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by The Common Loon
Jim threw open those familiar doors, and immediately went pale.
It had been the perfect romance. A happenstance meeting on Jim's favorite beach had brought him together with Andrea the first time; they had hit it off instantly. The next few months did not disappoint any idyllic fantasy courtship Jim had ever imagined. They were as inseparable and infatuated as any young couple-- they were never seen apart by anyone but their immediate family. But there was something about their togetherness that was both inexplicable and undeniable, and it made everyone else incredibly jealous.
If only they knew what it was, they would be much more green. It was what brought them together and helped bond them to each other that made their relationship so special: when Jim had met Andrea on the beach that day, she had blown up a big, pink balloon ever so slowly and sensually in the lounge chair next to him, and given it to a group of kids whose beach ball had been ruined. Whatever it had been for, Jim had decided, it was the most awesomely arousing spectacle he had ever witnessed.
For Jim, balloons had always been bittersweet objects: since his childhood he had found them irresistibly alluring in private. The mere sight of a tight balloon, however, had always been powerful enough to set his heart pounding and palms sweating, since the horribly sharp, deceptively loud sound of a popping balloon still disturbed him, enough to keep him away from any public situation involving balloons.
So it did not escape Jim's observance that any stunning woman that could produce a balloon out of her purse at random and inflate and tie it so expertly and carefully might just be his soul mate.
Andrea, on the other hand, had been around balloons all her life with no ill effects: her family business had been a party store downtown, at which she and her older sister Shelley had each worked since they were sixteen. Her younger brother had harbored an insatiable love for the balloons his sisters would bring home, and he scarcely was seen without a tight, shiny balloon between his hands, with the possible exception being when he held a limp, uninflated balloon in his tiny hand to solicit its inflation from Andrea. Leukemia had cut his life tragically short, however, and his memory in Andrea's heart deepened her attachment and sentiment to balloons. The family renamed their store in his memory, and it had become a tribute to his life and even more of an honor and privilege to work there for Andrea and her sister.
Like Jim, Andrea had discovered in her adolescence a sexual attraction to balloons, to the point where she had spent most of her time at the party store working in the back room inflating balloon after balloon away from the prying eyes of the local boys who would doubtless have noticed her erect nipples protruding through the thin, short blouses she enjoyed wearing to exhibit her flat, toned stomach and her full, more-than-adequately-sized young breasts. She was a knockout, for sure, and if it weren't for her demanding physics-major schedule in college and, later, her busy work schedule at the party shop, she might have gone through and systematically broken the hearts of every eager young man in town. What boyfriends she did have had been disappointments, both to her and to the boyfriends, who without exception had eschewed a meaningful relationship with her and expected her undying physical love. In fact, no man had ever been interested in her for anything but her body, and she was always expert enough to sense this before she gave them any share of it. After a string of sporadic, meaningless relationships, Andrea had decided to save her body for a man that was truly committed to her, and her balloons became the only thing she would share her bed with.
So the day she took a chance and sat her lounge chair next to Jim on the beach and blew up a pink 16" Qualatex for those forlorn toddlers (she always kept track of balloon brands and sizes in her mind, and had become skilled in instantly recognizing any balloon she saw) it didn't escape her note when Jim had had a large, obvious erection showing through his retrospectively too-small Speedo. She had noticed, and immediately thought that a man who would be so aroused and affected by a balloon might just be the man she's looking for.
Andrea was right, and so was Jim. They had hit it off instantly, and it was at a decorating job for a country club the very next day that their suspicions were confirmed, and they confessed their mutual attractions especially for each other, but also for balloons. As they prepared a balloon drop bag for the country club, they had related their balloon experiences to each other. Jim, the careful, deliberate ballooner, was bewitched with the way Andrea, the hardened balloon professional, fearlessly blew all her balloons to the perfect size and tightness every time: with a bulging neck beginning to form, big enough to be dangerously over its rated size and tight enough that the slightest touch of a finger would be rewarded with a playful hollow squeak. He was especially in awe at her technique when she inflated a balloon by mouth (an inflator and helium tank were her usual tools at work): she would confidently blow breath after breath into her balloon, her chest rising and falling rhythmically and giving onlookers a thrilling view of her round breasts. She would quickly have her balloons past their rated size (both the one between her lips and the two straining inside her bra). The tightening neck would approach her pink lips, the balloon becoming glassy and unbelievably firm. At the right instant, at which one more puff would be too many, she would tuck the straining balloon under her slender arm, slightly displacing her left breast into her right and deepening her cleavage peeking over the v-neck of whatever she wore. She would invariably let a gasp of air out of the balloon, giving her enough of its neck to tie and ensuring it was not so tight that an errant breeze might pop it, and she would tie the huge, shiny balloon with one effortless motion. It was a practiced routine, one she rarely practiced in public to spare those like Jim who might not appreciate an unexpected pop. Andrea was by now savvy enough to know the point of no return of the balloons she blew, but the occasional defect in a balloon made her wary of blowing in public. At work, the quality of the balloons she used was such that the only pops were caused by accidental overinflation, which had from time to time supplied stress relief after work for her and her sister, and once in a while for Andrea alone, at her apartment when the neighbors were away. It seemed a waste of balloons to her most of the time, however, and was reserved only for certain circumstances.
