Swimming Lessons: Suit Cut Off

Walter-son was bent over the locker room bench, with their swimsuit yanked to the side. Their heart was hammering as Mike pressed against him from behind. The thick, swollen cheeks of their buttocks jiggled heavily with every small movement, the fabric stretched so tight it felt like it was cutting into soft, pillowy flesh. Mike’s cock nudged insistently between the massive globes, trying to find the right angle.

“Fuck… hold still, ‘Alison,’” Mike grunted, gripping the overflowing hips. But the suit’s material, bunched and wedged deep their the cleft, refused to cooperate. Every thrust just slid along the outside, the tight spandex acting like a barrier. Walter-son gasped, a needy little whimper escaping their pretty lips as the pressure and friction sent sparks through their over-sensitive body.

“It’s not working,” Walter-son hissed, voice breathy and strained. “The suit’s too tight… my ass is too big now. I can’t get your cock in me.”

(S)he reached back with both hands, trying to peel the swimsuit down over the enormous, jiggling cheeks. Their fingers sank into the plush new flesh, but the suit wouldn’t budge past the widest point of his hips. The material had become a cruel cage — stretched paper-thin, digging in painfully, making the cheeks bulge out even more obscenely on either side. Another warm pulse rippled through their glutes, forcing them a fraction fuller. Their butt did a humiliating wobble that accompanied the growth.

“Shit… it’s still growing,”(S)he moaned, panicked. “We have to get this thing off me.”

Tim, still standing guard by the door and looking mortified, whispered urgently to his dad, “There’s no time to go all the way home. Coach’s office is right across the hall — she keeps spare suits and scissors in her desk for emergencies. Go. Now.”

Mike pulled back with a frustrated groan, his cock still hard and glistening. Walter-son straightened up, feeling the massive weight of their new ass shift and bounce with the motion. The swimsuit was practically a thong now, the leg holes buried in soft, overflowing curves. Every step toward the door sent ripples through his backside that made his knees weak.

They slipped out of the locker room and darted across the empty hallway to Coach Ramirez’s small office. The door was unlocked and the transformed woman thanked god. Walter-son rushed inside, Mike and Tim right behind him. (S)he yanked open drawers until (s)he found a pair of heavy-duty scissors.

“Hurry,” Tim begged, glancing back towards the entryway.

Walter-son bent over the coach’s desk, ass thrust out, and handed the scissors to Mike. “Cut it off. Fast.”

Mike didn’t need telling twice. He hooked a finger under the strained fabric at the small of Walter-son’s back and started snipping. The scissors bit through the high-quality material with a loud shhhk-shhhk. The suit fell away in pieces, finally freeing the monstrous, swollen ass that had been trapped inside.

“Jesus Christ…” Mike breathed, staring. His hands immediately sank into the plush flesh, squeezing greedily.

Walter-son moaned despite themself, the cool office air on their bare, hypersensitive skin making him shiver. “Don’t just stand there; finish what we started before—”

Footsteps.

Voices.

The unmistakable chatter of several girls from the team echoing down the hallway, heading straight for the locker room. Practice must have ended early for the next group.

“Shit!” Tim hissed, eyes wide. “They’re coming!”

Mike still had his cock out, throbbing. Walter-son’s newly-freed ass was presented perfectly over the desk, cheeks spread slightly. A small bit of growth could even be seen by the naked eye.

Walter-son looked back over their shoulder, flushed and ****, one of their blonde locks fell over her eye.

“Quick,” (s)he whispered hoarsely, arching their back and pushing his massive, jiggling ass toward Mike. “We’ve got not much time. Fuck me hard. Now.”

The approaching footsteps grew louder. The locker room door creaked open just down the hall.