The Interrogation 4 (Chapter 10)

This was as close as Austin could come to motorboating, though given how much of a size advantage this chick’s individual tits had over his skull, it felt far more like her cleavage was in the driver’s seat, but he didn’t mind that so much, especially while her buttocks kept on gyrating against his tent, which was only a few more good bounces away from leaving a stain on the curvaceous horizons of her cheeks. It was incredible how, despite the fact that this woman was sporting a better booty than any dancer Austin had yet test-run, the immersion in her prodigious boobs made those lower assets seem like bony mosquito bites by comparison. Yes, they dipped a little, revealing she wasn’t exactly twenty-three any longer, but Austin had always harbored a secret appreciation for ladies bordering on milf territory, and now was the time to take advantage, while no one was watching.

“Would you like a taste of something sweet?” the woman’s captivating voice moaned in Austin’s ear. “Feels like someone’s getting thirsty.”

Now fully under her sexual spell, with his hips obeying every shimmy of her ass and his face jammed blissfully in the limbo of hugging bosom flanks, the guy was quick to nod his head up and down as violently as her cleavage’s grip on his cranium could allow. Though reluctant to be extricated from the puffy sandwich of those ultra-pliable zonkers, leaden with cellulite and lust, Austin allowed himself to be guided backward out of the dancer’s gifts by a fingernail pressed to his Adam’s apple, leaving him panting for relief and whatever it was she was teasing. Of course, where he came from, that particular question in such a personal setting meant only one thing, so the blindfolded customer kept on savoring the relentless thumping from her super bass and opened his mouth to receive.

Sure enough, two long fingers touched Austin’s lips, her digits dripping down to the knuckle with creamy liquid, not as gooey as he expected, and wiped it all along his extended tongue. Breathless, the boy waited for a second helping as the flavorful fluid made his taste buds tingle, and his patience was rewarded with another dollop. So caught up in the moment, and enjoying the flavor, Austin’s assumption that he was eating the dancer’s cum made him overlook the distinctly bovine, milkshake-like notes of the drink missing the usual feminine spice of such temptations.

In time, he became brave enough to suck on the woman’s wet fingers each time they offered him another swipe, and Austin turned more daring in his fondling, feeling up the undersides of her breasts, enraptured at the realization that propping those weighty half-wilted globes up for more than a few seconds at a time made his wrists tremble. He was buff enough that he wouldn’t have expected to have such trouble, though he chalked this up to his clumsy position, pinned down in an armchair by an ass that just seemed to get more prominent the longer the dance lasted.

In fact, if Austin didn’t know any better, he’d have guessed her butt was slowly inflating like an air mattress, able to cover more of his thighs with each wonderful minute spent beneath her. When she’d first taken a seat on his trunks-clad member, the mysterious woman had to shuffle those cheeks from leg to leg to give him full coverage, but now, especially when she unclenched the bounty of her bottom at the base of each dance move, her booty beef seemed to spread itself wider, encompassing surface area from hip to hip and knee to crotch at once.

Though he gratefully slurped yet more dessert-rich nectar off the dancer’s fingers, Austin was sufficiently taken aback by her cans caving in on his chest and the increasingly hulking mass of that fanny stealing the sensation from his legs, enough to even halt his hard-on energy, perhaps the worst crime of all. Reaching up to pinch back the blindfold, he was caught up again when the dancer’s high-beams encroached nearer, almost as if blocking his attempt, and he was too hypnotized by the whole affair to even notice until he’d spent another minute feeling excess boob-skin sag like microwaved craft putty between his outspread fingers cupping her from below.

Making another attempt to reach his blindfold, which turned out rather difficult in this hazy asset-smothered position, Austin was again delightfully impeded by the woman’s palm, feeling rather more spacious now, gripping his hair from the scalp and plunging his face back into the greasy gaping mouth of her naked rack. Even two minutes ago, he wouldn’t have minded in least at being manhandled this way, but the developing lack of sensation in his thighs underneath these cushiony hindquarters was worrying enough now that Austin’s vulnerability while blinded suddenly felt less like a kinky perk and more like weakness, a feeling only worsened by his inability to pry himself out of the quashy cavity so near to her heart. Were her tits blowing up, too?

“Maybe we should take this party somewhere else, huh, stud?” the inflatable woman whispered down into the narrow sweltering canyon of her cleavage, her tantalizing syllables reaching Austin’s ears still despite the sheer volume of fat hocks blooming around his head. “Got any friends who might like to join us? My goods might just be a little too much for one boy to handle alone.”

Ordinarily Austin would’ve been more disturbed at a girl’s suggestion that they even dream of introducing another penis into the proceedings, though the far more pressing matter now was the literal pressing matter of her pudgy boulders, not only drooping too hard against his tremoring hands from below to be lifted a single doughy inch, but surging inward around his jawline and covering the top of his head. It felt as close as Austin could imagine to having one’s neck clamped in a guillotine, though without even the mercy of still seeing and breathing out the other side for a short while before the blade finally dropped through his windpipe.

Beginning to unhinge for the first time this whole surreal dance, he gave up trying to chest-press her rotund pectoral weight and instead flailed both his arms, slapping the outer regions of her breathtakingly humongous udders, but found this only made the interior claustrophobia worse, like punching his own face with a pair of hormone-fragrant sweat-slimed sandbags the size of exercise balls. Resorting instead to defensive kicking, or at least attempting so, Austin was astonished to find his lower limbs were of even less help, immobilized and tickled by pins-and-needles numbness due to the scale of the ass burying him deep into the armchair padding, the rounded rim of each of her bare cheeks spilling over the young man’s dwarfed quads in a way that made him feel like an uncut scrub for the first time in years. With little other recourse, Austin roared into the poofy walls muffling his lips, demanding to be let out.

“I’ll take that as a no, then? Well, as I’m sure you know, after enough drinks, even bad ideas start to seem like great ideas. So maybe we’ve got to pour another couple down you first. Open wide, and remember, you can touch, but no peeking.”

Naturally, the moment Angelina pulled Austin’s moderately-shrunken head back out of her motherly embrace, he started wailing all over again. Quicker than the horny buzzed dolt could grab his blindfold, however, the vixen angled his face just far enough to the side for her to land another squirt of milk in his cheeks. While Austin struggled to inhale through the frothy stream, she dipped him directly back into the perspiring vice of her chest, leaving him to wriggle and gasp into the swollen void of mammary molding to the shape of his entire head at once. As the guy was already reduced down to three feet, Angelina took this opportunity to adjust herself, careful to let his lessened member prod just between the divide of her thighs, leaving her in a good position to steam-roll his valiant little stiffy with the enormity of her ass the next time the background music threw in a good bass drop.

“Excuse me, sugar, but we’re indoors, so please use your indoor voice,” Angelina politely requested down through the central crevice to the headlocked lad grappled in her sacs. “I’ll let you out for some fresh air, but only if you agree to be a big boy about it, even though that’s the last thing you’re going to feel like by the time I’m finished here. I’m guessing you’d like this dance to have a happy ending, and I’m more than glad to give you one, but to make sure it goes that way, you’ve got to let me in on a dirty little secret: where are Logan and the other two lunkheads?”