Editorial Licentiousness - Cover

Editorial Licentiousness

Copyright© 2011 by Axolotl

Chapter 3

Humor Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Loretta van der Koekhuis is a publisher of adult fiction in The Netherlands. Her life is turned upside down when she meets the characters from a book she is sent by an English author. Who'd guess such a fantastic tale could be true?

Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/ft   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Humor   Interracial   Black Female   White Female   Petting   Lactation   Size   Teacher/Student   Big Breasts   Slow   Workplace   School  

Loretta had been glad of the opportunity to get Sarah out of the office for the rest of the day. She had to get a few things sorted out. The first was to put her bra back on, then she had to look at those Polaroid pictures and send one off to Juno, then maybe - just maybe - she'd be able to get on with some work.

The bra ought to have been simple enough, but it was so tight that she could only fasten it on its last set of hooks, and even then it felt like a strait-jacket. "It's no use," she sighed, and took it off again. Her nipples were hugely erect and almost visibly throbbing. The areolae were puffed up and felt hot to the touch. The remainder of her breasts felt as if they were bursting. Even the cool silky material of the new shirt didn't offer any relief.

"This is ridiculous," she said as she pulled the photographs from the drawer and peeled off the backing of the most recent two. She had a fit of the giggles as she saw the one with her hands covering her breasts, and when the final image appeared, showing her thrusting her chest out like one of Joop's porno models, she laughed out loud. "Juno's going to love this one!"

The phone rang, and Loretta knew who it was before she even picked it up.

"Loretta?"

"Juno! I was just thinking about you!"

"Oh, no, you can't have drunk all that milk already? You'll explode! And have you got that photo yet?"

"Yes, that's what I was doing when you called. I'll send it tonight. But surely you didn't call just to say that? I'd hate to have your phone bills!"

"Well, there was something else, actually. You know I said Millicent was going to pay a visit?"

"Of course! It was only this morning!"

"Well, she's been."

"Good. How was she?"

"Oh, Loretta! I'm still shaking all over. I never thought ... she's so ... I mean, she's got ... oh, my God, Loretta!"

"Sounds like she's made quite an impression on you, dear!"

"Loretta!" Juno whispered hoarsely into the mouthpiece. "I am sopping wet through!"

"Juno?"

"You know I prefer girls to boys, of course?"

"Well, I ... I suppose I'd guessed, in a way..."

"Right. I mean I don't hate boys. I'm not a virgin or anything, but it's nicer with another girl. They know how to make me feel good. Well, I'd never done anything like that with Millicent, at school. We used to go out with boys. But when I saw her today, I just flipped. She'd got her babies in a buggy thing, and she brought them in. She said it was time for their feed. I could see that, without her telling me. Talk about full! She was practically bursting!"

"She's still as big as she was at school, then?"

"As big? Still as big? Loretta, she's fucking gigantic! You know in the story, she's only about four feet three or something tall? Well, I s'pose it happened gradually and I didn't notice, but she's taller now. Not tall, not even as tall as me, but she must be up to four eight or nine. But it's her tits! She said it started when she got pregnant. They'd been very big before; I mean, in the book she'd reached forty-five inches or thereabouts."

"That was big, Juno!"

"That was massive, Loretta! Granty says that's especially huge for anyone as short as she was. He says that if she'd been scaled up so she was the same height as me when we were twelve, her bust would have been more like fifty than forty-five. Of course, with the pill and the hormones and the milk and everything, I was always bigger than her, but without all that stuff that happened to me during that summer holiday, I might not have been bigger than Millicent at all! Anyway, then she said once she was about three months pregnant, they'd like doubled in size!"

"Oh, Juno!"

"And they carried on getting bigger until the girls were born..."

"Bigger?"

" ... And then the milk started..."

"What happened?"

"They got even bigger, Loretta!"

"They were twice as big as they had been before? And they got even bigger than that by the time she had the babies? And then she got even bigger when the milk started?"

"You got it!"

"So how big is she now?"

"In inches? She doesn't know. When the milk first came in, she said her tits were absolutely solid as rocks, but they're not so full now."

"So they're smaller than they were?"

"No, bigger! She's got even more milk now, and they've sort of stretched. When she walked in, she was wearing jeans and a shirt."