Jim, on the other hand, was so intrepid and meticulous in his inflation that Andrea had giggled as she watched the first time that day at the country club: always two puffs, then hold up to the light and check for defects, then another couple puffs at a time, constantly checking the size of the balloon's drip point opposite the neck, and checking for changes in the balloon's shape. At the first sign of a bulging neck, Jim let a little air out and carefully tied a knot in his balloon, with sweating palms, racing pulse, and more often than not, crowded shorts. The combination of the two was a balloon inflation machine, as Andrea's expertise and Jim's precision combined to produce not even one pop that night. When the drop bag was filled with tight, bulging, transparent balloons, they had hoisted it to the ceiling and embraced in a passionate kiss of which neither wanted to let go.
So the surprise when Jim proposed to Andrea six months later was not that they had decided to get married, but that it had taken a full six months for them to do so.
Preparations were in full swing shortly thereafter, and the wedding was spectacularly appointed: the church was beautifully decorated, the bridesmaids wore their pink dresses without complaint, and Andrea looked spectacular in her white satin gown, which was seductively low-cut and wrapped around her back, leaving her firm, flat midriff and sexy narrow bellybutton exposed. Jim had never seen her as beautiful since the day they first met, when her bikini and balloon had been the same soft pink as that of the bridesmaids' dresses. They had never before been as in love as they were as they repeated their wedding vows, and never before kissed as passionately as they did when instructed by the priest to do so.
The plans for the wedding reception had been secretive, and while Andrea's sister Shelley and Jim's brother Andy went about them, the bride and groom were instructed to be out of earshot. Each knew their siblings inside and out, but while Andrea's balloon obsession was no secret to her sister (who had confided that she sometimes felt the same way), Jim's fetish was never known to Andy... while he was aware that Jim had preferred not to decorate with balloons at home when they were little, he chalked it up to machismo-- after a certain age, Andy dismissed, boys outgrow balloons. Shelley was responsible for reception reservations and decorations (for which she used the party store's corporate discount), and Andy handled the catering. That was all Jim and Andrea knew about the reception: not where it was, what they'd be eating, or anything else.
The limousine driver took the newlyweds where he was instructed, brushing dry rice off the shoulders of his tuxedo here and there and checking his rear-view mirror to watch the pink shoes and pink balloons flutter, tied to the limo's little wing, under the "Just Married" sign.
Jim and Andrea felt the limo stop, and opened the smoked-out doors to see at last where their wedding reception would be. To their surprise, they found themselves in front of the very country club they had decorated on their second date six months previous. Jim and Andrea looked at each other knowingly, and embraced each other once again. Jim's arms wrapped around her waist, and they leaned into each other. He felt her satin-coated breasts press against his lapels, and traced the seductive curves of her hips on her wedding dress with his hands slowly, ending up with his palms flat on her firm, round butt, as he felt her hands do the same. The rest of the wedding party hadn't arrived yet, and they held each other in the driveway until it did.
Finally it was time to go inside. Jim threw open those familiar doors, and immediately went pale.
But what caught Jim's eye the most, and drained the color from his face the quickest, was what he saw when he looked up. There it was, the largest balloon drop bag Jim had ever seen, much larger than the one he and Andrea had used when they had decorated this hall. It was bursting at its seams with what must have been a couple thousand tight 16-inch balloons, all glassy and with bulgy, too-long necks indicating that they, too, were bursting at their seams. The net was positioned directly above the dance floor. For his part, Jim had never in his life seen so many balloons, and the thought of all those tight, shimmering balloons cascading down on to a crowd that would instantly pop those that hadn't popped spontaneously before being dropped was too much for Jim to handle.
Andrea couldn't believe it either-- her sister had really outdone herself. She felt Jim's palm in hers begin to moisten, and as she noticed the balloons in the giant drop bag on the ceiling she instantly sensed Jim's distress. She tapped him on the shoulder and looked understandingly into his eyes.
There it was again, Jim noted, that sparkle in Andrea's eyes, that quick glimmer that had so caught his fancy the day he met her. Its usual effect was to melt his heart, and it had always succeeded when he and Andrea looked into each other's eyes in the past. Now, it was a gentle reminder of her compassion, and Jim mustered a smile.
Andrea noticed Jim's obviously nervous smile, and draped her arms around his shoulders slowly to calm his nerves.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'm going to go have a talk with my sister. Why don't you get us a couple glasses of champagne and grab our seats at the head table? I'll be right there." She gave Jim a slow kiss on the cheek and withdrew to talk to her sister. Jim took the groom's seat at the head table under a spiral arch of crystal-clear balloons.
Andrea found Shelley next to the wall, carefully fixing a balloon arrangement that had become tangled with the one next to it.
"Hey Shell?" Andrea inquired innocently. Shelley turned to face the bride, leaving some balloon ribbons still tangled.
