From jronn@tiac.net Sat Mar 15 11:51:50 1997
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From: jronn@tiac.net (Jackie)
Newsgroups: alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.pregnant,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.breast
Subject: New Story: "My Preggiful Days" Part 1c (end) <preg, lactation, m/f, f/f>
Date: Sat, 15 Mar 1997 16:51:50 GMT
Organization: Tiac Network
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Hi again,

I haven't seen many stories posted about a woman's sex life while she is
pregnant and *really* round and bloated, so I thought I'd write about my
last pregnancy. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have
enjoyed writing it. If you want to hear more, let me know.

Part 2 should be posted around the first week in May ~~ sorry, but I do
have other thing to do than just write, I also have more in-depth research
to do. <sigh>

Any comments; pats on the back, tummy, or elsewhere; and constructive
criticisms will be *gratefully* accepted. Flames will be totally ignored.
Thanks.

E-huggs,

Jackie
xoxox
an338903@cris.com

================================================

This fictional story contains graphic descriptions of  *all* types of vanilla
and kinky sexual acts between a *very* pregnant female and a non-related
male or female. If you:

     a) Are under 18 years old
     b) Are offended by any graphic actions
     c) Feel these are against your Community Standards
     d) Feel that a pregnant woman should stay home in a rocking chair,
          looking motherly

Please STOP reading and IMMEDIATELY LEAVE and CLOSE this 
file !!!!!

================================================

                My Preggifull Days

             Part 1c of 4 (version 1.0)

              (Copyright 1996, 1997)

           by Jackie (an338903@cris.com)

[continued from Part 1b]

My brain kept repeating, "Maybe, I shouldn't be doing this. What about
the babies ?? Maybe his awesome cock is too wide; too long," as I
momentarily swayed there completely impaled on the fat solid pole.

On my next solid downward plunge, another fat inch jammed inside,
spreading my loveFrom: jronn@tiac.net (Jackie)
Newsgroups: alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.pregnant,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.breast
Subject: New Story: "My Preggiful Days" Part 1c (end) <preg, lactation, m/f, f/f>
Date: Sat, 15 Mar 1997 16:51:50 GMT
Organization: Tiac Network
X-Newsreader: Forte Free Agent 1.0.82

Hi again,

I haven't seen many stories posted about a woman's sex life while she is
pregnant and *really* round and bloated, so I thought I'd write about my
last pregnancy. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have
enjoyed writing it. If you want to hear more, let me know.

Part 2 should be posted around the first week in May ~~ sorry, but I do
have other thing to do than just write, I also have more in-depth research
to do. <sigh>

Any comments; pats on the back, tummy, or elsewhere; and constructive
criticisms will be *gratefully* accepted. Flames will be totally ignored.
Thanks.

E-huggs,

Jackie
xoxox
an338903@cris.com

================================================

This fictional story contains graphic descriptions of  *all* types of vanilla
and kinky sexual acts between a *very* pregnant female and a non-related
male or female. If you:

     a) Are under 18 years old
     b) Are offended by any graphic actions
     c) Feel these are against your Community Standards
     d) Feel that a pregnant woman should stay home in a rocking chair,
          looking motherly

Please STOP reading and IMMEDIATELY LEAVE and CLOSE this 
file !!!!!

================================================

                My Preggifull Days

             Part 1c of 4 (version 1.0)

              (Copyright 1996, 1997)

           by Jackie (an338903@cris.com)

[continued from Part 1b]

My brain kept repeating, "Maybe, I shouldn't be doing this. What about
the babies ?? Maybe his awesome cock is too wide; too long," as I
momentarily swayed there completely impaled on the fat solid pole.

On my next solid downward plunge, another fat inch jammed inside,
spreading my love-canal almost to its maximum. This time, I couldn't
even "gasp." While my sweating bloated body was wracked with both pain
and pleasure, I wondered to myself, "If I can't handle his super-fat spear,
how were the babies going to get out ? Take a plane ?"

Two more gigantic kamikaze-type plunges and two-thirds of his beer-can-
sized cock was finally stuffed inside, filling and stretching my twitching
love-tunnel to the splitting point. Now, I truly felt like I was impaled on an
ever widening redwood stake. 

Finally, the initial pain had now turned to pure pleasure. Even with gallons
of my wet lubrication streaming down my love-tunnel, then dripping out, I
could vividly feel the rough friction from his fat purple crown scraping up
and down those spasming walls. Believe me, it felt magnificent, pushing
me closer and closer to an earth-shattering mind-boggling climax.

