Tiny Tit Dreams

Chapter One

Brenda was his childhood sweetheart. Mike had known her since she was an innocent 13 year-old, but she'd made him wait until she was 18 to fuck her sweet pussy. He loved her bubbly personality and her enthusiasm about his interests and career goals. She was perfect for him in almost every way except for two big problems: her breasts. She was a 38D, and unlike some guys who would have done almost anything to slide their lubed cock back and forth in between those giant hooters and suck on those grape-sized nipples of hers, it turned Mike off, big time. Lying on their bed in her black bra and panties, her huge breasts made her look like a stripper or a sleazy pole dancer. Her face was okay, but her boobs were anything but.

Growing up, his father had always warned him that big breasted women were lazy in bed and expected to be worshipped, adored, and treated like queens, simply because of their huge jugs.

"Mike, stay away from broads with big knockers. They're trouble. The tiny, small- breasted women are the only ones worth marrying. That's because they always work harder in bed to please their man due to their low self-esteem about their tits. The babes with big boobs think you owe them the world, they expect you to bow down and kiss their ass. Not to mention the fact that every guy within an inch of her is gonna hit on her. Before I married your mom, I used to date one of those ungrateful big boobie chicks and all she did was lay there while I fucked her. I dumped her sorry ass and married a nice 32AAA. I've been a happy man for the past 20 years. Here's the deal, Mike. These big breasted women think they're entitled to have power and control over men. Entitlement, Mike. That's what it's all about for them. Never forget that."

His father's words of advice echoed in his head. Entitled. Entitlement. Yeah. That's what had always bothered him in the back of his mind about Brenda. She was sweet, but there was a certain feeling that she was entitled to the best of everything, whether it was money or a big house or the most expensive clothes and vacations, just because of her big tickets. When they were in school, guys would stare at her with salivating grins. It always bugged Mike, but he trusted her. He knew she wouldn't cheat on him, and that she did truly love him, but society was rewarding her simply for having large breasts. That wasn't right.

As much as he admired Hefner and Playboy, he had never been a fan of the gigantic mammary glands that Hef always celebrated in his "pin-ups" and centerfolds. He never did understand that obsession. It looked whorish and artificial. The problem was that Brenda was perfect for him in every other way. He wasn't going to dump her just because her boobs were too big. He wanted to marry her and planned to propose to his sweetheart in a few days. She was good for him in many ways. Her breasts were just too damned big. She really didn't seem to be quite the selfish, self-centered goddess type his dad warned him about. .Still...........he wondered if it could ever work out between them.

It pained him to admit that when they made love, he actually felt nauseated. The very sight of her huge tits reminded him of the worst porn videos he'd ever seen.

"Oh baby, fuck my tits, c'mon babe, I want it, let me fuck your cock with my boobies."

She naturally thought her sexy remarks would be a dream come true for any man. Her entire life she'd been told that a "big set" was the ultimate in sexual satisfaction and excitement for all men. Entitlement.

He always made an excuse not to slide his cock between her huge jiggling breasts, even when she begged him to do it, and he knew she'd eventually figure out that her tits were turning him off. Whenever she was on top, her dangling monster boobs practically smothered him. It was almost more than he could stand.

She didn't know that he spent hours on the Net, downloading what he considered to be the epitome of female beauty: artistic photos and pictorials of small breasted, flat-chested females. He kept this a secret from her and hid his surfing activities. In fact, over the years he'd amassed literally thousands of photos of tiny titty girls and models, in various stages of undress. Some were completely nude, others were clothed in high fashion outfits showing off their stunning flatness in various exotic and erotic designs.

He loved the youthful, innocent look of these pictures. Not all of the photos were of young women. Older, sophisticated women with small boobs were equally hot and exciting as he sat and stroked his cock to their images. It really didn't matter what age they were - just as long as their tits were small, sweet and kissable. He loved breasts that looked like pale, porcelain Hershey's kisses. He considered himself a connoisseur of small breasts, in all their many forms.

