James and the Giant Melons Ch. 01byinfatuatedbybreasts©
With a subtle grin, James proudly accepts Victoria's invitation, approaching her from behind. Her round, bubbly cheeks ripple while she pops her hips, teasing the 18 year old boy's beaming eyes. He takes a nervous gulp, continuing to making his way towards her as he reaches out with his long, shaky fingers. He gently lays his soft palms on the sides of her tantalizing rear, smearing skin to skin. His grin stretches wider across his youthful face as he admires her golden, smooth skin molding to his gentle grip. A painful throb ignites in James' swaying slab of meat. Another gulp lodges in his throat, managing to force its way down. The next throb causes his manhood to thicken. He pushes his hips forward and gasps a low, raspy grunt as the hot flesh presses into the buxom beauty's crack. The blonde Victoria tosses back her long locks of hair as she moves her chin over her shoulder. She flashes a smile back at James while he rocks his growing pole back and forth between her jiggling cheeks. Her glistening, plump lips slowly part with a light smack to coo, "Oh, James... Please f-"
James' eyes pop open as his alarm annoyingly rings in his ears. His hand flops over to the clock, smacking the button to turn off the interrupting buzzing. His eyelids are heavy, but he manages to lift them open. He squints while staring at the clock, trying to make out the time. He suddenly realizes that the alarm must have been going off for ten minutes. Being as punctual as he is, he grabs the sheets on top of him and rips them off to his side. He swings his long, scrawny legs over the edge of the bed and settles his feet into the ground. His jaw drops open as he lets out an impossible to ignore yawn while he steps up from the bed. Half-dazed, he glances down and notices his embarrassing erection. An image of Victoria flashes back in his mind. A goofy grin forms as he loses himself for a moment back in the erotic dream. He draws in a deep breath with his eyes falling shut, allowing himself the brief time of pleasure before he forces himself back into reality.
With his boner still as stiff as a board, James starts his morning routine to get ready for school. He has gotten used to ignoring it. He is a Senior at Southeast High and has been determined to lose his virginity since he was 15. However, it is becoming a feat that was not easy as he once thought he could overcome. Apparently, he has a difficulty achieving it in his own dreams.
After his cold shower, James finally succeeds in taming the beast. As if he had just won a gold medal at the Olympics, he smiles with joy and heads to the closet to dress himself. He starts off by opening his dresser and putting on specially knitted boxers. After opening another drawer and sliding on a pair of socks, he reaches up and thumbs through his shorts to find a reasonable pair of plaid. He steps through the holes in the shorts and tugs them up to his waist, buttoning and sealing the belt. He purses his lips until he finds his favorite white and blue striped polo. He dips his lanky arms into the armholes and yanks the shirt down his skinny frame. He buttons up the first button, leaving the other two unbuttoned to show off his lack of chest hair. He picks up a pair of Pumas from his shoe rack and makes his way back over to the bed. He plops down on the edge and slips on his shoes, lacing them up as the persistent Victoria happens to cross his mind yet again. The familiar, foolish grin forms across his thin lips while he daydreams about the blonde vixen. His motor skills are in auto-pilot, finishing up the laces while his sexually overdriven mind enjoys his fantasy for a few more seconds. He releases a heavy sigh and slaps his hands on his thighs, hoisting himself up from the bed and making his way out of his room.
James jogs down the stairs, gliding his hand down the banister. He has always wondered what it would be like to sit on the circular banister and ride his way to the bottom, but he hasn't quite dared to attempt it yet. Before he can finish imagining what it may be like to slide down the banister, he has already made it to the bottom of the stairs. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind, bringing breakfast to the foreground. He heads toward the empty kitchen and makes himself a bowl of Cheerios. With his single mother working an extra shift, James has had to make the most out of breakfast by himself. Knowing that he is behind schedule, he tilts back the bowl and finishes the last few drops of milk. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and tosses his bowl into the sink. He jogs over to his backpack leaning by the door and scoops it up and onto his back. He slams the door shut behind him as he continues jogging toward his car. He realizes that it's rather silly to be jogging for being a few minutes late to school, but the rush doesn't stop him from slamming the car door after he slips inside and nearly jamming his thumb. With a click of the garage door opener, he backs up and is on his way to school.
