cascaded over her as she lurched to the floor. It seemed to take quite a while for her to actually hit the floor, but when she did it produced a noticeable impact. A whole new wave of activity began as the rest of the closet's contents were jarred loose or knocked over and buckets and broom handles began to fall across her. She could see light from beyond the doorway, but soon realized that her vision was obstructed by two great mounds of flesh that were now laying up in the vicinity of her chin.

As things settled over her, she worried about the dogs, not having heard or felt them since the avalanche of cleaning products began. Were they just put off by the commotion and waiting for things to settle before they tore her apart? She was absolutely helpless now -- all kinds of things seemed to be weighing her down and preventing her movement, not the least of which were those damned ponderous breasts in her face. As she attempted to raise her leg to block off the inevitable canine attack, she disturbed plenty of mops and buckets, but accomplished not even a little release.

Karen began to tense up with fear. She was nearly buried in cleaning products, she could not see or move, but she could now feel the dogs at her feet and legs. She could feel them sniffing around, taking in the scene, when without much warning, a completely unexpected sensation stabbed at her. She had been ... licked! A tentative, investigative, lick to her thigh -- a raspy, cool sensation that produced a lurch on her part from the surprise. She suddenly felt very exposed, despite being buried. But the breath of the dog on her inner thigh indicated that, indeed, the one area of her anatomy left uncovered was her abdomen! Her stomach tensed at the realization that she was being nosed around "down there" by this vicious, black animal.

And then a quick flitting tongue made contact with the warm, pliant flesh of her vulva, and Karen stopped breathing. She tensed with the contact from toe to fingernail, through the debris around her, and she waited. She actually found her subconscious looking for the next contact, the next raspy stroke. And when it came, she was still unprepared. The dog began to lick steadily at her slit while Karen felt a rush of sensation run over her pubis. She felt a warmth and maybe a swelling, confirmed by the next licks under which, it was becoming apparent, her lips were becoming vastly engorged. The dog's tongue seemed to linger and to pull them outwards with each stroke. She felt that she was blooming from within to a degree she had never known -- and it was only the beginning of her arousal!

"Oh god," she thought, "what am -- I don't -- oh, oh, ohhh god!" She had begun to question the idea of what was happening; it had to be wrong! But her mind was soon clouded with more urgent messages. Man, this just had to be right! Her body temperature seemed to soar even as she became more aware of being naked on cold, tiled floor. She began to squirm and roll as the tongue fluttered onward oblivious to her feelings. The tongue was joined by another, and the separate, unevenly timed licks sent new waves of pleasure crashing over her brain. She noticed that she had somehow lifted her pelvis off the floor and was arching upwards to meet the offenses of her tormentors. The warm tingling had been floating over her flesh, sending up the hair in goosebumps where it went -- and it soon found her breast flesh. As pushed up and squashed as their masses were, Karen soon found them responding with a muscular relaxation and another sensation of swelling.

She noted that this was different than before. It wasn't a drastic enlargement as much as a loosening of the banded musculature which allowed the breasts to soften and become heavy. In contrast, she could feel her nipples begin to distend, pushing upward into the objects resting over them. They pushed steadily upward until the feeling began to manifest itself in the stretching and the tightness that began to feel sooo good to her. As things began to get really sloppy down below (either from the dog's saliva or her own juice flow or both), the taught, hard dryness of her nipples took her attention. They swelled unbelievably, becoming ever more rigid -- until, until -- oh, she wasn't even aware she was that close!

Karen's body convulsed into spasms of joyful orgasm. It was though she were plugged into an electrical current! She lifted and fell, tensed and collapsed -- all the while she found herself unable to draw breath. Her eyes watered and she tossed her head around in search of air. As the feelings withdrew temporarily, she drew a long, ragged, breath and forced out a quiet, high-pitched squeal. She concentrated once again on her crotch and found the sensations had sadly stopped. She was unaware of it, but her hips were pushed out and her cunny was waving back and forth in search of the renewal of her pleasure. It seemed that it had left her, but she nonetheless enjoyed the wavering moment of lingering warmth and rolled against the garbage in which she was buried, prolonging as long as possible the tactile sensations in which her skin was rejoicing.

