Crunch Time - Wednesday

There was a loud crack, and the side of the stall shook as though hit with a sledgehammer, making Zoey flinch before mustering her resolve again.

"Stay back, Zee." The warning was panted out. "Almost... there. Can't stop. Don't want you to see me right now. Not like this."

Didn't she, though? Zoey wasn't stupid. Hadn't she been doing something similar all morning? Safely ensconced in the lost world of filing with perpetually wet panties and sawing digits...

That stall didn't have a lock, she knew. The bolt was busted, but the door still closed on sprung hinges. She reached out a shaking hand and pushed.

"Jeezus christ! What--hurgh~!" Sam spun around in surprise, fisting his hard dick just as a rush of pearly jism fountained from the engorged tip. "NOOoo!"

It sprayed and splattered the wall in a trail of sticky white as he turned, face beet-red and mortified, inadvertently placing Zoey squarely in the line of fire. Sticky seed rocketed across the short distance to douse the front of her baggy hoodie and draping skirts in gooey, dripping wads of cum.

She stood there frozen. Staring at Sam, with his pants tangled around his ankles and big, spouting member in hand, as the liquid heat soaked into her dowdy clothing before letting out a captured breath.

...it should have steamed in the already stifling air.

"Ooh, Sam. Thank gawd," She sobbed, tumbling forward in relief and forcing him to catch her. "I can't tell you what a mercy this is."

"Holy crap, Zoey, I am so fucking sorry... wait, what?"

He was holding her by the shoulders, fingers coated in pungent splooge, as she snuggled closer into his manly embrace. An insistent stiffness prodded at her belly, leaving a glistening mark.

"I'm not alone anymore, don't you see? You and me, we're the same. Suffering in horny silence." She almost wept, rubbing her nose into his ever-present sweater vest and snuffling up his masculine scent. The gnawing ache down below was returning with a vengeance. "You understand how it feels to be me. Something is terribly wrong, but we can help each other through it."

Sam's strong arms locked around her, propping Zoey up as she huddled against him, one hand rubbing comforting circles on her shivering back. The chronically shy brunette normally eschewed physical contact, but this touch felt good. Tender and affectionate. She leaned further into it.

"This is... This isn't the reaction I expected from you, Zee." He sounded confused. "What's got you so upset? If Tammy and Claire are--"

"No. No, it's not them. Well, not entirely. It's all of us, isn't it?" She groaned, rubbing her thrumming body against his rigid length through her thick clothing. "Whatever is making people act strangely is changing everyone. It's already changed me, look!"

Straightening up, Zoey looked Sam directly in the eye. They were standing nose to nose, and his puzzled expression cleared as understanding dawned on him.

"Holy crap, you're as tall as me!" Sam looked down at her feet and found no high heel or platform sole to account for the extra lift. Only plain old sneakers. "How... when?"

"It's not just my height, either." The once-diminutive brunette reluctantly took a step back and unzipped her cum-soaked hoodie. "There's more I want to show you."

Rapidly shedding her excess attire, Zoey peeled back her many layers like an onion until she kicked off her long skirts and woolen leggings, standing before him in naught but her plain cotton underwear.

The hot rush of shame and embarrassment dusted her cheeks, sparking fresh arousal in her timid core. Zoey gasped and shivered, nipples turning into diamond points as the warm air caressed her exposed flesh.

...flesh that was firm, toned, and flat where there had been rolls of flab and a couple of spare tires a few days before.

Sam's cock visibly lurched and thickened at the sight of her. A pearl of spunk drooped from the tip.

"For fucks sake, Zee, get dressed." He hissed in alarm. "You look amazing, like, crazy hot. I truly had no idea. Now, put your clothes back on before someone catches us like this."

Zoey supposed they did set quite the scene: Sam sporting some world-class wood with his pants crumpled around his ankles and herself shucked down to her unmentionables, alone together in the claustrophobic commode.

"It's fine, we can hide in here..." She surged forward with all her new-found strength--bulldozing him back into the stall and down onto the toilet--where she straddled his lap, the door swinging closed behind them.

"Oof!"

"I'm sorry, Sam, really I am, but you don't understand," Zoey huffed, sitting on his naked thighs with that girthy pole sticking up between them like a lewd tent pole. "This wasn't me two days ago. I had a major muffin top, cellulite everywhere, and certainly not knockers like these!"

As if to demonstrate her point, she palmed her bra-clad breasts, squishing the two incredibly full, physics-defying spheres of tit-flesh under Sam's stubbly chin. He gazed down at them in stolid stupefaction.