"Oh, hey, sis! I was going to ask you, what do you think of this place, eh? I don't want to fish for compliments, but this is the biggest job I've ever tackled and I'm so glad it turned out this good..."
"Oh, definitely!" gushed Andrea. She was on thin ice now... Shelley was proud of her work, and rightly so, so how could she put this?
Shelley sensed that Andrea's pause indicated she was not done. "But?" She inquired tentatively.
"I thought we agreed not to do the drop," sighed Andrea plaintively, gesturing at the drop bag on the ceiling as though to eliminate any confusion. She looked into Shelley's eyes and hoped she hadn't hurt her feelings.
That hope was dashed as Shelley burst out laughing. She elbowed Andrea on her bare stomach. "Yeah," she said with a wink, "just like we 'agreed' not to do a four-layer wedding cake." Shelley gestured at that four-layer cake, as if to eliminate any confusion. "Come on, Andrea, you only get married once, right? Besides, I got everything at cost, and did it all the traditional way, the way our family's done drops for decades," she gushed. "Make 'em big to get the gig, blow 'em tight to do it right!" Shelley recited the credo that served as a balloon drop instruction manual for the party shop. "Plus," she went on, "I even double-stuffed some heart balloons inside the clear ones. Isn't that cool?"
Suddenly, as if on cue, one of the balloons in the drop bag popped brightly, the explosion echoing loudly off the walls and silencing all the room's conversations long enough to hear the pink shreds of rubber hit the dance floor below. Andrea scarcely jumped herself, but she immediately thought of Jim. She excused herself from her sister, who went back to straightening balloon ribbons, and jogged briskly back to the head table, sat next to Jim in the bride's seat, and without a word leaned over and cupped her hand around the back of Jim's head. The back of his neck was damp with sweat, and the look of distress in his eyes was apparent. Andrea buried his head in her shoulder and held him against the smooth satin covering her chest. "You okay, Jim?" She offered. Getting no answer, she continued. "I'm sorry, honey, I told Shelley not to do this, but she thought I was joking. Just tell me if you need my help tonight. You know I'm here for you, so just let me know if you need anything. Whatever happens, I'm not leaving your side. Okay?"
Jim slowly lifted his head from Andrea's shoulder. "Thank you," was all he could think to say.
The caterers came around with soups for the first course, and soon Jim had successfully drowned his anxiety in Cream of Broccoli; the half-glass of Korbel hadn't hurt either. By the time the swordfish was distributed for the main course, Jim had nearly forgotten all about the massive, tightly-inflated balloons thirty feet above the dance floor. As he and Andrea finished the last of their tirami su, one fork was heard ringing against a champagne flute, then two, then a chorus. Sheepishly, Jim stood and raised his glass. Andrea did the same.
"Thanks to everyone who made this wedding possible," Jim started, unsure, "thanks to everyone who made this wedding special," he said, indicating his brother and sister-in-law on either side of the head table, "and all the thanks in the world to--"
Another sudden bang went off from the drop bag, echoing just as loudly as before around the room. Several guests jumped visibly, most notably the groom, who nearly spilled what was left in his champagne glass in a reflexive effort to shield his ears. Andrea slipped an arm around Jim's shoulder and stroked his arm gently. Jim finished his sentence, wavering slightly. "Thanks most of all to my wonderful wife, Andrea." He fought to rein in his emotion, but found himself overwhelmed. Andrea hugged him close once again. All eyes were fixed on them.
"Salud!" toasted Andrea and finally everyone took a drink, applauded the happy couple and sat back down, marveling at the sheer love Jim must feel for Andrea that would make him so choked up.
A couple hours and several glasses of bubbly later, the dance floor was the place to be. The rhythmic, melodic strains of music brought the guests and the bridesmaids and Jim and Andrea onto the expanse of checkered hardwood, framed in by hundreds of balloons and situated underneath thousands more. Jim tried his hardest not to think about that fact, instead concentrating on how smooth the satin was over the hip and back of Andrea's dress under his hand, how soft her palm was in his other, and how skilled she was at dancing. Jim didn't mind her leading; after all, Jim scarcely knew the first thing about how to dance.
Shelley and Jim's brother Andy, the maid of honor and best man, were dancing with each other, Jim could see. Soon they had maneuvered their way through the sea of dancing couples and were dancing right next to the bride and groom.
"Sorry about those pops," Shelley said loudly to Andrea over the music. "A little too tight, I guess." Jim cringed inwardly. He had done his best to forget all those balloons above him, and Shelley had brought the memory back as vividly as if it had all happened just seconds ago.
"You never did know when to stop blowing," Andrea retorted with a laugh. "That's what makes me a better decorator!" Andrea was having fun; it was obvious to Jim this was a major point of contention between the two co-worker sisters. Shelley stuck out her tongue defiantly and faced back at Andy before dancing with him back into the crowd. Jim looked into Andrea's eyes and raised one of his eyebrows quizzically. "She and I are each other's biggest rivals," Andrea explained. "I guess that's part of why she went so nuts decorating this place. It sure is a lot bigger than any decorating job I've ever done."
