Homecoming

I grew up next to Laura Hillman and her daughter Kate since my family moved in when I was in ninth grade. Before I really met a single person in high school, Ms. Hillman was my closest friend, and remained so even up till I left for college. I was a latchkey kid -- Mom and Dad both worked most of the day, so when I'd come home, I would have the house to myself. Ms. Hillman would always come over. We'd talk about school, about the guys in my class, and anything else that came up. I wouldn't have survived high school if it wasn't for the kindness of my closest neighbor.

Ms. Hillman was perhaps a little young for a mother when I met her. She was in her late 20s -- she couldn't be older than 35 now. When we moved in, it hadn't even been a month since she gave birth to Kate. It astounded me even then how fit she was after her pregnancy.

Kate, by now, would be seven, perhaps eight. Ms. Hillman didn't talk much about the father -- only that it ended the best way it could. It never bothered her much to think on it. Nothing particularly bothered Laura Hillman. Nor her daughter, from what I've seen.

Growing up next to such a sweet woman was what caught me off guard when I discovered something I most definitely should not have. I noticed her conspicuous absence one day after school. Being the overly-concerned person I am, I thought something was wrong, so I went over to her place to investigate. I knocked on the door, but was met with silence. Her blue four-door sedan still sat in well-kept condition in the driveway, so she must have been home. Curious, I began to walk around to the side of the house, careful not to tread too closely to her azalea bushes.

I peeked into a window -- it was Kate's room. Empty. That was when I remembered she started preschool the week before. I sighed, figuring she may have gotten a ride with someone else, and began to cross the lawn back to my house. But just then, I heard a faint, constant hissing, perhaps from a fan or a faucet. My curiosity piqued once more, I checked another window. Inside, I could see Ms. Hillman, sitting on the edge of her bed, with her back towards the window. I ducked down low, prepared to drop if she turned around.

I'm not sure what compelled me to spy on her -- I had no reason to imagine anything out of the ordinary was going on. But for a while after that, I regretted doing so.

Suddenly, she undid her blouse, tossing it aside and revealing her white lace bra and bare, milk-chocolate skin. I blushed in embarrassment, but remained focused, somehow unable to tear myself away from watching her strip. Her bra came off next, then her jeans. The hissing continued. Now in nothing but her panties, Ms. Hillman scooched back on the bed, spreading her legs and doing...something near her crotch. I couldn't see anything but her almost-naked body from the back, clad only in her panties and a pair of black heels. Her jet black hair melted down around her shoulders and back. Suddenly, the hissing quieted, became muffled, and she removed her hand from her crotch. I gulped, unsure what was going on or what to expect.

Of all the things I could have imagined happening, I never expected to see Ms. Hillman's stomach suddenly pool out between her thick thighs, billowing out to the sides and forcing her to lean back to accomodate it. Her breasts also puffed up, and she began to squirm in place, her shoulders rising and falling slightly as she breathed. My eyes started to tear up, as I realized I was witnessing something forbidden, some ritual only meant for Ms. Hillman.

Then I began to see the impossible happen - her thighs, her arms, every inch of her began to bloat as though she were made of rubber. Slowly, her body grew, and grew, until her limbs were scarcely recognizable. She lay on the bed, leaned slightlly back as she flapped her hands helplessly. Then, my fear rose as I saw her float up into the air. I feared now not only that I would get caught, but that Ms. Hillman would burst, or become stuck as a balloon-person. I was confused, frightened, and humiliated. Without staying to see more, I turned around and sprinted back into my house.

I couldn't stop thinking about the incident for months. I did my best to act normal around Ms. Hillman -- who had quite obviously survived being blown up -- but I'm not sure she bought it sometimes. As time went on, things went back to normal, but the experience never left me. Fear turned to curiosity, and curiosity turned to vivid recollection, desperately trying to understand what I saw. Time went by, and what I wanted so desperately to forget was now being drawn in margins of my notebook, being remembered almost every day when I saw Ms. Hillman. Eventually, it turned to something that at once frightened and confused me. But it felt good. It even felt right. I didn't have to tell anyone but the shadows in my bedroom. And once I had finished, I adjusted myself under my blankets, still red and panting, before I drifted off to sleep.