'Same as me, ' thought Loretta, wanting more detail. "What kind of shirt? A T-shirt?"

"No. It was a man's work-shirt. One of those blue things? It was a real man's, 'cos the sleeves hung down about six inches past the end of her fingers. It must have been the biggest size they make; the neck-hole was probably big enough for her head to fit through. It was tucked into her jeans, and... Loretta!"

"Yes?"

"Even inside this shirt, her tits hung down so far, they came down nearly to her ... to her thing."

"Her thing?"

"Nearly to her pussy! And that was with the shirt holding them up. Then when she fed the babies, and she sat down and got one breast out and it rested on her knee!"

"God, Juno!"

"I was flooding my pants! I've never been so turned on by a pair of tits! They're the biggest I've ever seen."

"They can't be. Yours are the biggest ever."

"You think so? So did I, until I saw Millie's."

"Hers can't be as big as yours?"

"I think they can. We didn't actually compare them, but I'm sure they're as big. They might even be bigger."

"You didn't compare them?" Loretta was disappointed.

"There wasn't time. But that's why she gets her sister to look after the kids, 'cos her tits are so big she can't move around too easily. She had loads of things to ask me, which was why she came round instead of getting on the phone. Things like bras - she can't get one to fit anywhere - and breast-feeding..."

"What about it? It's natural enough, isn't it?"

"It is for me. That's why she asked me. She was worried about other people drinking her milk."

"You don't mean she puts it in bottles and sends it to other people too?"

"No, but she feeds her little girls. That's what was worrying her. She thinks if her milk is the same as mine, her little babies will end up with gigantic tits. I told her she wouldn't find out for a few years and anyway it's too late to worry now; she's been feeding them for a month so they've already had enough big-tit-hormone to give them monster whoppers as soon as their figures start developing."

"Those poor little girls, they don't know what's in store for them."

"Could be worse," said Juno with a giggle. "Just think if they'd been boys!"


"Oh no, why did I have to wake up now?"

In the darkness of the bedroom, Loretta screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in the pillow, trying to go back to sleep and carry on with her dream where she'd left off. After two or three minutes, she realised it wasn't going to work. It never did.

The bed remained obstinately empty. Juno wasn't there, nor was the girl she could only assume was Millicent. Slightly less disappointingly, nor was Joop, who had been attempting to impale the entire cast from every conceivable direction. The only occupants of the bed now were Loretta herself and an appallingly large and rapidly chilling puddle.

"God, did I do all that?" she marvelled, knowing the answer only too well. She rolled out of bed, taking the saturated sheet with her, then sat up, fully awake at last. Slowly, her hands came up beneath her breasts and she breathed in sharply. She crawled to the bedside table, trailing her sheet behind her, and fumbled around for the light switch.

"Ah!"

A few milliseconds of light, then - ping - darkness more profound than ever.

"Oh, fuck!" There was a spare bulb in the kitchen cupboard, about five miles away through crocodile-infested swamps. She stood up and shuffled forward, feeling for the edge of the bed, disentangling her feet from the clinging bedclothes. "Let go, you bastard!" The wet sheet came free of her foot as she kicked harder and harder, then there was an explosion of pain and a constellation of stars as she kicked the leg of the bed. "Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!" she howled, using the all-purpose English word as the tears poured down her cheeks and she collapsed in a writhing heap on the bed. She'd broken at least six toes on her right foot, and she could feel the blood gushing forth. They'd find her in the morning, a wasted corpse, the bedroom a charnel house...

The pain subsided to little more than an agonising throb after a few moments, and Loretta once more became aware of what she'd been aware of before. She felt the aching mounds of her breasts once more. They felt immense. Was that the right word? She revised her estimate downwards slightly. 'Immense' was reserved for the likes of Juno and Millicent. In that case, what would be the right word to describe Sarah?

"What does it matter? All these words!" she rolled on to her back and cupped herself again in both hands. They were certainly very big, much bigger than yesterday morning, and the puffy ends now felt as big as halved grapefruit. All this in twenty-four hours! Or was it? The red figures on the digital clock swam before her eyes. Three... ?

"Not even four o'clock. I can't get up yet."