"They used to be soft, sagging pillowcases. Now they're bouncing and jiggling weightlessly all day long as though they operate by anime logic. I've had to go up four cup sizes, and my bra still doesn't fit properly!"

"Shit, Zee, I don't know--"

"Then there's my hair," Zoey moaned huskily, gyrating her smooth hips and grinding her puffy mound against the steely base of his cock through her damp panties. "It's usually a greasy, unmanageable rat nest of snares and snags. Not anymore. I woke up this morning with a salon-perfect bedhead of silky chocolate curls. I swear it's grown over half a foot in length, too.

"I'm taller--you've noticed that much--and much fitter. I took the stairs instead of the elevator today; walking up five flights should have left me winded. But I ran them instead and didn't break a sweat..."

Sam's strong hands clamped down on her trim waist, probably in an attempt to slow the breakneck pace she was setting and igniting a short struggle for control. New muscles flexed on both their wrestling bodies, but Zoey triumphed by means of arching her back and smothering his sweaty face in her cushiony cleavage.

"Hnnnnh!"

"Most of all, I'm just horny, Sam. Like, all the time!" She whimpered, pulling aside the crotch of her panties so she could smear her drenched lower lips against his twitching turgidity. "Hot and wet and burning up, no matter what I do. I've been playing with myself non-stop, fingering my naughty slit in secret. Getting off like a jackrabbit, but it's never enough."

Grabbing his shaft for support, Zoey rolled her muscular hips, crushing Sam back into the cistern with her huge chest as she hunched forward in convulsive pleasure.

"But you've got the same problem, right Sam?" She panted, angling his fat crown into the hood of her buzzing clit with a shuddering gasp. "Trapped in here alone, trying to scratch an itch that won't go away. We should... oooh~ help each other out."

Sam tried to speak buried deep in her overflowing bosom, or maybe he was worrying her bra with his teeth like a rabid dog. His head was certainly thrashing about down there, motorboating and mauling her sensitive melons as she ground against his meaty manhood.

"Mmmmff!!" His hands were slapping at her squeezing thighs and thick butt in a desperate drum beat.

" I know, Sam, I know. I want to feel you inside me, too. Let you spread my... aaaah~ insides wide and fill me to bursting with this big, beautiful monster," Zoey quaked at the thought, fogged-up glasses slipping down her nose as she approached her zenith. "But I can't... I'm still a virgin. Not that I don't want to, because I really, really do... hyaa~! Just not here... not in a place like this."

That moment was supposed to be special. A precious memory. Not a dirty hookup in a smelly bathroom or half-drunk fumblings in the backseat of a car on prom night. Not that anyone had invited Zoey to prom in her senior year.

That memory still stung more than a little.

She was a sexual creature, like almost every animal on the planet. Socially inept and overweight until recently, sure, but an extremely sexual creature all the same. Zoey would have rocked some poor teenage schlub's world given the chance and a heavy dose of liquid courage.

Just look at her now, taking the lead and fulfilling one of her darkest fantasies with a man she admired...

"Oh gawd! Yes, Sam, fuck--YES!"

Her pussy juiced, frothing and foaming as her entire body seized up in an ecstatic paroxysm of carnal rapture. Zoey clung to Sam like a life preserver as her soul was flung into a storm-racked ocean of crashing euphoric waves and mind-numbing bliss.

It was as though she had been struck by a bolt of heaven-sent lightning, electrifying every atom of her being and vaporizing all her petty worries and fears, leaving only the purest form of her innermost self quivering in joyous rhapsodies atop a stiff prick.

Powerful hands gripped her boneless shoulders and jerked her backward as Sam surfaced from the depths of her suffocating tits.

"Gah!" He coughed and dragged in lungfuls of the humid air. "Shit, Zee, you nearly suffocated me! Since when are you so goddamn strong?"

Zoey could only giggle in response. She felt light as a feather. Adrift on a golden tide of afterglow and drunk on sordid satisfaction. Sam's rock-hard cock jumped in her slackening grasp, slick with her splashed juices and his oozing precum.

"Sorry, Sam." She tittered dreamily; her thought centers were awash with endorphins and feel-good chemicals. "You really knocked me for six. A big, BIG cummy, ya know? I'll take care of your big boy in just a sec."