College was a big to-do for everyone, especially Ms. Hillman, who kept talking to me like I was leaving forever. I promised and promised to come back in the summer. The first year went by, I made friends, had new experiences -- summer came and went, but I didn't return home. I e-mailed my parents and Ms. Hillman, but ultimately got involved in more classes. The second year was the more interesting though. I began to experiment. More and more I became secure in my identity -- but only a few people really knew. I had a fling with one of the girls from my French class, something that began as a tutoring session to help me pass midterms, and ended with us whispering the so-called "language of love" into each others' ears, hands down each others' pants and lying on the bottom bunk in her dorm room. I thought I would be scared, and run out of the room. But something about it felt too natural for me to ignore, and I went with my most basic impulses. It was a liberating feeling. It still is.

That summer, I decided to drop the two classes I had enrolled for, deciding to make them up another time, and went home. Of course I was greeted by Mom, Dad, and Ms. Hillman, given a big "welcome home" dinner, and afterwards, things were more or less back to normal. For the next week, I started looking for a summer job, and Mom and Dad would, as usual, leave the house to me while they went to work.

It was only natural that my thoughts would turn to Ms. Hillman.

One rainy day, she came over carrying an umbrella. I invited her inside, and we started talking extensively for the first time since I'd came home. I told her about my classes, the trips my friends and I took, all sorts of things. I could tell she missed talking to me. I discovered Kate was at a sort of kiddy summer camp for a week or two -- Ms. Hillman had worried she would go stir-crazy if I hadn't come back.

"It's the same when she goes to school... I still work from home, so between clients I don't have much to do. I was thinking of getting some kind of game system, but I would probably be horrible at it!" she said with a laugh.

"Well I've already planned to be here all summer, so you're welcome over any time! You can even play MY games if you want."

She giggled as she relaxed in her seat. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room as raindrops continued to clap loudly against the window. "Urgh, this weather... Someone has a sick sense of humor to call this summer."

"Well, you know you're welcome to stay as long as you like. My parents won't be home for at least--" What the fuck was I saying?! Stopping myself short, I leaned back into my seat on the couch, acting as best I could as if nothing had happened.

Ms. Hillman had certainly noticed though. She smirked with amusement, leaning forward. "At least a while, hm? And what do you suggest we do with that time?"

There was no way this was happening. I went white. Was Ms. Hillman acting how I thought she was? "Mm, I dunno, I mean... I just thought..." She stood up, and sat down on the couch, right beside me. My heart was doing jumping jacks, and I could feel my hands begin to shake. "I just, I misspoke, that's all."

Ms. Hillman put her arm on the back of the couch, leaning towards me slightly. She smiled her tender smile. "You've grown so much since I first met you, Erica. You're like a whole new woman now..."

Some of the color returned to my face as I blushed a deep red. Something made me play along in spite of my hesitance. Possibly the part of me that was desperately trying to undress Ms. Hillman with my eyes, imagine her on top of me, or me on top of her. That part of me stepped up to the plate with the reply: "In more ways than you know, Ms. Hillman..."

Her right hand began to move slowly up my inner thigh, and we continued to look each other in the eye. I smiled at her as her hand neared the fly of my jeans. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Just call me Laura, sweetie." I finally reciprocated her advances, throwing my arms around her shoulders and moaning in a gentle whisper as I felt her plush lips press into my own. Her arms left my shoulders, and she began to undo her blue blouse. I knew I wanted this, and I wanted it bad, but my stomach was knotted as I thought about that day years ago. I felt confused... Laura obviously had sexual inclinations I didn't understand. But more accurately, I felt guilty. I had felt guilty for four years. If there was ever a time to get it out, it was now.

