Donovan's Big Tits

[To my readers: Here are two shorter pieces that share very different takes on a common theme. I hope you'll enjoy both of them.]

What Sisters Can Share

In a lot of ways, my baby sister Tanya is just like me. We're both natural blondes with bright blue eyes and all-American figures, with the kind of huge breasts that make men drool over us wherever we go. Neither of us is very far from the ground, although I'm a little bit taller. On the other hand, Tanya is a cup size or two bigger. But we can basically trade clothes otherwise, although her long pants are kind of pedal pushers on me. Still, we spend most of the year in shorts and T-shirts anyhow.

But while I'm the sort of girl who likes to spread it around, grazing on the wild cock wherever it can be found, Tanya is a dedicated tease who doesn't mind flashing her big boobs or even her panty-covered crack at an attractive fellow, but who never puts out no matter how hot she gets him, or herself for that matter. I've often tried to point out to her how unfair this is to the males of our species, but she just smiles and shakes her head.

A couple of months ago, I moved out of the house and into my first apartment by myself. Tanya was still living at home, finishing out her senior year in high school. She came to visit me often, though, so I didn't miss her quite as much as I could have. I had begun letting one of my boyfriends who I'll call Rock -- okay, why do you think I call him that? -- stay overnight with me. A lot. I'm certainly not in love with him, and he may not be much in the brains department, but he can certainly perform in the sack, and I've taught him everything he needs to know to be a hit with me every time.

Sometimes he'd meet Tanya there, and then oh boy, would the sparks fly. This was one fellow my baby sister really didn't want to say no to -- she didn't say anything, but I could tell -- and as for Rock, he kept pestering me for a shot at my sexy sibling. Why not? It wasn't like I didn't have three or four other guys on a string at any given time, he said. Oh yes, we knew all about each other's extracurricular sex lives.

Now ordinarily you'd expect a girl to say hell no, wouldn't you? I mean, you'd expect her to say, "You want to do what with my only sister? Fuck you, Jack, head up your crack, take a hike and never come back!"

But Rock can be very, very persuasive. Especially with his long tongue when he's been using it expertly to lead you through a string of orgasms, each more powerful than the last one. And even more so when he's got his dick, which is as long and hard as a crowbar, crammed up inside you while he's talking about your sister's boobs and how he'd like to do nasty things to them, driving you from one pussy-pounding climax to the next. When a guy like that says to you, "It's about time that little Tanya learned what sex is all about," you just nod your head and go right on sucking him off till he comes down your throat.

I finally told him yes, as long as I got something out of the deal. So the next time Tanya called about coming over, I said sure -- but when she got there, I had "gone out", and she didn't find anybody in the apartment but Rock. He told her, "Why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable until she gets back?" She sat down on the sofa, showing him her legs -- but she didn't expect him to sit down beside her.

While she tried to make small-talk, Rock had his arm around Tanya's back. She tried to play coy with him, I know she did. But every time she pulled away, he was all over her again, all the while giving her his extremely convincing line of bullshit. Soon she just lost it, and she snuggled close to him, turning her face upwards for her first fully sexual kiss.

Pretty soon the two of them were running for my bedroom, stopping almost every step to kiss again or to take off some piece of clothing. Her leg slithered over his meaty thigh, and they made it to the bed in a sort of three-legged race, Rock tugging on his clothes, Tanya slithering out of her panties -- my panties, actually, the little slut!

Rock damn near shot his load when he got a look at Tanya's mind-blowing titties. I know, because I was in my bedroom closet the whole time, trying not to smother myself as I forcibly kept myself from laughing. Pretty soon he was licking and sucking her long nipples. Next he had his head between her breasts slicking up her cleavage, shortly replacing it with the rock I named him for.

He kept telling her sweet things like I had certainly never heard from him, and I couldn't believe what a fool my smooth and studly boyfriend was making of himself over my little sister -- why, he didn't even come between her boobies, just got her all worked up until she was blushing halfway down their upper surfaces!

