[inflation, popping]

Existing in this world is to exist amongst contradictions.

On the one hand, being inflated is extremely pleasurable and fun. Your body is almost entirely hollow and empty, making you light as a feather. Your skin is tight and stretched and overly sensitive. Just the slightest touch of a finger can send you into waves of giddy orgasmic pleasure. You can stretch out your body to have hourglass proportions that would make Jessica Rabbit blush.

But on the other hand there is the inherent danger of being so inflated. Getting lost in the pleasure. Not being fully aware of how big you’ve gotten. And of course… popping!

Inflating is such a thrill, but it comes with such massive risks. To be so taut and swollen that just the tiniest of pricks from something sharp could blow you away into a thousand pieces of rubbery scraps! One moment you’re having the orgasm of your life and the next you’re nothing more than scraps on the carpet.

And the worst part? Secretly you WANT that to happen. You’re inflated, after all. A big giant balloon! And balloons are almost always destined to be popped in some way! Maybe when you inflate your mind succumbs to the role balloons have? Maybe that’s why popping is so… desirable… when you’re in that state. That’s your purpose now. You’re a balloon. And balloons POP!

It doesn’t help that watching other people inflate and pop turns you on. Something about the way they moan and bite their lips and roll their eyes back as the pleasure overwhelms their senses just gets you going. It looks like so much fun, so why not try? Why not give in to the desires and sensations?

So you try it out for yourself and wouldn’t you know it? It feels AMAZING! So you go a little further… and a little further… each time testing your limits, getting bigger and bigger…

You inflate with your friends, your significant others. You get red in the face as you watch them fall into the ballooning lust as well. You moan as you watch them creak and groan. You bite your lip as they pleasure themselves in front of you, all big and inflated and squeaking and rubbery. And you orgasm as they inevitably explode in your face.

And that’s where you find yourself. Body swollen with air, bouncing on the ceiling of their now abandoned apartment. Each ripple of air gusting around you from their boom sending quivers and ripples of pleasure across your taut rubbery skin. Their screams of pleasure echoing in your mind as you replay their explosion again and again. You’re too far gone now, you’re too lost in the sauce!

The corner of that kitchen cabinet is looking mighty sharp. There’s just enough space above it to rub your bloated body against it…

One little prick…

After all, it’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it? Balloons should pop, right? And currently you’re a really horny balloon yearning for release.

So what’re you waiting for?

Pop yourself.