(Absorption TF, Man to Breasts)

Mike tapped his finger on his steering wheel, the rhythm an impatient beat that matched his heart. It was still stuck in his head, that damned caption. It wasn’t just that it was hot, he’d have been fine with that. No, the caption had to give him ideas.

It was of a blonde with enormous breasts that reminded him of his ex, and a smirk that reminded him of his crush. She tauntingly held a massive bra, still steaming from the warmth of her body heat. That was another irritation. He could envision how damp it must still be, how it would smell, how it would feel.

The caption just made it even better. She was a reality shaper, with the exact right amount of casual cruelty. Well, maybe a little more than he’d like, but he wasn’t quite thinking with the right head when reading it.

A car honked behind him, and he tapped the gas a little harder than he’d liked. Still, he smiled. He knew he had to write about it. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of drive, pun unintended. The rest of the trip home was a haze of imagination, and he barely registered the steps up to his apartment.

All of the day’s fatigue was replaced with purpose. He dropped onto his couch, curling his toes and wondering when he’d tossed off his work clothes. That probably didn’t matter, after a few drinks he was sure he’d be pleasantly sloshed.

The important thing was that now, just a little bit into his first drink, he’d sit down and write about…

What?

He leaned back, lips quirking into a small frown. What was he going to write about? The girl turning the reader into a bra? Maybe something with teasing him as-

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought – assuming a stalled train could be interrupted. He set his laptop casually on the floor, warily heading to his door. He hoped it wasn’t some solicitor, he didn’t have the emotional patience to deal with that right now.

“Hey~” A sultry voice sang through the frame. Two massive breasts filled his faze before he remembered to look up at her face. She was just like the photo, and staring right at him.

Mike flinched back, shocked. His hands flew to the latch, slipping it back and clicking his door open. Maybe it was a mistake, but it was Friday, and he was far too tired to think rationally.

“Wow, that was fast. Someone’s pent-up, huh?” She walked up to him, then past him, her eyes glancing around his apartment. “Or lonely.”

He followed her gaze, seeing where he’d laid out another 2-player game for a solo runthrough. “Hey. Lots of people play chess against themselves.”

“Mhmm, and do those same people do the same with…” She squinted and leaned forward. She smelled a little like perfume, with a touch of salt to it. “… I honestly don’t know what that is. Some kind of board game?”

“It’s-” Mike began.

“And I don’t care.” She tapped her foot against the door, closing it. Then she turned towards him with a smirk. “You didn’t even ask my name. Were you really that engrossed by my tits?”

“I was thinking it would be the same as the caption,” Mike replied, a nervous smile on his face.

“And what was my name in the caption?”

He paused. It wasn’t like he could just check his phone to remember. Why would he even be expected to remember? ‘Tit Monster’ was the only thing that stuck in his head.

She laughed. The sound was proud, self-assured, mocking. “Sasha. And even though clearly you don’t know what you want, I have a few ideas.”

“Ideas?” Mike flinched internally, he didn’t mean to sound so hopeful.

She pressed a hand on his chest, leading him towards his couch. She absently kicked his laptop over, her smirk widening as he didn’t move to straighten it. “Good boy.”

She dropped her perfect ass onto his couch, spreading her thick thighs. Then she reached behind herself, unclasping her bra. She undid a button on the top of her shirt, tugging her bra out from beneath it. Each cup was bigger than his head.

Mike tried to say something clever, maybe even something flirty. He was sure it came out as “Ahmmawha.”

Sasha patted her thigh. “Come on. Be a good boy and sit down. I know you want to.”

Mike blushed, turning and sitting on the edge of the couch. Her pillowy thighs squeezed against him, and a slender yet powerful arm slipped around his waist. She pulled him towards her. He still didn’t have words, too afraid that saying anything might wake him up.

“Come on, lean back,” Sasha cooed.

Mike did as she asked, groaning at the warm, soft feeling of her breasts around his shoulders. His eyes closed as he savored the feeling of Sasha’s body against his own. He didn’t even resist as she slipped his glasses off of his face.

A shadow fluttered across his vision, and he opened his eyes in time to see one of the cups of her bra descending upon him. He didn’t even have time to gasp before the warm fabric enveloped his features, smothering his cheeks.

“See? I knew you’d like this. After all, you’re a horny, naughty mess right now.” Sasha’s voice seemed to fill his ears, enveloping his world.

She pressed a little harder, drowning Mike in her scent. He swore he could feel the back of her head enveloping his head, that he could feel her pulse through her breasts. He tried to speak, but could only moan.

