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Should I Stay or Should I Blow?

I woke up. Sprawled on the floor, well, more propped on the floor. My massive ass putting me almost on the bed.

The entire room stank of cigarettes, beer, and pizza. My boyfriend snored loud and hard, having most of the bed to himself.

Sighing, I tried to pull myself up, get around my bloated and rubbery body. Each move made my tight skin almost squeak. I debated trying to be quiet, but stopped caring when he gave another loud snore.

I finally managed to get to sitting on the floor, each ass cheek was nearly as big as a bean bag chair. Huge thunder thighs, gigantic gut, and even my tits had gotten bigger. Only my spaghetti strap tanktop was on, and thick with dry sweat.

Fidgeting around I grabbed a cigarette and lighter and set to light it. The room was already soaked in it, didn't care to leave.

My boyfriend sucked at sex.

We only went as long as he lasted, which with my ass as big as a couch never was long. He's came just looking at the thing.

The best I got was the actual inflation. Busting out of clothes, underwear, stretching my skin to its limits. Fucking awesome.

I rocked back and forth to stand, squeaking and creaking from my tight butt.

I looked at our air tank, chewing on my cig. I was still unsatisfied.

I grabbed it, and wheeled it out of the bedroom. My boyfriend had one of those expensive “giant woman” flats. The doors big enough for any pregnant babyball or year long condition bursters. I was glad he had it this time, I could have some privacy for some real fun.

Still, my butt cheeks touched both sides of the huge doors, and bumped against the hall to the living room.

Pulling the dildo off the nozzel I rinsed it. It was up my ass earlier.

I began to think. I had the urge again.

Its perfectly natural I was told over and over again. Every woman occasionally thinks of bursting themselves just because. Because lifes too hard, because inflation feels too good, to go out with a literl bang.

Finishing off my cig I lean against his couch with my massive ass.

What did I care? It'd feel good. Got nothing else going. My boyfriend wasn't doing it for me.

So much pressure to get with a guy and it was so underwhelming. I clench the dildo and nod.

I scrawl “the sex sucked” on a note and left it on the kitchen counter, and waddled over to the living room with the tank.

Sliding the dildo back onto the hose, and then into me I turned on the air flow.

I just savoured this one. Last inflation session, better enjoy the entire thing. Each moment.

My ass already stretched so tight, it only squeaked and groaned as my belly swelled out, filling out my torso.

I bit my lip, and moaned without restraint. In genuine hot pleasure. I didn't care if I woke him, my explosion would probably wake the neighbors anyway.

I moved the dildo in and out until my arms were too bloated to reach. And just let it happen.

I writhed and wiggled, switching from a giant pear to a giant ball.

Bigger, bigger, bigger. Rounder, rounder, rounder. I moaned and bit my lip. My skin growing tighter, tighter, tighter.

It was harder to savour than I thought it would be. The growth from torso to sphere blurred so quickly, from touching self to immobile by sheer girth. I clenched my teeth, and just let myself grow.

I squeaked and groaned, straining to my very limits.

Fucking Awesome.


In that one moment, I blew apart in all directions. I think I saw some of my scraps fly off before it went dark. Best orgasm of my life.



Derek bolted awake hearing a huge bang of someone exploding. Living in the apartment complex he did, he was used to it. But this was close. Like it was in his flat.

Sitting up, he saw his girlfriend was gone, and so was the air tank.

“Abby?” He said, getting up still naked and running to the living room.

Her scraps fluttered down across the room, papers nad furniture and knickknacks blown in all directions.

“What the fu...” He said, finding the note at his feet.