She couldn't go back to bed either, not without a clean sheet. With a deep sigh she got to her feet, still whimpering with the pain from her destroyed toes, and felt her way to the door, found the light switch ... and slowly uncovered her eyes.

"Oh, my!" Loretta had to admit it, these were serious breasts. She bent her knees and shook her upper body from side to side, feeling the weight of them as they jiggled in three directions at once. She bent over forwards and let them hang beneath her, then swung her shoulders so that the heavy weights rebounded against each other in the middle. It felt incredible. Not only did she have a big pair, the shape of those puffies gave her an unbelievable profile, far bigger now than the two halves of her Stress Ball. Even her own familiar nipples were getting in on the act and sticking out like organ stops.

She wandered into the kitchen and stood in front of the fridge, wondering what she was doing in there. Back out again, pausing at the bedroom door for another look at her breasts in the mirror, then to the airing cupboard for clean bed-linen. Back to the kitchen for a light-bulb - remembered it this time - then into the bedroom again to strip the bed completely, fit the clean bottom sheet, change the cover on the duvet, replace the pillowcases and gather up the whole soggy armful of sheets to carry them off to the kitchen and stuff them in the washing machine. She even went on the prowl for the underclothes she had taken off last night, giving the crotch a dainty sniff before blushing scarlet with shame and thrusting them hastily into the machine with her eyes watering. The washing machine lumbered into action as she plodded back into the bedroom and changed the bulb in the reading lamp, almost sending the whole thing clattering to the floor when it came on as soon as she screwed the bulb into its socket. Finally, she bent close to the mirror and cupped her breasts, raising them lovingly to her lips. Jeez, they were beautiful, she thought as her tongue flicked out and lapped at the long, thick nipples.

"Loretta van der Koekhuis, do you realise what you are doing? You are licking your own nipples. Both at the same time!"

She licked them again in the darkness as she lay on her back on the clean sheet. Licked them and sucked them, making the tingling almost unbearable. Wow, this was all right! Instant big tits, and getting fuller every day. How much bigger were they going to get? It didn't matter, she decided joyfully. Let them grow as big as they liked. Let them become immense. She closed her eyes, blissfully remembering more and more of her dream.

It had all started last night, when she had fallen asleep after masturbating frenziedly for what might well have been a couple of hours. It had all been Juno's fault, she remembered, smiling fondly. The girl's descriptions of Millicent had grown more detailed with each repetition, and Loretta had made her re-tell the whole episode three times. In the end, she had persuaded Juno to call Millicent first thing in the morning, take her along to her bra-maker - that absurd Miss Twinkle of hers, whose real name, it transpired, was Twizzle - and make sure she got herself a properly-fitting nursing bra. And while she was at it, to make a careful note of all of Millicent's vital statistics. That, naturally, was the most important instruction of all.

Juno had giggled. "You horny Dutch moo-cow," she said. "I'd better have a word with Grant and get him to write another chapter, 'specially for you. And we'll have to see if Millicent can spare a few days for a trip to Europe sometime!"

"Here we go again!" She rolled over on to her tummy, one hand trapped beneath her, already soaked to the wrist with her slick juices. The mounded shadow of her bottom filled the wall as she humped furiously against the bed.

Then, as somewhere in the distance a clock chimed five, Loretta got up and padded to the bathroom. And before she lay down again with the delicious prospect of two hours' dream-filled sleep, she spread a warm fluffy towel on the bottom sheet.


She had been premature in sending that photo to Juno yesterday, and that was a fact. In the handful of mornings since she had first woken up to find herself with breasts, this was the largest amount of growth she had seen. As far as she could tell, they even seemed to have grown since early this morning when she had got up to do the laundry. There was no doubt at all that the areolae were even more puffed up now, and when she wobbled her bouncing burdens from side to side, they felt unbelievably heavy.

And when she had buttoned her purple shirt across the aching nipples - having abandoned her day-old bra as a hopeless cause - she could see that they stood out from her chest by noticeably more than the width of her hand. One thing was for certain, she couldn't carry on with the charade of trying to deceive Sarah any longer. She was going to have to admit to her that her bust was growing at a frightening rate. Sarah would know what to do, anyway; she had grown quickly herself a couple of years ago. She'd remember what it was like.