Up and down I went, more and more frenzied, my increasing passion
trying to coax this bloated sweating body into an ever quickening pace. I
could clearly hear the loud "squishing" along with my "gasp" every time
that fat spike so thoroughly invaded me, and the loud "sucking"on its
withdrawal, taking most of my taut love canal along with it. Those very
erotic sounds alone forced louder and louder guttural moans from the
gasping throat of my up-thrust head.

Even though Johnny had limited feelings in his legs, I was sure he could
feel the soft sensuous rubbing of my black stockings against his bare flesh
as I moved up and downtions at once ~~
my head was thrashing from side to side; my engorged jugs vigorously
flailing and jiggling; my bloated belly wobbling and bouncing; and my
pulsating puss spasming and gushing out gallons of my musky female
nectar. 

Johnny could surely feel my hot gooey juices gushing down that thick
still-inserted stake ~~ that firm "pussy-plug" had softened just a little since
his earth-shattering climax. My hot juice flowed among his curly black
hairs, then cascading over his large pulsating ball sack. I can hear him
softly moaning as my super-heated womanly fluid both soothed and
excited him, making those fat plums tingle and jerk.

Too quickly my wonderful climax was over. I sagged forward as far as my
bulging belly would allow. I would have loved to snuggle on Johnny's
chest, but there was absolutely no way. Johnny craned his neck up enough
to hotly kiss me on the lips. Even basking in the warm contentment of my
after-glow, his firm probing tongue and hot wet kisses still felt heavenly.
Many more would soon have had my bloated body swooning and my
pouting pussy juicing again.

I reluctantly broke his passionate kiss and pushed him away. With that fat
stake slowly wilting inside me in its latex home, I smiled down sexily
whispering, "Hold those hot thoughts for later, right now this beached
whale badly needs a little rest."

Johnny reached down and scooped up a little of my hot thick female nectar
mixed with my sweat. Slipping those two gooey fingers in his mouth, he
contently suckled on them for a couple minutes, broadly grinning. Then,
looking at me with still-lust-clouded eyes, he replied, "but you taste and
feel sooo good, my cute round preggy."

Finally rising up, I could see the broad wet stripe across the lap of
Johnny's pants made by my huge dripping thighs. "I wonder if he'll ever
invite another whopper of a whale to bounce up and down on him again," I
thought with a chuckle.

Switching to the bed, we quietly cuddled against each other, my bloated
body still feeling Johnny's hot tingling flesh. As Johnny gently caressed
my bloated belly from behind, my *only* thought was, "There is no way
you are getting away with giving me only *one* climax. I definitely want
and need *more*, many more like the last one !!" Those, though, are tales
for another time . . . . . 

                    * * * * * 

Even though I fully expected my ballooning breasts to attract guys,
surprisingly, women have wanted to play even more with them. That was
the case when I stopped in at Mom's Maternity Shop to get some larger
nursing bras. Here's what happened there:

Mom's Maternity Shop was a small store in a specialty plaza ~~ it wasn't
affiliated with any of those larger maternity chains, such as "mothertime"
"Dan Howard," or "Mothers Work." I had been visiting a girlfriend who
lived nearby and decided to stop to purchase some larger-size nursing bras. 

Although small, that shop seemed to contain any style of clothing a
pregnant woman could ever be looking for, from very sheer lingerie to
more formal cocktail dresses. I was very impressed with the selection, the
organization, and the prices for such a small store.

The majority of the store was strictly maternity clothes, but a "Nursing
Mother's" section occupied a whole front corner. There, the products
varied from "Leading Lady" and generic breast-feeding pads in round,
cute heart, and other shapes, and day and night thicknesses; to Evenflo and
Medela breast pumps with connections for one or both breasts, either
battery or electric; to colorful totes for carrying all the items needed for
both you and baby. There were also two racks of tops, jumpers, and
lingerie with those "hidden slits" to make nursing convenient but discreet.

(After my tryst with Maria, seeing all those breast-feeding products started
my mind wandering, creating an itch between my legs that would be hard
to quench, at least, in a public mall or store. My "creative" mind
envisioned those heart-shaped fluffy nursing pads sopping wet with warm
sweet mother's milk, so full that the slightest squeeze caused a river to run
out.)

