Brighton Rock

"Mmmmm... No need... " Harriet moaned softly between licks. "I already swallowed a huge load of my boyfriend's cum and I wasn't going to have any lunch, but this is yummy." She finished licking up all the cum and looked at her wet hand. "Actually, could I borrow that towel, after all?"

"Y... yes, ma'am..." the salesman picked it up promptly and handed it to the super-stacked blonde.

Harriet dried her hands and then took the proffered ice. Then she reached down to her... "Oh, shucks!" she stamped her foot down, sending very interesting wobbles through her chest area. "I left my bag in the car."

"Oh..." the salesman shrugged. After all, if that display wasn't worth the price of a vanilla ice with a raspberry twist, he didn't know what was.

"I know," Harriet grinned as an idea formed in her mind. "Lean over a moment." And she indicated that the salesman lean over his counter toward her.

Mildly surprised, the guy leaned low over his counter, expecting Harriet to whisper something to him. But she didn't whisper...

"Lift my top up, would you, please?" she requested casually. "It's a bit difficult carrying this ice."

The salesman was gob-smacked. He looked up at Harriet as if unable to believe his ears.

"Go on..." she urged him.

Fingers trembling, the salesman lifted up Harriet's top and stared breathlessly at the largest, roundest, fullest, most awesome tits he'd ever seen. They were framed, rather than restrained, by a tiny, pink bikini top that barely covered her nipples. "Oh my God..." he gasped finally.

"Why don't you get a little closer?" Harriet suggested, taking a hold of his head with her free hand and pulling it into her cleavage. "Now, how does that feel?"

"Mmmmmm..." the salesman moaned blissfully as he felt the huge globes surround his head. "Nndful," he replied, his words muffled by girl-flesh.

"I thought you might like it," Harriet continued, pulling him tighter. Would you like me to slap you with them?"

"Mmmm... Hmmm..." the salesman mumbled through a face full of titflesh, and his head nodded up and down as far as it could within its mammary prison.

Harriet gave a little smile as she stood back just a fraction. It had been ages since she'd last titty-whipped a guy. Using her left hand she pulled down both sides of her bikini top to reveal the remainder of her breasts, including her very hard and very erect nipples.

Then she began to gently shake her upper body. Instantly her humungous breasts swang into life and she stepped slightly forward...

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Mmmmm... She loved the feel of her huge balls of titflesh smashing into the side of some poor guy's face. It never ceased to amaze her how such tiny movements of her back muscles could cause such a huge swinging motion in her breasts.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

In fact she had to be very careful not to swing too hard. Her breasts, although soft and pliant, were very, very heavy and at full whipping speed they could do a lot of damage.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Giant breasts had been a Humper 'secret' weapon for generations. Not only were they irresistible to men, but they were devastating in a fight.

Her mother, Hilda, had once used two enormous titty slaps to knock down their neighbour, Debra Morgan, after she slapped her across the face and insulted Harriet.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

And some time ago, Harriet had had to lay out Diana Crawford with a couple of well-aimed funbag slaps to the face.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

That showed her! Harriet remembered the moment with a sense of satisfaction. Teach her to call me a whore!

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Damned Debra Morgan!

Damned Diana Crawford!

Slap! Slap! Slap!

"Er... Ex... excuse me, Miss..." A timid, nervous voice and a tap on her thigh brought Harriet back to the present. "I... er... I... don't think he can feel it any more..."

Harriet stopped throwing her immense titties around and let the ice cream salesman's face nestle back between the huge, soft cushions that were her breasts for a moment. She looked down at the voice.

It was the teenager she'd just pulled off. He'd sat himself up and was leaning awkwardly on the counter beside her. He was staring, unblinking, up at the salesman's head as it lay quietly in between Harriet's enormous breasts, and continued to watch as it slid silently down her front and to the ground beside him.

"I... er... think he's out cold," the teenager continued.

"Ooops!" Harriet put her hand over her mouth for a moment as she looked down with concern at the poor man she had just knocked senseless with her vast balloons of flesh. She sighed with relief when she saw he was still breathing, and noticed with some satisfaction the dazed but very happy look on his face. "That'll teach me to think about Diana Crawford while I'm titty slapping guys... I'm terribly sorry..."

