Tags: Full Body Inflation, Female Inflation, Male Inflation
Text: "Quickly now, we don't have much time."
Still gazing into me with that mischievous smile of hers, she reaches over and sets the fizzing concoction back down on the dimly lit kitchen counter. I smile back, losing myself in her magical eyes - still not quite believing what I've been told; bewildered at how she knew, at how she new so much.
"No complaints here," I whisper.
We embrace gently now, nose-to-nose. Her arms are up over my shoulders, hands in a loving caress as mine cascade down along her sides, fingers searching for the small of her back. Each of us presses into the other, basking in the intimacy.
I tremble.
We close our eyes. A kiss.
She pulls back with a slight gasp - I felt it, too. A muffled hiss rises.
I cast my gaze downward, watching as the curves peeking out from beneath their lacy restraint slowly begin to swell upwards and outwards.
She, too, looks down as the cups of her bra push her billowing assets together. They squeak in protest, attempting to circumvent their cotton bonds.
Our eyes meet again. She smirks, raising an eyebrow as if to scold "do you believe me now?" My widening eyes answer in an emphatic "yes!" Again we press into each other and as she rests her head against my shoulder, I can feel her chest growing against mine. I reach down with great care and enter her loosened blouse from below, sliding my hands up along her back to embrace her shoulders from the rear. My fingers slide along the straps, and then gently beneath as they grow tighter by the moment. Thumbs and forefingers find the clasp and with one deft movement, it releases. The loose ends fall to the side and I find her waist again.
She turns around in my arms, pressing into me more urgently as she guides my hands over her tummy. I caress it for a moment, and then reach upwards until I encounter the fabric covered under wires and the curves of the garment's cups. I can feel her ballooning through the fabric, pushing my fingertips out of the way.
The hiss rises.
Carefully, I slide my hands beneath the cups as if to banish them, substituting myself in their stead. My fingers work their way along her fullness, gently gliding along the inside of the cushioned fabric. She continues to perk and I soon find that her softness yields slightly less than before, spreading my fingers apart as her flesh presses out between them.
A balloon spell, indeed - just as she described. I'll never again castigate her for having a weird hobby. No, sir. I just won't do it.
As I gaze over her shoulder with my cheek behind her ear, the smell of her fragrant hair fills my senses and I sneak a peek down at her deepening cleavage as it pushes out from behind the unbuttoned blouse.
She grinds her hips into me for a moment, alerting me to what's happening down below and I reluctantly extricate my hands from her swelling chest. Amusingly, her breasts fall upwards against the blouse, already buoyant. Their ascent is checked by the fabric of the blouse, behaving as would a tether.
Gliding down her midriff, my hands find their way to the waistband of her sweat pants, then dive beneath and find that her thighs have joined in on the swelling. Working my way around to her hips I can feel that they are following suit. Her backside, too, seems to have joined the chorus and as it expands I can feel her lower back pushing away. She rests her arms atop mine and then gently coaxes my hands back up to her tummy.
This hissing intensifies.
Her belly begins its inflation, its dome swelling while my hands choreograph a gentle caress. I soon find that they are retreating from each other as the surface expands. Warm and soft, when I press inward it gently returns the effort. She shifts her weigh on her feet as if measure her stance, causing her thighs to rub together through the material of her sweats, sounding like the two balloons they are becoming.
Suddenly, she pushes away and twirls around to face me, clasping my hands in hers. Her countenance is alight with excitement as she looks at me. "Hold on tight now," she admonishes. I intertwine my fingers with hers, our thumbs playing with each other's.
As she stands before me, I am astonished at the transformation. My face must be doing a good job of illustrating my thoughts because she giggles at my expression as I look her up and down. Before me stands the most voluptuous creature I have ever beheld. Her skin is smoother, softer, and is almost shiny. Her inflated breasts jut out proudly from the blouse to just below her chin, urgently pushing upward to free themselves - and almost succeeding. Even her shoulders have swollen a slight bit. They are softer and curvier than I have ever laid my eyes upon. Despite her newly inflated belly, rounded and curvaceous hips flare out from below a still remarkably narrow waist into soft, enticing thighs.