I stopped the encounter, and spilled everything, more calmly than I thought I would be able to. I could barely bring myself to look into her eyes as I told her what I saw. When I finished, I felt as though I wanted to cry. I feared most of all that I had broken the trust we invested in each other. But to my surprise, she smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and held me again.

"It must have been confusing for you to see... I'm not sure I could explain it, really..." She rubbed her hand up and down my back as she thought. At last she said, "You have a bike tire pump in your garage, right?" I nodded. "Go get it. Maybe I can explain it to you while I... well, I just ask that you trust me, is all." I went through the kitchen and into the garage. The tire pump was right beneath my old bike, hanging on the wall. I retrieved it and brought it back.

Laura undid her belt, setting the pump between us on the couch. She took one end of the hose, and inserted it in the back of her pants, appearing to thread it between the cheeks of her ass. I gulped. She smiled as if to silently reiterate "trust me", and knelt on the couch with the hose shoved up her backside. "Now, pump. Don't be afraid to go fast. I'll tell you if I'm feeling too full..."

And so, as difficult as it was to wrap my head around, as perverted and bizarre as it seemed, I began to inflate my neighbor like a balloon. As her stomach puffed out, she started telling me about her fetish, about how she had accidentally gotten stuck on the bubble nozzle of a jacuzzi when she was about my age, and swelled up until a friend of hers was able to stop it. They had to call an ambulance and un-wedge her impossibly bloated body from the hot tub. They couldn't fit her in the vehicle, so the EMTs just squeezed the air out of her in her friend's backyard. "It was exhilarating," she recalled, "but at the time I was afraid I would pop. But all those hands touching and feeling my sensitive skin, all that pressure..." She rubbed her massive belly lovingly, her bulging, heaving breasts barely held in by her bra.

I acted on impulse, and fell forward, locking lips with her as I undid her bra, tossing it to the floor. She slid her tongue deep into my mouth. My eyes rolled back in my head as I rubbed my crotch against her plumping thigh. Dutifully, even as she kept kissing, I continued to pump. "That's the best part... your skin just...stretches," she gasped, "and everything... EVERYTHING... gets more and more sensitive... Your clothes reach a breaking point..." As if on cue, the seams of her slim-fit jeans began to bust wide open, exposing her smooth ebony skin. I pumped even faster, panting as I did. It was masturbatory in a way, knowing that my efforts were turning Laura into a huge balloon beauty. I couldn't place why I thought the whole thing was so attractive. Her shape, her helplessness, the way she wiggled her fat limbs... It all took me back to the first night I fantasized about her, my stolen looks at her bloated body...

It hardly seemed as though any time had passed before Laura was bigger than I'd ever imagined - her hands, feet, and head were sunk slightly into her perfectly spherical body, kept decent only by a strained and ripping pair of panties, a tattered pair of pants, and her shredding blouse. Her bare tits heaved with each breath, her erect nipples bare and needy. I ran my tongue along an areola, then gently nursed at the overinflated beach ball of her right breast. I rubbed her skin all over -- it was hard not to. She was smooth, her skin yielded only the slightest bit, as though if I pressed too hard, she would explode. Laura smiled at me over the vast horizon of her body. "You know, Erica... I'm completely helpless now... And if you're still quite willing to experiment, you've got my whole body to do whatever you please with..."

That was all I needed. Rolling her backwards, I found the damp spot on the bottom of her panties. Trying to tug the fabric to the side caused it to rip, leaving Laura completely nude. Her puffy sex lips parted easily, and I slid my tongue between her moist folds without hesitation. She fought to quiet her moaning as I tasted her clitoris, penetrated her with my tongue. I was in heaven, living out my fantasy of getting with the biggest MILF I had ever met. "Biggest" not only in terms of quality, but in sheer size -- the absurdity of tongue-fucking a human blimp scarcely even mattered to me now. All that mattered was ensuring Laura enjoyed herself.

