Uschi

  Roger stared with bittersweet longing at Uschi’s upswept breasts, a deep cleavage formed where the bra was holding them together from beneath. They weren’t just tits, he thought. Far from it. They were something else altogether, something superhuman and miraculous.

  ‘Imagine if I were to walk around like this all the time.’ Uschi stood and paraded up and down the room, her bare breasts jutting, nude and wobbly, from bra and blouse. ‘Yes, for a while you’d be looking at my tits all the time, your cock like steel, cumming in your pants every five minutes. But eventually you’d get used to it.’

  ‘Uschi, I can’t take this. My cock and balls can’t take it.’

  ‘If it were up to me, the whole team would work topless. And you’d be bottomless. Us girls all with our big tits out, bouncing freely in front of you, and you with your cock out so we could monitor your arousal levels.’ Uschi swung her hips and wiggled her breasts at Roger, causing them to spill out of her clothes still further. ‘Clothes just seem to make you worse.’

  ‘But Uschi,’ said Roger, ‘This is going to backfire on you, because the more accustomed I become to seeing your breasts, the more I want to touch them. You’re not curing me, Uschi; you’re just turning me into a bigger pervert, dammit!’

  Uschi tugged her bra back up, letting her attractive breasts plop one after the other back down into the capacious cups. ‘So you’re saying you want to grope Alice, Sarah, Susan, and Kathrin, too, now you’ve seen their tits?’

  ‘I... I don’t know. I guess I’m over them, now I know what their breasts look like.’

  ‘Are you over me?’

  ‘No, Uschi, no. But the reason I can’t masturbate thinking about you is that all I can think about is cumming in between those tits of yours, or even what it might be like to f-f...’

  ‘Fuck me?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry, but that’s the truth. All that keeps me going at night now are my fantasies about Selina and Vanessa. And I know you’re thinking of ways to spoil that, too.’

  Uschi sat down next to Roger and placed her hand on his. ‘Yes, we’re going to get Selina and Vanessa topless for you soon, and we’ll get their bra sizes for your spreadsheet. And then you can finally find out my bra size, and finally, Roger,’ Uschi leaned in closer so her bust pressed against his arm, ‘Finally you can fuck me. Over and over again. Cum inside me, all over me, fuck my tits, as often as it takes for you to finally get over me, get over all of us, so we can all finally get on with our lives.’

  She stood and left Roger with that thought, closing the meeting room door behind her.

  Roger lay awake in bed that night, his erection kept half-heartedly aloft by thoughts of Vanessa and Selina’s ample, clothed bosoms, and the teasing glimpses he had had of both in the time they’d worked for him. Uschi’s words, half promise, half threat, turned over in his mind. His obsession with her ran much, much deeper than with the others, whom he still considered little more than busty decoration. He finally went to sleep without ejaculating, and awoke with an infuriatingly permanent erection that he ended up having to hold in place with his belt, using the biggest kipper tie he could find to conceal the long, throbbing bulge under his shirt.

  At work, Selina notified him that the team was going to need to take an afternoon off for International Women’s Day the following week. ‘Roger, I was wondering if you might like to chair one of the sessions.” Selina asked, her alarming twin torpedo-breasts jutting above her still-flat stomach and aiming above his head as she stood next to where he sat at his desk. ‘You’re the only manager with an all-female team under you, and that gives you a unique perspective on women in the workplace.’

  Roger caught Uschi’s eye, then looked quickly away again.

  ‘Certainly, Selina,’ he smiled. ‘Which session is it you’d like me to chair?’

  ‘The one on dressing appropriately to your figure in the workplace. We have a lingerie expert and some models coming in; we just need you to chair the proceedings, read some things from a script I’m writing. It was Uschi’s suggestion that you do it, and I agree with her that some gender inclusivity would be good for the event. Okay?’ Selina’s chest swung round and she returned to her desk.

  Uschi wagged her eyebrows. Roger had the familiar sinking feeling that wheels were being set in motion.

