Emboldened, you continue to question Randall further.

Still, minus the mention of your mom and your crusty old chemistry teacher, Randall was giving you gold. He was allowing you a peek into a world that you would never normally be able to experience, as well as give you a uniquely male perspective that would otherwise be impossible to get. To say you were hooked was an understatement. You couldn't wait to hear more!

"And what about.... What about your tits?" you then asked him, moving your focus from his vagina to the two large mounds stretching out his t-shirt.

Rather than happily field this question as he had done the rest, Randall instead looked rather uncomfortable as he let out a sigh. "For fuck sake. I knew this was gonna be a bad idea talking about all this stuff." Obviously he had reached his breaking point, having grown tired of talking about this stuff for one day.

"What? I'm just interested is all. I've never been able to talk to a woman about this kind of stuff before."

"I wonder why."

"Come on, Randall." you pleaded, desperately hoping to persuade your friend. "Humor me."

Pausing for a second and shaking his head, you then watched as yet another trademark smirk began to make its way across Miss. Card's beautiful face. "I tell you what." he said with a rather devious little twinkle in his eye. "I'll tell you all about my tits if and only if you beat my score in the next round of COD. Otherwise, you don't get to ask me anymore questions for the rest of the night."

"Are you serious?" you asked, not entirely sure if he was joking or not.

He was serious it seemed, telling you that "I figure this way I might actually get a challenge out of you for once." before then quickly adding, "Plus, if you lose, you have to do a forfeit of your own for me." You should have realized there would be more to this deal than just that, the whole thing making a lot more sense now that there was something in it for him too (and as he was the 'better' player, had a much greater chance of actually winning).

"I see. And what exactly might that be?" Whatever it was, knowing Randall, you were certain that you'd be both humiliated and embarrassed, that being how most of his dares and pranks usually went.

Rather than have the whole thing thought out already as you assumed he would, he took a moment or two to actually think about this. "Hmm, how about this - for the rest of the weekend you have to do everything I say, no matter what?"

"What? No way!" you scoffed, not liking the sound of that one bit. "That's not fair. You'll make me do all kinds of crazy shit."

"Nah I won't. I'll just boss you around a little, like in class. Make you fetch me chips and soda's and shit whenever I want. That kind of thing. You'll be like my own personal butler."

While this didn't sound too bad, comparatively at least, you weren't entirely sure it was worth the risk either. "I don't know... Sounds like you'd be getting the better deal. I'd need something more." You were pushing it admittedly, getting Randall to answer questions about his tits being a pretty good prize already, but it was still worth a shot (having no idea when an opportunity like this might present itself again, nor if Randall would be as accommodating then as he was now).

"Alright. How about I show you them too?" he replied, raising the stakes further. "Fuck it, I'll even let you watch me suck on 'em if you really want. Give you your own personal little peep show."

Jesus. That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse, Randal dangling you an infinitely more alluring carrot now. Getting to see his huge melons was certainly a thrill whenever it did happen, but watching him play with them for you... and suck on his own nipples again... That was just Christmas!

"Deal?" he asked, putting his hand out to shake on it.

"Deal!" you happily complied, grabbing his hand in yours, no longer even thinking about your own forfeit. After all, what was playing fetch and carry for him compared to watching your God damn fantasy woman acting like some big titty slut in a porno. It'd be kind of like in that video you found on his camera, only live! And unlike the couple of times you'd seen him do it before, this time you'd actually be sober enough to remember it. Shit, I really got to beat his score!

Wasting no time at all, Randall then began setting up the match while you grabbed your controller and proceeded to psyche yourself up. Come on, Tim. You can do it. You can beat his perfectly formed ass! This wasn't like before, you had a reason now to get back into gaming mode, and this time you weren't going to let anything distract you from achieving your goal. Not even your best friend, who had already started teasing you with a few little jabs.

"Better get yourself fitted for that man-**** outfit, Timmy-boy, cause I'm totally gonna give you a whooping!"

"We'll see." you told him, keeping your attention firmly focused on the loading screen.

"That we will."

As soon as the match started you pretty much went into autopilot, letting your reflexes do the work as you hunted down and killed everything in your path, paying no mind to Randall's occasional whoops and hollers. Far from his constant mocking would have people believe, you were actually pretty good at the game, it was just more often than he'd somehow manage to come out on top. Not today though, you thought, giving silent little cheers of your own every time you got a kill and your score went up. In fact, the only time your eyes even wandered from your half of the screen to Randall's was when he suddenly and rather loudly blurted out in frustration, "OH COME ON! That guy should be fucking dead!", having seemingly messed up an incredibly easy kill.

Holy shit, I'm actually winning! you realized, half way into the game, Randall, instead of you this time, appearing to be the one cracking under pressure. Feeling a surge of confidence now that you were in the lead, you chuckled to your friend, "What was that you were saying about a man-**** outfit?"

"It ain't over yet, dude."

"No, it ain't. But right now I'm the one giving you a whooping."

"Well, we'll soon about th... FUCK OFF WITH THAT BULLSHIT!" You couldn't help but let out another giggle, Randall having been ganged up on by like three other players.

"You were saying?"

It really did seem like you had this in the bag, needing only to maintain your lead for the next several minutes, which with the luck he was having, seemed pretty much inevitable.

Not that Randall was giving up quite yet, retaliating to your last jibe through gritted teeth. "I was saying..." Pausing then for a moment, as if searching for a suitable reply, his voice then lost all of it's anger and frustration, instead turning much softer and breathier. "Well I was about to say that I'm having trouble concentrating right now because... well my nipples are like super hard and they're rubbing up against this tight t-shirt and... and.... Oh God!" he gasped sharply gasped, drawing your attention. "It feels so fucking good! My big, hard nipples feel so fucking good!"

Hearing this made your head instantly spin round to look at you friend and the two very large, very obvious indentations poking through his shirt Jesus Christ! you thought, having never heard anything like this outside of a porno, feeling your penis start to twitch and your focus on the game all but evaporate.

Continuing on unabated, his voice dripping with lust and his heavy chest heaving in and out, he squealed, "They're even making my pussy wet. So wet I want to touch it... Oh fuck, dude, I wanna touch my pussy so bad!" You meanwhile were utterly mesmerized, finding this whole thing incredibly arousing. So much so that it took you about ten seconds to realize that while he was saying all this with Miss. Card's breathy, sensuous voice, he was still very much focused on the game, his posture and body language betraying everything he was actually saying.

Fuck! He's trying to distract me, you quickly realized, Randall making a last ditch (albeit rather cheating) effort to win the bet.

"Oh God, I wanna fucking finger myself!"

"Dude, what the hell?" you shouted angrily, forcing your eyes back towards the screen where you'd just been killed. "Shut up with that will you!"

"What? I'm not doing anything." Randall replied innocently.

"Yes you fucking are! You know exactly what you're doing and it's not fair!"

Even without looking at him you could picture the big smirk that was currently on his face as he told you, "I can't help it if COD makes my pussy all...wet... and juicy." really amping up his performance now. "I just love it so much. I want it inside me!"

This unfortunately was just too much for you to take, having your gorgeous teacher sitting next to you on the couch in nothing but a tight t-shirt and panties was bad enough, but this was absolute agony and there was just no way you could focus. He really was using every tool in his now feminine arsenal to beat you, his score steadily increasing while yours had all but stalled. With only a minute to go, if you didn't do something soon it would be all over and he would win. Then it would be bye-bye boobies and hello lapdog. You couldn't let that happen...