Like a Build-your-own Bimbo to Him

'Woah, like, I'm bigger.' she said. 'Why am I bigger?'

'Because you like it.' Vaughn said, fisting one huge breast and watching her moan in enjoyment through those puffy lips.

'See? You've always wanted huge breasts.' She nodded, already completely convinced.

'Of course.' she said. 'Love big boobies!'

Vaughn's hand slipped over her hips and grasped her ass tightly. She yipped. 'See?' He repeated. 'See how much you love having a fat ass?' Again, Paris agreed quickly.

'Fat ass!' she simply retorted happily.

Vaughn couldn't hold himself at bay any longer. He grasped her booty, pulling himself close to the curvy girl. She moaned as he contacted her, her bare tits pressing into his chest. He ran his hand up her back and grasped a fistful of her hair, manhandling her head into position as he leaned in to kiss her. Her warm, pillowy lips squashed over his, soft warmth engulfing his mouth messily, and he sighed as her supple wetness covered his own mouth. He worked them apart with his tongue and felt hers slipping readily into his mouth against his own, the underside of her tongue massaging into his, as tender and sensitive as he knew another penetration was about to feel. Vaughn's free hand slithered around her body, snaking downwards to cup her rump before moving forwards, turning and curving towards her heated entrance.

Paris moaned hotly into his mouth as his fingertips slipped over her pussy, feeing the wetness already soaking her enlarged outer labia. He used it to massage her lips, pushing towards her insides but not entering her, rubbing only over her outer edge. He sandwiched his middle finger between her lips and used his index and ring either side of her mound to squeeze them together, massaging her edges between his fingers. She rocked into him, her hips obeying only his rhythm as he worked her arousal to the forefront, never releasing her head as he maintained the kiss. He worked her until the animalistic desire surged up inside him, until he stopped smelling her hot breath and could only smell her sex, until his burning cock began to force his own hips into a slow pump that threatened to have him letting fly all over her hot little stomach.

Vaughn loved it here, lived for it. Riding the line between crazed and boyish, comfortably in the zone, no longer existing in the moment, but transcended into the event itself. It was what so many people talked about - to really enjoy sex, get out of your head and into the act itself. He found it intoxicating, exhilarating, invigorating - but it took a certain kind of woman to get him there. Paris, her body now improved to his liking and her brain dulled to match by his secret formula, had just become exactly that woman. Too horny and stupid to think, constantly needy, and built like a virgin boy's wet dream and then some. His hand crushed her teat again as he inhaled her, grunting into her flesh. Paris was putty in his embrace, needy and burning.

Paris yelped as her back slammed into the leather couch, her tits jouncing about. She giggled, her legs up in the air, her wet cunt exposed as the underpants fell from Vaughn's body. He descended over her, his hands roaming over her body, gripping her breasts in tight, mauling handholds, descending to cup her ass and haul her hips up into him. For a moment, he left himself just atop her, feeling her heat between his own legs as he touched her from head to toe. When finally it became too much to resist the soaked, hot hole below his cock, he forced her hips over his knees and pinioned her legs in the air, her feet over his shoulders. The leather held her sweaty back in place as he positioned himself just where he wanted to be, the scent of her sex driving him insane. She moaned even before he entered her, pleasured even just by his touch. When she felt his helmet parting her slick lips effortlessly, she practically screamed with bliss, yelping and gasping with every inhalation, practically hyperventilating on sex itself.

The Paris Vaughn had had sex with before had had a great body. Taut, tight, firm. She had taken nearly all of him before, but there had been something, something off about it - he couldn't quite tell what, but something had been wrong. Now, it was different. This time when Vaughn pushed himself inside Paris, it felt perfect, divine. Maybe it was the way she had puffed up, maybe she was wetter, or perhaps she was just more aroused than she had been before, and so had grown more spacious and stimulating - he couldn't know for sure. All he knew was that the feeling of her taut entrance siphoning him inside a deep, warm, soft cave drove his cock closer to erupting in that instant than he could have predicted. He grunted heavily as he felt her swallow him up, and he didn't stop pushing until his balls landed on her spread ass. He held himself there for a bit, feeling her pulsating around him in half step with her racing heartbeat, which he could feel thundering through her veins, even inside her cunt. Her heels naturally wrapped around his back, and he leaned on one powerful arm as the other slipped over her bosom, brushing her erect nipple.

'I think I love you.' he breathed as he stared down not at the wide-eyed, needy face, but at the plump lips, bulging tits and shapely body beneath him, truly his perfect woman from head to toe and inside to out.

'I, hehe, love you.' Paris repeated dumbly, smiling and 'o' facing at once. Whether or not she meant it, neither of them knew. Neither still cared.

