That Thing You Do

“Sooooo,” Terrance said suggestively, looking across the table at his wife. “What would you like to do tonight?”

Sophie, taking his meaning, had a sparkle in her eye as she formulated a response. “Well, I am a little tired tonight,” she said with a coy smile. “But you know I always sleep better afterward.”

He huffed, smiling back. “But that doesn’t exactly answer my question,” he said, hinting for her to elaborate. “How do you want to do it?”

She reached a hand across the table and stroked it lightly across the back of his. “I want you to do that thing you do,” she said huskily, a note of overt passion to her voice. “And I promise to return the favorite tomorrow night.”

So, he knew from her suggestive response that she wanted to do it her favorite way. And that took little preparation. He was ready for her when she turned down the bedroom light and crawled into bed with him later. “Are you ready?” she asked with rapped anticipation.

Terrance smiled and reach for the one item of pleasure he had kept hidden under his pillow. A length of string lay coiled in his hand. He slowly, seductively pulled down the sheet to expose her to him, noticing that she was only clad in a shimmering black satin bra and matching panties, his favorite, the ones that made her D-cup breasts look like they were balloons. Well, balloons they will be, he thought as he bent to tie one end of the string around one ankle and the other to the foot of the bed frame.

Sliding back into bed with her, Terrance cupped her face tenderly. Sophie practically launched herself at him, covering his face and neck with wet, passionate kisses. His manhood began to rise, touching lightly to her inner thigh. She reached out and nudged it gently. “Not now, Fred,” she giggled, calling his appendage by the name she had given it. “You will get yours tomorrow.”

“You are a tease,” he mumbled between kisses.

After several minutes of foreplay, she broke off and lay flat on her back. “Ooooo,” she cooed, rubbing her legs together. “I’m ready.”

Terrance leaned over to her and whispered, “Show them to me.”

Smiling in the dim lights, Sophie reached forward and undid the clasp of the front-hook bra. Sliding the straps off, she exposed her proud, perky breasts to her husband. She had never had plastic surgery to achieve their size, but two kids had done the trick. She wiggled a finger with a ‘come hither’ action. “Now, do that thing you do,” she said, adding a suggestive growl to her demand.

Acquiescing, Terrance leaned his face closer to her chest. He took her left breast in a hand, cupping it gently before moving his lips to the nipple. He began by softly kissing and nuzzling it, before taking the nipple into his mouth and sucking it more forcefully. He felt it grow erect in his mouth, expanding and elongating. Soon it was engorged, big enough to him to begin her favorite part of the evening.

Taking her breast firmly in both hands, and holding onto the swollen nipple like he would the mouth of a balloon in his mouth, he sharply inhaled, held it for a second, and blew into it. Between his hands, her breast expanded like a deflated soccer ball on the nozzle of an air compressor, rounding and rising with the force of his breath. When he had no more to blow, he repeated the action, feeling the breast inflate like a balloon between his fingers, gauging its size and volume as he blew. When he had exhaled four breaths into her, he moved to the right breast. Four breaths later, she had a matching set of beach ball-sized balloon tits. They didn’t slouch to her sides, but stood proud and firm, her pointed nipples aimed at the high ceiling.

“More?” he asked, teasing, know full well what her answer would be.

Sophie was almost organismic by this time. When he inflated her like this, it turned her on so much and brought her so close that his slightest touch would put her over the edge. She reached forward and found that she could no longer reach her nipples, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy her. “No, I want the ‘Full Monty’,” she said almost breathlessly, dancing on the edge of coming. “You didn’t get the sting out, only to leave me like this.”

“I suppose not,” he half-heartedly agreed. “So, then, stand up.”

She obeyed, standing on the edge of the mattress. She was quite a bit shorter than him, so her standing like that put her breasts at about eye level to him, in perfect position for their continued play as she wanted. Terrance noticed that she was already up on the tips of her toes. He reached forward and stroked her pussy through her panties with one hand, and played with a hardened nipple with his other, eliciting a series of short gasps from her, almost bringing her over the edge. She pushed his hand away, not wanting to come quite yet. “Finish it,” she commanded, her breathing clipped ecstatically. “Send me up,”

“Your wish is my command.” Terrance wrapped his hands around one of her three-foot-round breasts, and pulled the nipple down, with some effort, and took it into his mouth again. Inhaling sharply, he blew another forceful breath into her, followed by three more. When he let go, the bigger breast shot upward, now obscuring half of her face. Keeping one stabilizing hand on her hip, he reached for the other one, blowing it up to a similar size. The upward tug her breasts were generating was almost too much for him to hold onto, until he released the second nipple. He clamped onto her other hip, keeping her grounded somewhat until she was prepared for the next part. He pulled her down to his level, though her feet were still not touching the floor, and kissed her, whispering, “Are you ready to fly?”

Sophie held her eyes tightly shut, fighting to keep away from the precipice of the sensation that was knocking at the door. This was the part that usually put her over the edge. When he would release his grip, she would become truly buoyant, and the feeling of freedom, of floating, and the string snapping her foot and preventing her from floating away, would always bring her to full orgasm, and they were always powerful ones. “Let me go,” she nodded.

Terrance took his hands off her hips, but left his palms glide over her legs as she rose to the end of her tether. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOO…”she cried, wide-mouthed, as she ascended. With a snap, her buoyant body’s rise was arrested as she reached the length of the string, and that was all it took. She bucked and thrashed in the throes of ecstasy, dancing in the air for half a minute like a stripper with no pole.

Terrance stood back, watching his handiwork. But even as her breathing eased, signaling that she was no longer coming, he knew that as long as she remained inflated and floating, she was always treading on the edge of another good orgasm. He was wanted to try something different tonight, so he waited for her to calm down before making another move. “That,” she gasped, “was great! The best!”

“Are you sure I can’t improve things?”

Sweat glistened on her forehead as she caught her breath. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, swaying in the air under her massively inflated tits.

“Let’s see what I can do,” he said coyly. He had purposefully left the string short, shorter than usual, not allowing her to float as high as before. He had judged it precisely, which meant the string kept her close and that her crotch was now floating level with his face. With one hand, he reached around her ass and pulled her toward him. With the other, he found the triangle of silky black fabric of her panties that covered her sweet spot and pulled it to one side. “What are you doing?” she asked, truly surprised.

“You just float there and relax,” he said assuringly, and buried his face into her. His probing tongue found her clit, and began licking and sucking. It too became engorged, soon big enough for him to take between his lips. A sharp inhale was followed by a forceful half breath, and he felt her clit and love-lips inflate into his face. Sophie screamed as another orgasm rocked her in the air. She locked her legs around his neck, forcing his face into her inflated crotch, which he allowed his tongue to dance over. When she was released, she unclenched and let go of him too.

“That…was…” Sophie stammered between gasps.

“I know,” he replied calmly. She floated there, buoyant in her rush of oxytocin and estrogen, as he watched. She now looked like she was hiding a balloon in her underwear, which, in truth, she was at the time. Terrance reached out and stroked her inflated labia, shockingly throwing her into another extended orgasm. She had to scream for him to stop, just so she could catch her breath.

When she finally did, she looked exhausted, like she had just ran a marathon. Terrance knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was asleep. Sophie loved to sleep while floating like this, and by early morning she would be mostly deflated and would crawl back into bed with him. “Tomorrow night will be just as good for you,” she promised through the haze of fatigue, closing her eyes.

“Then tomorrow night it is,” he said, softly climbing back into bed. “Because, in the spirit of quid pro quo, you will be returning the favor. I will be expecting you to do that thing you do.”

He would be sleeping on the ceiling tomorrow night.