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Push Play

He stumbled a bit as he ran inside, slamming the door behind him and kicking his shoes off along the way. His bag rolled haggardly down the stair case, its contents spilling out as it went, but it didn't matter; his ephemeral world was grasped tight in his hands. Another slammed door, a bed lightly creaking under his weight, a giddy laugh followed by a sigh of relief echoed through the home. He only had a few hours to himself, and he planned to make good use of it.

Expertly thumbing through the various menus on his cellphone with one hand, the other clumsily fiddling with his pants, he clicked up a recently recorded video. Setting the phone aside he focused his attention on the stubborn pant button, quickly removing his clothes prison and sliding it off the edge of the bed.

He peeled his shirt off, tossing it to the side as well. He rubbed his warm, soft chest, feeling his heart pounding, his tented boxer shorts pulsing with it. He lay back, raising his hips to the air and sliding the last bit of linen covering his shame, dropping it to the side as he rolled over to retrieve his phone.

A tap of his claw on the digital screen and the rest of the world faded from him. He stared as though under a spell, long, silent breaths, a hand gently stroking his warm length as the video played.

Shaking footage of dark metal lockers, horrific lighting only made possible by fluorescent tubes, an occasional mirror and wooden bench, all blurring by in their insignificance. A momentary pause, then something special enters the frame, drawing a light groan from the voyeur.

Clad in naught but a towel, a shining wet and pure example of the male figure strides to a nearby locker. He drops his only covering, unaware of the young cameraman hiding at a distance, revealing a body so beautifully crafted Michelangelo would have wept in shame.

A twist and turn of the lock dial, snapping it off and tossing it aside, clicking open his locker and finding, to his confusion, a balloon sitting inside. He takes it in hand, the camera pulling back as he turns to look around the room. After a moment he is recentered in frame, the unwitting star for his biggest fan's film.

He looks at the latex object in his hand, and with a chuckle and shrug he places it to his lips and draws in a long, deep breath. Slowly the sound of rushing air fills the room, piercing the silence and mind of the viewer. His gaze fixed on the growing balloon, the hissing ringing in his head, his hand delicately working his shaft.

It only takes a few breaths before the latex is pulled tight, its opacity faded. The being raises his hand high and releases, turning the toy into missile, flying about, and signaling that it was time to leave. More blurred lockers and benches, the video cutting off after a few more short moments.

He strokes his member with zeal, rolling onto his back, the phone still clutched tight in hand. He pants heavily, sweating, fluids lightly oozing from the tip of his pulsing rod, though still a bit from being finished, he frees his grip, relaxing for a moment, replaying the scene over and over in his head.

The bright red balloon, its nozzle being pressed against that gorgeous face, being filled with his breath, being blown up and stretched; oh how he envied that latex scrap. He huffed and panted, rolling onto his belly and climbing off the bed.

A somber march to his closet, pushing the doors apart and digging through the clothes he produces a bicycle pump that looked like it had been used many times in the past. Tossing it onto the bed, he glances at the clock to make sure he still has time. Nodding and reassuring himself, he leans onto the bed, raising his round, plush rump into the air.

A deep breath to help him relax and he takes hold of pump's hose, pressing it to his tight tailhole. Another deep breath and he pushes it in, grunting a bit as it slides uneasily into him. After a few moments he pauses, staring at the phone, moving it out of the way as he climbs onto the bed once again.

He lays on his side, pulling the pump through his legs and standing it up in front of him. Looking to his phone, he slides his finger across the screen and taps it, the idol once again placing the balloon to his lips. The plunger on the pump is pulled up, and just as the balloon begins to bloat outward, so does his slender middle.

He closes his eyes and listens to the hissing from the video, feeling his innards slowly fill with air. The hissing dies, a sign to pull the plunger up, the hissing restarting just as he does. He moans, his belly gurgling as more air is pushed into it, further distending his torso by the second.

Groaning and moaning as he strokes his shaft, shivering at the feeling of his body being blown out of proportion, the hissing continuing to pour out from the small speaker. The sudden sound of a balloon flying through the air catches his attention, his eyes opening to see his seemingly impregnated belly.

A few playful rubs and hollow pats before turning to the phone and setting the clip to play again, his penis pulsing, drumming against his ballooned middle. He taps the screen again, lying back down, and continuing. He works his shaft slowly, wanting to make the feeling last as long as possible.

The hissing rings out and the plunger pushes down, in perfect synchronization. He moans louder now, feeling his belly beginning to push its size. Flesh growing tight, he grits his teeth, a moan of both pain and bliss escaping him. This is where he wanted to be.

Another hiss from the phone, he pushes the plunger down, arching his back and panting. He's relieved when the hissing stops, if only for a moment before it begins again, as does his obligatory filling. He pumps his shaft fiercely, imagining those sweet, sexy lips pressed against his hole, those powerful hands holding his slender hips in place, the hissing shortly dying off.

He glances down as the balloon sails around the digital room once again, and marvels in wonderment at his size. His large dome of a belly could easily get him rushed through a maternity ward, with an expectance of at least three offspring. He lovingly runs a finger over his sensitive navel, shivering a cooing in delight.

Staring at his belly, he cautiously pushes against it, finding it to have a little give left in it. He bites his lower lip, his gaze shifting down to his phone once again. He stares at it, a profusion of profanities parading through his mind. He rubs his pulsing member a few more times, breathing slowly, his thoughts cloudy.

A light, shaky tap on the screen, and his hand finds its way back to the pump handle. He closes his eyes tight, vigorously working himself over, sweating and panting, his lust polluted mind focusing on anything but how tight he already is. He swallows hard, listening intently for the signal, the gurgling of his obscenely stretched stomach making it hard to concentrate.

Hissing fills the air again, a moment of hesitation, then slowly the plunger goes down once more. He grits his teeth, groaning and curling his toes as the pressure inside him climbs. He raises his hips into the air, rapidly pumping his rod, falling back down to his bed when the hissing stops, panting in relief.

This break is short lived however as his dreamy Adonis turned maniacal delusion began to blow into the balloon again, and thus he pumped himself fuller. He could almost hear his body groaning as it filled, hardly growing any larger, but most assuredly growing tighter.

Another break. He lyed back, his insides feeling as though they would give out any moment, but he couldn't stop, not while this titan still had breath in him. He glanced at the screen, hoping to see a sympathetic face looking back at him, telling him he could stop.

The figure huffed into the balloon again, and his hand, following the recently taught pattern, pushed down on the plunger.

He cried out, a mix of absolute bliss and utter pain as he fired his hot load into the air. A few powerful, well placed spurts arched over his belly, splattering on his chest, nose, cheeks and even into his open maw. the rest thoroughly coated his drum tight belly, giving it a brilliant shine, much like that of a balloon.

The hose popped out with minimal fuss, the sound of the balloon whooshing around the room causing him to laugh despite his current state. He layed still for a few moments, collecting himself, before carefully pulling himself up and heading into the bathroom to cleanup and deflate.

A short while later, smelling more of lavender and hairgel then seed, he pulled his clothes back on, put his pump away, and headed downstairs to game for the remaining alone time. He grabbed his phone, placing it in his pocket, pulled the door open and headed down, picking up his bag as he went, stashing away all the balloons that had fallen out.