The tardy bell rings as soon James lays his hand on the door to his first period class. He lowers his head, knowing full well that he has just ruined his perfect track record. He breathes out a painful sigh and turns the handle. He steps inside and walks over to his seat in the front of the room with his cheeks flushed red. Ms. Fanning reaches up her dainty, small hand and lowers her glasses down the brim of her nose to give James a dreadful stare.
"You're late, James...", the teacher exclaims.
James replies without a word but simply nods his head. Paul, a burly kid, leans over in his desk and whispers into James ear, "You're late, fucker." He gives a quick, yet surprisingly powerful jab into James' left arm. Ms. Fanning manages to eye the sneaky punch.
"Paul, there will be none of that in my classroom. James, I want to see you after class."
James is taken aback, his skin suddenly pale. He cannot fathom why Ms. Fanning could possibly want to see him after class for merely being tardy the first time all semester. Involuntary thoughts flood his mind with the outrageous possibilities of why she may have asked him to stay late. Before he can come up with a rational reason, the bell rings.
With a hesitant stagger, James approaches Ms. Fanning's desk while the others pour out of the room. His eyes lower to meet his teacher's, but he can feel them lower further down to her neckline. Her golden skin contrasts with her bright, white blouse. His eyes travel farther down to wander her cavernous cleavage before he is interrupted by her sweet, light voice. He darts his light blue eyes to meet hers through the frame of his glasses while he takes a nervous gulp.
"Please, take a seat."
She motions for him to pull up a chair in front of her desk.
"James, I cannot help but to notice that you are consistently bullied."
James cocks an eyebrow, her statement throwing him off balance. He was sure that he was going to get nailed for his tardiness. Ms. Fanning continues, taking his silence as an answer.
"I saw Paul throw that punch. In fact, I have seen every punch that he has thrown. I really don't approve of it in my classroom, and I wanted to talk to you first."
James still cannot understand why she has pulled him aside rather than talking to the guy who actually punched him. With his mind racing with thoughts, trying to keep up with his teacher, she decides to continue.
"You know, I have heard rumors as to why it is exactly they bully you. Do you know why?"
James manages to slowly shake his head from side to side while he gazes at his teacher with a puzzled look. Her plump, glistening lips slowly curl into a peculiar smirk.
"The other boys bully you because they are jealous. At least, that is the rumor. I wanted to discuss it with you personally. Because if it is the truth, I believe it is only fair that you know."
James is beyond belief at this point. The thoughts running through his mind come to an abrupt stop. Ms. Fanning places her hands on the edge of her desk and lifts herself from her chair. James cannot help his young eyes as they fall onto her wobbling breasts, tightly constrained by her clinging blouse. His mind regains consciousness and begins formulating guesses of her bra sizes – 32C, 32D, 32DD, 32E? While his mind is occupied trying to guess the size of her bra, his nose suddenly becomes curious about her perfume. She has made her way across the desk, dragging her fingers on the edge along the way. She flashes her pearly whites with a lovely, bright smile. Standing at nearly 5'6" in height with 3" heels, she hardly has to look down at James while he is seated. The boy's hormones start to fire up as his eyes realize that he is eye level with her golden globes. His eyes grow wild, admiring the creamy flesh of her magnificently disproportionate bosom.
He draws in a long, slow breath through his nose. His nostrils flare, allowing as much of her intoxicating scent to flow through the passageway. A gulp forms a lump in his throat, struggling to get it to go down. A playful, light giggle escapes her lips as she rests her small, fragile fingers on his thigh. James' ears perk up, listening to the hustle and bustle happening outside the classroom door. His other senses ignore the sounds around him and hone in on the knockout blonde in front of him. His lips helplessly part, falling open with a deep, low moan rumbling into the open. Her ruby red lips spread into a wider grin as her fingers tap up his thigh. James is mesmerized by the jiggling, wiggling melons directly in his view. His heart is racing, pounding in his chest as his pulse increases exponentially. The pulse travels to his groin. His throbbing manhood creates a bulky bulge in his plaid shorts. The trouser snake inches down his thigh, meeting Ms. Fanning's tapping fingers. She slowly lays her hand flat, resting her palm on his thickening girth as the bulbous head continues stretching its way down toward his knee.
Ms. Fanning's bright, pink tongue sneaks out of its cave, scoops upward and smears across her upper lip before it dips downward and wets the lower. Her sparkling, glistening lips fall apart while curling into a joyful grin. She bends at the waist, leaning forward. Her heavy, soft pillows gently press into James' chest as her lips near his ear.
