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This story contains massive milk filled breasts and some bondage.
Quick Pauline misadventure. Enjoy!
*****
Pauline was home alone watching tv. Not like she ever felt judged around Conor, but she felt a lot more comfortable not wearing a bra without anybody around. The freckled little farmer could rest her super swollen milk tanks on either side of her lap, using the couch to carry most of her dairy globes. She still wore her giant milk pads, but the only other covering she had up top was a half buttoned flannel. Her fat ass stretched some accommodating jeans, almost sitting on the remote at her side.
Conor had gone out on a little adventure of his own, a quest to help a friend from out of town. It was a little iffy whether Conor was hoping to bang her or not, but as long as he was romantically faithful to herself, Pauline didn’t mind one bit. It did mean, however, that Pauline would need a different kind of scratching post to reach that itch between her thighs. It was hard to tell what kind of adventure she could get up to herself. Usually the universe would throw her into some sexual chaos. Not that she actively looked for men besides Conor, it just happened to be convenient at times when he wasn’t around. But like most days this would probably be a quiet evening.
Police sirens from town were slowly approaching her home. She walked up to the window out of boredom, very little else to do. From the window, she noticed a few police cars chasing a fancy cadillac. It was pretty plain, another day another crook she guessed, until the car broke off the road. The cadillac screeched to a halt, grinding over the road and sliding into Pauline’s poor summer grass.
“Damnit!” she cursed him. Why’d he have to mess up her lawn?
Then the man got out. He was big, an intimidating man dressed in black with a ski mask and his hands full. One arm carried a strange metal box while the other held some dark tool – a gun it seemed! Every moment made Pauline panic more and more. Now he’d run up to her door, just as the cops were reaching the farm.
“Open up!” the man’s gravelly voice boomed.
“Uh – no!”
Pauline ran to her rifle, hanging in the middle of her living room. She reached for it but recoiled at the sound of a gunshot. The criminal had shot her lock, busting through the door.
“Freeze!” he yelled.
Pauline held her hands up. It took some work with her heavy chest but she got back to her feet and looked to her trespasser. Even with the ski mask, she could tell he was staring at her breasts, a look of great confusion on his face.
“Freeze!” came voices from behind. Pauline recognized the officers who’d come to save her and felt a wave of relief wash over.
The man turned back and kicked the door shut. It didn’t stay closed, as the whole latch had been mangled by his bullet. He cursed at the men outside through the crack and threw the safe down. All the while his pistol was trained on Pauline.
“Alright, no sudden moves – here’s what you’re gonna do:”
***
There in her laundry room the two hid, Pauline bound and gagged by some rope and her own clothes. Inside the two sat, not sharing a word, occasionally staring at each other, trying to block out the constant sound of police sirens. More cars had come, Pauline guessed, as the sounds had picked up in volume.
“Mr. Roper!” a megaphone called to the house, “We have the house surrounded, please come out with your hands up! Failure to do so will require further action on our behalf and we don’t wanna hurt anybody, not even you! Please!”
Mr. Roper made no attempt to move outside. This was the second message the police had thrown his way and he was not interested in surrendering himself.
It did seem to stress him out though. The criminal slunk down the wall, face in his hands. He clutched the gun and its trigger with a dangerous amount of force, close to firing into the ceiling. After some sort of revelation, he got up, took in a deep sigh, and looked around Pauline’s house. He didn’t dare enter the living room out of fear he’d be shot or something, but it wasn’t as if there was much in the rooms available either. Nothing useful in the bathroom, a lot of useless junk in the bedroom, and Pauline’s extra large shirts didn’t seem like they’d be any extra help.
There he stood over Pauline. His eyes definitely glanced over her chest, but it looked like he was sizing her up rather than enjoying the view. She definitely wasn’t in modest dress, but he seemed to have a lot of other things on his mind. Mr. Roper then bent over, pointing the gun at her again.
“Listen, uh… whoever you is… I saw the name ‘Pauline’ around, that’s ya name huh?”
Pauline looked between Mr. Roper’s face and his gun. The only other body language she gave him were angry eyebrows.
“Ok fine, fuck you, you’re udders now, ya like that huh?”
She just rolled her eyes. Mr. Roper decided to put his gun on her dryer – it didn’t seem like he needed it to keep her in check, and she certainly wasn’t bahis firmaları taking him any more seriously with it. He looked around for a moment before taking his mask off.
“Sorry, just a little stressed, uh, Pauline. Real unkind to make fun a ya condition or whatever. I’m Saul.”