"Yeah, well," Jim stammered, "you could've done better than this." He looked fondly into her eyes as they mysteriously flashed in the light, that same glitter that always melted his heart, and she brought his hand back around to his shoulder and her other hand around his back, and what once was a dance turned into a snug embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed back and forth to the music.
After a few minutes, the smooth voice of Nat King Cole came from the speakers, and as "Embraceable You" played on, every couple on the dance floor slowed down. Jim tensed his neck to keep his head from sliding off the silky smooth satin on Andrea's shoulder, while the shoulder pads of his tuxedo provided a comfortable rest for Andrea's head. Andrea pulled Jim tighter into her as they dreamily floated back and forth, sometimes in time with the music. As they danced over to the edge of the dance floor, Jim opened his eyes a crack and found himself face-to-face with a shiny white 16" balloon, part of the dance floor's decor. Andrea hadn't noticed how far back she'd gone dancing; she was in a happy daze: the champagne, music, and the man she loved had combined to dull her senses and relax every one of her muscles until she felt Jim's hand pulling back on her shoulder blade. She snapped out of her reverie long enough to realize how close they were to the bouquets of balloons along the edge of the dance floor and move back towards the center, then she was back to her blissful oblivion. Jim had noticed how relaxed she was as he gently massaged her smooth back and shoulders as they danced. He closed his eyes again for a time, drinking in this experience, the music, and the woman he loved in his arms.
As the song drew to an end, Jim lazily peered out from underneath his eyelids to see his cousin Mark sitting at one of the tables outside the dance floor, surrounded by a group of five small kids-what relation were Mark's kids to me again? Jim pondered as he watched them all amuse each other as only toddlers can. As Mark stood up from the table and stepped toward the dance floor, Jim closed his eyes again as he and Andrea twirled in a slow circle as the last chord of the song struck. Jim opened his eyes again, his head still on Andrea's soft shoulder, and instantly saw what it was his cousin had stood up to do.
Mark returned to the table of tots with a tight, twelve-inch pink balloon he had snagged from amongst the dance floor bouquets, ostensibly bringing it back for the kids. Jim's six-year-old-niece, was it?-took the balloon's ribbon and wrapped it around her hand until the knot was between her fingers, the balloon waving back and forth in front of her face. And before Jim had time to react, the other children at the table started grabbing for the pink orb, clamoring over it as only toddlers can. The girl pulled it back and away from the group in an attempt to protect her balloon, but by the time the music started up again, her little brother had sneaked behind her.
Andrea suddenly felt Jim's shoulder and neck muscles tighten. She pushed back from him to look into his eyes, which were closed tightly in fear. "Honey?" she inquired.
As Jim opened his eyes he immediately looked back over to the group of kids, just in time to see the little boy grab hold of the pink balloon's body on either side with both hands and lean back with all his weight in an attempt to wrench it free from his sister's grasp. The ribbon tightened around her hand and she let out a scream as only a toddler can, and as Jim watched in paralyzed horror as the pink balloon suddenly disappeared with a muffled "thud" that Jim could barely hear, given the distance away and the volume of the music on the dance floor. As the little boy landed hard on the floor, poetic justice having been served, Jim blinked in disbelief. He had expected to hear a much bigger bang, the kind that had pierced the silence as he was toasting before; the music had made it barely noticeable! Jim relaxed his muscles again, and he caught Andrea's gaze.
"What is it?" She asked, having not noticed the balloon popping at all.
"Oh... nothing," sighed Jim, finding himself surprisingly calm after what he had just witnessed. Maybe he could handle a balloon popping here and there tonight... "Say, when do all those loons up there get released?" Jim inquired, feeling a little more confident in his ability to withstand that ordeal.
"Well, Shell didn't say exactly..." Andrea noted with a regretful look. "All she said was that it was during the last song before the bouquet toss. Don't worry, it'll be pretty obvious which song that is." She cupped her hand to Jim's cheek. "Remember, whatever you want from me, just say the word. I'm at your command." Jim smiled at her corny remarks and the two went back to dancing, chin on shoulder, as if they were the only couple on the floor.
Andrea, too, was so at ease in Jim's embrace that she felt herself nearly drifting off to sleep several times. A perpetual contented smile was fixed on her face, a wider grin than usual. The music that propelled all the dancers around the floor was distant in her ears and her eyes were half-open, allowing her other three senses to pick up the slack. Jim's muscled neck supported the inside of her elbows as she leaned into him, feeling the lapels of his tuxedo press into her airy breasts from outside their satin covering, his cummerbund tickling the smooth flesh of her exposed stomach, and his hips pressing back against the weight with which she leaned into him with hers. The faint aroma of cologne wafted into her nostrils, mixing with the perfume she had put on. This experience was far more intoxicating than the bubbly she had had earlier, and she found herself unable to locate any muscle on her body that was not more relaxed than any massage could have made it.
A slight crackling emanated from the speakers at the corners of the dance floor, and a voice followed that Jim and Andrea immediately recognized as that of Shelley. She was standing at the head of the dance floor on a chair to achieve maximum visibility, and as soon as she had the attention of everyone on the floor (which was not difficult anyway, since her pink bridesmaid dress fit as perfectly as if she had provided the pattern), she continued.