She softly coos, whispering, "It seems as if you supersede the expectations of the rumor. Listen closely to me, James."
The boy's eyes roll to the back of his head as his eyelids fall shut. Chills spread throughout his limbs, causing his hairs to rise while he intently listens to the phenomenally gorgeous teacher as she continues.
"... The boys don't tease you because of the reasons you may think."
Her limp hand firms its grip, clenching down. Her fingers cling to the throbbing, growing bulge. Ever so slowly, she pumps her tightening fist up and down his thigh.
"... The boys tease you because you are hung like a horse. I overheard one of the brutes talking about it, calling you a freak. Well, James... I'm here to tell you that you're not a freak at all. You are very... special."
James cannot believe what he his hearing. His body has taken over his mind, leaving him in a whirlwind of hormones. He squeezes down on the edge of the chair, trying to muster any strength he has inside him not to come prematurely. Before he can think another thought, he can hear the sound of a hand at the door handle. Ms. Fanning hears the same sound and quickly arches her back. James enjoys the mountainous melons wobbling back into their center of gravity while she gives a final squeeze of his rock hard member. She sends a playful wink in his direction before making her way back to the other side of the desk. She takes a seat and tilts her head down, causing her glasses to slide down the bridge of her nose.
"Now, James, I really want you to think about what we discussed. After you have thought about it all day, I expect to see you back in my classroom at the end of the day. I am not finished with you."
James completely awestruck nods his head, attempting to act nonchalant in front of his fellow classmate. He fails quite miserably and fumbles backwards, reaching for his notebook and books. He pulls them toward him and shoves them in his lap and stands up, stumbling out the door.
James finds it extremely difficult to concentrate throughout the day. All he can think about is what happened after first period. He struggles to finish through the day, making doodles and scribbles instead of focusing and taking notes. He hears another bell, counting them back in his head and confirming that is the seventh one. Nervous that the day is over, wondering if Ms. Fanning really expects him back in her classroom. He convinces himself that he has to at least give it a shot. The worst he suspects can happen is what he has put up with all his life. He nods to himself to verify his decision and makes his way to his Calculus teacher's room.
The boy nervously stands outside the door, swaying side to side as he watches other students exit the room. After the last classmate has left, he slips inside. He is greeted by his perky, grinning teacher.
"James, I wasn't sure if you'd be stopping by this afternoon. Please, shut the door. We still have much to discuss."
James obediently shuts the door behind him and walks into the classroom, laying his notebooks on a nearby desk. With a confident smile planted on her bright, red lips, Ms. Fanning struts away from her desk toward James and takes one step back, placing her rounded end on the edge of her desk with her hands gripping the sides. James can already feel a reaction stirring beneath his shorts. He attempts to withhold a helpless groan, but it inevitably escapes his lips. He watches her lips grow into a wider grin while she realizes the inexperienced, nervous boy is unaware of what to do next. She slowly raises her right knee and kicks out her foot. The edge of her heel clanks onto the chair nearest to her. James roams her tanned, slender leg up from her foot to the trim of her black skirt. She drags the chair over by the heel with her eyes fixated on the boy.
"Please, have a seat."
He nods with a gentle smile and accepts her considerate offer. He sits down in front of her, and she takes the opportunity to get closer to the boy. She sets heel after heel onto the floor and takes two steps toward him until her inner thighs are on either side of his. She slowly bends at her knees and leans slightly forward. Her abundant chest scrapes down the front of his polo. She slides in closer, pressing the flat of her breasts against the broad of his chest. Her pelvis lands in his lap as her hands fall onto his shoulders. Her head tilts to the side, causing her long, blonde locks of hair to flow down one side of her head. She inches closer, breathing lightly into his ear as her hips begin to rock at a light pace.