The other thing was that Loretta couldn't carry on buying a new bra every day. These things cost money. Better to let matters take their course for a few days. Maybe in a week or so the growth would have slowed down or even stopped and she'd be able to find a nice bra to fit. On the other hand, if it didn't, in another week she could be looking for a custom bra-maker. With a nervous laugh she envisaged a scene where Juno, Millicent and Miss Twinkle - or Twizzell - all appeared in the office to measure her for a new bra. She couldn't imagine how big Miss Twizzell might be, but the very thought of fitting just Juno and Millicent in that cramped space was enough. They'd have to hire Joop's studio for the occasion.

No, there must be someone in Amsterdam who made custom bras. She was on the point of reaching for the phone book when she remembered that she was still no more than a D cup. Or a DD, at the outside. How about finding a bra-maker now and booking an appointment for a week in advance? The thought only seemed to increase the throbbing tingle in her nipples, as if her breasts were doing their best to reach custom-bra size in record time.

"What if they never stop growing? What if they grow this much every night? Or even more?"

It was with that uncomfortable thought that she shrugged into her raincoat and emerged into the drizzly morning...


"Who makes your bras, Sarah?" she asked abruptly as her assistant was making the first pot of coffee of the day.

To her surprise, Sarah turned round with a laugh. "You getting worried about those things of yours?"

"Of course not!" Loretta said sharply.

"I only asked. They're huge this morning, aren't they!"

"Does it show?"

"Are bears Catholic?" Sarah grinned at Loretta's confused expression. "Don't answer that. Yes, it shows. They've grown a lot more since yesterday, haven't they?"

Loretta nodded silently.

Sarah moved round the desk with a mug of coffee and placed it on the blotter so it eclipsed yesterday's cum-stain. She placed an arm around her boss' shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. You're growing a lovely pair of big tits, but they're nowhere near needing a specially-made bra yet. You probably passed fifty women with breasts as big as yours on your way to the office this morning, didn't you?"

Loretta forced a smile. It was true, she had found herself noticing busty women and young girls even more than usual. The only difference was...

"But theirs aren't growing like mine are."

"Okay, maybe not, but yours will reach a decent size then they'll stop. All that's happening is that yours started later and now they're catching up. Fast. Come on, get the girls out and let me have a look at them!"

"I beg your pardon, Sarah!"

"Come on! Take your shirt off. You've seen mine, now show me yours."

"I can't! What if anyone comes in?"

"We'll hear them coming, don't worry! Look, you can see mine again if you like." And Sarah quickly unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a thunderously huge black bra. "See? Does that help you keep a sense of proportion? Now undo yours."

"But I'm not wearing a bra."

"Okay." Sarah stripped off her blouse and tossed it on the desk. "Now you can undo your shirt." Sarah's bra seemed to fill the room. She bent low over the desk and shook her torso ever so gently. The end result was entirely disproportionate to the amount of effort she put into it, as her breasts threatened to come piling out of the monster cups. "Come on, Loretta. Fair's fair. I've stripped down to my bra. You open your shirt first, then I'll take this thing off, then you take your shirt off altogether."

There could be no possible objection to that. "I hope you won't be disappointed, that's all," said Loretta in a small voice as she unbuttoned the purple shirt and allowed it to gape open.

"Disappointed?" Sarah gasped. "With those?" She pulled the shirt apart at the front and gave the older woman's breasts their freedom. "Oh, my God, look at those nipples! Those puffy nipples! Those enormous puffies! They're like a young girl's!"

They weren't like any young girl's that Loretta had ever seen, but she hadn't seen very many. Nevertheless, Loretta was gratified by Sarah's reaction. Her assistant's face was flushed and bright-eyed, her lips moist. Her fingers flickered around the throbbing mounds, almost but not quite touching.

"Come on, let's get topless!" she cried, reaching behind her back and tearing at the hooks of her bra. It was incredibly tight around her body, like a steel band, and the shoulder straps, despite being almost two inches wide, cut deeply into the soft, pale flesh. "You too," she urged as she liberated her mighty wobbling spheres. "Ooh, Loretta!"