"I don't think he can hear you," the teenager continued. "But I don't think he minded. His last words sounded a little like 'Oh yes!' but it was a little difficult to tell."

"I really should get going," Harriet looked at the melting ice in her hand. "My Chucky is waiting. Please apologize for me when he wakes up."

The teenaged guy sighed wistfully as Harriet replaced her bikini top and her T-shirt and turned to make her way back to Chuck's car. Then he looked down at the unconscious figure beside him.

"You lucky bastard," he sighed, punching him in the arm.

Part 03

Harriet quickly made her way back to Chuck, conscious that his ice cream was getting smaller and smaller by the moment.

When she arrived back at his car he was sitting up and drinking thirstily from a bottle of water.

"Awww... Poor Chucky. You look like you really needed that," Harriet smirked as she opened the car door and sat beside him for a moment. "I wonder why?"

"I lost a lot of fluids!" Chuck gave her an accusing look. "I think I was attacked by some sort of vampire," he replied.

"Hmmm... A balloon-breasted, lust-filled, cum-starved vampire, eh?" she appeared to mull the idea over. "You could be right... Seriously though, I sucked an awful lot out of you. You probably should drink some more of that before we go out onto the beach."

Chuck Dicker took another long swig of water as Harriet held out the ice cream.

"And I bought you an ice cream, your favourite, vanilla with a raspberry twist," Harriet waited while Chuck lowered the water bottle & took a hold of it. "Sorry it's a bit melted, but I er... had to pay for it before I left."

Chuck tried to make sense of that for a moment, giving Harriet a slightly bewildered look, and then gave up and turned his attention to the ice cream.

"Mmmm..." Chuck began lapping away at the ice, eager to eat it all up before it melted away.

"Mmmm..." Harriet echoed. "Nice tongue action. Just you remember that for later."

"Anything... If it'll keep you away from my cock," Chuck joked back. "I think you broke it. I doubt it'll ever work again."

"Awww... You forget..." Harriet ran her finger up the front of Chuck's shorts, causing an immediate jolt of pleasure with her touch. "I'm an expert wee wee handler. I have a feeling I can get it working again when I'm ready." She suddenly removed her hand and climbed out of the car. "But right now I want to get to work on my tan and the beach looks soooo good."

Leaning over to pick up her bag from the front seat, Harriet treated Chuck to a spectacular view of just how huge her tits were, as they hung low, very low, from her chest.

Chuck gawped open-mouthed at the sight until Harriet retrieved her bag, stood up and shut the door. Then he quickly found his own things and followed her down onto the beach.

Harriet stepped onto the sand and looked around the beach for a suitable spot to lie in the sun and get her tan.

Her attention was drawn to a roped off area a short way to the north, toward which a number of beach-goers were already being drawn. Her curiosity aroused, Harriet grabbed Chuck by the hand and pulled him toward the ropes to see what all the fuss was about.

"Come on, Chucky," she continued to drag him up to the gathering crowd. "It might be something fun."

Not content with the poor view of events from the back of the expanding crowd, Harriet began to gently push her way through the collecting people toward the rope barrier - Chuck in tow, silently behind her.

Occasionally people turned to protest at being jostled by Harriet but one glance at her monumentally-stacked T-shirt and they fell silent in awe.

As she neared the front of the crowd Harriet could finally make out more of the strange goings-on behind the ropes. The first thing she noticed was the presence of a film crew - two cameramen and a soundman.

It was a film set!

And parked at the edge of the waves was a sparkling white limousine with darkened windows. Beside the limo were two elegant white chairs and a matching table. On the table were two glasses, champagne on ice, and a vase containing a single red rose.

"Awwww..." Harriet smiled and clasped her hands together. "How romantic. It must be a love film."

"Ohhh no..." Chuck cried in horror. "A chic flick." He quickly resigned himself that this was going to ruin his afternoon. Harriet was bound to insist on watching. Determined to make the best of it, Chuck looked around the roped off set in greater detail at the way the film was being made.

In addition to the camera and sound crew, several other guys were milling around the set - moving things, keeping the onlookers quiet, handing out flyers - while one particularly tall dark and handsome type, dressed in a tuxedo, stood leaning up against the side of the car looking increasingly impatient.

Hmmm... thought Chuck. The leading man. Looks vaguely familiar. Nothing interesting...