Mike wasn't stupid; he knew how society viewed his obsession with small boobs - labeling it a "fetish" or worse. Frankly, he wasn't interested in what society thought, but he was still worried about Brenda's opinion, so he made sure to hide his secret photo collection. He hated keeping it from her, but he had no choice. If Brenda knew the extent of his fantasies, she'd never marry him. He loved looking at his favorite photo - a demure blonde with ultra small, tiny pink-hued tits, perfectly formed pale pink areolas, very small erect nipples pointing sharply at the camera lens, begging to be sucked. She wore a hot pink halter top shoved down around her incredibly thin waist. Her matching pink string bikini panties barely covered her small pussy mound. It was hard to believe anything that beautiful existed in this world. Her vixenish, teasing facial expression matched her miniature, perfect breasts perfectly.

He'd slowly strip down to his underwear and sit in the living room, relaxing on the couch while jacking off to the picture. Why couldn't Brenda's body look like this dream girl? He wanted those sweet little breasts so bad while staring at the photo, he could almost taste them in his mouth, like soft vanilla ice cream, slowly melting. If only he could transplant them from the photo and onto Brenda, he'd have the perfect woman. He could feel the pressure building in his balls as he fantasized being with this fairy-like creature who looked almost like Tinkerbell as he masturbated and sprayed all over those innocent pink tits, watching in his mind as his cum trickled between the slight cleft between her exquisite breasts.

The girl in the photo didn't have any cleavage, only a small valley, the slightest dip in between her tiny breasts. The camera captured this perfect area of her body with the most erotic shadows. Her photo never failed to get him hot and bring on a fantastic, explosive cum that made his head spin. Whenever he saw photos of big-breasted women on the Net, he instantly closed the picture without hesitation. Brenda would be sickened if she knew the truth.

Mike had another, separate photo collection which was darker, more evil. He labeled this file "Entitled" on his computer. That word continued to rattle around in his brain. He hated bitches who thought they were entitled to his time, his money, his cock, his love or anything else of his simply because of their large breasts. He had a nasty underground BDSM series of photos that he stared at whenever he wanted to vent his rage against these busty babes. His favorite was of a naked female with a rope tightly bound around both of her gigantic boobs until they turned purple and looked like two bowling balls, ready to pop right off her chest. Her face was twisted in pain as the ropes cut into her flesh. Her breasts were obscenely swollen from the rope's pressure, like massive balloons.

He wondered how the model (if that's what she was, he liked to think perhaps she was an actual victim in a dungeon) could withstand such torture. But it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he greatly enjoyed seeing a big breasted female bitch in pain, being punished for her "entitlement" goddess behavior. They all needed to be taught a lesson and his photo collection was a good punishment.

Sex with Brenda would be perfect if only......if only.....she looked like the little Tinkerbell of his dreams. How could their relationship survive if he couldn't stand her breasts? There was a solution, but it would be radical. After much soul searching and guilty feelings , he realized that the only way he could go through with their marriage was to ask - no- DEMAND - that Brenda have a breast reduction operation. If she refused, that would prove that she didn't love him or understand his needs. If she wanted a life with him, she'd agree to this procedure. He chuckled at the oddness of the situation. His wife-to-be had breasts that easily would have earned her the title of "Playmate of the Month", and yet she was being asked to reduce them to AAA size to please her husband-to-be. Life certainly was filled with strange curves and bends in the road, wasn't it?

That night, Brenda got ready for bed and slipped in beside him, snuggling against his back with her huge mounds that felt like gigantic boulders. How he longed for the soft, tiny, unimposing little buds he had downloaded in his secret photo collection. He felt compassion and longing for those lovely women. He silently moved away from her to the other side of the bed. He noticed she was wearing a lacy, lavender push up bra that further emphasized her cleavage and massive, stripper size. That same bra on one of his small titty dream girls would have been hotter than hell. On Brenda it simply looked sleazy and whorish.

He wanted to say something to her, to be honest, but the words stuck in his throat. Again, she begged him to fuck her tits. She slyly removed her lavender bra, her massive breasts suddenly free and ready for action. As she did , he could feel his poor cock wilting and withering away to nothing. Images of his dream girls danced through his mind.

"Babe, I gotta get up early tomorrow for work. We can fool around tomorrow night , okay?"

She was disappointed but seemed to understand. He rolled over and fell asleep rapidly, blocking out his fears and unhappiness.