I reached down and squeezed her inflated asscheeks, still clenching the hose of the pump. I gently yanked it out. A bit of air escaped, but not enough to reduce her size. She was in ecstasy. Every lick and tender sucking I performed on her needy pussy brought her closer to climax. At last, Laura came, her toes curling as I thrust my tongue deep into her. I lapped up most of her juices, careful to try and not let any get on the floor. I smiled with deep, lustful satisfaction -- I'd just eaten her out, and it felt just as good for me as it probably did for her.

"What... are they... TEACHING you at... that college...??" she said between gasps.

The next few days passed surprisingly normally. Laura still came over, and while we fooled around, nothing extreme happened. It was quite obvious we had something going between us, and I didn't want it to end. I began telling my French "tutor" over the internet that I had been getting it on with my best friend, a MILF with an incredible tongue. I spent most of my time thinking about Laura.

Then, one day when the weather had cleared up, she came over in a tank top and shorts, inviting me over to have a swim. Of course I agreed, if only for the chance to see her in a bathing suit -- or, in my own fantasy, a skimpy little thong bikini.

I didn't quite expect fantasy to pan out into reality.

Laura indeed wore a golden g-string two-piece, just barely covering up her round, plump ass, and gently holding her perky tits like a pair of hammocks. I only wished I could wear my own bikini half as well as that.

We swam a while, spending most of our time talking, and in between conversations we would make out and fool around a bit. I just about started playing with myself in the deep end when Laura tugged the bottom part of my suit down, exposing my shaven cleft, and suggesting she show me later how she can fill herself up with helium and float like a hot air balloon.

Eventually, she got out of the pool and towelled off, deciding instead to relax on a deck chair. I swam for a bit more as we conversed. Laura had closed her eyes, letting the sun cook her a little bit, and she fell into deep relaxation. I had a feeling it was an invitation to her body, but I figured a bit of a surprise was in order. I climbed up the edge, towelling off and walking over to Laura's garden hose. I opened the valve all the way, and hurried over to where Laura was relaxing.

As she was yawning, I struck, and the hose went down her throat. She suddenly opened her eyes wide as I lodged the hose in her mouth, standing back and watching her start to fatten up with water.

She stood up with great difficulty, her body thickening up all over, becoming much heavier. I could hear the gallons and gallons of water slosh and churn inside her. She looked at me pleadingly as if to say "Erica! No! Not out in the open like this!" But I couldn't bring myself to care. I was far too aroused watching Laura inflate into a human water balloon. I slid a hand down the front of my crotch, gently rubbing.

Laura turned and began to waddle over to the nozzle, an act I found surprisingly titillating. Watching Laura struggle against her body was nothing short of exciting. The weight of her waterlogged stomach became too much, however, and she fell forward onto her swollen tummy. Wiggling helplessly, Laura continued to grow. Her breasts, massive and sagging from the weight, touched the ground, her nipples tenting the gold bikini top -- an indicator, to me at least that she was secretly loving every second of this.

Her bottom half -- her ass, her puffy nethers -- looked so delicious. I wanted desperately to take her then and there, but it would wait for another time. My original plan was to have her fill up to the brim, then have her pleasure me, but seeing her half-naked body, her impossibly massive knockers, her huge fat ass, I got desperate. I shut off the water, tugged the hose from her mouth, and removed my bikini bottom. Sitting on Laura's twin water balloons that were her tits, I spread my legs, inching my pussy closer to her mouth.

She wasn't exactly happy with what I did, that much I could tell -- but it was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. I gasped, trying to stay as quiet as possible. It was the middle of the day after all, and I was getting eaten out by my fat blimp of a neighbor.

I was obviously not the first woman Laura had. She handled my clit like a master, moaning throatily into me with every lick. I quickly reached my climax, soaking her chest with my juices and panting heavily.

She looked up at me with her puffy cheeks and smiled earnestly. I smiled back, relaxing on her massive body.

I knew then it was going to be a wonderful summer. But the problem remained of how to deflate Laura...