Xeroxing my Zeppelins [MF, Exh, Titty-fucking]

“How’s the studying going, Sasha?” Matthew whispered across the table.

“As good as can be expected,” I sighed, leafing through the massive textbook before me, smaller textbooks arrayed around it like moons. “I’m just looking forward to midterms being over so I can get back to a healthy sleep cycle.”

“Don’t worry. After next week things will be back to normal. It can’t be any worse than your philosophy class last semester, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true, at least, but that’s a pretty low bar. I just wish Professor Kaminski explained things a little better…”

“No, no, it’s like he always says: “Theese iz very seemple!” Isn’t Jessie taking that class with you? Maybe meet up with her later to go over some stuff.”

“Maybe I will…”

“Oh yeah, there’s a taiko concert next weekend. Wanna check it out with me? Saturday at seven. We can grab sushi beforehand, too. Make a night of it.”

I smiled. “Yeah, sure, that sounds fun. I’ll need something like that after these exams.” I looked up at the clock. “Damnit, I need to go to class in half an hour… Ugh, why do course reserves have such ridiculous late fees? Maybe I should just hold onto it overnight and pay the fine.”

“Why don’t you just go photocopy the pages you need? That way you’ll have it and you don’t need to deal with trying to snatch the book back and forth from your classmates. Plus it’ll be cheaper than incurring the librarians’ wrath.”

“Good idea! Hey, watch my stuff for me, I’ll be right back.” I hefted up the book, grabbed my student ID, and made my way into the bowels of the library where the copiers dwelled.

Flip the page, put the book down, close the lid, press “Copy.” Flip the page, put the book down, close the lid, press “Copy.” Flip the page, put the book down, close the lid, press “Copy.” The mind-numbing rhythm of the copier’s lazy excretions was lulling me to sleep. God, this was boring. No one to talk to. Nothing to read except the textbook, if I wanted to interrupt myself every nine seconds. Nothing to do except babysit the copy machine .

I poked the copy button again and waiting for yet another page to be spat out. I turned the page of the book and was greeted by the glorious sight of the end of the chapter. Finally! I set the book back down and copied the final two pages.

I collected my pages together and stapled them into a few manageable packets. I would have choked the stapler had I tried to staple them all together. I checked my watch. I was all done, and with five minutes to spare! They could at least put a television down here or something to keep things exciting, I thought to myself as I skipped away from my Sisyphean torture. Maybe play some good shows. Or hell, porn. If my tests were going to bend me over and ravage me, I might as well get to enjoy watching someone else experience it, too. Misery loves company, doesn’t it? It would certainly spice up this unending tedium…

I paused. The sound of my final skip echoed down the otherwise quiet hallway. I looked around me. I was alone.

I bit my lip and snuck back to the machine. A lascivious thought had popped into my head. Did I really want to do this? The idea excited me. I glanced down at my cleavage. My nipples were already hard, poking through my top, eager to be involved in my plan. No one would even know it was me. Besides, it was charity, basically, right? Selfless altruism: leaving something to brighten up some random stranger’s day.

I peeked down the hallway once more to confirm my isolation before hurriedly throwing open the copier’s lid. I lifted up my top, silently thanking whatever god looked after exhibitionists that I hadn’t bothered with a bra that day, lowered my breasts onto the surprisingly cold glass, and, for the first time, pressed the copy button with joy.

A blinding light emerged from the machine. I shuddered, as much from the clamminess of the basement as from the fear—or was it a hope? —that someone might sneak up on me and discover me bent over the copier, my tits spilling out before me. The beam of light passed across my zeppelins with agonizing slowness, gathering every bit of visual information it needed about my full, round breasts.

The light vanished. The wheels inside the machine whirred to life. I stood back up and tugged my shirt back down, taking the opportunity to slide my hands over my breasts. My nipples had hardened into pebbles. I sighed deeply as I caressed my breasts, massaging them. I was still awed by my daring, impressed by my audacity.

It certainly wasn’t a rare thing for me to go outside without a bra, showing off my nipples, seeing who noticed, who ogled at me, who stared as I walked past. If I were being perfectly honest, it was a minor hobby. But I had never taken the next step and actually bared my breasts before… A single piece of paper emerged from the photocopier.

…Until now…

I released my breath and picked it up. The copier was old and decrepit, but it worked. My jugs looked amazing. I studied the black and white image. It was a new view of my breasts: pressed against the glass. My nipples and areolas were best defined, as the edges of my breasts faded into darkness. I left the paper it in the tray, tits-down, and walked away, my heart pounding and my panties moist. I was really doing this.

I returned my book to the librarian and returned to my table, hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Sorry I took so long, Matthew. There were a lot of pages.” I threw my stuff into my bag and zipped it closed. “I’ve gotta run to class now, though. But I’ll see you in the dorm, okay?”

