Betty wants to play with you
The sound of Betty’s giddy drunk laughter rings in your ears as she continues to hold your face in her cleavage, her soft figure jiggling all over your puny body pinned beneath her. For the sake of your size, you try to focus on getting Becky’s phone free, rather than the copious amounts of boob flesh surrounding your entire head. However, reaching the phone will involve going even deeper inside said boob flesh, a risky maneuver. With your arms trapped beneath Betty, all you can do is try squirming your head further into the vast chasm of her beer-soaked cleavage, hoping to maybe grab the phone with your teeth.

Betty feels the pleasant sensation of you eagerly wriggling your face against her wet, sticky breasts and assumes you’re just being bold, trying to drink up as much of her beer as possible. “Ha, I knewww you’d like it,” she slurs boastfully. “Drink it all up little guy. Heehee, All aboard the motorboat,” Betty cheers while imitating the sound of a foghorn.

Ignoring Betty’s inebriated goading, you open your mouth to grab the phone but miss. With all the beer and boob stifling your vision, it’s hard to tell just how far out of reach the phone is. All you manage to do is accidentally swallow some beer while the rest of it gets splattered across your face and shoulders. Getting desperate, you stick out your tongue to maybe touch and unlodge the phone, but you just wind up blindly lapping some of the beer off of Betty’s sensitive, intoxicating skin. Shuddering from the touch of your tongue, Betty coos loudly and rewards you by shimmying her shoulders, gently buffeting you with her bosom. “Good to the last drop, huh, little guy?”

Betty stays like this for another minute, blissfully letting you ‘drink’ from her while completely unaware of your struggles. With the last of the beer drained from her cleavage (most of it spilling on either her, you, or the couch), she sits up. You’re relieved to finally breath fresh air again, but you’re still no closer to getting that phone back. “If you want more, Tommy, just say the word. There’ssss plenty more where that came from,” Betty slurs coquettishly while holding an unopened beer can over her chest.

“N-no thanks, I’m good,” you say nervously as you sit up, unsure you can handle another helping of Betty’s beer boobs.

She shrugs and carelessly tosses the can aside, letting it burst and spill on something besides her for once. A tipsy grin returns to Betty’s face as she leans back towards you, giving you another eyeful of her spectacularly huge, hanging breasts and the hardened pink nipples that crown them. “Ssso what do you want to do next?~” She gives you a pair of hungry eyes that let you know that’s very eager to spend some more time with you.

Speaking of eyes, yours are inevitably drawn to Betty’s breasts, so massive that they almost have their own gravitational pull. Betty’s tits are truly something else, and that’s not just the beer in your system talking. You can hardly comprehend how big and perky they are, and the way they wobble ceaselessly with the slightest movement makes your cock throb gratefully. But that’s exactly why they’re so dangerous! If you’re not careful, Betty’s boobs could easily eat you up the same way they did Becky’s phone. Much to your chagrin, just the thought of that happening to you is as arousing as it is terrifying.

Betty notices you ogling her prized assets and beams. She hefts her chest to further show it off. “Like what you sssee, huh? You should watch how I use these babiesss in the ring. A few swings from them, and anyone’s knocked out cold. Pow! Pow!” Playfully making her point, Betty makes a few mock swings with her breasts, pretending to wallop someone with them while making them wobble ceaselessly. “Want me to ssshow you,” she asks suggestively.

You gulp. “Tempting offer, Betty, but I think I should go.” You see the disappointment wash over Betty’s face, but you know you’re making the right call. “If you could just give me my phone back, I’ll get out of your boobs--I MEAN HAIR!”

She gives you a genuinely confused look, the alcohol putting her short-term memory on the ropes. “Phone? What phone?”

“The phone you took and stuffed between your…” At a sudden loss for words, you nervously point to Betty’s chest in an attempt to be tactful.

Wonder Bust curiously looks down to where you’re pointing, and she smiles impishly while stifling a laugh, as if she just thought of a naughty joke. “Heehee...oh these? My boobies,” she coyly asks while pointing to them.

“Y-yes, if you could ju--”

Betty interjects with an irresistibly, titanic bounce, “My massive fucking titties?”