That should have been a warning that something was wrong. A lot of things should have been warnings, actually. But Sasha was right: he was a horny mess right now. So he didn’t react as her other hand delicately cupped his groin, lifting him, pressing him against her warm, perfect softness.

The rational part of his mind felt that something was wrong with how he was being held, and that his feet weren’t on the ground. And wasn’t there something weird about how it felt like she’d somehow slipped his shirt and boxers off-

Warm pressure cupped his crotch, and Mike’s worried evaporated in a sea of pleasure. His hips pumped with an oddly wobbling motion, but Sasha pushed her bra against him a little closer. She cupped his face in one cup and his crotch in the other, rubbing at both of them.

The pleasure was unlike anything Mike had felt before in his life. Just as the warm, damp softness of her bra smothered his front, the perfect heavy weight of her breasts engulfed him from behind. Her stiff nipples wonderfully pressed against the back of his head, against the base of his spine. Then the feeling of them faded.

Mike’s eyelids fluttered, though he still couldn’t see anything beyond the darkness of her bra. His whole body felt more fluid now, as though he was jiggling in time with her breasts, as though he was boneless. He tried to move, but almost all his muscles below his neck didn’t respond anymore.

“Ooh, I felt that. Did someone finally notice what was happening to him?” Sasha’s voice sounded louder. Or maybe it was that Mike was smaller. She groped at him through her bra, she groped at her breasts through her bra.

It didn’t feel like there was much distinction between the two, not anymore. She’d been sucking him into her cleavage this entire time.

Mike tried to call for help, but the soft cushion of her bra smeared across his face, wiping away his features like he was made of clay, swirling them into skin that matched the rest of her tits – no, not quite that. The part of him that was his face felt stiffer than the rest of him, sending a new pleasure through his body that almost matched the feeling from between his legs.

There was a fluid, rippling sensation as his waist was swallowed by her flesh, only to split into two selves. Most of his body was just her breasts now, though his face and crotch now served as her nipples. He felt heavy. Fluid. Trapped.

The warm cushions of her bra filled his world, stifling them with the heat of her body, trapping it in with him. He could only perceive touch and sound, though the latter was oddly muted. Beads of her sweat pushed out through their shared skin. All of it was endless bliss.

That was the worst part about it. He knew he should have been horrified to lose his body. This should be some sort of nightmare. But every time he tried to feel anything close to panic, more pleasure would drown the feelings out.

If Mike had a heart, it would be racing, but he didn’t even have that. Her pulse thundered through him. He bounced on her chest as she rose from his old couch. She hummed to herself, and the sound resonated through the thick fat that was his entire existence.

Sasha was walking, moving somewhere. Mike had no idea where. A feeling of vertigo gripped him for a moment, followed by an impact that left him freely bouncing on her chest. The muted feeling of her fingers through her bra gripped him again, enough for him to stiffen.

He felt and heard Sasha laugh. “Don’t worry. While I was thinking of leaving you in here like this, the idea of my tits having a mind of their own is just weird. I don’t need that keeping me up at night.”

He felt the soft cushions of her bra tighen around him for a moment, before loosening. Cool air met his hot skin, only for her fingers to squeeze him tightly. Her left hand pinched at what was his groin, stiffening the nipple that was now there and driving the former man insane with lust.

Was this part of her plan? Was she thinking about brainwashing him through this pleasure? At this point, was there even any sense in resisting?

Then her lips covered the nipple that was his face. Her tongue flicked against him for a moment, just long enough to excite him. She started to suck.

To Mike’s surprise, something flowed out of him, warm sensation flowing across his thoughts, drowning out all sense of… Something… It was getting harder to think, harder to focus.

“Mmm, that tasted like memories of school.”

School? What even was that? Mi didn’t know. But he knew he felt incom… in… incomplete.

Sasha pinched at their left nipple again, squeezing it, kneading it. She nibbled at their right nipple, sucking just a little more from him. From them? From herself?

M… Tit… Breast… Tried thought… Every… Slow…

Sasha sucked more, squeezing, pinching, caressing. It could have been minutes, hours, seconds, an eternity. But eventually, she was done, leaning back in a bed that wasn’t her own, idly kneading and playing with her fat, sweaty tits.

They jiggled softly with her motion, slick with her sweat and saliva. They were hot, heavy, full. And that was all. There was no capacity for even the slightest thought, just an endless, unknowing content.