Advertising Job

Author:
Inflation Types:
Popping:
Sexual Content:
Date Written: 
11/03/2018

Twenty bucks an hour, let me tell you, that sort of pay is a miracle in today’s entry level job market. Probably because the people running this business think it’s necessary to justify what the job entails. I think that’s hilarious, I would have done this for free.

They keep a nervous representative by me while they hand me the helium tank, talking about “agreements,” and how this is “aggressive marketing,” all sorts of jargon meant to satisfy someone other than me. I don’t need some lackey trying to calm my nerves, the helium will do that better than he ever could. I snatch the hose from the plucky girl they have helping me on the physical side of things. Her face is bright and etched with curiosity. It occurs to me she may have less than professional reasons to oversee this operation. Good, I always do enjoy introducing other people to my hobby. She ties the banner around my ankles and gives me the signal.

I twist the nozzle, and the representative’s rambling is interrupted by the sound of helium rushing up the hose into me. He falls silent, excusing himself before walking off, saying something about the brash youth. The woman on the other hand is enthralled, staring intently at my chest as the helium makes its pressure known. Under my sweater, my breasts swell up, perky and light with gas. My decision to forego a bra was a wise one for today. Rounder and rounder I grow, becoming bigger than what the best plastic surgeons could offer. My sweater pulls snug about my burgeoning assets as the material easily stretches to accommodate my increasing size. It quickly fails however, slipping up and over my stretching skin. Already, I feel lighter on my feet, my chest pushing up as much as out. I lay my arms across the top of my chest, giving my boobs a pat that results in a lovely boing.

The girl is completely out of it by now, I have her undivided attention. She continues staring at my pneumatic mammaries, reaching up to cup her own small pair. I can see longing in her eyes, and I decide to seize the opportunity to enlighten another one. Slapping the side of one breast, I jostle her with the noise and she looks me in the eyes suddenly. Before she can sputter out some half-hearted apology, I give her a wink and a come-here finger. She’s shy, adorably shy, but I watch as her curiosity gets the better of her as she steps forward. Reaching around one massive boob, I take her hand and put it on my breast, inviting her to feel what pressurized helium can do for girls like us. It works like a charm. Soon she’s gently prodding and squeezing, feeling how I expand into her grasp.

Soon though, our time comes to an end. I rise to my toes as my tits grow wider than her armspan, and for a moment I remain grounded by the banner tied to my ankles. But with a few seconds more, I leave the ground, drifting lazily into the air. She tries to hold on, but my rounded bust doesn’t prove to be a viable handhold. Squeaks echo as her hands slide down the material of my sweater, before she loses her grip and is forced to grab an ankle of mine. I quickly spit the hose out, letting it fall to the ground beside her feet. I look down to meet her astonished gaze, watching her try to form words in her mouth. Before she can, I shush her, reaching down to take her hand. She pulls me down in her grip, my only anchor to the Earth.

“You interested by what you see?” I ask.

She nods, gazing at my inflated breasts as they wobble naked in the air.

“I have five hours up there before I come back down.” I slip a notecard out of my pocket with an address scribbled on it. “Meet me here afterwards, I have some friends you might like to meet.”

She nods again, pocketing the notecard. I let go of her hand and rise once more into the sky. The banner trails beneath me as I pass the rooftops, my advertisement being broadcasted for the world to see. I can hear people below shouting, looking up at the girl with the balloon breasts flying away. I don’t listen. All I do is lay there on a sea of breezes, letting buoyancy gently carry me away.

Twenty bucks an hour and a new friend. I should do this more often.

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