Beware the chungus among us

You have to **** yourself to not just run into the dressing room. You've still got enough blood going to your thinking head to take a quick look around to make sure no one's watching the changing area. Luckily, the sight lines of the store ensure there's a separation between the main sales floor and the changing rooms, and there's nobody nearby that could notice your impropriety.

And when you do duck in, you almost forget to close the door behind you. You're greeted by the sight of Morgan sans shirt, holding the cups of what would in any other context be a fairly large bra over her chest, blocking her nude breasts from view. Or, more accurately, blocking her nipples. Enough tit spills out of the side (and top) that it's obvious the valiant white cloth stands no chance at properly fitting her. It'd be like putting bowler hats on the Grand Tetons. It's even more obvious now that the way her breasts sit on her otherwise slim torso is nothing short than the work of magic.

Unfortunately, she turns around before you can really get a decent leer going. Not that it matter much. They're so large that she can't hide her prodigious sideboob, even from behind. Her bare dainty shoulders and thin frame only serve to accentuate just how surreal her new assets are.

"I can't get the leverage to close the clasp," she explains nonchalantly. "Do me a solid and hook it."

You maintain enough of your composure to understand what she's entrusting you with at the moment. Reaching out, you take either side of the brassiere's connecting hooks, and gently apply a bit of ****. Regardless, you don't get anywhere near close enough to hook them together, and any serious effort on your part would likely be very painful for her.

"Sorry Morgan, but unless you're okay with breaking a few ribs, this isn't going to work," you report.

"Yeah, I saw that coming," she snarks as she turns around to face you. "It's not a big deal. It was mostly an excuse to get topless in front of you." You barely have enough time to recognize the wicked smile on her face before she's grabbing you by the head and forcing you down into a kiss. In seconds, her tongue is playing around in your mouth with an urgency that's almost scary. She pushes you back into the wall of the room as she forces her body against yours, the over-strained bra barely providing any coverage for her prodigious mammaries squishing with pliancy against your midsection. After only a few moment, you can begin feel Lil' Jason elongating below the belt, your massive cock beginning to snake down one pant leg.

The two of you make out for a few minutes, and if Morgan notices your dick, she's not indicating it. It's a good while before your lips separate. She doesn't let go of you, but at the very least she does break the kiss long enough for you to speak.

"Where did all that come from?" you inquire incredulously.

She answers you with her usual smile. "C'mon, Jason. A girl invites you into a changing room and you actually try to help her get dressed? You're adorable."

"Well, maybe I'm just old fashioned," you weakly snipe back.

Instead of carrying the conversation, though, she drops to her knees and begins fumbling with the front of your pants. "All right, I've waited long enough. You got to see the girls, I want a peek myself."

Some small part of you wants to point out the fact that, in actuality, you haven't seen under her bra yet, but every other part of you screams to shut up before you ruin everything. As she successfully pulls down your jeans and boxers, you decide to go with the majority opinion.

Given the sudden escalation of the last few moments, you haven't even thought to concentrate on suppressing your erection. Not that you'd want to at this point, anyway. As your pants fall to the ground, your engorgement springs to attention, nearly slapping her on the underside of her chin. She leans away slightly to get a better look at your manhood, and seeing her face to face with it as you reach full mast really emphasizes just how massive it is. It isn't long until you're pretty sure you're hard enough to cut diamond.

"Whoah, wasn't expecting that," she says with a small measure of awe.

"Yeah," you reply, chuffed to bits.

She puts one hand around the base of your shaft... and then the other further up. There's still room for a third before she'd even reach the base of the head. She holds her wrist up alongside it, and you're not sure if they're the same size, or if you're thicker. She looks up at you, eye to eye, with a look of puzzlement on her face.

"Uh, Jason?" she says, somewhat apprehensively. "Were you ever going to warn me about this?"

You give a nervous cough. "Well, to be fair, I wasn't exactly expecting show and tell today."

"Hah, yeah," she replies breathlessly. "That's on me, I guess."