It wasn’t clear what Saul was expecting but Pauline just kept glaring at him.
“Look… I didn’t mean ta fuck up ya day. I’m not exactly in a good place either right now, ya feel me?”
Pauline scoffed through the gag.
“Ok shut up!” He stomped his foot and grabbed the gun again. “Y’know I don’t have to explain shit to you, ya bitchy hick! You wouldn’t understand anyways, you got ya farm here, big stupid checks comin your way, got enough stupd money to get ya big stupid implants-“
She shook her head ‘no’. Saul stopped and gave her a big smile.
“Ya kiddin me, right? Like hell, these don’t even look like implants, just them plastic fakes.”
He nudged her areola. Pauline shook her body to move away from his gun, protesting through her gag. He kept poking her with the weapon, chuckling at her discomfort.
“Hehehe… yeah no way girly, boobs don’t grow that big. Anyways-” Saul buried his face in his hands again and paced in a circle. “I’m pretty fucked. Shoulda never broke in, now I can’t go ta jail cuz they’ll nevah let me out.”
Pauline said something through her gag.
“Wha- oh, shut up. You gotta plan for me?”
She nodded her head ‘yes’.
“Alright, alright, love to here what my little captive has to say. ‘Turn myself in’ right? I ungag ya and ya tell me that I’m gonna punch ya, here me?”
No response.
Saul decided letting Pauline talk wouldn’t present any kind of danger to him, if anything he could talk to somebody besides himself in what many would call a moment of weakness. He undid the gag and backed up, waiting. Pauline stretched her jaw a little before talking.
“Hi.” she said.
“Hi to you too.” he replied.
“Ok, first of all, fuck you for all this, like honestly-“
“I’M SORRY!” Saul shouted. A look of pain and anger stretched across his face. “What was I supposed to do?! I’m on the run, cops on me-“
“Why were they on you, huh? That metal box?” she nodded to his strange container. It looked a lot like a safe, but much more crude.
“Yeah, that fuckin metal box. It’s money I was owed and now it’s been restored but the guy who owed me fuckin called the cops and now I’m here.
“What’s that all about?”
“Nonna ya damn business, shrimp bitch. That why ya wear this things around, just chillin on ya couch, feelin less small?”
“Ok, the second thing – mostly mother nature right here. These things are real and I don’t care what you think cuz I don’t care to prove it.”
“Oh I bet I could, but you enjoy your little fetish there.”
Saul tapped her nipple with his foot. Pauline turned away again, but her massive tits were too big to really move them any significant distance. Saul noticed that the nipple he’d toyed with seemed a bit larger now. He brushed it off as his imagination, but it certainly surprised him.
“But anyways, you said you had a fuckin plan?”
“Yeah, last point – just turn yourself in.”
“You!-” Saul raised his fist, “I said I’d hit you if ya said that!”
“Yeah, sure add some more charges on top of everything else you’ve done. You’re surrounded, and I know these cops. – they’re ruthless, especially when they have a hostage to save. You might have power over me right now, but you’re not gettin out of this house a free man.”
Saul lowered his shaking hand, frustrated rage across his masked face. Finally Saul took his mask off and threw it on the ground. He even threw his gun at the ground before jamming a finger right into Pauline’s face.
“Man fuck you. Fuck. You!”
Saul pounded on the walls and her dryer and any solid surface he could find in the laundry room. But he didn’t hit Pauline, yet at least, he was still on the fence between actually giving up and actually trying to shoot his way out. That decision was pretty balanced, but he leaned towards the option that involved killing Pauline. If he at least got to shoot her and shoot some cops it’d be a good try at life.
“You seem stressed.”
The banging stopped. Saul turned to look right at Pauline, his now visible brow furrowed. “Ya don’t fuckin say, huh?! This funny to you?! You enjoying tha front row seat ta me squirmin? That’s fair-“
His voice cracked at the last words and a few tears came through his eyes. He slouched down, truly defeated. It wasn’t clear what decision he made, but one thing was certain: he was fucked.
Pauline was thrown into this situation with a pretty reasonable mindset – this P.O.S broke in, tied her up, and now he’s crumbling under the mistakes he’s made. That catharsis of seeing Saul Roper reaching the end of his normal life became a lot less satisfying when he was crying with fear and dread. Another poor man – he was super fucked, Pauline knew, but maybe this didn’t have kaçak iddaa to be so bad.
Saul looked back up to Pauline. Her sympathetic expression made him angrier.
“Oh, now ya feel bad for me? Or- lemme guess- ya cracked the case on me bein stressed, tryna determine if I feel angry? Sad? Alone…” Saul’s tone lowered with each word, until he barely had a voice at all.
