Giggling Balloon, The

(Or, "Let Me Kiss Your Skin of Silver")

I know it's a cliché, but I met her on the internet. Would it have been better if I'd met her in a bar? Problem is, I could hit a thousand bars and not meet a woman who was into balloons as badly as I was—or at all, for that matter.

Her profile pic showed her posed with balloons, a huge yellow one close to her adorable face, with snatches of other balloons poking out from behind her. Long blond hair draped her shoulders, surrounding her puffy, well-rounded cheeks and dropping down in front of her revealing cleavage. Even for a non-inflation fetishist, she would have been a find; as it was, I was praying that she wouldn't turn out to be a serial killer or, worse, a neurotic bitch.

Fortunately, she was neither, but I probably wouldn't have cared. She showed up at her door, literally bouncing with excitement, and it took a while for all of her to stop moving. She wore a tight, silver spandex suit with a plunging V-neck, and it took massive willpower to turn away from her perfectly shaped breasts to look up at her beaming face.

"Barnaby, right?" she said, letting out an adorable giggle.

"Hey, Blaire," I said, but before I could sputter out how gorgeous she looked, she grabbed my tie and pulled me inside.

I followed her cute, compact ass to the sofa, where we sat, with Blaire throwing her feet up into my lap. She rested her pretty blonde head on her palm as she giggled playfully at me again. We made perfunctory conversation, literally none of it I remember. As we talked, I grew firm against the leg in my lap. Most guys would be picturing her naked, or thinking of sex.

I, of course, was picturing this beautiful, charming creature as a balloon. A big, round, silver balloon.

Perhaps feeling that conversation had run its course—I couldn't have been doing my fair share, I'm sure—Blaire took her feet from my lap, leaned close, and we kissed.

I ran my hands over her spandex suit as we continued to neck. Everything about her was so feminine and smooth. My hands simply glided across her thighs, her butt, her back, her breasts. I never felt a woman's skin feel so much like… well, like the skin of a tight, firmly inflated balloon.

Her wet, glossy pink lips pressed against mine repeatedly, her breath smelling faintly of latex. It made me think of balloons: full, round, glorious balloons.

I pictured Blaire as a balloon, floating to the ceiling.

Suddenly my reverie was interrupted as she pulled back. "I know what you want."

I thought of her bouncing around like a beach ball. "I doubt it."

She giggled. "Oh, you men are all alike," she said teasingly. "You want me for my balloons." Instinctively, I looked down at her ample cleavage, but she just giggled again and slid ever so gracefully off the couch as if she were made of Teflon.

She walked over to a closet, opened it and leaned inside. I gazed hypnotically at her ass as she began batting balloons out of the closet floor and into the lounge. Out they came: purple, green, red, yellow, white, black, blue, orange. All delightfully tight and full and ready to be popped.

She turned to see my expression—I had to be nearly drooling at this point—and she giggled again, before sitting on a nearby yellow balloon and popping it with her shapely, silvery rear end.

Naturally I had to join in, and soon we were blowing up and popping balloons like competitive children. Needless to say, the balloon population dropped dramatically and rapidly.

Then Blaire decided to drop her metaphorical bomb on me.

"Looks like we have only two more balloons," she said, holding up a deflated balloon in her hand.

"Two?" I asked, surveying the latex wasteland around us and finding no other survivors.

"Watch," she said, and giggled before puffing into the balloon.

As she did so, it took me a moment to process that her chest was simultaneously getting bigger along with the balloon. I chose not to examine the physics of the situation, instead focusing my attention on her expanding breasts, growing under her inflating balloon, stretching out her silver spandex outfit, as if beach balls were inflating underneath.

She noted my expression with a giggle. I was understandably speechless.

She puffed into the balloon again, but I confess I my attention was diverted elsewhere. Her ass was now growing, along with her thighs. Between her enlarged breasts and hips, she had taken on a perfect hourglass shape.

She took the balloon away from her full lips. She ran her free hand over her chest and down her thighs. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard gentle squeaks from her—not her balloon—as she gently moaned, closing her eyes in pleasure.

Then she opened her eyes and looked herself over. "Oh dear," she said, in mock surprise. "I hope I don't look too cartoonish."

"You're—you're beautiful," I stammered out.

She bobbed the balloon in her hand. "Bigger?" she cooed.

I could only nod, but she was already bringing the balloon to her lips, blowing it even larger. Both her chest and thighs blew out as she puffed, accentuating her hourglass appearance. I definitely heard the squeaking this time, growing louder and longer as she expanded, until I couldn't stand it any longer.