A short, fat, balding guy in his fifties stood just inside the rope holding a megaphone. From the way he blasted out orders it was obvious that he was in charge. In his other hand he held a well-worn and tatty book - not much more than a bundle of loose papers.

The director, Chuck surmised. He might be quite entertaining if he has plenty to shout about.

"Where the hell is Sandy?" the director cried out. You didn't need to see the expression on his face to tell he was angry. "Where the freakin' hell is my fluffer!"

Fluffer? Chuck's attention was caught on that one single word. This must be a porn film! Yes! I'm saved!

"What's a fluffer, Chuck?" a puzzled Harriet turned to ask her boyfriend.

"It's what they call girls who er... keep the guys' dicks up between scenes when they're shooting porn films," Chuck smiled. "I'm surprised you don't know." He thought for a moment. "In fact I'm surprised you haven't applied for a job."

Harriet elbowed him gently in the ribs and then thought about it a bit.

"What do they do?" she asked, growing more interested. "Handjobs?"

"Blowjobs usually. Just enough to keep the guys hard and ready before they go into action," Chuck explained.

"And then?"

"Then the guy goes back into action with the female stars and the fluffer takes a break."

"So the poor fluffers don't get any of the wee wee juice?" Harriet was appalled. "That's just not fair. It's... it's... appalling. Those poor girls... What an awful job. It sounds so very unfilling... I mean unfulfilling."

While they were talking one of the crew had gone up and spoken to the director. He looked nervous to the point of sickness.

"Ill!" the guy was screaming even louder now. "Ill! Well now she's fired. You're all fired. This production is over!"

"Shame," Harriet sighed. It might have been interesting to watch. "Why is the fluffer so important, Chucky. Surely his co-star can keep his wee wee up?"

"Not always," Chuck explained. "It's much harder than you think to keep a hard-on in front of an audience. There's a lot of pressure."

"I've never known guys to have a problem keeping their wee wees up," Harriet observed. "They almost always seem to be up."

"Er..." Chuck tried to explain. "Yes... you and your mother are very good at helping people overcome that particular problem. You have a gift." His eyes strayed down to Harriet's humungous breasts for a moment. "Er... gifts... Anyway... the stud might not fancy his co-star, or she might just not be that good a lay."

"Oh..." Harriet sighed and turned and made a step away from the rope. "Never mind. It might have been fun to watch."

"Hey!" Chuck grabbed at Harriet's arm for a moment to stop her leaving. "Why don't you do it?" he suggested.

"What? Do all the work and let some lazy bimbo get all the lovely juice?" Harriet was outraged. "No way!"

"Do you know who that is?" Chuck indicated the guy leaning on the car. It had come back to him now where he had seen him before. "That's Frank 'Foot-Long' Robinson." He had starred in a porn film Chuck had watched with Missy Cummings a couple of days ago.

"'Foot-Long,' eh?" Chuck watched Harriet mull the idea over in her mind. He could see she was tempted. "No... Sucking on a guy's wee wee and giving away all the yummy juice. It's just not right. It's... it's practically immoral. Come on, Chucky, nothing much is happening here." And they turned to leave once more.

"For heaven's sake, Max!" a female voice shrieked out from behind them - a very familiar female voice. "Can't we get started yet?"

"Not yet, Diana, my dear," the director's voice called back, as meek as a lamb.

"Diana?" Harriet and Chuck stopped, turned to face one another, and spoke precisely together. "Diana Crawford?"

They looked back and, sure enough, there was Diana Crawford leaning out of the limo's open door. Her long brunette hair shone in the sunlight and her light make-up was done perfectly. She looked gorgeous! One of her very very long legs was poking out of her dressing gown and resting on the ground.

The only thing that marred her looks was the look of total frustration on Diana's face. "I'm having my hair done in two hours," she shot the director a stinging look. "Get a move on!"

"I'm sorry, Diana, baby," the director remained subdued. "Sandy, the er... fluffer, hasn't arrived and we need to get Frank er... fired up. I... er... don't suppose you'd consider..."

"I told you before," Diana scowled. "I'm not putting that thing in my mouth. It's far too big and he keeps trying to push it down my throat. The answer is no!"

"But Diana, sweetie," the director pleaded.

"I said no!" Diana pulled her long, shapely leg back into the limo and slammed the door.

