Back-Up Plan, The

The Back-Up Plan

Danielle had thought that it was finally under control.

It had been weeks since the last time she and her husband Robert had experienced the effects of the Mammatol. It was the drug Danielle had bought months ago, one that was advertised to ‘boost’ and ‘lift’ their sex lives, ‘expand’ their sexual experience. She had taken a single dose of the drug one day when planning a particularly eventful evening with Robert, and what happened was beyond either of their expectations.

Since that fateful night, every time Robert touched her erotically, or sometimes even talked to her in a suggestive manner, and she became aroused, Danielle’s boobs would begin to swell. And not just the moderate breast swelling that most women experience during foreplay and sex. Instead, as long as she was in an aroused state, Danielle’s chest would grow beyond any known bra size and continue to inflate like a pair of weather balloons until her arousal stopped. Sometimes the growth would halt due to some sort of shock, like pain or some other abrupt distraction that would halt her arousal. If that happened, though, she would remain blown up like that until she was ‘resolved’. She found that she could not deflate or return to her previous size until she had an orgasm, which Robert was only happy to help her achieve, as the culmination of her building arousal.

One thing that was also discovered, though, was that her growth came with another complication. What grew and expanded inside her breasts was some sort of gas that was lighter-than-air. So, accompanying her enormous growth during their love-making sessions, there was the prospect, if she didn’t cum very quickly, that her tits would continue to blow up so big that they would actually lift her in the air like a pair of helium balloons during sex. They always had to make sure that they were indoors if instigating sex, just from that fact. Danielle had gotten away from Robert a few times, and had ended up being tits-up on the ceiling hanging from a pair of flesh-colored blimps.

Since she took the drug, the pair had learned to laugh about the situation. Danielle and Robert had even been experimenting with ways to control the inflation, trying to make it temporarily stop so that she remained blown up but not big enough to float away. During one round of foreplay, she had allowed herself to inflate until she was about an HH cup size, and then threw a cup of ice water into her own face. The shock had stopped her growth at that size, and she kept herself inflated that big for two days while she and Robert were hitting the beaches of Grand Cayman during a vacation. It took all the restrain he had not to touch her or even talk dirty to his partially inflated wife for those two long days while watching her stretch out the tops of several bikinis with a mischievous smile. The night of the second day he couldn’t control himself any longer, nor could she, and her breasts had nearly pinned them into the hotel room before she was ‘resolved’ and deflated.

Over the past few weeks, though, both had noticed that the lingering effects of the Mammatol were diminishing. Her inflating was becoming less and less during their love-making, until two weeks ago, when they had had an extended and vigorous romp and she had not blown up at all. Though with the months of inflating had left Danielle with a permanent set of boobs in the E cup range, she had begun to like being the ‘inflatable woman’ for her husband. Robert missed it too, but also knew how difficult it was sometimes for her when it would become a race to get her to orgasm before she floated away.

To Danielle, the experience was fascinating a fun, but was also sometimes a nightmare, literally. Months ago, she had had an erotic dream, and had awoken with her pajamas in shreds and her nipples sliding across the textured ceiling of their bedroom. Because of these incidences of uncontrolled inflation, they had come up with a back-up plan for times when Robert wasn’t nearby to help ‘relieve’ her, but they had never implemented the plan. Otherwise, she and Robert had devised a series of restraining techniques with weights and straps to keep her grounded during sex, but mostly they would just get in the way and be a distraction. So when she found she was inflating less frequently and eventually having no growth at all, inwardly she was somewhat relieved.

The kids were off with the grandparents for the weekend, and Robert would be arriving from a technical conference that afternoon. Danielle had made plans for some dinner and some sexual fun after he got home, and decided to go do some shopping in preparation for the evening. She already had the food needed at home, so what she was shopping for was for the romp later, a true ‘welcome home’ for her husband. A trip to the local lingerie shop was what she needed. She had picked out a particularly special set of black silk panties, and she made the sales clerk flustered when she asked for a matching bra. It was difficult to find one in her exaggerated cup size, but after a half hour of searching, the clerk had found the right one. Danielle was so excited that she decided to keep them both on under her clothes when she left the shop and headed back home.