(I thought about holding one, or maybe two or three, of those sopping wet
pads over my wide open mouth and just squeezing. I could almost taste
that warm sweet liquid cascading down into my mouth, then flowing down
my throat. That milk was warm now, not from her inner body heat, but
from her breast and nipple flesh that had been so firmly pressed and
pushed against that pad.) 

(I could even taste a little sweat, where those sweat droplets had run off
her ample bosom, absorbed by those thick pads. "Ummmm, a *real* river
would taste sooo good right now," I thought with my eyes glazing over.)

I abruptly forced my mind back to the present, but my wandering eyes
now landed on the array of breast pumps, with a large demonstration
poster hanging above proclaiming, "It's so Simple." 

(I began to envision I was kneeling in front of  that woman on the poster,
just watching.  Her creamy breasts looked super-engorged, so taut and
hard that even the least little touch would send warm milk squirting
everywhere. They must not have let her release any milk for at least a day
for those balloons to look that full. She would press that extra-large clear-
glass nipple shield over her long fat nipple, then turn on the suction. It
quickly became obvious why she needed the "extra-large" size to contain
her huge dark red nipple.)

(That poor straining, overburdened breast pump would whir and hum,
moan and groan, then finally succeed in releasing her warm sweet
mother's milk. I could vividly see its milky-whiteness swirl through the
clear-plastic tubes, first dripping, then gushing into a clear-plastic
collection/storage bag. While holding that clear-glass breast shield firmly
pressed over her nipple with one hand, her other hand squeezed that breast
from back to front, coaxing more and more milk to flow toward her nipple
and out through the pump.)

(I could vividly see me taking one of those full plastic nursing bags and
holding it high over my naked body, slowly letting the still-warm milk
drip and drizzle into my open mouth. I might even intentionally let some
overflow my mouth, running down my up-stretched neck.) 

(Next, my bloated twin mounds feel the sizzling warmth as it leaves its
trail of white, finally dripping from my hard fat reddish-brown nipples. If I
were sitting up, that hot stream would ooze down across my bloated belly,
slithering amongst my fiery-red curls, running along my pouting pussy
lips, finally making a puddle under my wet pouting puss.)

(If I felt adventurous, I might dip a curved finger into that mixed up
puddle. Raising a dab to my lips, I could taste the intermingled flavors of
that sweet mother's milk and my tangy female nectar. Talk about a "sweet
and sour" taste sensation !!)

(As my imaginary woman pauses, finally removing the glass breast shield
of  that *very* tired pump, her nipple appears so wet and grossly
elongated, drawn out so much further by that intense constant suction.
From both that suction and the release of all that milk, her reddish-brown
rubbery nipple and areola now look coned-shaped. Her skin can now
pucker slightly, no longer stretched so hard and taut from that intense
internal pressure. I also notice that nipple sparkling and glistening in the
bright light from its complete coating of motherly milk.)

Again, I have to jerk my thoughts back to the present, immediately
realizing that my skimpy panties have become sopping wet. I wonder if
there is a bathroom nearby to take care of my "itch," but first the new bras.

About two-thirds of the remainder of the store contained maternity clothes,
mostly casual, but ranging from those cute cuffed denim "shortalls" that
make you look like a denim beach-ball with legs; to jumpers, jump-suits,
and rompers; to blouses and dresses; to very elaborate formal cocktail
gowns. Obviously, fewer of the last ~~ how many pregnant women want
to be the center-piece of a cocktail party.

I decided to waddle a bee-line for the nursing bra displays. I grinned to
myself as I heard those sopping panties squish as I waddled.  Even in this
small store, there was a huge selection, with styles by Playtex, Goddess,
and Bravado.

Behind the only check-out desk were two older women, who I found out
later were the owners. I say "older," but I guessed one to be in her middle
to late thirties and the other to be in her late forties. (I can remember when
I thought that twenty-five was old !!) 

Even though I was wearing a now-tight, but comfortable style, 40-DDD
embroidered and cushioned underwire bra from J. C. Penney, I still
wondered if there might not be another style better suited for my ever
expanding balloons. It was confusing,. There seemed to be so many
different manufacturers and styles displayed, *and* I suspected that each
one fit a little differently. I slowly approached the checkout to ask them
about the best size and style of nursing bra for my growing and thrusting
bust.