She spends a good moment just staring at your meat, seemingly conflicted, before she utters a small "Ah, fuck it," and immediately takes your head into her mouth.

You suppress the urge to yelp, or moan, or vocalize at all. You have to remind yourself repeatedly, you're in a changing room at the moment. But Morgan's ministrations put that level of self control to the test.

She's giving her all, both hands on your shaft, her mouth never leaving the first few inches of your cock. It's obvious that this isn't her first time putting a dick in her mouth, and while that thought might otherwise give you pause, you're certainly not complaining about her skill. She's using a lot of tongue, making sure to vary her movements, and occasionally bobbing back and forth in a satisfying rhythm, her short undercut flopping around on her head. It's an incredible sight, and an even more incredible feeling, not that it's especially difficult to make a blowjob enjoyable.

After a few moments of her ministrations, she pauses and lets your cock head pop free. She looks up at you, still giving small strokes with her hands. "Hey, mind if I try something a little more wild?"

"Is this tame for you?" you ask incredulously.

She gives you a smile and a wink before lining your cock back up with her lips. She takes a few deep breaths, and then takes your pulsing member back into her mouth... not that it stays there for long. She closes her eyes, and with a bit of effort begins to take your length deeper into her throat. She only gets about halfway down your cock, but it's nonetheless the greatest feeling you've ever felt in your life. She opens her eyes, looks up at your face, and bats her eyelashes at you like a femme fatale from some old noir film. You take the image in, her winged eyeliner highlighting her naughty expression, her throat silently massaging your cock head.

They should've sent a poet.

You can't hold much longer, but you suppress the urge to cum all the way down into her stomach. It just wouldn't be gentlemanly to **** your new girlfriend on your first blowjob together.

"Fuck, Morgan, I'm gonna nut," you announce. Like a gentleman.

Her eyes immediately turn to terror, as she hurries to get your cock out of her throat. She pulls away, but keeps pumping your shaft with her hands, and as soon as you're clear of her face you start blasting.

The first stream arcs majestically through the air to splash it's load square on her left tit, the second on her right. The remaining pumps arc majestically, though all of them impact somewhere in the upper torso. If you had your wits about you, you may have realized that going several days without masturbating was a poor decision in hindsight. By the end of your orgasm, she's got an impressive glaze of baby batter all over her still barely covered breasts.

"Jesus fuck, Jason," she says, surveying the damage. "You cum like a goddamn cannon."

You lean back against the wall of the changing room, somewhat exhausted from the ordeal. "Well, in my defense," you retort, "you suck dick like a goddamn... professional... dick sucker."

"Fuck yeah I do," she says with pride. The two of you can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, even as you survey the collateral damage.

Cleanup, while not particularly sexy, was helped along by some wet wipes Morgan had the forethought to bring with her. It's pretty obvious at this point that this was her plan from the start; get you isolated in a public space, get you to pull your dick out, and get you to cum. You briefly wonder if this was all some sort of test, but brush the thought aside. You can't really say you didn't enjoy it, and you've been dying to show off your new dick to her anyway. It's just a bit of a hassle that the undersized bra was a casualty in all this.

The two of you ended up buying it regardless. You can't really put the thing back on the shelf without subjecting the store to a biohazard, and your sympathy for the plight of the common retail worker prevented you from just leaving it around to be discovered later. Becky, for her part, was pretty happy to make a sell, and gleefully led you to a register. At one point during the checkout process, you're fairly sure you saw her scrunch up her nose in surprise and disgust. It's entirely possible, even if she couldn't see the aftermath, that she could at the very least smell what happened. In any case, she's either too prudish or too embarrassed to say anything, and Morgan puts in an additional order with her for two of their larger custom bras. It's the least you could do for putting her through this.

By the time the two of you make it back to your car, the adrenaline from the extremely risky act has mostly worn off, but the two of you are a little giddy regardless. Both of you are laughing effortlessly at each other's jokes, even if they aren't really that funny.

And sure enough, once you're in the car, Morgan turn to you with her usual smile and says the magic words you've been waiting for.

"Let's go back to my place, and maybe you can return the favor."