The next morning, his continued to think about Brenda and her personality. He had to admit that she had a tendency to flirt, especially at parties and clubs when they were out together as a couple. She always wore the tightest, most low-cut and revealing blouses in her wardrobe. Why? She didn't have to emphasize her bod like that. Once when he'd asked her to wear something a little looser, she laughed and said , "Don't be such a jealous prude." Entitlement. Whore behavior, fucking whore! Damn, his father had been so right.

He was suddenly jolted from these thoughts by Brenda's voice yelling from their computer room.

"Mike, what the hell is this?"

Oh fuck. He'd been so tired and distracted last night, he'd forgotten to close down his computer screen and accidentally left one of his tiny titty photos open. Holy shit. He hoped it wasn't one of the more graphic pictures in his collection. He ran into the office, and there it was, the vixenish blonde with the halter top pushed down to her waist, his favorite.

"So, is this what you do when I'm gone? Download crap like this? You're disgusting Mike. I thought we had a good thing going. In case you hadn't noticed, I have a fantastic body. Every guy who sees me undresses me with his eyes. But you'd rather look at skinny, undeveloped, flat-chested Internet sluts than make love to a real woman like me. What's the matter with you?"

At that moment, the rope image from the BDSM website burst into his mind, his own hands squeezing, squeezing her big boobs with the rope until they burst. He could barely restrain himself, but rather than start a sexual World War III, he apologized just to shut her up.

"Hey, Brenda, I'm sorry, my bad. Really. I was just fooling around last night, bored out of my skull. I'm a guy, guys are shitheads, you know that, right? We're all depraved, low-life assholes. What do you expect? It's the nature of the beast."

She seemed quite pleased that he had admitted that men were, indeed, shitheads. She liked hearing her version of the truth from him. It meant he was well on his way to being pussy whipped by her big-boobed self. Her "entitled" self.

"Well, as long as you get rid of this crap immediately and promise never to look at this garbage again, I forgive you."

Kiss kiss. Right, anything you say Brenda. .

Before he left for work that morning, he was so fucking pissed off, thinking about this bitch whore big boob attitude, that he made up his mind, no matter what, to call Molly, a girl he'd spotted at work.

Molly was 5 foot 6, weighed about 105 lbs, and had the tiniest, most petite body he'd ever seen. She worked in the stockroom as a clerk, and he figured she was about 19. She was far prettier than Brenda, who attracted men with her bosom rather than any particularly stunning facial features. Typical of the big tit broads. Many had quite average faces, but hey, who was looking at their face, right? But Molly was stunning, with huge brown eyes, long lashes and a sensuous mouth. Over the years, Mike had gotten very good at estimating breast size under a woman's clothes.

He could easily see that nestled under her blouse was the cutest, perkiest little pair of tits in the universe. Whenever he looked at her, he wanted to rip her clothes off with his teeth, and always had to hide his bulging cock whenever he was in her presence. The mere thought of ravishing and sucking those small little nubs of hers was more than he could handle. Brenda wasn't his wife yet, so technically Mike was still a single guy and he intended to show "Miss Entitled" who was boss by seducing Molly.

Molly was extremely shy which turned him on even more. The mystery and the challenge of locking his lips on those luscious tiny tits drove him wild. He knew instinctively that her shyness was due to her small chest. He didn't feel sorry for her exactly, but he did feel compassion for her. He knew that probably all her life, from junior high on, she'd never gotten the same attention as larger breasted women. He wanted to prove to her that not all men wanted big boobs, and that under the tender caresses of his probing, expert tongue, her beautiful breasts would blossom like tropical flowers. She'd probably never had a man lick and tongue her wonderful little tits or really make her feel like a womanly woman. He wanted to make her cum just from the hot, devouring attentions he'd give to her nips for hours on end.

Even though she was shy, it didn't take long to make their sneaky arrangements to hook up after work. Apparently she'd noticed him looking at her, although this was a new experience for her, being a flat-chested young girl. She had to be somewhat coaxed and convinced that Mike was really interested.

"Molly, I know why you're quiet and shy. I've been watching you, and I think you're gorgeous and hot. I want you to feel good about yourself and I'm going to show you tonight just how pretty and exciting you really are. Let me kiss you all over, and especially those enticing little tits of yours."