Then I watched as he licked her slowly and carefully to her first climax with a man. I could tell from the way she shook her hips and kicked her feet against the bed that it was a mind-blowing one. But I definitely wasn't laughing as he hovered over her on his knees and elbows, telling her how deeply he loved her as he tenderly fucked her virgin slit. I knew the man. That didn't sound like bullshit to me.

Nevertheless, I had had my hands in my pants for quite a while by then, and was going to town on myself. It was still the hottest thing I'd ever seen. It takes more than one orgasm to completely satisfy Rock, I can tell you, though he was very sweet and gentle with Tanya after she told him she was sore, taking his last climax between those tits he's so wild about after all. By the time they were finished, I had gotten myself off so many times I couldn't begin to count them.

Finally I was thinking, "It's time to move on, girl. Let little Tanya have him, especially since she loves him." But then I thought, "No, why should I? There's more than clothes that two sisters can share."

##### ##### #####

Can You Feel This?

My brand-new breasts were fantastic. The implants had made them grow from almost nothing to serious melon size, while remaining firm and shapely all the time. Yet they looked natural, not rock-hard chunks of plastic like you'd find on a Barbie doll. I had simply gone from a woman with almost no breasts to a woman with big ones overnight. I thought of the surgery as giving me what Nature should have given me at puberty but somehow missed out on.

My boyfriend, of course, loved them so much that he could spend hours with his cock buried in my cleavage while his tongue licked me from asshole to belly-button. I got a lot more admiring glances on the street, and not just from jerks, either. And since I work as a cocktail waitress, my tips quickly tripled, and I found work at a new restaurant that took the concept of pay to a whole new level. It was all so cool.

There were only two downsides, the catty comments from some of the bitches that used to be my friends -- and what did I care for them? I still had plenty of true friends who had supported me through the whole process. And the fact that I hadn't yet told my parents about it. I had no idea about how they felt about the whole notion of plastic surgery, but I was about to find out, because they were coming to town for a long-overdue visit.

I asked my boyfriend if I should e-mail them an advance warning, but he had his head stuck between my boobs at the time and couldn't hear me. Oh well. As he was putting my ankles over his shoulders and showing me once again what a nice big dick he had, I decided that my parents would have to find out the old-fashioned way.

We'll skip over the first minutes of that awkward meeting. My mother nearly fainted on the spot, and my father's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. They took me to dinner in the hotel restaurant, a pretty swanky place, but I doubt if any of us tasted the haute cuisine. And our conversation was limited to "Please pass the salt." and (my father to my mother), "Don't kick me."

Finally my mother excused herself, saying she had a headache and needed to go back to the room to lie down. That was what she always did when she thought my father and I needed to have a heart-to-heart about something, although she thought of it as "a serious discussion". My mother and I respected and loved one another, but it was hard for us to talk for very long without getting on each other's nerves.

My father looked into my eyes in the semi-private booth where the maitre d' had seated us. "Well, Patsy," he said, "are you happy?" From everyone else I insist on Patricia, but it's no use trying to get my dad to drop his nicknames from when I was a child. He nodded obliquely at what he'd been staring at all night.

"They've made a huge difference in my life." I may have lingered on the word "huge" a bit.

He glanced nervously around the dark restaurant. "What I can't understand is ..." He dried up and had to take a drink from his water glass. "What I can't understand is how the hell anybody can keep his hands off them!" And suddenly his hands were across the table, making a grab, and I had my own damned father massaging my bulging, bra-less breasts through the skimpy fabric of my electric-blue strapless dress.

"Dad!" I whispered, scandalized, but he paid no attention.

"Did your nipples retain their sensitivity?" he asked me hoarsely. "What I mean is, can you feel it when I do this?" His fingers were squeezing my nipples gently and massaging the milk glands at the base of each one. I nearly rose up off the seat.

