Balloon Factory Pt. 04: Melanie

At first, she thought of just cutting them up with scissors, but then she decided it would be better to let him know what he was missing out on. She dumped the balloons out on the bed. There were a lot—a couple of bags of 11" and 16" balloons, a handful of the Q24s and Fun Tyme 36s, and a couple of big, long balloons that he had told her about, but had not yet made her blow up—GL1200s, she thought he called them. There must have been fifty balloons in all, and that was a lot of blowing to do—but after all, he had trained her well.

She put the first balloon to her lips and began to inflate it.

Three hours later, she practically panting from the effort, her ears ringing from the popping, she admired her handiwork—or perhaps, she thought, she should call it her lung-work. Tom's beautiful balloon collection was now a pile of useless latex scattered around the room. She had considered merely blowing up all of the balloons and popping them en masse, but her experiences with Tom taught her that a balloon that was blown to bursting popped very differently than a balloon that was squeezed, or sat on, or popped with a pin. And so she had methodically blown everyone to bursting, one by one. The GLs has been the toughest; there were two of them, and they were huge, blowing up to six feet or longer before they finally yielded to her powerful lungs and exploded. The first one scared the daylights out of her, but the second wasn't so bad. She fingered herself as she blew them, and had a wonderful toe-curling orgasm with each one.

She looking at the pile of wrecked latex, the remains of Tom's balloon collection that she had destroyed, blowing each one to pieces with her powerful lungs. This filled her with a pleasant warmth, and she wrapped one of the pieces of latex around her finger and masturbated again. Then she gathered up two handfuls of latex shards and arranged them to form words on the bed:

FUCK YOU TOM

She went home and climbed into bed, a smile and the taste of latex on her lips.

The phone rang at 3am.

"What did you do? What the fuck did you do?" Tom screamed.

A day before she would have propitiated, anything to make him happy. But blowing all of his precious balloons to destruction had filled her with a new inner strength.

"I did what you want me to do, Tom," she said sweetly. "I blew your balloons to popping. You said that's how I would show my love, right? What's the matter, Tom? It's not like that asthmatic slut you've been fucking behind my back is going to be able to blow them up. Was that your little game, Tom? Make me blow some balloons to get yourself in the mood, then go stick your little cock into her?"

"Melanie, you've got it all wrong—how could you do this? If you loved me, you'd-"

"Good-bye Tom," she said, and hung up the phone. Then she took out a 36" balloon, a souvenir she had saved from Tom's collection, put it to her lips, and began to blow, one hand between her thighs.

School was drawing to a close, and the job hunt was keeping Melanie's mind off her broken heart. It was her counselor who told her about the job.

"There's a local toy balloon company looking for a marketing manager," he had said. "The owner's secretary is a friend of mine, and she asked if I had any up-and-comers who might be a good fit. I told him about you, my straight-A marketing student. What do you think? I could never work there, balloons scare the daylights out of me when they pop, but if that's not a problem for you..."

"It used to be, but it's not anymore," Melanie said, and she wondered what Tom would think when he realized what he had lost—an endless supply of balloons and a woman to blow them. Rumor had it Terrianne was knocked up and they were planning on getting married. No balloons for him!

At the interview, the HR manager was impressed by her grades and her portfolio.

"I just have to tell you," she said, "The job involves a lot of travel, and you'll have to blow up a lot of balloons. Is that a problem?"

"Oh no, not at all," Melanie said. "I've had lots of practice."

Almost two years to the day, Melanie finally ran into Tom and Terrianne—at the supermarket around the corner, of all places.

"Mel!" he said. "How are you? Gee, you look good. I heard... I heard about the job. Mel, listen, I'm sorry about what I put you through. It was wrong. I always loved you, and you were so good to me. You did... well, you know, those things. I really fucked up."

"Yes you did, Tom," Melanie said. Funny how she had been dreading this moment, but now that it had happened, she was surprised that she felt nothing—nothing but foolish. She had blossomed as a lover, taking on several new partners, all of whom were so much better than Tom. She even had one lover who liked to watch her blow up balloons, but he treated her so much better. How had she convinced herself that she had loved this conniving little shit?

"Listen," he said, lowering his voice. "Things with Terri... they aren't great. I mean, she thinks they are, but they aren't. I have to stay because of the baby, but... Mel, what I'm trying to say is... I miss you." He stole a glance at her prodigious cleavage. "I miss us. I miss the things we used to do. I get off work early on Thursday, do you think we could-"

"Oh, you must be Terri! Mel said brightly, and Tom turned, flustered, as Terri waked up, wheeling a stroller. "My name is Melanie, and I used to have some classes with Tom. He told me a lot about you."

Terri eyed Melanie up and down, her eyes lingering on Mel's massive bust, but apparently decided she didn't pose much of a threat and broke into a smile. "Nice to meet you," she said.

"Oh, and look at this little guy!" Mel said, looking down at the toddler in the stroller. "Oh, he's adorable! Terri, he looks so much like you." Terri beamed, while Tom shifted uncomfortably.

"Can I give him a balloon?" Melanie asked. "I work for a balloon company, and I always keep a few... here, this is a new teddy bear balloon we are just coming out with."

"Oh, thanks, he'll love that!" Terri said. "He doesn't get to play with many balloons. I have asthma, so I can't blow them up. Tom, could you-"

"Oh, no, it's okay, I'll blow it up for you. I have a lot of practice," she added, shooting a meaningful glance at Tom.

"Working for a balloon company, you must blow up a lot of balloons," Terri said. Tom shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh yes," Melanie said. "I blow up balloons every day." She put the red latex into her mouth, took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks and blew, swelling the teddy bear's head. "These are really tough, so you won't have to worry about him popping it." She blew into the balloon again.

"That looks really hard to inflate," Terri said, and Mel had the strong feeling that she didn't know about Tom's predilection. Tom, meanwhile, had lifted his grocery basket a little higher, covering his crotch. Melanie was pretty sure she she knew why.

"Yes, they're made of really thick latex, and you have to blow really hard," Mel said, with another sideways glance at Tom. "I've had a lot of practice. I must have blown up a dozen of these things last week." She continue to huff and puff, the bear taking shape from her mighty lungs, then she tied it off and handed it to the baby, who squealed with delight.

"And you don't think it'll pop?" Terri asked.

"You should keep an eye on him, but they are pretty durable. I blew one to bursting one time, and it was really difficult." This time she looked right at tom. "I blew so hard I thought my eyes would pop out. The balloon got huge. The bang was incredible."

"Wow, you must have really strong lungs!" Terry said. Tom shifted uncomfortably.

"I have to get going, but it was nice to see you Tom, and nice to meet you, Terri," Mel said brightly.

"Nice to meet you... Melanie, right? And thanks for blowing up the balloon for us."

"Any time!" Melanie said.

"Tom?" Terri turned away, and as Tom went to follow, Melanie shot a hand to his crotch. His cock was hard as a rock, and she gave it a quick squeeze.

"Have a nice life, asshole," she said, and walked away.

Melanie smiled at the memory as Bill Hedley said, "A long story, eh? Well, perhaps you could tell it to me over dinner. And you can blow my balloon up for me. If I can't do it, that is."

"Sure, why not?" Melanie said. "Call me an hour after the show closes."

"Count on it," Bill said with a smile. Melanie smiled back, and wondered what she would be blowing tonight.