  Susan, meanwhile, was showing him something of a cold shoulder. He had wondered whether he should say something, anything, apologise for running off the way he had. But he also wondered whether Susan, as drunk as she had been, perhaps had no recollection of their near-nude tussle, and if he simply didn’t bring it up (and he prayed that Uschi wouldn’t break confidence) then Susan might write the whole episode off as a strange dream. As it stood, her communication with him was now kept to a minimum, limited to sober, perfunctory, work-related exchanges. Her tops and dresses were as low-cut as ever, but somehow Roger couldn’t bring himself to steal his usual furtive glances any more, as her breasts now just reminded him of the awkward, embarrassing encounter in her apartment, and he would rather simply pretend it hadn’t happened.

  He thought back to Uschi’s notion of the whole team coming to work topless, and wondered if he would ever reach a state where big, bouncing breasts didn’t arouse him to the point of touchless orgasm. He didn’t want to live in a world where the outward sexual characteristics of the female sex were entirely demystified. If a bared bosom lost its allure, how would men get aroused enough to perform intercourse? Sex would be reduced to an animal instinct! Where would the fun be, the beauty, the tease, the desire, the endless sense of unresolved tension? It was all Roger lived for. Deep down he knew he was different, that most people lived more conventional sexual existences, but he pitied them the same way Uschi seemed to pity him.

  He tried to picture the nudist-office scene, and given his familiarity with most of the breasts in the office, found it much too easy. In his mind’s eye, Kathrin’s firm, puffy-peaked H-cups tore their strident way through minimiser bra and blouse to protrude and sway extravagantly as she walked to her desk from the photocopier. When she stopped to look at her watch, Roger imagined she was stopping to give him a better view, encouraging him to drink in the healing sight of her heavenly nude form, smiling with pride as his throbbing member ejaculated one step closer to curing him of his obsession for good.

  He pictured Sarah O’Reilly’s round, softly pink-nippled boobs emerging from her tube top, this time not as the result of some contrived wardrobe malfunction, but offered with a smile of generosity and a sly wink as she jiggled them free in willing dedication to Uschi’s cause. She knelt to tie her shoelace, and observing her heavy Irish boobs as they swung and wobbled, Roger fantasised himself lying beneath her, his cockhead filling her jostling cleavage with yet more thick, liquid salvation.

  And Alice, having already behaved so flirtatiously with him prior to Susan’s birthday drinks, would, in this fantasy scenario, have no problem disrobing for his benefit, a saucy giggle every time an “accidental” shimmy of her ample, naked, dark-nubbed jugs purged his aching testicles of yet more unhealthy desire. ‘Oops,’ she would say, ‘Sorry Roger, you came so hard over my big bare boobies during the team meeting, I thought I could get away with giving them a jiggle now without making you cum again, but it looks like there’s still gallons of the stuff left in there. Back to the drawing board!’ And she would think up more ways to stimulate him closer and closer to the spunky eruption that would end his tit-fetish for good.

  But whereas this line of thought would in the past have provided him with days’ worth of happy speculation as to the naked reality of his team’s busty assets, he barely had to use his imagination at all, as their naked breasts, nipples, and bra sizes were now indelibly etched in his memory. In fact, the more he looked at the girls, the more his imagination was stripping them topless whether he wanted it or not. Uschi had provided him with the X-ray specs he had always dreamed of, but now that he had them, the prosaic reality of the human body was setting in. He still needed to cum
, but it was far too much, far too soon.

  ‘Uschi, a word in private please?’

  Alone in the meeting room with Uschi, Roger ran a frantic hand through his thin, greasy, greying hair. ‘I need to cum, Uschi,’ he panted in wild-eyed, bulging-trousered desperation. ‘Immediately.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Uschi, unbuttoning her blouse in preparation. Her globular breasts were quaking in natural exuberance within the black cups of her balconette. ‘This is good progress. You should cum here at work rather than waiting until later. You’ve been picturing us all naked, haven’t you? All of us bosomy young women going about our jobs with our firm titties on display?’

  ‘How did you know?’ Roger shuffled off his belt and trousers then began the delicate operation of disentangling his painfully bent erection from his underpants.

  ‘I could tell by your eyes,’ said Uschi. The cups of her bra fell away just in time for Roger’s backlog of opaque white seed to pelt her quivering young bosom, swollen areolae, slender neck, and athletic stomach in a swift series of ball-draining blasts from where he stood a few feet away.

