Ego Stroking

After endless months of sexual tension between is, one thing is clear: we're both way too into the flirting to consummate things. So we talk instead. First, I hear you confess your fantasy to me. To your surprise, I then confess virtually the same wish in turn, for I too would like to be blown apart orgasmically. After all, what better end could there be?

No, it's definitely better this way. The only questions that remain for us involve the means and the timing. So we discuss.

The pact is sealed when we conclude that pure lust is the most enjoyable method for swelling each other, caused by nothing but some good old fashioned ego stroking. Also, and perhaps inevitably, we decide that it should be a contest. The winner will know their taunting and titillation were so hot that they caused their partner's detonation... just before their own erotic end.

So we prepare, and then meet. You're stunning in a fashionable red satiny shirt with tiny sleeves that cup just above your toned upper arms. Below, you wear a pair of jet black capri-cut jeggings, the better to show your shapely calves in wraparound stiletto sandals. Sure, the fabric could be called stretchy, but the way you're poured into the outfit leaves little extra volume.

I'm a little more circumspect, showing up in my best suit and tie. The cut is exquisite and the colors are sharp and clean. "Nice, but isn't that a little formal?" You ask.

I just smirk and shrug. "This seems like the time to wear my best, after all. I won't get another. I do like what you wore; it shows off that lovely bottom of yours."

You blush and feel a sudden swell of pride, and a certain flushing warmth deep within yourself. And that's how you know it's begun, as you feel yourself stretch a bit in all directions at once.

"Nice opener," You say as you flash a wicked smile. "Maybe you should come over here and grab a handful while you can."

The tease hits home; you know I've been eyeing your ass for months. You're rewarded with an audible wooshing sound from me, followed by a gentle creaking as I grow just a bit bigger.

I pause for a moment. "I'd like to, but at the size you're at now I'd need more than both my hands, and then what have I got left but my mouth?"

That remark brings a sudden vivid fantasy into your imagination. You can feel the tension ratchet up this time as your inflation presses you up against the confines of your clothing. The pressure hits in all the right places and for a moment you can't see straight.

Eventually, your head clears, and you look at yourself. Your thighs, and breasts have grown turgid and increased in circumference... and sensitivity. You hold out an arm and see that it's grown equally shapely.

You smile at your sudden ripening, and an answer forms. "Well, it'd be about time you actually did something useful with your mouth. Keep talking like that and I might just hike these pants down and bend over." Then you blow me a kiss.

You see my lips form a visible "oh" and hear a low, almost inaudible moan. I tug at my tie and flush as my volume increases, my chest girth increasing, and the fabric of my blouse parting behind its buttons.

As soon as my creaking stops I begin to pull at the tie and pop the buttons one by one. You start to protest. "No fair! The clothing is supposed to get *tight*..."

I just hold up a hand as my suit coat and pants slide to the floor, and my last buttons pop of their own accord, one pinging off of the wall. It's then you see the shiny black vinyl that covers my body neck to navel to ankles. A zentai suit.

Despite my increasing rotundness, the suit hugs me revealingly in strategic portions of my anatomy. You're forced to admit that this isn't a bad stunt, and that you're mouth has suddenly gone dry. And then you find yourself licking your lip as a heat begins to build in you again amd you feel yourself start to increase. "Keep it together." You mutter to yourself.

Gathering your wits, you glance up and down at me with bedroom eyes. With a suddenly husky voice you declare, "Well, if I'd known you were this kinky I'd have just worn my bodystocking. Only I wanted to enjoy all this and it doesn't have a crotch to get tight and rub against me. So... maybe I can borrow yours to rub against?" You cock your hip toward me as you finish.

That does it. You see me bite my lip as my eyes close. This time I quiver as the swelling overtakes me, and you watch me grow outward by inches. Slowly, my expansion peters out, but I'm still left trembling, returning your stare.

And you know you have me. You half strut, half waddle toward me. It's gotten a lot harder to move. I say nothing as you approach, only eying you intensely.

"Nothing to say, huh? I mean, that must have sounded good, because you look about ready to blow, baby. Maybe I should give you a goodbye kiss?" You cock your head, then start to lean in with pouting lips. We're only separated by inches, and you can hear a great stretching sound from me, like a party balloon or maybe a raft getting pumped up.

Then you dart your hand out. Physical contact was definitely against the rules... but at a time like this rules are made to be broken. Besides, you can tell I'm into this. So, you run your hand between my beer-keg thigs in one long, luxurious stroking motion. Time slows to a singular moment, just long enough for you to hear me say: "God you're hawt." I sound equal parts turned on and resigned.

You'd describe the roar that ensues as I burst into a million little pieces as deafening... if it weren't for all the ringing in your ears. The concussion knocks you back into the nearest wall. When you finally open your eyes, you see little tan and black fragments of me raining down.

Then, you feel it building and building in you. Triumph. Pride. Pressure. Pleasure. Like you've never felt before. You won. You blew me apart. You're the sexiest one.

When it all hits it's like a glorious bomb in your nerve endings. All of them. You know can't get much bigger in your outfit, and you feel your top and leggings binding up against your drum-tight skin, quivering for a moment around you. You finally feel the straps of your sandals cutting into you. It's great.

You know you're swelling and recall the pact. There's a ripping, slpitting sound, and your heart stops for a split second as you wonder if it's your end. Then you realize your clothes are falling away, and you're liberated.

You feel cool air on your skin, and the sensation is amazing. The breeze makes your nethers twinge and then you finally let go with the bliss. You hear a voice say "God I'm hawt," and realize it's yours.

You're enjoying yourself so much, you almost don't notice that rumbling. It kind of sounds like far off thunder. But you shrug, because you're having too good a time to think abou...

[Readers so inclined may choose to imagine an appropriate "kaboom" sound at this point. Those who do should be aware that this is entirely gratuitous, but is totally consistent with the author's brand of kink.]

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