It took all of two minutes for her to come down from the sensational high, at which point she began to forcefully wriggle out from the various closet contents. When she was at last able to pull herself to a seated position, three things came to her immediate attention. First, she was tired and weak. She had expended more on her pent up orgasm than she thought. She was having difficulty just raising herself up. Secondly, the dogs were very much gone. She felt almost like a jilted lover, but the image of the dogs and her ... well, she could let that go. Lastly, she was very wet down there and was sitting in a viscous, warm pool of her own sex juice. Her vulva were pressed comfortably into it and she didn't really mind until she lifted herself from it and felt the cool air against the backs of her sticky thighs.

The dogs had vanished; inexplicably called away, probably by their trainer or the guard on duty. Karen had to shake off her stupor to remind herself that she was still naked (seemingly more naked than ever before in her life) in the darkened hallway at her place of employment at some unknown hour of the night. And her legs were dripping with the byproduct of her own surprising and unexplainable passion. She decided to move again, not knowing where to, but to get moving nonetheless.

This time, she headed for the stairwell. As she regained some of her senses, Karen reasoned that with the dogs on the roam her best bet might be to traverse the stairwell to the bottom floor. The elevator, a confined and infinitely accessible space, was obviously out. She found that, though sticky and wet, her cunny was pleasantly reawakened by the movement of her thighs sliding back and forth over one another, providing the necessary pressure to repeatedly caress her clitoral bud. She did her best to put those thoughts out of her mind over the course of the 15 flights of steps she rather slowly traversed. It did little good. The pendulous bounding of her breasts and the comfortable tug this produced, as well as the awkwardness of their rolling at intervals from side to side and then into one another only deliciously heightened her senses. At one point, Karen took to stretching her legs out and walking bowlegged to relieve her clitoral agitation, but that only allowed the cool air of the stairwell to lightly caress the naughty thing and she put an end to it rather quickly.

By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, at the basement level, she was almost completely distracted by the accumulated sensations. Her eyelids were dreamily heavy and her movements more languorous and slow. The juices of her passion were running freely down her legs. Her unconscious mind was rejoicing, while her logic kept her moving towards escape. She went unsteadily through the door at the base of the steps and into the darkened service corridor of the basement. A lighted room about 50 feet down the hallway beckoned her attention, and like a moth she was drawn to its glow. Though her thoughts were clouded, she was aware enough to be cautious of others who might be responsible for the light having been turned on.

Peeking through the window on the door, she saw a table with ashtrays and newspapers on it; this was likely a break room. As she entered, she listened for any sign of occupation but found only the deep hard smell of cigarette ashes and a darkened room off to the right. Flicking on the lights there, she saw a row of lockers, a few benches and a pair of work boots. This must be the maintenance locker room, she thought to herself. In hopes of finding something with which to cover herself, she set about opening some of the lockers and examining their contents.

The third locker contained a relatively clean smelling and unstained coverall which seemed fitting for her purposes. As she began to step into it, Karen noticed a pin-up poster on the interior of the locker door. Represented before her there was one of the most glamorous-looking and stunningly sexual women she had ever seen. She was perfectly coifed and decorated with lustrous gold jewelry, but she was also gloriously nude. Her smooth, tan skin was sensual enough as it traversed her perfect, rounded curves, but what caught Karen's attention were her absolutely immense breasts. They were perfectly formed and projected in a magnificent arch from her chest toward the viewer. The skin was taught and snug around them. But the small scars around her aureola betrayed the fact that this was not a natural occurrence and, Karen thought, partly explained some of the slightly pained expression she began to see in the woman's lipsticked smile. Still, she was very seductively posed and her breasts were really something glorious.

Karen had never taken much time to notice the bodies of other women, usually in an effort to avoid the return recognition of herself. But this woman stood invitingly before her and did not give her cause to avert her eyes. While resuming the task of pulling on the coveralls, Karen could not resist staring at this woman's sexually charged gaze and the voluminous swell of her gorgeous breasts. When she had raised the coveralls to the neighborhood of her upper thighs, she found that her natural inclination was to run the delicate fingertips of her right hand over the inner slope of her dampened crotch, towards the softness of her fuzzy, sticky pubis. This, in turn, invited her further to the very lips of her sex and she was soon enraptured in the absolutely guiltless sensations she raised there.