Vaughn fucked Paris like he'd never fucked before. He rutted her hard, working himself so that his cock pushed both deep into her and up and down, stroking her insides. He needn't have bothered trying to pleasure her, even if that had been his intention; it took her eight thrusts to clench in orgasm around him, a record even for the quickest of men. Shaking and quivering as she came, Paris could only yelp and scream as pleasure overloaded her, making her eyes roll back and her muscles tense from head to toe. Encouraged towards his own orgasm by the sensation of her clamping pussy, Vaughn didn't let up, thrusting harder and harder, grunting into her as his ejaculation rose inside him.

At one point, he reached for her hands and slapped each to her chest with his free hand, watching her dumbly massage them around and around, squeezing her fingers into the generous flesh. It did the trick, and he clasped her hips tightly in his own as his thrusts accelerated, his building orgasm rising to a crescendo until with a thundering, rippling shudder, he crested the peak and unloaded into her. Paris' puffed pussy slapped wetly and fluids dripped and flicked everywhere as he sank himself hard into her and held there, his cock throbbing as heated cum filled her depths. Feeling it, the stupefied Paris moaned and shivered into a spontaneous orgasm of her own, tightening herself around his length and squeezing him close with her legs, his cum sending her easily over the edge again. Her hands just gripped her tits, and only when both of them dropped had into the slow, blissful decline on the other side, did she slump back into gasping, moaning pants beneath him.

When Vaughn finally relaxed, he lay atop his newfound partner for a while, enjoying the warmth and pace of her heart. Pounding below her massive, warm chest. Yet another reason why he preferred a bimbo, he thought as his head rested atop one glorious teat. They made for such a better pillow than some slim, shallow-chested toothpick, all bone and barely even there. This... This was heaven. This was a woman he could wrap himself up with and die happily, here and now.

Perhaps ten minutes later, Vaughn lifted himself off Paris and pulled his still semi-hard cock from her body, feeing her shudder and tighten around him even as he withdrew. Her pussy remained partly separated as he left her, a dark round hole still where he had occupied her. As he watched, a white puddle of mixed excretions welled up and began to pour slowly out of her body, running past her ass and towards his white leather upholstery. He just smiled at it and bent to pick up his pants, not bothering to clean himself up as he lifted them commando-style up around his waist. They could hang off his cock for all he cared - they only had to last until the shower. Maybe while he made coffee first, but that was it.

Turning, he looked at the plump, curvy woman on his couch. She smiled at him, her cute face innocent - literally fulfilling the phrase 'not a thought behind those eyes'. As she stared at him, she lifted one hand to her face, putting a finger to her lips. The plump pillows squashed beneath her touch, and the finger slipped inside her mouth - she seemed momentarily surprised by this, but quickly accepted it, idly chewing the tip and grinning childishly the whole time. He smiled back, glancing down her curvy, ballooned body. It was no bigger than the size in which some women naturally came, he thought. Big tits, big ass, sloping waist, thunderous thighs - all things some girls came blessed with from birth. But this one had the face and the brain, or what was left of it, and what was more, she had his successful bioengineered creation coursing through her veins to thank for it. She was far more than just a woman off the street - she was his personal idea of perfection, his trophy of success, and his wonderful, heavenly reward for both, all rolled up into one plump package of a woman. He just hoped she'd have enough intelligence left to know how to shower and clean, and perhaps cook some of his recipes. Lord knew she'd have a monstrous appetite for a few months until the effects normalised, and her body got used to the extra room, but then - having to cook for the bimbo-ified slut could hardly be seen as that much of a downside. He could probably teas the shit out of her by cooking naked, her body leaning over his counter, squashing as she yearned to see the body she felt so horny for all the time...

As he stared at her, his loose, bulging pants standing low off his waist, Paris began to rub herself. He laughed - after all, he had wanted a horny, dumb bimbo bitch. What did he expect when her only intended mood was 'needing cock'? She was fulfilling her new role perfectly - and his stiffening manhood agreed. Already he was beginning to imagine giving up on the shower and the coffee and plundering that slick, meaty body again.

Shrugging, knowing he would have plenty of time for just that soon enough, he laughed as he walked to his coffee machine, glancing over at the pair of legs, tits and a hand sliding over wet pussy that was the woman on his couch. A soft, squelching sound could be heard emanating from there, accompanied by soft, jerking gasps. By the time the coffee machine quietened, a fresh brew trickling into his mug, she had already made herself cum on his couch. It even sounded like a bit of a squirter.

Vaughn sighed deeply, smiled to himself. He could get oh so very used to this. His cock pulsed, that hint of a fresh erection once more dawning. Maybe he already was.

He glanced over his shoulder, and saw those wide, dark eyes gazing back at him past milky, meaty thighs.

The smile widened still, and he put the mug back down under the spout, reaching for his waistband.

The coffee could wait a few more minutes.

END