He looked up at me and managed to smile through his tired grimace. “See you later, Sasha! Have fun at class.”

“Good luck studying. And take a break or something. If you just keep studying all night, you’ll burn yourself out.”

“I will…” he mumbled, reaching for a nearby bottle of Coke.

“I’m serious,” I emphasized as I left. “Take care of yourself!”

Later that night, back in the dorm, I decided to visit Matthew and see how he was doing. Poor guy. Orgo was really giving him a hard time this semester. I put on an especially tight and low-cut shirt and shimmied in the mirror. This should cheer him up. Well, these, to be more accurate. It’d be good to give his brain a chance to rest and let his little head take over for a bit.

I walked to the end of the hall and knocked on his door.

“Come in,” came a muffled reply. I swung open the door, entered, and froze.

Time stood still.

Matthew was sitting at his desk, covered with loose papers and books, a box of tissues and a container of hand lotion off to the side. He had turned towards the door when it opened. His shirt was off, revealing an unexpectedly well-muscled chest and a nice set of abs. But what grabbed my attention was further down.

His hand was stroking a long, girthy cock, emerging from his jeans like a rocket ready to launch. His smooth, thick, shaft glistened with creamy lotion. He was enormous. His hand just barely fit all the way around his manhood. The head of his cock was round and sleek and wide, perfect for penetrating a pining pussy. I raised my gaze and our eyes met.

Time started back up.

Matthew’s eyes grew wide. His jaw dropped. His hands dived down towards his dick, shielding it from view in a desperate attempt to preserve the remnants of his modesty. Sweat dewed his reddened face. “What are you doing?! I said ‘coming!'” he shouted, his hands almost, but not quite, entirely concealing his impressive package. The tip of his red, thick cock peeked out from beyond his fingertips.

“I-I-I thought you said ‘come in!'” I stammered, my eyes locked onto his crotch, onto that smooth, bulbous head.

“Close the door!” he shrieked. I slammed it shut. He smacked his forehead. “I meant from the outside, you idiot! God!”

“I panicked!” I turned around and faced the door, blood roaring in my ears, my cheeks aflame. “I’m so sorry…” I swallowed. My heart was racing in my chest as the thought of his massive manhood settled into my mind for a long, long stay. “Um, you should really lock your door when you have your Happy Hand Time…”

“Wow, really? Thanks for the advice. My lock’s busted. I already submitted a maintenance request, but they said it could be a few days.” His loud sigh behind me nearly covered up the sound of his zipper. “Okay, I’m decent again. You can turn around.”

I obeyed. He avoided eye contact. “Couldn’t wait that long, huh?” I asked.

“Not really, no. I needed to let off some steam. I feel a lot more relaxed afterwards. You were the one who told me to take a study break, remember?”

“I was thinking something more like a walk than a wank.” I stole a glance at his lap. The obvious outline of his virility straining against his pants reached almost halfway down his thigh. I looked elsewhere before he could notice my stare, and my eyes landed on his desk. “So is this your inspiration?” I asked, plucking the paper away from him before he could grab it. My breath left me. My heart froze. It was me. Well, part of me…

An intimately familiar pair of melons greeted me. He had been masturbating to me. He had been so overwhelmed with lust at the sight of my breasts that, busted lock or no, he just couldn’t resist touching himself, couldn’t resist stroking his cock to me. My voice quavered as I commented, “Wow, amazing breasts. Where’d you find this?” I really should have taken that acting elective last semester…

He snatched it back from me and buried it underneath a stack of notebooks. “I found it at the library,” he admitted. “I was taking a walk and found it in one of the copiers. Someone must have left it behind, and when I saw it, it was just, wow… I couldn’t believe someone did that, you know? Just the thought of one of our classmates making copies of her breasts and leaving it behind to be found…” He coughed. “It just really got me going. So I grabbed it for later, when I could, uh, properly appreciate it…”

I wished I could have been there to watch him discover it… How did he react? Was he too shocked to take it at first, only to come back, enthralled by his lust? Or did he grab his prize as soon as he discovered it? Did he recognize them at all? Did he have any inkling that those breasts he was masturbating to belonged to his best friend?

I walked behind him as he talked and tugged my top down a bit, revealing as much cleavage as it allowed. “Guess you really liked them. Are they nice tits?” I asked, sitting down on his bed and leaning forward. His gaze lowered. “In the picture, I mean. Is that the kind of breasts you like?”

“Yeah, they’re fabulous: big…round…cute nipples. Plus it’s just such a turn-on that she’s confident and bold enough to show them off like that. That’s the sexiest part to me, that there’s a secret exhibitionist around.”

“How do mine compare?” I asked, oh so innocently, arching my back to give him a better look. My, my, was that a twitch in his jeans I just saw? He must be enjoying the view. And he had been so stressed lately… As had I… The two of us deserved a little fun, didn’t we? And I deserved another look at that cock…

“Uhh… Um, it’s hard to say… Y-yours look pretty incredible, too.”