That, she found out later, had been the right choice to make.

Robert had been gone for a week, too far away to drive home every night, so he had holed up in a motel. He called home just as the kids were being tucked into bed and would talk to them. His conversation with Danielle would start out with asking how her day was, to how much he missed her, to eventually talking dirty. He would often tell her about what he would like to be doing to her with his mouth, tongue, and other body parts, and she would lay there on the bed listening, giggling, and touching herself. She would twist her nipples through her sleep shirt and imagine it was his fingers on her, and she would feel herself becoming wet. There was no longer any inflation when she was aroused even then, so she was assured that the effects of the Mammatol were over.

She reflected on all this sexual tension they had been causing each other to have all week as she drove home from the lingerie shop. She even passed a billboard advertising Victoria’s Secret’s newest push-up bra, to which she said “I have it better” to the skinny waif in the colorful underwear on the signage. Danielle even caught herself unknowingly cupping her overblown boobs while at a stoplight, feeling the soft satin of the new bra under her button-up blouse. She was getting that familiar warm, wet feeling in her nether regions the more she thought about her husband and what she wanted to do with him that night.

Danielle smiled as she drove into the bright sunshine, imagining Robert’s reaction to meeting her at the door. She was going to be wearing her new underwear, a silk robe, and nothing else. She imagined his pants tenting with desire, and she licked her lips with the hunger her thoughts was stirring. She was so deep in mental foreplay that she wasn’t paying attention to what was happening around her. She had been stopped at a red light, which had turned green, and the person in the lane behind her honked to get her attention and get her to drive on.

“Alright, I got the message!” she waved into her rear-view mirror at the irate man behind her, and pushed the gas pedal. “I’m going! Don’t be such a…HOLY SHIT!”

Her breasts were pressing against the steering wheel. And they were getting bigger.

“No!” she exclaimed to no one. “Not now! Not now!” Her arms were being forced further apart by the inflating boobs between them, while her hands gripped the wheel. With nowhere else to grow, breast flesh was pushing up and out of her shirt, already straining the top buttons, and into her line of sight. Danielle mashed the pedal to the floor, screeching her tires as she rocketed forward, heading for her house two blocks away.

Luckily, there was no one in front of her at the time. Danielle’s hands were shaking as she tried to hold on to the wheel, but turning the steering wheel with her growing mammary obstructions was becoming difficult. “Oh great, that’s my new bra!” she complained as she started to feel the straps begin to dig into her shoulders and across her back, straining. It was built for holding big, heavy breasts, and she hoped that it would hold out until she got home and could remove it.

But her luck ran out when the last traffic light before she turned onto her street turned yellow, and the old man in the car ahead of her began to slow down. Danielle could barely see the car through the cleavage canyon that was rising like bread dough in front of her, and she honked madly to get him to run the red light. When the senior came to a stop, she wailed in frustration, unable to do anything else.  Tonk, tonk, tonk…the top three buttons exploded off her shirt, striking the ceiling of the car and flying away, one dropping back into her ever-expanding cleavage.

Another car pulled up to the stop light, and a small child looked out an open window and pointed at the inflating woman next to them. “Look mom, balloons!” the girl said. “I want some just like that!” The mother turned and saw Danielle’s inflating bosoms and said, “Yeah, me too.”

Fortunately, the light turned green before Danielle could no longer see past her growing girls. She stomped on the gas, almost clipping the back end of the car in front of her, and sped to the entrance to her street. Panicked, she almost missed the driveway to her house. With a rip, her new bra broke down the middle and sprang to the sides, and her nipples were now pushing heavily against the windshield, obscuring everything. As she screeched to a halt, she fumbled blindly for the seat belt release, as the restraining harness was digging deeply into her cleavage. With a click it released, but then she found she had to practically lay her seat all the way flat so that she could leverage her tits out of the car. As she climbed out, she could already feel the upward tug of her tits, the lighter-than-air gas threatening to pull her off the ground. She knew she had to hurry, but even as more button popped off the restraining blouse, more breast flesh rose in front of her face, adding difficulty to her escape. She stumbled twice before getting to the front door, dropping her keys, and having to search for her keys while her floating boobs tried to smother her just added to her distress. Finally she found them, unlocked the door and squeezed her expanding mammaries through the doorway one at a time just as the last holdout button lost its struggle and went sailing across the foyer.