"Everyone, to sing this last song, let me introduce to you..." she said dramatically, "Andy! Come on up here!" The best man feigned being caught off guard, pretending to be preoccupied with eating a small slice of wedding cake, but once all eyes were on him, there was no way out. He reluctantly put down his small plate and fork and walked over to Shelley's side as an accordion began to play out of the speakers.
Jim cringed; not only did he know how bad a singer his brother was, he also knew exactly what song would follow-had to follow! His father had sung it at his uncle's wedding, as did his uncle at his father's, so he'd been told. It was part of his Italian heritage, supposedly, but it was so horribly cheesy... Jim groaned audibly to Andrea as the accordion finished its introduction.
"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie..." started Andy, about a half step above the intended melodic line, "that's... amore!" A cheer went up over the crowd, and some of the guests began to sing along.
Suddenly Jim remembered the other reason he was to dread this song: it was the last song before the bouquet toss-the cue, Jim recalled, for the balloon drop from the ceiling. He whirled Andrea around to face him and clapped his hands on her arms, looking her in the eye. His relaxation gone, he tensed up and began to feel queasy. "This is it, honey," he breathed ominously. Andrea stared blankly for a second before realizing what Jim was getting at.
"Oh no... you're right," she said with a hint of alarm in her voice. She took a frenzied look around the dance floor to locate her sister Shelley, the decorator-orchestrator, but to no avail: she was nowhere to be seen on the floor. Her eyes returned to Jim's. "Jim, it's all up to you. If you want to step out, go ahead; I'll come with you. If you decide to stay, stay; I'll be here with you no matter what happens. Understand?"
Jim swallowed hard. What could he do? It would look too conspicuous for the groom to sneak out during this important song, but he knew he had Andrea's permission to do so... How could he withstand those thousands of tight balloons, which had already established the sheer magnitude and volume of their bursts earlier, showering down on these dozens of people, all eager to summarily destroy them? He knew it would be terribly hard to stay, but he decided against his usual judgment that it would be even harder to escape and explain himself to his guests later. Besides, he had withstood a couple pops already tonight, with only momentary ill effects...
"When the food makes you drool just like pasta fazool, you're in love," continued Andy and twenty other guests.
No. It was crazy. He couldn't stay, not this close to thousands of large, taut balloons, popping each way he looked. It was out of the question. Excuse, excuse... How could he explain sneaking out? What could he possibly say? Butterflies, cold feet... nothing seemed adequate to justify his leaving the dance floor during this last song. Latching onto the first explanation that came to his mind, he resolved to tell Andrea he wanted to leave. He gathered his thoughts and looked Andrea in the eye resolutely.
Jim opened his mouth to explain to Andrea his decision to skip out when all of a sudden, he heard several dull "flap" sounds as a handful of deflated rubber sacks hit the hardwood of the dance floor, the few balloons in the bag that had leaked out all their air having been released from their net. As Jim looked up in shock, he saw an impenetrable cloud of balloons slowly floating down towards him from the fifty-foot ceiling, none of which was even visible behind the mass of tightly inflated latex. A sea of pink and white and clear globes drifted downwards, wafting back and forth in the breeze to display their prominent bulging necks, each terminated with a tiny knot that seemed insufficient to hold back such pressure. Their position high above the dance floor had belied their size; they were much bigger than the usual twelve-inch balloons used in drops. In fact, they were much bigger than the sixteen inches to which they would appropriately be inflated in most other situations. Each one was at least eighteen inches wide and almost two feet in length, from the barely-visible dot at their top all the way down to the round, glistening cylindrical necks that were at least six inches long in themselves. The colors of the balloons looked abnormal; Jim recognized they were supposed to have been pink and white and clear, but the pink was a nearly transparent pale neon red, the white was a translucent glistening ivory, and the clear balloons were nearly invisible, except for the light glistening off their tight skin and the pink heart balloon inflated tightly inside each one. Jim had never seen the skin of a balloon so stretched before; the rubber took on a glistening that was clearly not healthy, and everywhere was latex stretched so thin, Jim thought, you could have read a newspaper through a pile of these balloons.
As Jim looked back down into Andrea's eyes with a look of panic, all at once he felt her arm slide up from his neck. She placed her bicep over his right ear and bent her elbow around to cover his left with her palm. Before Jim could realize what she was doing, he felt her lips suddenly press against his. She pulled her right hand down to the back of Jim's waist and pulled him toward her, at the same time leaning forward into Jim's top half. Jim was bent backwards in a passionate kiss, and he felt around with his right hand behind him until he felt the corner of a table at the edge of the dance floor. His head rested on Andrea's arm on the table as she leaned over him, her lips locked onto his, and they kissed passionately. Jim closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment, which seemed to last forever.
Meanwhile, the dance floor was havoc. Dancers grabbed at the falling balloons with both hands, and more often that not, the first gentle squeeze they applied was rewarded with a sharp BANG!
