Right Answer, Wrong Question

Matt let's out a soft groan as he realizes what just happened. He's not sure if he fully blacked out or not, but the man is doesn't seem too concerned as he wiggles his hips to adjust himself as his weight rests on the massive breasts, slowly remembering what was going on.

Matt flinches as he hears the voice in his head, speaking softly and reflexively more than actually meaning to direct it toward the man, only having just remembered that he was there as he turns to look over his shoulder, expression nervous even though he had just been wiggling that impressive, round rear.

He's a bit scared of the AI at this point. Had it made him faint? Actually, it was the sun and the poor lung capacity that the hidden corset allowed, paired with the sheer weight of those impressive breasts that had him fall forward. At this point, he even considers trying to get some staff to help with it, but it's more a fleeting thought than anything serious. Besides, he had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

When the top comes undone, he can't help but feel worried. Even though it's not really him who has these breasts; even if they're fake. It's the implication of what's going on, the façade he's putting on for this man. The AI makes sure to tell him just how interested the man is as he lays there, now literally trapped laying down with those big, firm palms working the lotion into his back, appalled at just how pleasant it feels against his second-skin.

After accidentally goading the man into further touching, his toes curl from the strange sensation of closeness and the clearly-eager—if controlled—touching. The AI chimes in again at this point, speaking loudly and clearly: "For maximum enjoyment, you may lower my volume while interacting with others. Is this volume sufficient?"

"Lower..." he sighs, knees bending slightly for a moment before relaxing again, wishing he had a pillow to bite into to endure the sensitive body's feedback.

"Is this sufficient?"

"No, Keep going..."