She lowered her eyes to her chest, nodding her head slowly, silently acknowledging the reason for her personality problems. But as she did so, Mike saw her sweet little nipples harden with excitement, poking through the thin cloth of her pink gossamer blouse that flowed like a gypsy queen. She was turned on and they both knew it. Molly liked to wear fluttering, fairy-like outfits, almost a throwback to the hippie era. She should have had wings like a hummingbird. Brenda, on the other hand, preferred tight, cocktail waitress get-ups that hugged every bosomy curve. Instead of dealing with that scene, tonight he would smother Molly's breasts with kisses.

He pulled her close and it felt wonderful not to be distracted by Brenda's over sized grapefruit boulders pressing into him. Molly's soft, gentle mounds were so inviting and innocent. ____________________________________

Chapter Two

Mike and Molly drove out to a deserted area on the edge of town. He couldn't afford to get a room at a motel because Brenda monitored every cent and where it went, so all they could do was share their bodies in his car. It would have to do. He needed his "tiny tit fix", like a drug. The pictures, the photos weren't enough anymore. He had to feel the real thing. He'd called Brenda and told her he was at a special seminar for work and would be home late.

Unfortunately for him, Brenda was not the stereotypical empty-headed stacked broad. She knew he was lying as soon as he gave her the phony seminar story. She followed Mike, watching as he parked in a dark lot behind a warehouse. She could see he had a chick with him. God damn! Fucking cheating bastard.

For the next two hours, she watched in disbelief as Mike incessantly, continuously, and relentlessly kissed and caressed this incredibly flat-chested young girl.

"Oh fuck Molly, don't ever be ashamed of your body. Let me kiss your nipples, give me your sweet tiny breasts baby. Look, your nipples are stiff and erect. That means you're turned on, you're likin what I'm doing. Oh god, you're so soft and innocent. I love your purity and beauty."

He cupped her breasts gently, periodically squeezing and lightly tickling and teasing her. From where she watched, Brenda could clearly see him manipulating and playing with this underdeveloped girl's breasts and body. She slipped a hand under her own blouse, wondering how Mike could possibly be so turned on by "Little Miss No Tits" when he had her pair available to him every night of the week. He must be insane or perverted.

Molly was moaning gently, holding her hummingbird breasts out for Mike to nibble, lick, and yes.......fuck. Brenda was shocked as she watched him unzip his jeans, take out his hard as a rock cock, and begin fucking this small girl's young, tender, pink breasts with utter abandon like a maniac. How many nights had she begged him to fuck her luscious tits, always accepting his flimsy excuses for not doing it. Burning hot tears of anger, revenge, pain, and shame filled her eyes and trickled down her face.

Mike continued his loving "assault" on Molly's tits until his cum suddenly splashed forth, running down her chest. She let out a small squeal of pleasure and threw her head back.

"Baby, you see what your lovely breasts did to me? I came. You made me cum all over you. You got my cock so damned hard. Just like the girls in the pictures I love to look at. But you're even more beautiful and enticing than they are because you're real. From now on, I want you to walk with your head held high, no more slouching or hiding yourself with a man in bed. Look down at yourself - you're gorgeous. "

Molly sighed and then made a wild admission to him.

"Mike.......I came. I had an orgasm. I came just from the hot things you did with my breasts. I had a cum in my clit from you loving on my tits! Oh god, I never knew I could cum just from having my breasts loved and fucked. I'll never forget you."

They kissed and parted, never to meet again. He didn't love Molly, but he felt good that her tender young breasts had gotten a pleasureable work out that extended all the way to her clit. He'd read in a sex magazine that women with small breasts are actually more sexually sensitive and better in bed than bigger breasted women. If Molly's breast/clit cum was any indication, that was certainly true. It was as if her lovely chest was connected to her clit by an invisible wire. He was happy that he wasn't the only one who had a good cum that night.

When Brenda got home, shaken and freaked out, she immediately went to the computer and found Mike's entire tiny tit photo collection. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of pictures, including the horrific BDSM collection, the infamous file labeled "Entitled", showing large breasted women with ropes tied painfully around their tits, electrodes and other deviant devices attached to their vulnerable nipples, faces etched with pain. She wanted to vomit. He hadn't done a very good job of hiding his most evil collection. She wondered what the hell "entitled" meant, anyway? Perhaps he wanted her to find it. He strolled in around midnight, not particularly caring anymore what she thought or said.