“I can help you.”
“What? Oh, like you can explain ta tha cops why I broke in, stole the money? I’mma textbook man gone mad, I fucked up and now I’m gonna pay for it regardless.”
“Probably, but I think the real problem right now is how stressed you are.”
“Y’know ya bitchy attitude’s part ta blame for that?”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry I stressed you out, Saul. I know you’re under a lot of pressure and even if we aren’t on the same side I think we’ll both be happier if you’re happier.”
“Ok, so… what? Ya got some icecream unda ya bed or what? I mean, you’re awfully pretty, I can always go for a, y’know-“
“You wanna touch my boobs?”
Saul smirked. “I was gonna ask for a dick suckin, but-“
“Yeah no we just met that might be a bit much. But you don’t seem like a huge boob guy so I feel less weird about you touching my boobs.”
He looked her chest over. The half buttoned flannel and her fat nipples underneath were pretty enticing, but she was right. Her boobs looked pretty ridiculous and he was still convinced they weren’t real.
“Ok, what? That’s supposed ta make me feel better?”
“Well-” Pauline scooted closer to him, jiggling her jugs with each thrust. “-just give’m a try. I’ve been told they make pretty good stress balls and that seems like just the ticket.”
“K, fuck it.”
Saul gave her tits a rough squeeze. At first he was just molesting them with all his anger and strength, to Pauline’s pleasant surprise. But after a few squeezes he slowed down, feeling around her entire chest.
“Holy fuck, these are good. They’re warm, they feel like normal tits-“
“They’re real, and they’re a lot more fun to play with without the shirt.”
Pauline swung her chest side to side, inviting Saul to explore. He opened her buttons and her bust sent the shirt tails flying to the side. Out sprang Pauline’s patented milkzookas, firm and full. Her nipples were covered by milk pads but they dropped away with the support of the shirt. Saul was impressed, and even more so when he began rubbing her bare breasts.
“These are real, huh? I don’t think they make’m with blood pumpin through, huh?”
“Real as can be, and real fun to play with, huh?”
“Wouldn’t call’m my cup a tea but they’re pretty fun!”
Saul giggled as he bounced her tit around. Her massive nipple flailed up and down in his face, beads of white milk sprouting from the ducts.
Pauline smiled wide, “Y’know what always makes me feel better? Helping other people. You wanna help me out Saul?”
He nodded, eyes hypnotized by her fat teat.
“My areola there, all that puffy, stretchy skin around that nipple you’re eye’n? That part makes the best kinda stress relief. You can let me really have it there.”
“Ok… wait wait wait,” Saul stepped back much to Pauline’s dissapointment.
“What?”
“Ya seem like a nice lady, Pauline. I’m already gettin pinned with plenty a crimes I’ve done, I don’t wanna be a creep too.”
“No it’s all fine and dandy by me, man.” Pauline purred “You’re pretty strong, and those strong hands are just what my titties need right now.”
“…you prone ta stockholm syndrome?”
Pauline rolled her eyes, “You don’t have to play with my tits if you don’t want to.”
“Oh no, I’m willing and able…”
Saul sunk his hands into her sea of areola, fingers sifting through her flesh. Pauline moaned. Her nipple sent a straight of milk right by Saul’s head, surprising him. That seemed to only encourage his working hands. He didn’t hold back now, and Pauline took on some hefty man handling. Saul pulled and molded the softer edge of her breast like puddy, finding all the spots that made Pauline react. Milk and moans were a simple and fun reward to pull out, and this massive sack of milk was far more fun to play with than he could’ve expected. He wasn’t a boob guy, especially not an unnaturally enormous boob guy, but he probably wouldn’t have many opportunities to do this again.
Saul found a particularly soft spot below her nipple and squeezed it hard. Pauline gave an exceptionally loud moan followed by a serious hose-down of milk. The blast painted the laundry room wall white, and the stream would only increase as he attacked.
“T-that’s one of my favorite spots – oh!” Pauline cooed.
“Ya don’t say, huh?”
“Saul- oh! Quick question – agh! Y-you thirsty?”
The question was only strange to Saul for a moment, before it became much more logical. Pauline’s nipple was his next target. His fingers gripped the hot nub, her nipple too large to fully encompass. The end shot another thick, creamy spray directly into his mouth, almost too much for kaçak bahis the man. He took all though, and swallowed it in one gulp.
“Mmm… again, not that much a milk guy but you’re tasty.”