  ‘Christ,’ Roger wheezed.

  ‘Let it all go, Roger,’ said Uschi with serenity, giving her proud, olive-hued, cum-slick mammaries a shimmy of encouragement. ‘All that cum is better out than in. You shouldn’t be bottling it up to let it out at night on your own. It should be filling up pussies, mouths, and cleavages, or sprayed over bosoms, bottoms and faces.’

  Roger gripped the table as his long, thick, still untouched cock spat out a couple more strands of jism onto the carpet tiles. ‘Thank-you, Uschi,’ he managed to say, taking in the overwhelming sight of his voluminous white load quivering in thick dollops and strands all over Uschi’s exquisite upper body. ‘I needed that.’

  ‘More than you know,’ said Uschi sagely. ‘Now, Roger darling, clean all this jizz off my tits so I can get dressed before someone comes in.’

  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather a woman ran this session, Selina?’ International Women’s Day had arrived, and Roger was flipping through the cue cards Selina had put together, most of which, inevitably, concerned advice on dressing to hide large bustlines when in a workplace environment.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Selina. ‘It will be fun. Uschi insisted you’re the right man for the job, and she’s right, we need a senior male figure on hand to give reassurance that the issues women face have been taken on board by the male-dominated management.’

  Roger looked at the agenda for his session again. Models had been booked to demonstrate appropriate and inappropriate clothes, a professional bra fitter would be giving advice, and Roger was going to have to host the whole thing, provide commentary from Selina’s breast-heavy script, and moderate the Q&A. The very thought of all this terrified and aroused Roger in equal measure, to the point where he felt very close to summoning Uschi for emergency relief all over her breasts. But it had only just gone 9am and he didn’t want to give his Bavarian torturess the satisfaction. Instead he managed to rein in his ejaculatory urges, even seeing the words breasts, bosom, and bust in Selina’s neat handwriting so many times on the cards.

  The team headed to the company auditorium on the third floor. While the rest of the team went to find seats among the throng of fellow businesswomen, Selina tapped Roger’s arm and led him towards the door of an adjacent conference room.

  ‘This is the backstage area we’ve organised for the presenters,’ she explained before opening the door. ‘It’s also where the models are getting changed, but they’re professionals so I’m sure they won’t mind you being in there, too.’

  Before Roger could respond, Selina opened the door and ushered him inside. A tubular clothing rack stood in the centre of the room, from which hung numerous female outfits and bras. Roger’s mouth dried up, and he felt the thickening of his penis weigh him down, dulling his mind as the blood rushed from his head to his groin.

  A tall, skinny brunette model bounded past in just her knickers, holding her enormous bosom with her hands to stop it bouncing, and flashed Roger a big smile in passing. Roger’s cock erected itself through the hole in his left trouser pocket, its swollen head pushing against handkerchief and the hand that was tactically put there to meet it. It was as though Uschi’s vision of the topless workplace had come true.

  ‘Got rather a lot up top, hasn’t she?’ murmured Selina to Roger, giving him a cheeky nudge.

  ‘That’s the idea, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh of course, anything less than a D-cup and we’d be asking the agency for our money back.’

  ‘Agency?’

  ‘An agency that specialises in large-breasted models. Perfect for the business-attire demonstration we’re giving, and a great way to give some work to models who are too large-bosomed for fashion work and too, well, too nice for, you know... I think the polite term is “glamour” work.’

  ‘A very noble gesture,’ opined Roger, watching as the model, her back to him, let go of her breasts. The swaying globes were so big they were visible either side of her slim back. On the other side of the room, a redhead smiled across at them as she shrugged off a floral cotton bra to casually reveal an alabaster-pale freckled pair of globes that were as improbably perky as they were generous in volume.

  Selina clicked her tongue, then lowered her voice in an aside to Roger, ‘Another redhead stealing my busty thunder.’

  Roger couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  The wavy copper-haired young model skipped across to them, her small pink nipples dancing atop her stark naked, freely cavorting boobs, and shook Roger and Selina’s hands in turn. ‘I’m Jemma,’ she said, ‘Thanks so much for booking me, it’s my first paid job since the agency signed me up. So excited!’