Her left hand released the coveralls again to the floor and immediately rose to cup as much of the apex of her left breast as she could. She found a veritable handful of swollen aureola and a fingertip-sized nipple that was rubbery to her touch, bent as she fondled it and then jumped back to rigidity as it was released. Karen gasped audibly at the tingling warmth this inspired and grabbed heartily at her distended nipple, gentling pulling and releasing it, and becoming hornier with each successive touch. She noticed that her cunt was leaking fluid again and becoming downright sloppy as she first passed her fingertips and then her open palm over the fat, wet lips and her hard, bobbing clit.

After calling back the dogs and reviewing the security cameras for what or whomever it may have been that set them off, Officer Monroe had noticed the large figure moving past the stairwell cameras towards the basement. Monroe had set straight out to confront whoever it was who was bold enough to be traipsing around the building in the middle of the night. After checking several basement level doors, the officer turned to the break room and saw that the locker room light had been turned on.

Lost in her masturbatory worship of the centerfold model, Karen neglected to notice the light footsteps behind her. Indeed, she hardly noticed and even reveled in the increased activity of another hand joining the work at her cunt. It felt to Karen as though she had simply provided herself with another limb with which to multiply the incredible experience she was enjoying. She did, however, take notice when the clothed arm of that hand rested against her left hip and leaned more heavily into the fray, while a second arm reached around as far as it could to caress her right breast.

Far from being put off, Karen, in her mindless distraction, was only even more interested in the heat generating in her body and in the squirming, grinding motion of her hips and the repeated lifting, grasping and tugging at her nipples. A face was pressed into her back, just below her neck, and was caressing her smooth skin and planting cool, wet kisses there. A raspy, wet tongue lolled from the mouth and began to lick over the skin of her neck and shoulder blades, causing goosebumps to form over her body and sending her into blissful release.

Karen felt limp in the embrace of her paramour as that person continued to work deeply into the crevice of her pussy and to rub an open palm back and forth over the huge nipple of her right breast. Tensing momentarily with the first wave of orgasm, Karen felt her legs struggle to keep her standing as fluid poured over the two hands at her cunt, ran thickly over her thighs and splash audibly to the floor. A surprised "oh!" escaped the lips of both Karen and her anonymous friend while the now more determined chase for ecstasy continued. Both sets of hands were determined to control the flesh over which they passed, rubbing harder over the wetness of her pussy and pushing deeply into the mass of breast flesh, before grabbing hold of the turgid nipple and pulling slowly outward to its maximum distention.

Suddenly, one hand abandoned the right breast, wrapped around Karen's arm and pulled her around until she was backed into the face of the lockers. She saw little more than the head of a woman in a blue shirt with auburn hair braided neatly into a row over the back. The woman's face was briefly obscured as it was pushed into the pillow of Karen's wide breast and immersed itself in the warmth and fullness there. When she withdrew, only to latch hungrily onto the nipple, Karen saw a pretty woman with a desperate, open mouth. She noticed epaulets on the woman's shoulder, long sleeves, a badge and a shoulder patch indicating "Romer Security."

As the woman sucked greedily on Karen's huge nipple, she began to work loose her tie with one hand, while keeping the other in possession of Karen's gushing wet cunt. Rearing back her head and increasing the suction on the nipple, she stretched it out beyond comfort but evoked a long, deep groan from the big-titted goddess. Lisa Monroe was reveling in the pure perfection of this moment, having endlessly fantasized about delighting herself with a big, gorgeous brunette. But in all her dreams, she had never even imagined such a fantastically sexual creature. She tore desperately at the front of her uniform shirt, buttons bouncing off Karen and the lockers, while she pressed her face again into the huge, warm breast. She, too, now had helping hands which were pushing the shirt over her shoulders. One hand was sopping wet and smeared the warm fluid over her shoulder and down her exposed arm.

Barely pulling loose her belt, Lisa's pants were shoved over her wide hips, leaving a great deal of her body exposed, but frustratingly restrained by pants at her ankles and the sleeves holding back her anxious arms. She released her hold of Karen temporarily and leaned back to rid herself of the remainder of her clothing. Karen watched the intense battle Lisa was waging and was taken in by the urgency and passion in her eyes. Lisa leaned in again, with mouth agape and full lips puffy and reddened. Karen was helpless but to throw her arms around the smaller woman and pull her into a passionate kiss. Lisa felt Karen's inquisitive tongue probe deeply into her mouth and locked hers into a loving struggle with it. Karen's massive breasts were mashed heavily into Lisa's smaller but still sumptuous chest. As she pulled her hands from her sleeves, Lisa felt the need to break off the kiss and gasp desperately for air, which was not an easy thing to do, given the crush of that much weight and the passionate strength of Karen's embrace.