"God, yes, Dad. And you've got to stop that unless you want me to cream my panties right here in the restaurant."

Naturally, after that remark stopping was the last thing on my father's mind. Somehow I found myself alone with him in the even darker alley beside the hotel. We could hear car engines and people talking all around us, but neither of us cared. My father pulled down my gown to my navel and admired my breasts, naked in the silver moonlight that was the only light in that alley. My nipples were completely stiff and half an inch long: even the ring of little bumps that surround the central mass were standing up straight under his incessant tweaking and squeezing. My dad moaned a long moan, then bent down to engulf my right nipple in his mouth while continuing to use his hand to work on my left.

Believe me, I hadn't lied about how sensitive I was. In fact, because I no longer had to worry about whether a man was despising me for my undersized tits, I was far more passionate and uninhibited about breast play than before. I had no psychological barriers to pleasure. because I could be completely relaxed and un-self-conscious. In fact, I had to admit that I had encouraged a grope or two from other men. But nothing like this had ever happened before! In the alley with my own father I was more stimulated than ever. This would have to be a quick, stolen encounter, but it was all the more precious for that.

"Have you ever fucked a woman between her tits before, Daddy?"

He mumbled "no", and I wasn't surprised. I inherited my lack of development from my mother, and I knew that Daddy loved her and had very likely never done anything remotely adulterous before. I couldn't repress a giggle. It was my father who had given me my first ice-cream cone as a child, and now I was going to introduce him to a new pleasure! I retreated into a part of the alley that was completely dark, and knelt down on the rough concrete, my head thrown back and my tits lifted high in the air.

"Fuck me, Daddy!" I said. "Screw me right in my deep, dark cleavage."

He hadn't exposed himself to me before. Now he did, but not before looking around to see if anyone was nearby. The alley was clean enough that it was probably a popular shortcut during the day, but it was not the sort of place that people would want to walk through at night. When he unzipped himself with fumbling fingers and whipped out his cock, I had to swallow hard to keep myself from drooling out of the corners of my open mouth.

My father's dick! I had never expected to see the organ that had given me life, but there it was, stiffening in front of me into a huge erection, much larger than my boyfriend's. I knew I had something to look forward to. I grabbed it at the root and leaned forward, taking it fully into my mouth. I lashed his cock with my tongue, spreading it and smearing it with my ample saliva. Then I leaned back on my feet -- I had shed my high heels earlier -- and pulled his dripping dick right between my tits where it belonged.

"Fuck me, Daddy," I said once again. "In and out. Twist your hips and let me feel every inch." I let go with my hand, which was no longer required, and my father began thrusting. He was awkward at first, but I used both hands to bind my titties together, clutching them to form a tight tunnel for his hard and heavy pipe. Soon I was squeezing my breasts together as hard as I could, while he was pounding harder and harder into my chest and panting.

"Oh, God, Patsy!" he exclaimed at last. "Oh dear Lord, oh fuck, so good!" And with that he exploded. His cream came squirting out and up in a fountain that blasted upward into my open mouth. I swallowed all I could and let the rest run down onto the slopes of my breasts. He pushed and panted for a minute until there was no more out of him, and then tried to catch his breath.

"Oh, Patsy," he said. "Never anything like it."

Finally I wiped as much of his juice as I could onto my fingers, and licked and sucked them clean so that I could pull up my dress over my heaving breasts. After all, he had me pretty worked up too. When everything was back in place, I slowly got up from the pavement and used both hands to lift the hem of my dress above my waist, showing everything from toes to navel except what was covered by my thong. "You're not finished, Daddy," I whispered to him. "I need to come too."

My father got the idea immediately. Shortly he was the one down on his knees, licking and sucking my bare cunt from one end to the other. As his tongue drilled down on my clit, I wondered briefly what he was going to tell my mother about our "discussion." Oh well, Daddy's an intelligent fellow. I was sure he'd think of something.