That Goo You Do

a quickie by Dan Standing

My fingernails scraped against the surface of the conference table as my bra dug deeper into my shoulders and back. The nails of my other hand were stabbing into my thigh; a losing attempt to divert my mind to anything other than the growing lust that was near to consuming my entire cognitive ability. The low creaking sound, which I knew only I could hear, was almost deffeaning.

My tits had grown over an inch since I’d been called into this meeting. Their full meaty weight rested within the cups of my bra – the bra that was completely overwhelmed. My cleavage had been slowly pushing further and further up from the open neck of my blouse. This had not gone unnoticed by some of my coworkers seated immediately around me, but I knew they were too scared of a sexual harassment suit to say anything. I was just thankful that I’d sat far enough back from the front of the table that the Vice President of Development didn’t yet seem to see my predicament.

Although, I’m sure I could be smelled.

I don’t even remember exactly what I’d said that day. Something about lesbians just being the women who couldn’t deal with cleaning up after a man has had a good spoodge. Yeah, I remember saying “spoodge.” Something about what I’d said upset a passing sorceress – I didn’t know they’d ever existed, let alone were still around in the 21st century.

Anyway, she cursed me.

The curse was simple. Throughout the day my breasts would fill. They would fill and fill and fill, getting bigger and bigger until whenever I finally orgasmed, and at that point I’d release all of the milky-white goo stored within them. And, just to coerce me, the heavier my breasts got the hornier I would get.

As someone who naturally has little two-inch B-cuppers, you can understand that my pussy was especially wet thanks to the grapefruits hanging from my ribs. I had planned to have a little flick shortly after getting into work – when the girls had just reached apple-size – but an unexpected phone call turned into an emergency webinar turned into an urgent conference meeting. The future of the company was at stake, and if I didn’t sit through this meeting, didn’t look concerned, and didn’t not tackle the sales guy next to me, I could go home unemployed.

Just as I could feel my body lifting up to rip open the pants of the guy next to me the VP called a smoke and bathroom break. I don’t think anyone shot out of there as fast I did. With so much built up in my tits there was no way I was going to get myself off in any of the bathrooms on this floor – I’d have to go down to the ones in the building lobby.

I didn’t want to risk being on the elevator with anyone. My pussy was so slick I could feel it on my thighs. My bobbling breasts put on another centimeter – the stretching skin reverberatinig to my eardrums like a creaking floor board – as I frantically pushed the DOOR CLOSE button. The rubbing and bouncing did not help keep my mind focused on the bigger picture. It was all I could do to not shove a hand under my skirt as I waited for the first floor to arrive.

At the lobby I snatched the bathroom key from the security desk and marched as quickly as I could towards the back of the building. My hands – along with my legs – were quivering, and I struggled to unlock the door. I was finally able to get inside the women’s restroom, and as I locked myself in I let out a long sigh.

I first pulled down my completely soaked panties, placing them with a little splat on the sink. I was rubbing my thighs together as my skirt unzipped, and I moved it along with my heels as far away from my legs and the toilet as possible. I had to be careful, I did not have spares, and even if I did I didn’t know how I’d get to them.

My bare feet were cold on the tile, and my bottom lip was practically bleeding from all the biting of it I was doing. As I positioned myself over the toilet I knew it wouldn’t take me long to get off – I’d practically cum from the sensation of my sticky panties peeling off my engorged labia. I could hear my slickness dripping into the bowl, and I pushed a shaking finger between the lips of my pussy to find one more engorged part of me.

I barely had to touch my clit before I could feel the now familiar sensation that preceded my orgasms – the rush of fluid from my breasts through some unknown passage to my pussy. As my body locked up in carnal bliss I felt my vag explode. Strings of creamy white as thick as my little finger sprayed out of me, covering the porcelain throne in heavy, sticky webs.

“Oh…God…” stuttered out of me as my body shook, my hands resting against the tiled walls in search of much-needed support. As my crevice continued to cover the toilet with the force of a fire hose my orgasm rolled on and on. I could feel my boobs contracting – a quick glance down my shirt confirmed they were around the apple-size I’d planned for that morning. I didn’t have much more goo left.

Soon I felt myself cumming down. The pressure behind my pussy rolled back, the arc of the white substance’s spray diminishing. I had raised up on my toes, and my feet were finally able to relax. My heels came down into a pool of goo at least a centimeter deep. Many more layers of whatever was produced in my breasts had covered the toilet and the wall behind it. I could feel the last dollops of of it dropping out of me onto the forward lip of the bowel.

I wet some paper towels and wiped myself down as quickly as I could. It was the best I could do. The cleanliness of the bathroom was a lost cause – some poor janitor would have to deal with all of the slime I’d cast about. The room was an absolute mess. There was also no way I could dry or discreetly get my panties back upstairs, so I balled them up inside a paper towel and hid them in the trash.

I was sad to lose my underwear, but as I zipped up the skirt and checked myself in the mirror I felt pretty good, all things considered. Parts of my skin were a little tacky, but that was noticeable only to me. Emptying my breasts this late in the day meant it was unlikely any more meetings would drive me to this stage again. And since I’d smartly left the office there was no way for anyone to know I was responsible for a mess of this scope. I laughed to myself as I picked up the key and opened the door, happy to have gone another day victorious over the curse.

“Oh, Stacey was in there. Don’t wait for me, everyone, I’ll use the one down here and then join the meeting,” I heard the VP of Development say as I exited the bathroom. I looked up to see her and the other smokers reentering the lobby from their smoke break.

Before I was able to stop her the VP grabbed the key from my hand, she smiled a silent “Thanks,” and she caught the bathroom door before it had fully closed.

FIN