The shorter one, whose name-tag said Victoria, definitely not Vicky, asked
how far along my pregnancy was, my current bust size, and how my
current bra fitted.  After each individual answer, she stared a little, maybe
sighed, pondered some more, then asked another question.

Victoria was dressed stylishly, yet ultra-conservatively. Her clothing very
much matched her name. She was wearing a plain white blouse with a
very high collar, buttoned up to her neck. Her gray skirt was tight, with
only a small opening at the bottom, more like a tube  ~~ the type where
you have to take midget-steps to walk.

This clothing style, in addition to her wide-rimmed brown glasses and her
long dirty-blond hair twirled up in a bun, made her look like the old
stereotypical librarian. I'm sure it wasn't intentional, *but* that was the
image "she" created in my mind. 

Soon, Victoria and the other owner began talking back and forth, finally
almost arguing. After what seemed like ten minutes, Victoria turned to me
saying, "We just can't decide which style and size would be best for you." 

Then Victoria continued, "Since today is very slow, why don't I take you
into the back where it is more private. It's always best to be properly fitted
during your third trimester. You can try on various nursing bras until we
find the most comfortable size and style."

That sounded great, as mine was really killing me, so I quickly said "Ok."
As we turned I added, "I really appreciate your help and attention."
Victoria only smiled in return as I followed her behind a pair of closed
curtains and into a small fitting room.

In the back, after the curtains were tightly closed, she asked me to
unbutton my maternity dress. Silly me, instead of wearing a maternity top
and panel-pants so only the top had to be unbuttoned, today, I wore a
"Vintage Blue" stone-washed denim maternity dress. It had an empire
waist and a full button front, also I liked the pretty feminine lace trim
around the collar and breast pocket. I thought that it would look a little
more dressier for my girl friend's house, but this now meant that I had to
unbutton it most of the way down. It also didn't help that my panties were
sopping wet.

Victoria, sensing my hesitation, soothingly said, "Don't be shy. I have
seen all types and sizes of breasts in my job. Yours are probably nothing I
haven't seen before."

I smiled to myself thinking about the size and shape of my huge balloons,
then began unbuttoning the front of my denim dress. I stopped about two-
thirds of the way down, hoping that my sopping panties would stay
covered, but allowing Victoria enough room to reach underneath.

Victoria stepped close to me and spread the upper part of my dress wide
exposing my bloated breasts and bra. She tried to reach around to check
the strap, her chubby tummy firmly pressing against my bulging belly, but
her arms were too short. Now-a-days, my bulging beachball always finds
some reason to get in the way.

Her warm tummy felt oh sooo good rubbing against my beachball and
belly-button stem as she struggled to reach around and check that evasive
strap. Suddenly, she stopped and stepped back saying, "I'm sorry, I just
can't reach it. You'll have to remove your dress so I can check it from the
back."

"Well," I thought, "it's now or never," as I finished unbuttoning my denim
dress the rest of the way. I slipped it off my shoulders, turned around and
bent over, placing it neatly folded on the nearby bench.

With Victoria behind me as I bent over, I was sure that she could vividly
see my sopping wet panty crotch, especially when it slipped up between
my wet pouting pussy lips, but there was nothing I could do. She'd find
out soon enough that my body was *very* turned-on when she saw my fat
erect nipples and puckered crinkled areola.

Bending back up, there I was, standing proud and wide in front of
Victoria, a complete stranger, in just my bra, panties, and hose. What a
sight I must have been ~~ a pair of white sneakers; my white (actually
"pearl") ribbed stockings extending almost to the top of my shaking
thighs; a white garter belt strapped around my huge pink beachball,
hooked above my sprouting belly-button, with those tabs straining down
to those stocking tops; my white Bali "vikini" panties that fully covered
my buns but were cut very low in the front so they hung below my bulging
belly; and finally, my white embroidered underwire nursing bra with those
ballooning breasts busting out at the top and sides.

"If it wasn't for my bloated wobbling pink beachball, sticking out almost
into tomorrow, all that white lacy lingerie would make me look like a
blushing bride," I thought, "though, not very innocent," as I patted my
bulging belly with both hands and chuckled.

Victoria turned me with my back towards her. While she investigated the
fit of my current nursing-bra strap, I could acutely feel her lingering warm
fingers and her hot breath against my shoulders and neck. Every place her
soft fingers touched became inflamed. This sent shivers down my spine,
causing my fat nipples to harden into bullets, and my pouting pussy to
begin blooming wider and wider. Since her chubby belly was pressed
against my buns, I was sure she could feel those tingles as they zipped
down my spine, heading directly for my wet heated pussy.