"We really shouldn't--" Sam's dithering turned into a helpless groan when she slid sinuously down his front to kneel on the tangerine tiles with her bra-clad whoppers resting atop his muscular thighs. "Oh shit, they're so fucking soft..."

"Mhmm," Zoey hummed happily, snuggling in between his spread knees to lay a gentle kiss on his angry tip. Her puckered lips tasted like their mingled sexes. "I've never done anything like this before, but you look pretty lubed up. Should be fine."

"What--Oh!"

Her bountiful breasts spilled over her palms as she hoisted them up to position her burgeoning underboob over Sam's bulbous crown, then let gravity take its inevitable course. Though he was large, Zoey's expanded endowments easily encompassed his entire enormity, wrapped tight around it by her white cotton bra as she glided them down to press against his groin.

She could feel his pulse hammering against her sternum. The solid slab of manmeat thrusting up towards her sharp clavicles and angular jawline where it was couched in her cock-stuffed cleavage, ready to deliver a heavy-weight jab to her delicate chin.

A trickle of saliva ran from the corner of Zoey's plump lips in erotic anticipation, dripping into the valley of her tits and further greasing those slippery slopes.

"Do you like this, Sam? Are you enjoying my huge, bouncy boobies wedged around your massive dick?" She cooed sweetly, staring pure lust up at him through crooked glasses and stray strands of shiny chocolate hair. "I think you do. Your giant cock feels so perfect, nestled between my creamy jugs. I'm totally gonna cum again when you plant a hot load deep between my fat titties."

"Christ, where did you learn to talk like that?" Sinewy muscles and tendons stood out starkly in Sam's neck as Zoey eased back her shoulders and began to juggle her firm breasts around his throbbing shaft. "Why do you know how to do any of this, Zee?"

"From porn, of course." She moaned. He was twitching erratically within her cavernous clutches, and short spurts of his warm seed bathed her sensitive skin. "I watch hours of naughty videos every night. All by myself in my tiny apartment, jilling myself silly or riding a pillow until I'm exhausted enough to pass out. I've got such a naughty little pussy, Sam. It's never satisfied and only gotten worse over the last few days."

"Oh, gawd... oh, FUCK! Don't stop..."

Zoey had no intention of stopping. It felt right to help out a friend like this. It felt so good to please such a kind, compassionate man with her honkin' new hooters. Most of all, his gigantic dick felt incredible, jacked between her tingling titflesh, growing longer and harder as the tempo and excitement built.

"I don't own any toys, can you believe that? Not one dildo or vibrator. Way too scary. What if a visitor found it?" The only house guests she ever entertained were her parents, but that fact only reinforced the point. "So I end up rubbing my naughty snatch on anything at hand.

"The edge of my bedframe has a particular spot I've sanded and polished, especially smooth to grind myself against while I watch sexy filth on the internet. I'm secretly a dirty slut who can't help from getting off any way I can."

"D-Dirty slut? No, Zee, you're not--"

"But I am, Sam, even more so now. But I think that's okay," Zoey was bopping in place, furiously jerking him off with her hefty melons as girly nectar spilled down the insides of her powerful thighs. "Like, maybe I needed this push? To find a big, strong man who I could trust not to judge me. A kindred spirit like you, Sam. I guess I'm alright with being a dirty slut if it's for you. Does that makes sense?"

"My dirty slut? H-holy shit... fuck!"

Sam was definitely growing now as they both raced along the knife edge of boiling arousal. His tempestuous tip emerged from her thick, jouncing cleavage, sparkling wetly and weaving under Zoey's nose like a mythical sea serpent disturbed from the ocean's murky depths.

The once-nerdy brunette licked her plumped-up lips as she eyed it with ravenous fascination. Sticky globs of translucent white bubbled out of it, puddling in the cleft of her slick, bouncing breasts and soaking into the cups of her overtaxed bra.

There was that scent again. Salty, slightly sour, and utterly delicious.

Zoey's moist tongue lashed out, running up the ticklish underside and gathering up his creamy spend, relishing the uniquely intoxicating flavor as it inundated her tastebuds. Flashing starbursts dazzled her vision as she tipped her head back to swallow, then hesitated...

"Wait... doeth thith count ath vegan?" She burbled through her gooey mouthful.

"YEEESSS!!" Sam roared, grabbing great fistfuls of her silken hair and cramming her face back down onto his cockhead to explode into the back of her constricting throat. "Fuck yeah, it does!"

Zoey couldn't say much with her gob full of fountaining cock, but a devilish smirk tugged at the corners of her suckling lips as she gulped down her man's substantial load.