The hissing continues, and all about her she is still inflating as her curves continue their jubilant exaggeration. It is as if she is my own personal parade balloon woman. Slowly, I feel her pull up on my hands, as it seems she is elevating herself by standing on her toes. But looking down again, I see that she is no longer in contact with the floor. I watch as her legs rise and her body approaches the horizontal. Again, we are face to face. Her bra hangs loosely, dangling from her shoulders, as her rounded breasts seem to engulf her torso, insistently pushing her upward.
With only our hands for leverage, together we are able to hold her there in front of me for a moment, but the lift continues to increase and we are unable to fight it as she rotates to the vertical. With her above me now, it looks as if she is balancing on my arms like an acrobat. Her raven black hair falls down in front of her face into mine, tickling my nose as I look up at her. The undone blouse has fallen down and has gathered at the base of her neck and her legs rise vertically toward the ceiling high above. The lift generated by the gas continues its progress and it takes more effort for us to keep our hands together.
As if on queue, the hissing begins a slow retreat.
It is my turn to guide her hands, now, and I pull her down to me so that she can grab my collar one-by-one in her fists. My shirt slides up along my back when she grabs hold but it remains secured around my arms. As I reach up and around her shoulders, she manages to fight her body's buoyancy enough begin swinging her legs down. I pull down on her upper back as she pivots downward - so much lift! Together, we are able to bring her down so that we are again facing each other, albeit she a little higher up than I. Carefully, I wrap my arms around her waist and I am delighted to find that that I am staring directly into her marvelously inflated cleavage. She wraps her arms around my head, drawing me into her soft chest. I nuzzle her, gently kissing the inside of each swollen breast as they bobble up into my face like a bouquet of helium balloons.
The hissing has stopped, now.
I slide my hands around her waist and find it isn't too difficult to press down on her newly flared hips so as to bring her to eye level. Playfully, I push down a little more forcefully and then let up, allowing her to float upward remarkably quickly. This surprises her a bit, but I make sure to stop her ascent. Again, I push down on her hips and bring her to eye level with me and she takes the opportunity to wrap her squeaking thighs around my hips, straddling me. Her inflated potbelly pushes into my midsection as she reaches under my arms and hugs me. I can feel the skyward pull she has on me; most certainly she would shoot up to the high ceiling and receive a bump on the head if we let each other go.
And so, again, we find ourselves nose-to-nose. Looking me directly in the eye, she whispers, "It's now, or never".
Understanding perfectly the ultimatum, I begin to tremble again - adrenaline-fueled butterflies in my stomach taking flight. Have they been present the whole time? I... I - simply can't remember. I hesitate, excitement and fear in my eyes.
"It's okay. We'll be okay," she says to me, her lilting voice like a siren song.
My hands shaking, I reach over to the counter and pick up the glass, bring it to my lips, and down the remaining half of its fizzy contents. Her smile broadens and she kisses me on the cheek. Quaking even harder now, I place the empty container back on the kitchen counter, almost dropping it.
I wrap my arms around her once more and she tightens her grip on me. Our warm intimacy once again established, she coos to alleviate my distress. Slowly, I begin my trek towards the door and out onto the deck.
But suddenly, I stop. The muffled hiss has returned, but this time it is different - much more immediate, sounding as if it is coming from everywhere. I tense at the realization and she instantly knows what I am experiencing. Kissing me on the cheek, she asks, "See? Not so bad". Wide-eyed, I nod - the surprise still omnipresent.
But I resume my slow march toward the door, careful that I may not lose my footing and let go. Through the open French doors and outside on the wooden deck, the lights from the kitchen dimly illuminate the trees that stand just beyond the redwood railing. The night air is cool and dry and the scent of the pines washes about us. The gentle pressure continues its rise in me and as I stand there inflating with this beautiful woman in my arms, I begin to feel light on my feet.
High above, the arc of the surrounding treetops frame the stars of the Milky Way as they smile down, pleading for us to join them.
Such a gracious invitation, it is. How could we refuse?