I approached her and put my hand on her swelling thigh. She took her balloon away and giggled. I ran my hands over her swollen breasts before she pressed them into me, leaning forward to kiss me.

I kissed back hard. Were her lips a little fuller, too? Her cheeks a little more rounded? It seemed to be the case. Although her kisses were more passionate, her lips felt softer to the touch. As she pressed into me, I again heard gentle squeaking. It struck me that I was making out with a living, breathing (and self-inflating) inflatable doll.

We made out for several dream-like moments, until she accidentally released the balloon in her hand. The air shot out, sending the balloon around the room like an out-of-control missile. I ducked as it sailed over my head before dropping to the floor. Blair giggled loudly.

"Uh-oh!" she said. "Now what?"

"Can you still get bigger?" I asked.

She smiled and tilted her head. "I can be as big as you want."

"I want."

She giggled again. And then she closed her eyes, puffed out her cheeks… and inflated even larger.

This time it was her belly, blowing outward to catch up with her breasts, which were now being pushed upward, squeaking as her balloony flesh rubbed against itself. She bit her lower lip and moaned. She was clearly enjoying it at least as much as I was.

She still had her hourglass figure, but now looked several months pregnant. She giggled at her achievement. I would've kissed her again, but I could no longer easily reach her lips. Between her giant breasts and belly, I couldn't even reach around her to hold her.

Instead, I pressed my face against her pillow-sized breasts, kissed them, rubbing her belly, causing her to squeak some more.

She moaned. "Feels so good," she mumbled.

"Then get bigger," I gently urged her.

I did not have to tell her twice: Her cheeks puffed up, and her body swelled again.

Her arms and legs plumped up, her sides became more curved, her silvery form becoming more ball-shaped.

Soon, in fact, she looked more balloon than human, her puffy arms, legs the only recognizable parts of her body. That, and her head, which was becoming harder to see, blocked by her rising, expanding breasts.

I drank in the sight of this lovely silver balloon in front of me, enjoying every squeak of her body. I'm sure it was the shredded balloon remnants around us, but I became increasing aware of the smell of latex.

I heard her sigh in satisfaction. Reluctantly, I stepped back, but only so I could see her face, which almost glowed with ecstasy.

"Bigger," I said.

I heard her giggle. Then her body blew out farther, causing me to step back even more.

And then I had to back up farther—because her growth didn't stop after a few moments, but continued for well over a minute. In that time, her arms, legs, and giant breasts began to spread out, merging into the huge ball growing under her head. I heard a table tip over and a lamp crash to the floor. The squeaks from her body grew ever louder.

At last, she stopped for breath, and I had to catch my own.

This giant silver ball now wiggled slightly in front of me. I stood aghast at her sheer size, her head nearly touching the ceiling, her round body now taking up much of the space in the room.

I couldn't help stating the obvious. "Blair, you're huuuuuge!"

She giggled. "And I'm going to get even bigger!"

"Really? Cuz you're getting really tight—"

But she was already expanding some more. I allowed her inflating form to push me back, giving her a squeeze even as I was pushed closer and closer to the far wall. Her silver form draped over the furniture, knocked paintings off the walls, and caused her bookshelf collapse behind her.

She only moaned as her body groaned.

And she still got bigger, determined to fill every gap in the room. Her body finally pushed me over, spilling all over me. I allowed myself to be smothered by her ballooning form. I rubbed my body against her midsection. I kissed a little patch of her taut, tight skin. Now I felt like I was making out with a parade balloon—and I loved it.

"And I'm going to be even BIGGER!" she said again.

Now I began to worry as her skin pressed me against the floor. Would I be able to take much more?

Come to think of it, would she?

The squeaking became continuous now, as I lay spread-eagled under her, my world just a vast sea of silver. And she still grew, her skin giving less and less resistance, becoming firmer, tighter, like a balloon that has reached the extent of its elasticity.

I heard her cry out over the squeaks: "Bigger! Bigger! BIGGER!"

I contemplated the very real possibility that I was going to be squashed like a bug underneath this giant balloon that kept getting tighter, pushing me harder…

"I'M GOING TO BE THE BIGGEST BALLOON IN THE WORLD!"

I braced myself for another surge—

And then she burst.

After the BANG, everything went dark. I had to peel off a shredded piece of spandex that was covering my face before I could survey the damage.

I sat up and blinked a few times.

"Soooooo," I mused aloud. "I guess I'm going to be late for work in the morning…"