I lifted up my top in a single swift motion, leaving my bare breasts jiggling. “Does this help? How are they?” I asked with faux earnestness.

“Sasha!” he exclaimed. His lips fumbled for something to say for a few seconds before he could finally get his mouth working, his eyes never leaving my breasts. “They look fantastic,” he managed quietly.

I looked down with a look of concern, holding them up and together. “You don’t think they’re too big?”

“Not at all… They’re the perfect size.”

I beamed. “The perfect size for what? Have anything in mind for them?” I asked, reaching out to place my hand on his leg, his cock against my palm. “Have you ever fantasized about them before?” He nodded. “What do you fantasize about?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“Please? I promise you won’t regret it…”

His eyes looked up to mine for the first time since I had taken off my shirt. “Well…um…whenever I, erm, masturbate to you…I fantasize about, ah, well…” he trailed off into an inaudible mumble.

“What was that?” I asked, my fingers grazing against the edge of his shaft. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I fantasize about titty-fucking you…” he confessed. I pulled back my hand and stood up. “S-sorry… I just can’t help it. You’re always showing off your breasts, and your nipples are like, always hard. You turn me on…”

“Don’t apologize…” I knelt down between his legs and set to work getting off his pants. I undid his zipper and tugged off his jeans, slowly revealing his long, delicious shaft inch by glorious inch. It just kept going and going… Finally I had unveiled it all as it sprung up before me, slowly bobbing in front of my face as I got my first good look at that magnificent, marvelous manhood.

I reached out and grasped it before I could even think about it. I had to. It was a compulsion as strong as any reflex. He gasped as I stroked him softly, gazing upon his phallus, feeling its smoothness, its firmness, its hardness. It felt as though it had been carved from marble. His cock was heavy, engorged with blood, ready to perform its duty. My fingertips felt along his veins, committing every inch of his manhood to memory.

I inhaled his virile musk deeply, savoring his aroma. I squeezed his head softly, imagining how it would feel forcing apart my labia. I tussled his small bush of black hair. I cupped his delicate, smooth balls, contemplating how much cum they held, how much I could force them to release to me. I looked up into his awed countenance.

“Do you want to try it?” I asked him. His only answer was an uncertain nod, as though he feared this might all be a trick of some sort.

I pumped some of his lotion into my hang and rubbed it into my breasts. My hard nipples grazed against my palms. The way he stared at me, at my tits…it was obvious he lusted for them. How had I never noticed that look in his eyes before? He was eyeing me like my tits were winning lottery tickets.

I leaned forward and enveloped his hot cock with my breasts. I could feel his heart beat pulsating through his shaft. I pressed my breasts together and began to move them up and down, masturbating him macromastically. He leaned back in his chair and moaned. “Shit… This is a dream come true,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I promise it’s real.” I massaged his cock with my breasts, bouncing them up and down, embracing his manhood with them, my hands keeping him joyously trapped. His soft, stifled moans encouraged me. I was his fantasy, and I was real. His rigid shaft burned inside my cleavage, pressed against my heart. He panted, gasping for air. His cheeks were flushed. His head tilted back.

My supple breasts undulated around his engulfed manhood, sliding up and down along his heavy shaft. His cock was pulsating so strongly, begging me to make it cum. The head of his cock poked out from my cleavage. I bent my neck and licked the tip of his cock, slurping his smooth, wide head, coaxing forth his orgasm.

“Sasha…” he warned me. “I’m gonna cum…”

Perfect… I licked my lips and continued, refusing to pause for even a moment. I craved his orgasm. I wanted to force it from him. His manhood throbbed against my soft breasts. He closed his eyes and gave a bestial groan. His cock spasmed . His first spurt of warm, sticky cum surprised me, hitting my lips, dribbling down my chin before I licked it up. He was delicious.

The rest of him essence gushed onto my breasts, covering them with wave after wave of his hot semen. His hips bucked as his body surrendered to my tits. Finally, his orgasm subsided. He breathed deeply and slowly, recovering his energy. His happily exhausted face filled me with the approval of a job well done, of doing something special for my best friend that only I could provide to him.

I looked down at his satiated cock, cozily nestled between my cum-covered breasts, the evidence of his orgasm. I had done it. I ran my finger through his cum and suckled it clean. “So, how was it? Are you satisfied? Was it everything you were expecting?”

He panted out a laugh. “Yeah…wow. That was absolutely amazing. I never thought my fantasy would come true like that…”

I smiled and kissed the tip of his cock. It felt gratifying to be appreciated for my assets. “Have any other fantasies?” I asked, smiling up at him.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3zadsd/xeroxing_my_zeppelins_mf_exh_tittyfucking