“Thanks. Milk bar’s open for sucking, don’t be afraid to get rough.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Pauline’s nipple was stuffed right into his mouth, her fat, stretchy nipple filling a good portion of his mouth. He hadn’t even begun sucking and Pauline was cooing and gyrating with glee. His mouth didn’t need to be rough to make her squirt – his gentle chewing and rude tongue made her boob gush plenty enough! It didn’t taste as great in such a big torrent, but what Pauline said earlier was true. The fact that she was enjoying this so much made him happy to.
Saul unlatched. Her nipple was still ready to feed but he let her tit hang to her side. At this point he realized she was still tied to the chair.
“Ah… ya want outta those? I think I’m… ready…”
Pauline’s smile turned to a frown. “Oh, what? Ready to move on or-“
Saul looked out the laundry room door. “Ready ta turn myself in. Thanks for tha ‘stress relief’ hehehe, real fun body you got.”
“Oh! We… don’t have to be done yet, right? You still seem kinda sad, and that’s not good, right?”
Saul nodded, “I suppose me being less than content can be seen as kinda not good.”
Pauline nodded back. “Well then maybe helping me with something else would make you feel better.”
The busty farmer flailed her tits about for a moment, getting drops of milk around the floor. It wasn’t clear what she was up to at first but then her pants suddenly fell away. She leaned back, letting her tits hang to the sides – she was bare naked down to her ankles, legs spread. Saul was distraught, not sure how far he could bring himself.
“Look, ya lovely! But that blowjob bit earlier was more a joke, I don’t want ya lookin back regrettin this!”
“Oh c’mon, do I look like I’m regretting this?”
Pauline thrust herself towards Saul, showing how wet she’d become. She bit her lip as he bent down. His face was right up to her midriff, lips near her own set below the belt.
“Hey Saul, you said you’re not a boob guy – you like a fat ass?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Don’t know if you noticed when you were tyin me up, but in case you forgot reach around.”
Saul’s hands slid along her sides, reaching her fat, freckly ass cushions. Each buttcheek was plenty large in their own regard, and plenty of fun to squeeze like her teats. He played with his bottom for a bit before using those squishy handles to bring Pauline’s pelvis closer. Without warning he dug his tongue into her body. She lurched forward, the unexpected surprise making her weak. Once he’d gotten going, she held his head closer with her knees.
“Oh, a little higher. Yes!”
Saul had found her other weak point. Pauline bucked in her chair, encouraging him to dig deep. Saliva and Pauline’s fluids began to trickle out the sides of his mouth, a truly juicy flavor. Each jolt made her titties rock, hanging milk tanks sending white spurts into the ground.
At last Pauline moaned a long, deep cry of joy. Each teat pumped milk into the floor and clothes piles. Her legs went limp but Saul kept working her like a dog at their water bowl, pulling her ass even closer. He ceased his stimulation but rested between Pauline’s plump thighs.
“…hey Pauline, you want outta those bonds?”
“Sure… but I gotta lay down after that.”
After being freed, Pauline just laid on the ground. Saul stood over her in the pleasant silence. She pat her boob, inviting him down.
“Those make good pillows, huh?”
“Great chairs too. Fuck, you could sit on it if you wanted.”
“Really? I’m kinda heavy.”
“Yeah I noticed. Take your dick out first.”
Saul’s blood started rushing, but he was already hard as stone. He was quick to get naked, his thick dick a pleasant but expected trait. Sitting on Pauline’s boob was handled with a bit more grace, however – crazy big tits or not, this was just flesh. A small, pancaked, flesh beanbag, it felt like. Pauline purred as his bare butt squeezed milk out her nipple. It shot into the hall outside the laundry room in a milky stream of boob artillery.
“Up-sorry! Am I too heavy?”
“No, just fine. You milked the other one pretty good, and now you can help me empty this tank…”
Pauline moved forward, making Saul lean further back on her fat tit. She got her lap right over his lap and flicked his dick with her tongue. It twitched. She made his dick dance around a little more before pulling her hair back.
“..while I empty yours.”
Teeth glided along Saul’s length. Length wasn’t his crowning achievement, but he was pretty thick. Pauline had to gawk on his cock to keep from constantly biting into his meat, and even then her teeth skid along the head. Saul moaned, plenty stimulated by a master at her craft.
His fun was cut short, however, as she slopped off his cock.
“Hey so, don’t take this the wrong way, but I could fuck you up pretty bad if I was salty about the whole break in thing.”
Saul went through a confusing mix of emotions, ending on a bit of fear. “Um… well… yeah you could… uh-“
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