Victoria, though, *only* acted business-like. "You do need a size 42," she
stated, "It's correct to be on the outer set of hooks at this point in your
pregnancy, so after you give birth, you can use the same bra, just moving
to one of the inner sets as your girth decreases. This bra, though, is just too
tight and will get even tighter over the next month or so."

Although once, I thought I felt her moist hot lips brush my shoulder,
causing my chin to lift and my head to slightly angle backwards. "I must
be imaging this," was all I could think, "I am only here to purchase a
couple bras and Victoria is sooo business-like." Imagined or not, I felt my
turned-on body begin to respond to her subtle touches and caresses.

She begun reaching around with both hot sweaty palms, running them
along that over-stretched white elastic on both sides of my upper body.
Her finger tips pressed and kneaded the outer edges of those over-full
cups, making my ballooned flesh swell and bulge even further, straining to
escape, searching for a warm wet pair of lips. At my other end, that
naughty puss was oozing gooey nectar, some of those pearls of musky
female dew hanging from my curly red hairs.

As Victoria reached further around my bust, both her hard pebbly nipples
pressed into my bare back through both her bra and blouse. My back
became so sensitive to those super-hot tips, I thought I was going to be
branded, or at least left with two fat red welts.

Suddenly, Victoria turned me around by my bare shoulders. With
astonishing composure, she almost whispered in my ear, "Are those cups
*much* too tight ?" 

I though about replying, "Yes . . . . . . but *you* made them that way," but
didn't.

She continued, "The rule-of-thumb is that you should be able to easily slip
your whole hand between the top of your breast and the cup without it
being tight. This allows sufficient room for growth when your breasts
become fully engorged."

"Hmmmmm," I thought, "nobody ever told me that. Victoria seems to
know what she is talking about."

Before I gave a reasonable answer, she just stated, "Let me check. First,
I'll see if those cups are flexible enough." Her hot hands began rubbing
and squeezing both cups at once, seeming to do much more than just
checking the fit.

"Mmmmmm. Seems like there is sufficient flexibility here," stated
Victoria through half closed eyes, as she continued to fondle both
completely encased bulging balloons.

By then, her squeezes felt so wonderful that I closed my eyes also, softly
sighing. She must have taken those "sighs" as an "Ok to continue."
Immediately, she began to more vigorously rub both the sides and
underneath of first one almost-bursting cup, then the other, lighting fires
all the way down to my now super-heating pussy.

My breasts had expanded so much that both were now pushing out around
their nursing flaps. Victoria noticed this asking, "Are those nursing flaps
too tight ?" Again, not waiting for an answer, she immediately unhooked
my right flap, letting that bloated straining udder tumble into full view.

Victoria "gasped" when she saw that huge udder ~~ its ballooning
fullness; its skin almost stretched to the maximum; its dark blue veins
vividly showing through that thin pink skin. With her eyes smoldering
with desire, she stared at its long fat reddish-brown rubbery nipple for
what seemed like minutes. Finally, she tentatively reached out one hand,
gently stroking along its massive top, which had flopped down on my
protruding shelf of a stomach.

Stopping for a minute, she quizzically looked up at me, asking, "Where
did you get the tattoo ?"

My only breathless reply, "Later, pleeeeze, ask me again later !"

I was so turned on by then, that I just lifted that huge flopper up to her
parted lips. Without a sound, she latched on like a hungry babe, licking,
tweaking, and suckling. My body was responding more and more to her
wonderful attention. Maybe it was being pregnant that did it, but my body
had never responded like this to a guy's breast play before. 

After a couple minutes, I pushed Victoria away, having to put my finger in
her mouth to break the vacuum seal like I would have a baby. She began to
pout and softly whimpered ~~ like when a new toy has been taken away
from a young child.

Again like a child, her eyes lit up as I released the clasp on the other
nursing flap, and let that engorged breast tumble into view. Although she
stared for a minute at its long fat nipple, no prompting was necessary this
time as she sucked that nipple in, then hung on for dear life. Every once in
a while, she'd stop but still not let go, gazing at that other breast whose
nipple was still puckered and rubbery, glistening from the coating of her
warm wet saliva.