Shelley had made her way back down to the floor as the balloons she had released continued to fall. The sounds of rapidly popping balloons rang everywhere, becoming a deafening rumble as the thickest part of the cloud met the dancers' hands. Shelley ran back out onto the dance floor, eager to participate. She rescued a huge pink balloon from over the crowd and brought it over to the nearest chair. She set it down on the seat and lowered her pink satin-covered butt onto its surface. At once she let her weight drop and the balloon gave way instantly with a deafening crack. One, of course, was not enough, and she rushed back out onto the floor to dispatch those balloons that were fortunate enough to have made it to the floor with her pink high heels. A bulging white balloon bounced lazily off her head; she grabbed it on each side of its bulk and dug in her pink polished nails. The balloon burst instantly with a piercing BANG!
Next she took hold of a clear balloon, its ethereal skin separating her grasp from the pink heart balloon inside. She untied the neck carefully and put it to her lips. Her first mighty breath blew the heart balloon from its position inside the clear balloon's neck into the body of the monster. The clear balloons always stretched more, she remembered, and blew two more breaths into the balloon, each one increasingly more difficult than the last. Her hand felt the side of the balloon; it ceased to feel rubbery anymore, replacing its springiness with a hard glassy feel; it felt like a giant light bulb, with shape to match. She noticed a few of the guests staring, so she drew one last huge dramatic breath, put the balloon up to her lips, and blew as hard as she could. Immediately a shattering BANG! hit her ears, and it took her a fraction of a second to register the fact that there was no more balloon. She jumped, half from surprise, half from excitement, and quickly stabbed her heel through the pink heart that had floated to the floor from inside the doomed light bulb.
This was more fun than she'd had with balloons in a long time, she decided, and she began to feel a little slippery under the satin covering her crotch. She was out of breath for the moment and getting more turned-on by the second-she'd felt this way around balloons before, but not this intense. What she didn't tell Andrea, or anyone else for that matter, is that she'd rigged up this giant balloon drop with a bit of an ulterior motive: she knew how much pleasure Andrea got out of balloons, and had set up this occasion to explore her own reaction towards the latex toys, only to find that she, too, could be aroused by simply playing with and popping balloons. Breathless as she was, Shelley grabbed a clear balloon and hugged it to her chest, her breasts flattening out against its skin. She tightened her grip slowly until the balloon snapped itself apart with a deep BANG! Her dress, so expertly tailored before, now felt a little more crowded around her chest, her erect nipples pushing against the satin enough to make her wonder if they showed through. She felt a warmth around her inner thighs, her cotton panties clinging damply to her tickly intimates. She stepped off the dance floor and sat down on the chair she had used to burst that balloon earlier, and breathed heavily. For the first time, she could really see what Andrea got out of playing with balloons in her bedroom.
Jim, meanwhile, saw nothing but Andrea's deep blue eyes; heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing, and Andrea's; felt nothing but her body pressed against his; did nothing but hold her tightly and kiss her like never before. It was a patently arousing experience, and Jim felt a bit self-conscious of his tuxedo pants' inability to hide his lengthening organ. Andrea was sufficiently draped over him, however, to conceal his arousal, and she was leaning up against Jim enough to conceal her own. As she heard the deafening thunder of popping balloons subside to a few random bangs, then back to silence, she removed her hand from Jim's one ear and her arm from around his head, finally breaking their embrace. Jim was thunderstruck: he looked up at the ceiling, where nothing but an empty drop net remained, then back at the dance floor, where thousands of pieces of curled-up, shredded rubber were strewn about, and shot a beaming smile at Andrea, an utterly satisfied pleasure warming over him. He looked into her glimmering eyes and said the first thing that came to mind.
"Honey, I think I want to leave," he said, finishing the thought he had started before being interrupted by the thousand balloons. He laughed, and she reciprocated. "You are good," he marveled as he stood up and straightened his tuxedo jacket.
"You think that was good?" Andrea hinted seductively, placing the nail of her index finger underneath Jim's chin. "Wait till tonight," she finished, and picked up a pink balloon from the floor. She held its knot between her thumb and forefinger and twirled it around as she walked away from Jim, her hips swinging and butt tightening in the same seductive walk he'd so admired on the beach when they first met. She disappeared into the ladies' room, and Jim found a chair and collapsed into his fantasies of what was to come on their honeymoon...
It was surreal, Andrea thought as she swung open the door of the women's room with her right hand, her left containing a bulging pink balloon between her finger and thumb. She knew as soon as the balloons began to fall from the ceiling that Jim wouldn't have withstood the rapid-fire pop frenzy that was to follow; yet she still couldn't believe she had so spontaneously started kissing Jim like she had. It was a very stimulating experience, and as the popping ended and she left Jim and headed for the bathroom, she had picked up a pink balloon from the floor almost subconsciously. Andrea gently splashed cold water on her face. Jim's cousin Meghan, the only other occupant of the bathroom, straightened the straps of her dress and left, and soon after she did, she thought she could make out the sounds of squealing rubber coming from inside, followed by an unmistakable POP before Andrea finally re-emerged to toss the bouquet.