Loretta shrugged out of her shirt quickly before she ran out of courage and changed her mind. Her entire horizon was filled by Sarah's breasts, squashing themselves against the top of the desk, in constant jiggling motion, the nipples expanding and continuing to expand.

Sarah, meanwhile, was almost slobbering at the sight of Loretta's far smaller breasts. Apparently size wasn't all that important.

"Look at the size of those nipples!" the girl whimpered.

So apparently size was important after all.

"Can I... ?"

Loretta wondered vaguely what the correct behaviour was when an employee asked her boss if she might touch her naked breasts, but then the question became immaterial as Sarah plunged her face forward and took one of those monster nipples in her mouth. She sucked at it briefly before transferring her attention to the other one, alternating every few seconds, so Loretta didn't know if she was coming or going. Correction, she knew she was coming, all right. She wanted to stuff both hands down into her lap but had a feeling that would be impolite, so she grabbed Sarah round the neck and pulled her closer. That was when she realised she had nothing herself to suck, and that a perfectly good - and incredibly huge - pair of breasts were going to waste less than arms'-length away.

"Mmmmnn?" Sarah moaned as Loretta stood up and pulled her around like a massively-endowed rag doll. "Oooh, yesss!" the girl sighed as the two of them fell in slow motion to the threadbare oblong of carpet between the desk and the doorway. Somehow, Loretta had ended up underneath, which wasn't quite what she'd planned, but when half a ton of breast began slapping her around the face, she decided she might as well make the most of it.

At some time during the next half hour, they must have mutually agreed that they were overdressed with their jeans on. Loretta didn't remember calling a time-out, but she must have done, as when she was brought to her senses by a clamorous pounding on the office door, she looked around and saw two pairs of everything scattered around the floor.

"Special Delivery!" called a hoarse voice.

"Oh, shit!"

Sarah, still on top, giggled. "Anyone we know?" she coo-ed.

The boy switched to English. "Special Delivery. Got a parcel for you."

"It's a young lad who always stares at my tits," Loretta whispered. "Don't open the door for Chrissakes!"

"We can't open the door. We're lying in front of it," Sarah hissed back. She called to the delivery boy, "Leave it outside!"

"Need a signature."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Loretta tried to wriggle free, reaching for her jeans.

"We haven't got time to get dressed," said the practical Sarah. "He'll get bored and go away."

"Important Delivery! It's very big. Very heavy."

"Shove the note under the door!" suggested Sarah.

"It won't go under the door. It's on a clipboard. I've got to get a signature."

"Jeez! Move over, Loretta. Crawl behind the desk. I'll hold the door open a few inches. He won't be able to see anything." That was perhaps wishful thinking on Sarah's part. She opened the door just enough to get her head round it. "I'm down here," she said, and the boy jumped back a yard in his surprise.

"You've got to sign for it," he said, bending down.

"What is it?" said Sarah, intrigued. The parcel was a square box tied with hairy string. The boy lifted it with an effort and put it down again. "It looks heavy."

"It is heavy. I'll bring it in for you." He hoisted it again and took a step forward.

"No! We can manage it. You can leave it out there."

The box was really too heavy. The boy was exhausted after lugging it up all those stairs. Now, as he attempted to carry it inside, he lost his balance and lurched forward, out of control. Sarah was doing her best to hold the door ajar so Loretta could hide behind it, but as soon as the surprisingly solid bulk of the young lad made contact with it, it swung open. Sarah rolled out of the way just in time, ending up sitting with her back to the wall and her legs at one hundred and eighty degrees. The boy gaped at the busty vision before him, dropped the box, tried to step round it and failed. He tripped over it and sprawled on the floor with his stunned face between Sarah's tits.

"Wow," said Sarah. "So this is Special Delivery!" She clutched the boy around the broad shoulders and held him in position.

"Sarah," Loretta bleated from behind the desk. "Let him get up!"

"I thought you might want to make yourself decent first."

"What? Oh, shit! Where are my jeans and panties?"

"Underneath me. Sitting on a pair of your used panties is like sitting in a bucket of water. You'd better do the best you can with just that shirt."

"Nnnnnfffl?" the lad asked.

"Stay down there a minute and enjoy it," Sarah told him. "In fact, I'm quite enjoying it myself." One hand went exploring. "Hey, you are a big boy!"