All this vigorous attention was quickly raising my poor body toward a
fantastic climax. With my nipples getting sore, I pushed Victoria away
letting one hand slip into my sopping wet panties. With only a moment of
quick rubbing, I was over the edge ~~ shuttering and jerking, then finally
slipping down into a nearby chair, my breasts still uncovered, glistening
and sparkling in the light.

When I opened my eyes, Victoria was standing over me with a satisfied
look on her face, her hand still up under her dress, caressing her pussy
through her panties. I think we both got what we wanted, and *needed*.

Later, Victoria confided in me that she was a confirmed lesbian who
simply "relished" seducing "straight" women. To her, a "pregnant-
woman" was the ultimate straight-woman since the baby growing in her
tummy was living proof that she usually regularly slept with a man or
men.

Up until this point, she had resisted seducing any of her pregnant 
customers. After watching me slowly waddle into the store, my huge belly
floating, bouncing and shifting from side to side as I waddled, and my
bloated hard-nippled breasts obscenely jiggling, she knew that she would
not be able to control her hunger any longer  ~~ *I* was the *one*.

While I was trying on a lacy black nursing bra, Victoria chirped in,
"*Now*, tell me where you got the tattoo."

"Well," I began, "I got it in the summer between my junior and senior
years of high school. I was kind-of wild then. Two girls friends and I went
down to San Francisco for the weekend while my parents were away."

"We all got a little, maybe a lot, bombed from too much wine and decided
that a small tattoo would be the greatest. It was crazy, but that was then.
Cheryl and Susan got theirs on their butts, but I decided to get mine on my
breast."

"I quickly ruled out "Semper Fi",  "I Love Mom", a curling snake, and a
fire-breathing dragon. Finally, while looking through the artist's designs, I
thought of the absolutely perfect one." 

"With the way guys used to try to paw my breasts, I thought that a  girl's
face with her long tongue sticking out giving a raspberry' was very
appropriate. I even has the tattoo artist draw all those little drops of spit
around that tongue. That way, if some guy tried to brush or grab my
breasts, I just had to pull my top down only a little and show him that face
sticking its tongue out."

"My way of giving back a little revenge. And it worked !! You should
have seen how many guys blushed, then got harassed by the other guys
about how I got back at them."

"Since I've gotten older, I have though about having it removed but with
the babies, and breast-feeding later, I've decided to wait a while before
having anything done about it."

"I thought it was kind-of  cute' when that breast began drooping, the girl's
face only got a little longer, *but* the tongue stretched *inches* as that
breast drooped toward my waist. At first that face had a 1 inch tongue,
now that tongue has stretched to 4 inches."

"That tongue now looks more like it belongs to a horse, a camel, or even a
frog, than a girl's face," I finish, blushing a little. 

"That reminds me," I started again, "A girlfriend once told me about a guy
who had his cock tattooed. When it was soft and resting, you could read
the word  SmAll', but when it got coaxed to its full long length, it read
 Smooth, Firm and Wonderful for You All'." We both giggled for a
couple minutes. 

"Kind-of like that tongue, except that mine will probably stay close to that
4 inch length forever," I added.

Victoria now pleads, "Let me see your tongue-tattoo again,
pleeeezzzzeee."

Instead of only lowering that cup's flap, I reached behind me and
unhooked my bra strap letting *both* bloated balloons now tumble free,
while I teasingly swayed my hugely bloated belly left and right. 

"See, that tongue can do tricks," I tease with a wide grin.

Then, I picked up my right balloon with one hand, while running the other
slowly down the full length of that outlandish design. "See how that
tongue has gotten sooo much longer," I almost whispered to Victoria as I
moved that bloated balloon even closer to her. "See . . . . . . . ," I
emphatically added.

Victoria first stared at the funny tattoo, then smiled and laughed softly.
Her eyes widened, then locked onto both long reddish-brown distended
nipples, through her lust clouded daze. Very soon, I was enjoying a repeat
performance of before.

Surprisingly, it *only* took two tries to find a proper-fitting larger-sized
bra. Finally three hours after I had originally entered, I left not only with
three bras that fit ~~ perfectly, but also with having made a new "close"
friend. I may go back there again when these bras get too tight ~~ Victoria
certainly gives excellent service !!

                     * * * * *

So as you can see, the bloated breasts of a pregnant woman are a definite
turn-on to both men and women. In one case, the man was initially
attracted by my swollen wobbling orbs but liked other parts better, while
the woman *only* wanted my breasts. 

[End of Part 1]