The reception continued much longer than expected; in fact, three hours after Shelley had caught and pretended to drop the bridal bouquet, guests were still sitting around the tables, idly chatting and munching on small pieces of wedding cake, of which there seemed to be a never-ending supply. The dance floor was not yet abandoned, either: music was still playing softly, and though many of the songs had already been used earlier in the afternoon, several couples still shuffled about the hardwood, or what was visible of it underneath thousands of pieces of multicolored, curled-up latex, the remnants of the earlier balloon drop. Of the countless numbers of large, impossibly tight balloons that had populated the drop net thirty feet above the floor a few hours ago, only a few remained, being carried around between the fingers of those guests who had decided to have mercy on the straining rubber globes. In particular, Andrea's eighteen-year-old cousin Ashley carried around with her a pink balloon whose overinflated size nearly obscured her svelte frame from the waist up when she held it in front of her. The guests with balloons were incredibly easy to spot from a distance, and since the balloons from the drop were so large and unwieldy, many of those who carried them around eventually set them down and forgot them. Luckily for Jim, none of the remaining balloons popped, except one whose resounding bang he barely heard from the restroom as he washed his hands.
Finally, as everyone began to file out of the country club's grand ballroom and back to their respective cars, Shelley stood at the door and distributed bouquets of 16-inch helium balloons, slightly less shiny than they had been but still big and bright, to the guests. The supply of these, too, seemed never to end, and despite the carload after carload of bubbly balloons that left through the main gates, there were still too many balloons left inside to count. Ashley, the last guest to exit the hall before Jim, Andrea, Shelley and Andy, opened the trunklid of her parents' Expedition, skipped back inside the hall, and returned carrying as many of the balloon-drop balloons as she could hold in her two hands (which due to their sheer size was only about five in each) and two bouquets of a dozen balloons tied to each wrist. Shelley had to open both of the large double doors of the hall to let her back out, and even then she had barely fit, the balloons in Ashley's hands making hollow swishing and squeaking sounds as she carefully stepped through. She stuffed the air-filled balloons in the trunk of the truck, and climbed in the back seat after struggling to fit the rest of her rubber toys through the door.
Only Shelley's car remained in the parking lot after Ashley and her parents pulled away, and the limousine was on its way back from downtown, so for the moment the bride, groom, and their siblings had nowhere to go. Shelley looked back inside the hall and grimaced slightly.
"What a mess..." she sighed. "This'll take a while to finish cleaning up. We didn't even come close to getting rid of all those balloons!"
Andrea began to chuckle, and Jim put his arm around her neck. "Serves you right," Andrea scolded mockingly. "That'll teach you to go crazy decorating like that."
"You're just jealous you don't get to stick around and help clean up. There's lots of popping left to do tonight," Shelley said slyly, winking at Andrea. She knew how much Andrea enjoyed cleaning up after balloon soirees, and on jobs together the two girls frequently popped their decorations in every way they could think of. "Pins are so boring," Shelley had said on more than one occasion, more often than not leading to a frenetic show of wanton balloon destruction by her and her sister. Shelley would go at the balloon bouquets with both hands, fingernails outstretched, and squeeze the balloons she had so painstakingly inflated and arranged while they squealed and finally detonated with loud BANGs! Andrea would usually be more creative, using brute force to hug balloons to her chest, flattening them out against her round breasts, tightening her grip slowly and watching the balloons' necks swell against their knots until they finally gave way with an incredibly sharp BANG! Once in a while, usually whenever Andrea wore a soft pair of denim shorts or cottony sweatpants, she would sit on her balloons, placing her tight, rounded backside on the latex and slowly lowering her weight onto the balloon until it fully supported her weight, then lifting her feet and bouncing on the balloon quickly and feeling it give way underneath her with an enormous deep crack, and landing on the floor with a thud that resonated up through her pelvic muscles and made her breasts jiggle inside her bra. Either way, it was naturally a very stimulating experience for Andrea, and she normally didn't continue all that long with these methods, switching over to a boring pin when she felt sexually overstimulated. It was usually after these sessions that she would take her balloon stash out of her underwear drawer at night and play, relieving all her tension and finishing what she had started.
The limousine pulled up into the parking lot. Shelley jumped in anticipation and ran over to her black Saturn and produced two suitcases from the trunk. Andrea and Jim each recognized them as their own, and looked at each other quizzically. Shelley heaved the suitcases into the limousine's trunk and bounded back over to face Andrea and Jim.
"Andy and I already packed you guys' luggage," she explained proudly. "You're all ready to go." With that, Shelley produced a pair of airline tickets she had carried back from her car and handed them to Jim and Andrea.
The bride and groom had planned to spend their honeymoon in the mountains, and in fact had already arranged a resort cabin for the week, so it came as sheer surprise when Jim and Andrea noticed the letters "HLN" on these plane tickets. In fine print underneath, Jim read their destination, and his jaw dropped.
"Honolulu?" Andrea gaped. "Where did these come from?"