  ‘My pleasure,’ said Selina, as bemused as Roger by the young woman’s devil-may-care attitude toward nudity. ‘You’re certainly amply qualified for the job!’

  Jemma gave a quizzical smile, then looked down at the two ample qualifications that swelled with gravity-defying pride before her. ‘Oh!’ she laughed and slapped one of them, causing it to thump against its counterpart before setting her whole bosom into a series of jostling reverberations. ‘You mean these! Yes, well if it’s clothes for big-bosomed businesswomen you’re presenting today, then I’m certainly the big-bosomed girl for the job!’

  Roger realised with heart-pounding excitement that he could talk freely about this beautiful young woman’s breasts to her face, and chanced his arm. ‘What bra size do you wear, Jemma?’ he asked with as nonchalant a demeanour as he could muster. Selina eyed him with wry amusement.

  ‘Thirty-two F,’ said the topless Jemma, breasts still a wobbly distraction for Roger. ‘Though I know they look bigger than that. It’s because they stick out so much instead of sagging down.’ She used her index fingers to stretch her breasts down to where they might hang on the frame of the average F-cup woman, then released them, causing them to spring back up with sprightly elasticity. ‘It’s so great to be getting work finally! Bosoms like these are a curse when you’re trying to start a modelling career.’

  ‘They’re perfect for what we need.’ And, thought Roger, perfect in every other respect, too. ‘I look forward to seeing your breasts in the various outfits.’

  ‘First time any man has told me he looks forward to seeing them covered up!’ said Jemma, then roared with laughter, setting her bouncy bust into a merry dance once more.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jemma,’ said Selina with a curt smile, then ushered Roger across the room where the brunette model was doing her make-up. ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ said Selina, addressing the model’s reflection. ‘You must be Shelley.’

  Shelley smiled, turned, and stood. She was tall, slightly taller than Roger. Her fringe flopped over her eyes and she blew it away. Meanwhile, the towel she had wrapped herself in unknotted itself and fell away from her back, held up only by the pouting tips of the enormous breasts beneath it. ‘Yes, that’s me, are you Selina?’

  ‘I am
, I’m coordinating the day. Thanks for doing this.’

  ‘My pleasure, always good to be working,’ smiled Shelley. ‘Especially when these puppies are an asset rather than a drawback!’

  Selina indicated Roger. ‘This is Roger Addington, he’ll be hosting the session where you’ll be modelling the various outfits.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Roger, and shook Shelley’s hand. The bust beneath her towel looked immense, worthy of Kathrin.

  ‘We saw Jemma’s nipples,’ said Selina, ‘And given how small and flat they were, I’m assuming you’re the girl we’re going to be using to illustrate the various ways to deal with big erect ones?’

  Shelley nodded. ‘I am indeed your big-nippled booking.’

  ‘May we see your nipples?’ Roger couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth.

  ‘Yes, certainly,’ replied Shelley, and obligingly tugged the towel from the protruding shelf of her bust. Her nipples were size, shape, and colour of pencil erasers, set on the pale, goosebumped mounds of areolae each a couple of inches in diameter. Her breasts themselves were pale, cartoonishly large melons that hung with an attractive amount of slight sag.

  Roger’s penis emitted a sticky cry for help in his trouser pocket.

  ‘I can make them more erect than this,’ she said, and busied herself tweaking them with nail-lacquered fingertips until they stood out even firmer and thicker. ‘You’ll see them through anything, even a padded bra,’ she said.

  ‘What size bra do you wear?’ enquired Roger calmly.

  ‘Thirty K,’ said Shelley, prompting another throbbing pre-ejaculation from Roger’s crazed erection.

  ‘Natural?’ asked Selina, also staring in disbelief at Shelley’s prodigious endowments.

  ‘One hundred per cent,’ insisted Shelley solemnly. ‘Please do have a feel if you’d like to be certain.’

  Roger wasted no time in taking Shelley up on this offer, and cupped both of Shelley’s large breasts in his hands, which suddenly seemed tiny in comparison. Groaning inwardly, Roger hefted each soft, smooth globe, marvelling at how dense and heavy they were. Shelley smiled indulgently as Roger then alternately squeezed them and jiggled them ponderously up and down.