"Sarah, stop it!"

"It's a pity to waste something like this." There was the sound of a zipper and the boy wriggled helplessly. "Don't you want to see it? Look at the length of this thing!" And with a satisfied grunt, Sarah produced the evidence, rolling the boy over to one side while keeping his head firmly imprisoned between her breasts. "How about that for a sausage roll, then?"

Loretta had to admit, Sarah had a point. The boy, for reasons known only to his Maker, was hung like a stallion. Perhaps not quite as thick, but certainly as long. And he was undeniably ready for action.

"Loretta, be an angel and toss my purse down here, would you?"

"You're not going to... ?"

"Not going to what?" Sarah asked innocently, catching the purse in mid-air, flicking it open deftly and producing a business card. "Here you go, boyo, you're wasted in this job. Give this number a ring. When the secretary answers, ask for Yope." And she released the boy's head from her cleavage, giving him an extreme close-up view of a slightly sweaty Grand Canyon before swishing her hand briskly up and down the staggering length of his cock. Her whole hand seemed to be moving twelve inches at a stroke. But not for long.

"Unghhhh!"

Sarah rubbed the cream assiduously into her breasts, not missing a square millimetre. "Thanks," she said politely, scrambling to her feet and offering the boy a hand up. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Franz. Franciscus."

"What a lovely name! Coffee?"

"Sarah, you can't offer him coffee!"

"We can't send him out there without a drink. He's just lost a great deal of fluid. A very great deal!" Sarah rubbed herself against the disbelieving youth who stared round the room as if committing it to memory.

"He's looking at me!" Loretta whined.

"Of course he is. What do you expect? Either put some clothes on or get down behind the desk. We can see all your crotch from here. I don't mind looking at it, but it's hardly the kind of thing you ought to show to an impressionable youth."

Loretta took cover.

"I'd better be going," said Franz.

"But you've only just come!" Sarah giggled. But with some reluctance she helped him load his manhood back into his pants and steered him towards the door. "See you soon," she said to it, stroking its head with a certain familiarity.

The boy plodded downstairs in a dream. He'd had a hard enough job persuading his colleagues of what he'd seen on his last two visits to this address. They'd never believe this latest experience in a million years. If it weren't for the soggy sensation in his underpants, he probably wouldn't believe it himself. He opened the door to the street and stood blinking on the doorstep.

From far above him a voice tinkled.

"Franciscus, sweetie! You forgot to get a signature!"


Loretta had never seen Sarah in such a businesslike mood. In fact, her assistant had done almost precisely nothing since joining Blue Blackbird Books, although the office had become an altogether more lewd place. But now, she was leafing through the trade directory with the phone tucked under her chin, dialling number after number and speaking in the Loud English that is so necessary when talking to damned foreigners.

"How's it going?" Loretta asked, looking up from the latest story submission, which appeared to have been typed by an infinite number of monkeys on a bad day.

"Three that look likely. Five more so-so and four that don't speak English. Just a couple more to go..." Her gaze defocused itself and she gazed at the wall above Loretta's head. "Hello? Oh, hel-lo. My name is Sarah Simpson. Yes, English. How can you tell?" She nodded vigorously to Loretta. "Yes, perhaps you can help me. I need a brassiere. Yes, a bra. No, a very large one. You know about cup sizes and stuff like that? About a Q cup, maybe bigger?" She covered the mouthpiece and hissed at Loretta. "Sounds quite intelligent. Could be the one. Hello? Sorry, no, I was talking to someone in the office. My boss. Yes, she is quite intelligent as it happens. Whereabouts are you? In your shop, oh, good. And where is your shop? I see. What street is that? Lorry-what? It's not a street? A what? A boat? You're on a boat?" Sarah rolled her eyes. "She's on a boat. So how do we get to you? Oh, a houseboat, tied to the bank. Yes, this afternoon, why not? Okay, three o'clock, then." She put the phone down and wiggled a finger in her ear. "Why do these people always have to shout?"

"You started it, you were shouting at her."

"I was not shouting. Just speaking clearly so she could understand English."

"She probably thought you were deaf. So where is she?" Sarah showed her the address. "Lauriergracht. It's not far from here. Ten minutes walk. Am I coming with you or not?"

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