As she was being nudged back, Karen became aware of Lisa's intentions and even more aroused by the deep massage of Lisa's hands on the musculature of her breasts. She stood still momentarily as Lisa removed her hands and proceeded to pull off her work shoes and pants. Karen had never, ever touched another woman that she could recall, but her awkwardness in standing straight and nude before Lisa was dissolved in her need to once again feel her sensuous touch. Lisa had to motion for her to remove the rest of the coveralls; she was so completely lost in passionate urges.

Once undressed, Lisa took charge of the encounter while barely containing her own desire to simply "dive in" to the gorgeous woman she beheld in front of her. She turned Karen around to lay back on a long wooden bench in the middle of the room. There, under the harsh light of the overhead lamp, Lisa edged up over Karen's form and buried her face between those incredible boobs. As she reached around each breast to pull them in around her, she noticed that despite their overwhelming mass they hardly fell away from Karen's chest while recumbent. She immediately felt Karen's thighs trap her right leg between them and force it between her labia, where she felt the hardened bud of her clitoris. Her leg slipped around easily between the wet folds of Karen's lips and the thought of that much "liquid gold" was more than Lisa could ignore.

Lisa began her descent by kissing her large friends goodbye, one lick and slurp to each nipple, while slowly pulling on them with her lips. She proceeded to kiss her way down over Karen's tummy, stopping at her belly button, which Karen noticed was also very sensitive, to lick at it and circle it with her tongue. Being as deliberate and patient as she could be under the circumstances, Lisa slowly came to Karen's pubic mound, which reacted to her presence by juicing up noticeably and seemingly opening on its own to beckon her in. The large ball of Karen's clitoris stood up tense and shined wetly, waving about as she tossed in anticipation. Lisa had intended to pleasure her unmercifully for as long as she could stand it, but she found that she was unable to deny her. Lisa opened her mouth into an "o" and placed it fully over the clitoral ball, avoiding direct contact. Lisa breathed a long, hot breath over the spot, sending shivers over Karen's entire body and causing her to arch her back up off the table. With this, Lisa closed her lips over the much-bothered nerve ending and began to slide her lips over it in opposite directions while flicking at it with her tongue.

These simple movements signaled the end of Karen's control. Panting and puffing in quiet squeaks from over Lisa's head, Karen tried to warn her of the impending explosion. She was tensed beyond control and felt a huge let-down coming on. The words wouldn't form for her and, in fact, she was unable to draw enough breath to scream. Suddenly, liquid began spurting from Karen's hole over Lisa's chin and neck, spraying down over her breasts. Noticing this, Lisa made the only move she could fathom -- she pulled back with her lips on the awesome clitoris, using it as a trigger, released it quickly, and put her face directly into the force of the spray, mouth open. Karen's thighs locked around her head while the shower continued in heavy, solid spurts and Karen's cries reached a fever pitch.

Lisa did as much as she could to prolong Karen's pleasure, dipping her tongue into the voluminous fold and sucking off as much cum as she could between spurts. With each contact, Karen's pussy contracted again, beginning a new stream of juices that had soon covered Lisa's face and neck as well as her hanging breasts, and was running down her sides. Karen had now settled into a low moan, punctuated by escalated, piercing grunts. When Lisa had given as much as she could without taking her own pleasure, she pulled away and watched Karen's beautiful, soaking wet pussy open and close on its own, as if gasping for its own breath.

She took hold of Karen's hand and pulled her nearly lifeless form to a seated position on the bench. The two kissed with open mouths, pushing and sucking the juices of Karen's orgasm between their hot tongues. Karen held Lisa's head and began licking over her face, cleaning her of the juices and taking in her own sweetness. Lisa eventually pulled away, leaving Karen's tongue lolling in the air, and spun around to present her privates to her. Leaning on the lockers with one hand, Lisa reached back between her legs, found one of Karen's nipples and pulled it up towards her own fevered clitoris. Karen soon saw her intent and, with both hands, reached under the breast to support its mass and pushed her nipple at Lisa's wet pussy.

