Your fingers fly across the controls—every muscle coiled tight as Nikki's grip slackens for a split second, distracted by Becky's screeching. The buggy's tires SCREECH against her palm as you wrench the wheel sideways, executing a perfect J-turn that sends you spiraling off the cliff of her hand.
For one glorious moment, you're airborne—wind whistling past your ears as the living room sprawls below like a death-defying racetrack. Then—THUD. You land nose-first in the valley between Becky's collarbones, your chassis wedged deep into the damp, perfumed crevice where her towel barely contains her chest.
Hot. Soft. *Suffocating.*
Becky yelps, staggering backward as your buggy vibrates against her sternum. "AH! SAMMY, YOU PERV—"
Her hands flap uselessly near her bosom, too terrified to squeeze you out lest she flatten you. Meanwhile, Nikki collapses onto the couch cackling, her fishnet-covered thigh SLAMMING down where you'd been seconds prior—crushing a throw pillow into stuffing confetti.
The world spins as Becky's frantic movements send tidal waves of flesh crashing around your trapped buggy. Each panicked gasp makes her breasts quiver violently, threatening to engulf your vehicle completely in suffocating softness. Her heartbeat thunders against the hood like war drums, her skin flushing scarlet from embarrassment and rising anger.
"GET OUT GET OUT GET OOOOUT!" she shrieks, hopping awkwardly—which only lodges you deeper into the sticky warmth of her cleavage. The friction burns your paint job raw.
Across the room, Nikki wheezes with laughter, tears streaming down her kohl-smudged cheeks. "Holy shit—he *aimed* for those milk tanks!" She pounds the couch, making springs squeal in protest.
Lauren finally intervenes, striding forward with earthshaking steps. Her manicured fingers plunge into Becky's cleavage like a crane salvaging wreckage from the ocean. When she pulls you free, your buggy drips with a mixture of soap residue and Becky's nervous sweat.
"Enough," Lauren declares, pinning you between two fingers like a dirty tissue. "Sammy, apologize to your sister. And Becky—wear actual clothes."
Becky crosses her arms defensively, making her cleavage bulge even more. "I WAS GOING TO! Until *someone* decided to joyride between my breasts!"