You’re confused where she’s going with this, but damn is she making it impossible to look away. “Ummm...yeah, I--”

“My super-stuffed milkers? My honker-bonker doinky-boinkies?” Betty jiggles nonstop while continuing her little rant. It’s as immature as it is surprisingly eloquent, considering her drunk state, and you can’t help but get enticed by her words. Well, when you’re talking about a pair of watermelons like THOSE, how could you not?

“My fucking fabric-stretching wind flapping gravity welling sex mounds?” Betty repeatedly pokes her bosom with both fingers, letting them sink deeply into her flesh and using them like arrows to direct all your attention to her chest and nothing else.

She moves her hands behind her head to strike an overtly seductive pose, then alluringly wobbles her chest back and forth as she finishes speaking. “You mean these super-duper, ultra-hyper goddamn motherfucking TITS?” There’s a moment of silence before Betty giggles uncontrollably over successfully referencing a meme, and the slack-jawed look on your face made it all the more worth it to her. This is a playfully childish side of Wonder Bust that hardly anyone gets to see.

Just as you catch yourself beginning to drool at the sight of Betty’s bust quaking from her laughter, Becky’s phone falls free from it and lands on Betty’s lap! You quickly reach for it, but Betty grabs it before you can, and her other hand grabs your outstretched wrist before you can retract. “Woah there, hot ssstuff. Wouldn’t you rather put your hands on thisss instead?” She promptly shoves your hand deep against a mind-numbingly soft breast, forcing you to grope it as its burgeoning flesh spills past your overwhelmed fingers.

Despite your male urges screaming otherwise, the sight of your small fingers disappearing against Betty’s oh-so-massive body reminds you what’s at stake if you stay. Since you can’t pull yourself free from her grip, you try pleading. “P-please, Betty, just let me go. I can’t stay.”

Betty blushes and cutely puffs her cheeks, pouting at your continued resistance. She lowers her face to yours, close enough for you to smell the alcohol in her sweet breath. “Awww, why not? Don’t you like me?”

You laugh nervously. “Oh, what’s not to like,” you say in a moment of painful honesty while silently admiring Betty and her figure one more time. “But that’s just it. I--”

“Great,” Betty sings. That was all she needed to hear. “Then let’s play a game next. If you win, you get your phone back,” she says as she casually stuffs the phone back into her cleavage. “Dont worry, I’ll make it easy for you, cutie.~”

You sigh. Betty’s not giving you a lot of options here. “Um, ok I guess? What’s the game you had in miiiiiind!?” As you finish your sentence, Betty shoves you back against the couch armrest, looming her body over yours while grinning in excitement.

Teasingly dangling her awe-inspiring chest just millimeters above your face, Betty coyly draws out her words with a drunk slur as she ‘innocently’ tells you what’s in store for you. “Oh, you knowww.~ Just a good, old-fashioned game of...Catch The Titty!!” Suddenly, Betty places a hand on each of her breasts, aiming her torpedo chest directly at your face, then she drops her bosom onto your face. “Boop!” She ever-so-gently kisses your face with her breasts before pulling them back up, and she does this repeatedly while giggling like a schoolgirl. “Boop...Boop...Boop!”

“Mmph!? H-hey, wait Betty, I--mpmmph!” Startled and unable to get a word in during Betty’s incessant teasing, you quickly hold your hands up above your face before she ‘kisses’ you again. You assume she’ll stop once you get your hands on her breasts again, but she laughs as she grabs your hands and pins them to your sides..

“No, silly! Don’t catch with your hands. Catch with your mouth!” Wonder Bust hovers a boob directly over your face, aiming a nipple at your lips. She gives another pendulous wiggle before repeatedly dropping her tit on your wide-eyed face. “Catch. The. Titty. Tommy!” She switches back and forth between each boob as she continues her drunk game, refusing to stop until you finally take the hint and try to latch onto one of her nipples.

You know the risk you take if you play along, but you feel your willpower fade each time Betty bops you with her soft, perfect tits. That, coupled with slight buzz coming on from the beer you drank, makes it feel like your rationality is caught in an inescapable submission hold beneath Wonder Bust, and it’s gonna tap out any second! Both your head and your cock are screaming at you to do something before you go insane, but, since you can only move your mouth, you’re not left with many options.

What do you do?
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May 31, 2023