The director turned and sat down on a canvas chair just inside the rope near where Harriet and Chuck were standing. He slumped forward, letting his head fall into his hands for a moment, before leaning back and looking up into the sky - possibly looking for divine help.

"That was Diana Crawford," Chuck mumbled, trying to convince himself of the truth of what he had just seen.

"She's a porn star?" Harriet couldn't believe it. Although Diana enjoyed sex, she had always been a bit squeamish about boys cumming over her, and had never been keen on giving blowjobs. "Now this does change the situation," she smiled mischievously.

Harriet and Diana had once been friends at school. That was until Harriet started sucking off Diana's boyfriend, Wayne Martin, during morning breaks. Harriet tried to explain to Diana that it was nothing personal. She'd sucked off the whole football team that lunchtime. But Diana had been totally unreasonable about it and slapped her in the face, calling her a whore right in front of Missy Cummings and some of the other girls.

From then onwards they were bitter enemies and were always looking for ways to humiliate and belittle each other. Harriet was the usual winner of these contests. Even Diana's super-long legs were no match for her basketball-sized breasts and her insatiable sexual appetite.

Diana did have one memorable success - she once seduced Chuck Dicker causing Harriet to temporarily break up with him, but the victory was short-lived. Chuck soon learned that Diana was no substitute for Harriet and he set about winning her over once more.

Harriet now saw a perfect opportunity to humiliate her old rival one more time. It took only moments for her to run the plan through in her head and she smiled broadly as it all fitted neatly together.

"You're quite right, Chucky," she said in a slightly absent voice, still working out the last of her plan.

"What about?" Chuck wondered.

"I will suck off... ahem... I mean act as fluffer for Mr Robinson," she tried to compose herself and bring her own eagerness under control.

"You will?" Chuck looked excited. Watching Harriet blow other guys was almost as exciting as being on the receiving end yourself. She had developed fellatio into an art form.

"Well, it wouldn't be fair on all these nice people to just up and leave," Harriet grinned still wider then pulled her T-shirt up over her head and let it fall to the sand beside her. "They deserve a show." She took a deep breath, stretching her bikini top to the point of breaking. And I'm going to give them a show they'll remember for the rest of their lives!

Chuck watched with curiosity as Harriet walked silently up to the director. She had that look on her face that said she was up to something, but even he was surprised when Harriet walked straight into the back of the director. Her spectacular basketball-sized mammaries slapped straight into the back of his head, knocking him half out of his seat.

"Hey!" the director called out as he turned to view the clod who had just bumped into him. "Watch where you... ooo..." His voice trailed off as the full enormity of Harriet's breasts sunk into his brain. It took some time... "With tho... ose..."

"Oh, I'm soooo sorry, sir," Harriet put on her best expression of innocence. "I didn't mean to bump into with my boobies, but they are sooooo large I just can't keep them under control." She looked down at them with a meek smile.

"That... that..." the director was lost for words and resigned himself to a simple "OK."

My God! He thought to himself. She's incredible!

"Anyway," Harriet continued, cheerfully. "I heard about your little problem, and wondered if I might be able to help."

"You? Help?" the director replied, still somewhat stunned. Wanabee actresses often turned up at shoots hoping for a part, but no one before had ever turned up with... with... those...

By now the whole crowd was focussed on Harriet's discussions with the director - even those on the furthest side of the enclosure could see the immense balls of flesh on her chest. Those who were nearer and could hear the conversation were silently willing the director to take the blonde supervixen up on her offer quickly before she changed her mind.

"Well, I thought once Mr Foot-Long saw my titties, he'd grow hard for you," Harriet jiggled up and down excitedly, causing a movement of her breasts that caused the whole crowd to gasp in awe. "All the other guys do." She glanced down at the director's shorts for a moment. "You're getting hard, too. Oh please, Mr Director. I'd so hoped to see Mr Foot-Long in action. And it would be such a shame if all these nice people were disappointed. Can I help? Pleeeeeease..." She reached out and ran a finger down the director's arm.

"Well... er..." the director rooted around in his addled brain for the words. "We do have a problem... and er... I'm sure Mr Foo... er... Frank would greatly appreciate your help."

"Great!" Harriet jiggled and the crowd gasped once again. "What would you like me to do?"