The connection was made in an instant. Karen's fat nipple slid directly into Lisa�s crack and immediately slid forward to her clitoris. Between them, the girls found a rhythm to slide the nipple along Lisa's labia and present it repeatedly to bounce off of her increasingly irritable clitoris. Back and forth they gyrated, Karen supporting her ampleness admirably to ensure that her nipple kept up its turgid hammering on the exposed clit. The moment seemed to hang in eternity -- Lisa was working diligently towards the release she had long needed and had even longer fantasized about. Her throaty grunts echoed through the locker room and she squinted her watering eyes in anticipation of the pending blast.

"Mind if I join you?" came the voice, shattering the reverie. Mike Dunstall had long seen Lisa as his eventual conquest and now stood in the break room, on the other side of the doorway, completely naked, stroking at least 10 solid inches of manflesh. From his viewpoint, he did not see Karen. He only saw Lisa leaning on the lockers on tip-toe, reaching down between her legs coaxing herself to orgasm -- her rear end, and Karen, were obstructed by the doorframe. It only made sense to him that she might steal a moment in the middle of the night in the vacant building to pleasure herself. She was one hot babe -- how could she resist herself? Mike had been watching for several minutes, having stumbled innocently enough on the scene, and he had worked up an obscenely huge erection in Lisa's honor.

Lisa jumped at the sound of his voice, standing before him with no possible manner to either cover herself or to deny her own sexual performance. For her part, Karen leaped up from the bench and backed away from the doorway and Lisa, towards an entrance to the shower stalls. There she stood with her arms feebly attempting to cover her naked, dripping breasts, not breathing, wishing she could disappear.

Lisa soon realized by the look on his face and his continuing focus upon her, that Mike had not noticed Karen. "Christ, if he did, he sure wouldn't be looking at me -- not with that bod back there," she thought. Lisa moved forward to fill the doorway, in order to block his view of Karen.

Lisa's breathless panting, her sexy wet features, the rising and falling of her shining breasts, and her glazed eyes, as well her moving toward him, signaled to Mike that the sexual gauntlet had been picked up and the game was afoot. This was pretty far from the truth, as Lisa was an avowed lesbian who was generally appalled by male sexuality in all its brutal rawness. She would put him off and send him packing. She had a damned orgasm to finish and its beginnings were still throbbing deep in her ...

It was at that moment that Mike coiled and struck. He wasn't so threatening as to actually grab her, but bold enough as to simply reach out and place his middle finger on her clitoris and give it a gentle stroke. Lisa's surprise and satisfaction were evident in her immediate intake of breath and the way in which her eyelids fluttered as his long, rough finger dragged over her bud. Seeing the effect of his contact, Mike renewed his finger rub with two, then three, fingers while palming her abundant left breast. In the haze of her arousal, Lisa responded only naturally ... by allowing him to continue. All other considerations were lost, including Karen.

Karen had by now backed completely into the showers, but could hear the onslaught of Mike's sexual attack, as Lisa's voice wavered again into the familiar moans and breathy grunts of moments ago. The sound and the visual image being played in her mind strummed across Karen's still engorged clitoris and re-aroused her passions. She was just about to step back out into the room and assume a sharing role in Mike's assault when she heard more voices from the outer room.

Lisa's eyes opened with horror as she heard the early morning maintenance crew, not one of which had ever neglected to spy her obvious physical charms before, enter the break room and come to a halt before the vision of Mike's naked back and her very naked front. With Mike's hand lodged in Lisa's most comfortable spot, while she stood on tiptoe against the doorjamb with her hand over his shoulder, the crew was left with no doubts as to the nature of the scene taking place. Mike renewed his onslaught on her tortured bud, robbing her of her impetus to leave and forcing her back into submission to the needs of her own libido.

The rest was a blur of hoots and grunts for Karen, who quickly exited from the stalls through an anterior door. The thought of the gang bang commencing back there was more than she could handle in her still uncertain state of mind and she made a quick and quiet, though wobbly, retreat. Let there be no doubt, Lisa Monroe would be rudely re-introduced to the horrors of heterosexual sex that early morning -- in a big way. But, as Mike handed off his responsibilities for Lisa's digital stimulation to the next guy in the train, bent her over and pushed his huge, fat cock between her engorged cunt lips, Lisa realized that her fire would, indeed, finally be quenched.

Will Karen ever be able to leave the building? Will she ever again get dressed? What the heck do "big" girls like Karen do with themselves and will she be able to lead a normal life? How many more perils await her? What will "cum" of Lisa and will she ever see her big-titted goddess again? Tune in next time for some of the answers.