Danielle breathed a sigh of relief. She had made it home, with as little embarrassment as could be helped. She turned her head sideways and shuffled tenuously toward her living room, feeling her feet start to loose grip on the linoleum of the entryway. She was still inflating, with no one else home to help her deflate, and she was trying to get to the next room that had a lower ceiling. But too quickly she noticed that she was on the tips of her toes, unable to move, and seconds later even her toes lost touch with the floor as she slowly was pulled skyward by her breast balloons.

The high, vaulted ceiling above her was two stories up, decorated with a single electric candelabra. The light fixture was all Danielle could see over her towering tits as she floated upward. I need to get the ladder and dust that light, she thought absently. She could still hear a slight hiss emanating from her boobs as she rose, gaining altitude and diameter. But at least it was now happening inside, and in familiar territory. Now was the time to deploy the secret weapon. Her back-up plan.

She had retained a tight grip on her purse since leaving the car. With her tits floating in front of her face, she had to blindly fumble through the contents of the purse, searching for the one item that might save the day. Finally she found it, a small cylinder that fit in the palm of her hand. It had three buttons on it: one to turn power on, and two to increase or decrease intensity.

It was the remote control for the vibrating panties she was wearing.

Danielle had drifted about halfway to the ceiling by the time she turned the power on. She heard and felt the buzz as the egg-shaped vibrator began oscillating. It rested in a discreet pocket sewn into the front of the panties. Danielle smiled, thinking about the restaurant scene from the movie The Ugly Truth, when Katherine Heigl drops the remote to the vibrating panties she is wearing, and a kid at the next table finds it and turns them one, causing her to have an orgasm at her crowded table. The vibrator rested against her clit, and as Danielle dialed up the intensity, she could feel her arousal heighten, and watched as her inflation multiplied right in front of her eyes.

Her ascension speed began to increase as the helium in her breasts filled her up even more. Impatient, Danielle pushed the up button on the remote to its highest intensity level, and as the vibrator buzzed more loudly, she sailed higher, faster. She moaned, rubbing her legs together as her arousal built, her breathing increasing pace. She was getting close already, close to the ceiling and close to coming.

At the same time her nipples gently touched the highest point of the foyer, she came with a glorious explosion. Bucking and flailing in the air rhythmically, she dropped her purse but managed to hold onto the remote. Though she was in the throes of ecstasy, Danielle still had the presence of mind to find the power button and turn the vibrator off. After what seemed like an eternity, her aerial spasming subsided, and her breathing slowed. She hung there, suspended in the air, sweating but satisfied, the tatters of her blouse and bra still hanging from her wrists as she slowly began to deflate and descend. A few minutes later, as she calmed after the storm, her feet regained contact lightly with the floor.

Danielle watched her breasts slowly shrink. Afternoon light spilled through the windows above her front door across her exposed chest. “I hope the neighbors couldn’t see me,” she mumbled to herself. She checked the time, and noticed that there were still a few hours until Robert got home from his trip. She set the remote down on the entryway table as her breasts returned to their previous size.

“Well, the back-up plan worked well,” she commented, and then had a mischievous idea. Danielle smiled as she inspected the tear between the cups of her new bra. “I have time to repair this, so that I can still wear it when he gets home,” she said, growing excited again. “And perhaps time for one other thing.”

Reaching over, she snatched up the remote control again and began to walk toward her bedroom. Yes, she was going to try out the back-up plan one more time before Robert arrived. Just the thought of it made her tingle, and a faint hiss began again.

“Miss Blimp Tits is back!”