Her teeth scoop up the boy's lobe, nibbling gently as she grinds down onto his responding, throbbing member. She groans with excitement, keeping a steady, slow pace as his impressive stack of meat expands against her. The friction creates increasing warmth while the boy's manhood grows to her pleasure. His eyes briefly glance up at hers before falling down into her cleavage, eye-level with the biggest pair of breasts he has ever been so lucky to smell. He savors her aroma, inhaling as he leans in closer. His nose brushes against her smooth, soft skin. Unwilling to test his boldness, she glides her fingernails up the back of his neck, and she cups his head gently. Her fingers slip through his thick head of hair and pull him inward. He takes a deep breath before his nose plummets deep into her cleavage. His thin lips smear against her wobbling tit flesh, smothered by her massive mammaries. He smacks his lips up and down, turning his head slightly to the side as his hungry lips taste her sweet skin.
She smirks and lifts her hips, slipping her other hand down onto his shorts. With a quick tug, she yanks down his zipper and runs her fingers inside the hole. She finds another obstacle and swiftly undoes the button to his boxers and eagerly lunges her fingers inside. She grapples her fingers around the throbbing, veiny shaft. She smirks as she squeezes the girth, unable to get her thumb to meet her forefinger. She rolls out the still growing piece of meat. A breeze of warm air rushes over his exposed member, causing him to groan into her bosom. She playfully giggles, giving his stiffening pole a firm squeeze as she slides her hips further up his belly. She makes sure to keep her back arched, holding the boy's face buried inside her mountainous melons. She roams her fingers up and down, dragging her fingernails along the road mapped veins. She breathes a heavy moan into his ear before lowering herself back down with his incredibly hung meat beneath her skirt.
His eyes squeeze shut, gasping another low groan as his bulbous, sensitive helmet brushes against her bare pubic mound. He quickly realizes she either forgot or purposely decided not to wear any underwear. The thought creates a spark of electricity in his young body and a gush of thick pre-cum oozes from the fat head. She grins and smears the mess into her pelvic mound, running the head toward her slit. He gently eases his hips forward, trying to seal the deal, but her position overpowers him. She grapples his marbled shaft with a surprising strength, holding him steady by the grip on the back of his head. She jerks his head back and peers down into his eyes. He can see a glint of lust in her green, mesmerizing eyes as she pushes herself down.
Her velvet, slick lips part and envelope over the mushroom tip. She lets out a heavy pant as she pushes down harder, engulfing the plump head into her squeezing womanhood. She rolls her hips very slowly, sinking down further. Her folds cling tight to his wide shaft. Her body goes limp for a brief moment, losing control while she begins to take his monstrous rod. He follows suit and instinctively raises his hands from his sides, grasping her hips to hold her steady. His eyes are locked with hers while his hips gently rock as if they had a mind of their own. With a gentle ease, the top few inches of his incredibly long pole work their way inside her contracting, slick entrance. His fingers clamp tight on her waist, running his thumbs up and down the V of her hips while he guides her lower.
She rolls her way down, continuing to maneuver her hips as she slides her way back up. The process ensues, working to devour his sensational staff of fleshy meat. He gulps, clenching his teeth to contain his strength while he matches her rhythmic hips with movements of his own. His eyes finally fall from the gaze and sink into her wobbling, jiggling breasts. He notices the more he pulls her down while thrusting forward, the more her voluptuous curves shake. This entices him to make her fascinatingly large, endowed bosom to wiggle and jolt. He clamps his hands down tight and starts to take control. He holds her in position and bucks his hips with a powerful thrust. He drives his lengthy rod of meat into her velvety entrance with a steady pace, fixated on her impressive breasts jiggling like Jello. His pace quickens, picking up speed as he loses himself in the moment. He plants his feet firmly on the ground, gaining a strong composure as his bucks start to get wilder. His fingers grind tight through her blouse, keeping her from moving a muscle while he drives his hung member deep into her convulsing pussy.
James gains a proud confidence while he drills her to her first climax. Her hands both fall down onto his shoulders, squeezing tight while she rapidly swirls her hips, unable to move up and down. The tall, hung boy yanks her body up and down with all the strength inside him while his hips swiftly thrust to meet her motions downward. Her velvet walls close in around his shaft, squeezing tight. His heavy, swollen balls rise toward his pelvic bound as a sensational release of hormones rushes throughout his body. His pace growing similar to that of a jackhammer, he pile drives is stacked staff deep into her forbidden womanhood. Her screams begin to fill the room as a powerful orgasm washes over James' massive meat. The young, inexperienced boy is unable to contain himself any longer. Having felt her sweet, juices pour over him; it pushes him to the edge. His eyes roll to the back of his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he matches her screams with a low, burly grunt of ecstasy.