She was cumming right along with him, just as she had predicted.

It was as though a deeply buried trigger had been unearthed in her sex-obsessed psyche. A big red button that had "Orgasm For Your Man" stenciled on it in a bold font. It hardly mattered that her hands were nowhere near her squirting, virgin pussy. Simply feeling Sam's masculine juices flood her tonsils and pour down her esophagus set off a blazing supernova climax, besides which all others seemed dull.

His hips were bucking off the toilet seat as he locked her head in place. Erratically thrusting up through her squished-together boobage and into her vacuuming mouth. Sam's seed was thick, dense, and difficult to swallow as it continued to blast out of him, but she choked it down with enthusiasm.

"Mmmmm~..."

The taste was delectable and immediately filled a craving in her toned, six-pack tummy that was previously earmarked for comfort food and dairy-free chocolate. The clawing hunger that had plagued Zoey all week finally subsided as her core vibrated like a struck tuning fork, and her messy cunt gushed in gratification.

"Ooh, Zee, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Sam panted, eventually loosening his hold on her hair and slumping backward. "I can't tell you how much better that made me feel."

His cock was still awfully erect, knocking at her windpipe, so Zoey suckled at it a while longer to ensure she didn't miss a drop of his scrumptious spunk. Once it was apparent he was milked dry, she slurped her way up to his prodigious tip and broke the seal with a lip-smacking pop!

"Hmmm, so glad you liked it, Sam." She giggled, wiping spittle off her chin with the back of one hand. "Gosh, who knew you were packing a total monster down here?"

"That's news to me too, which is worrying."

He sounded troubled. Concerned. Even as he extended a weary hand to gently pat her on the head. A fond gesture, though one most folks might reserve for a family pet.

Zoey preened adorably under his fumbling touch.

Then she put her small hands and large tits back to good use, stroking and stoking that glorious, mouth-watering goliath back up to full steam as she stared impishly over the rim of her crooked glasses.

"One more? We'll both feel a lot better after one more cum, right? Maybe this time you can call me your dirty little slut? Please, Sam, I yearn to hear you say it so badly..."

Sam growled, and his dauntless dick spasmed in Zoey's pumping grasp as an errant spurt of fresh precum splattered against her prescription lenses.

"Alright. Just one more, then it's back to work, you dirty little slut."

Zoey smiled and blew him a coy kiss before she dove down for a sloppy second helping.

________________

Claire snapped her hand mirror shut and smacked her lips to even the applied shade of wild rose lipstick before it dried.

Spinning lazily in her office chair, she considered the stacks of manila folders clogging her inbox and the complicated spreadsheet swimming with unintelligible numbers on her screen.

It all looked like a bunch of tedious busywork foisted on her by a bunch of lazy losers who should be doing it themselves.

Sorry, she meant "Clients" ...bleh!

That was just inane corporate speak for the whiny, know-nothing, findom simps who begged her to tie the tax system up in knots so they could jack off over the rebate cheques she scored them at the end of the financial year.

Pathetic.

It all seemed so boring and didn't appeal to Claire at all right now. The humdrum columns and figures seemed to have taken over her life at some point and leeched all the zest out of living. Her days were dominated by tax deductions, purchasing receipts, and bank balances.

When had she become a total fucking snoozefest of a person? Small wonder she was perennially single as her thirties loomed in the not-too-distant future.

The last time she had gone on a date was over a year ago now. Dale... Dan... whatever his name was, had talked a lot about valuing fitness between side-eyeing her thicker curves and openly flirting with the younger, thinner waitress.

Claire had ordered the carbonara as a form of silent rebellion.

Available men her age were either chauvinistic pigs, overburdened with personal baggage, or had laughably unrealistic standards that kept them on the market well past the proper time to settle down.

Had she simply given up after that regrettable dinner? Was that it?

It couldn't be. Claire had woken up this morning feeling like a million bucks. The strange fever possessing her the last few days hadn't broken exactly, more like settled into a manageable simmer.

She was still running hot and terribly hungry--usually a red flag for her lackluster attempts at weight management--but when she had checked herself out in the bedroom mirror, the reflection staring back had lost a few pounds.

The bathroom scales confirmed it.

Her thighs were less thunderous, her pudgy belly visibly firmer, and the beginnings of time's downward march in her generous chest had miraculously shored up overnight. Parts of her sedentary body were looking slimmer. Not toned, by any means, but certainly more... tuned up.