Shelley giggled. "Hey, congratulations sis. You two deserve this one. And don't worry: we called that old resort in the mountains and cancelled. I trust you have no complaints?"
Andrea laughed in disbelief and looked up at Jim, whose eyes were still wide with surprise. Andrea's green eyes flashed in the evening sun, as they frequently did when she smiled as wide as she smiled now, her slim lips pushing her soft rosy cheeks up and out of the way to make room. She turned and threw her arms around Shelley, and Jim did the same to his brother Andy.
"Come on you two, let's get going... your flight leaves in an hour and a half!" Shelley said, and as she shut the limousine's door on the happy couple, she waved happily to them before they drove away.
"Hey Shelley?" Andy's voice called from the doorway to the hall. "Do you need a hand cleaning up in here?"
"Hey, how else are you going to get home?" Shelley reminded him. They had drove to the reception together and been in each other's company all night, and Shelley secretly relished the chance to watch her new brother-in-law burst some balloons. She showed him back inside and closed the large double doors behind her. She gazed around the room at the dozens of balloons still floating around the walls and tethered to the dinner tables.
Andy rubbed his hands together. "So, might as well get started," he offered. "Have you got a pin?"
"Pins are so boring," Shelley said coquettishly as she walked over to a bouquet near where Andy stood and started the cleanup off with a bang.
Their resort cabin was situated not ten yards from an expanse of white sand. Palm trees stood on either side of the two-floor cabin, and a sun porch on the beach side of the second floor containted two lounge chairs and a sturdy plastic table. Inside, the master bedroom had a vaulted ceiling that towered a full fifteen feet above the queen-size bed below. The walls in each room were decorated with colorful Polynesian fabrics and weavings, and in the corner of the bedroom stood a small potted palm tree, its fronds hanging lazily over a knitted hammock chair. A kitchen was on the first floor on the beach side, with a large sliding glass door leading out to the sand. The cabin's living room was under the bedroom, on the first floor, and was plenty large-- an ivory leather loveseat and sofa sat on a bright Polynesian area rug, with a television opposite.
Jim and Andrea couldn't decide whether to keep exploring the cabin, which seemed to turn up new rooms every time they looked, or to unpack and settle in. Finally, Andrea swung her pink duffel onto the bed, and Jim did the same with his black hard-sided suitcase.
"I can't believe they changed our honeymoon plans..." Jim pondered. "But I have to admit, this is so much better than that place back in California."
"What I can't believe is that they took the time to pack us and everything," Andrea mused. "They must've planned this a long time in advance." She unzipped her duffel and spread it apart to look inside. She took out several light cotton dresses and hung them up in the bedroom's small closet, followed by three light blouses and three pairs of short denim shorts in white, light blue, and pink.
"I hope she packed..." Andrea continued as she searched the duffel. "Oh good," she sighed as she produced three small multicolored pieces of fabric that Jim recognized as bikini bottoms. She then reached back inside and withdrew the upper halves of the bikinis and folded them, placing them on a shelf in the closet. Jim, meanwhile, pretended to unpack his luggage, but instead watched Andrea's every move, fantasizing furiously about the body parts those bikinis would be hugging. As Andrea reached back inside the dark expanse of her duffel once more, Jim finally decided to start unpacking himself. He reconsidered instantly, however, as he heard the rustling of a plastic bag from Andrea's direction.
"I can't believe this. She is so dead," Andrea laughed as a limp poly bag of twenty-four dozen balloons drooped over her grip. Jim's heart leapt into his throat. "Two gross of 18-inchers? This can't have been cheap..." Andrea continued. She removed a Post-it note from the bag's surface and read it.
"Hey sis, hope your honeymoon is going swell," Andrea read quickly and monotonously. "Thought these would help make it even more 'swell.' Enjoy! Love, Shelley."
"What could we possibly do with all those balloons?" Jim offered lamely. Of course, he knew perfectly well what those balloons portended, but he didn't want to seem too eager. Already, though, he felt a tingle in his groin and felt his boxer shorts pressing back at him soon after.
Andrea chuckled flirtatiously. "Jim," she purred. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find a use for all these." She shook the bag of latex once, then opened the bedside dresser and placed the big bag inside the drawer. She slinked over to Jim's side of the bed where he stood, busy unpacking, and took his head in her hands to stare into his eyes. A smile spread across her face, a very different smile from any Jim had ever seen her produce before. It was a very sly, immensely sexy smile, extending farther across her right cheek than her left. She raised one of her slim eyebrows, her eyes twinkling a deep green. "We'll have plenty of opportunity to make... good use out of those balloons," she breathed, and gave Jim a playful peck on the lips before letting go of him teasingly and returning to her unpacking.
Jim had just gotten off the phone with the resort catering service when Andrea got up from her lounge chair on the porch and returned to the master bedroom.
"Hey Jim?" she called across the room. "How long till the bubbly gets here, did you say?"
"They told me fifteen minutes," Jim replied. "Won't be long."
"Oh. Well, why don't you go down and check out the Weather Channel quick?" Andrea hinted.
Jim didn't get the hint, however. Instead, he walked over to Andrea and sat down on the bed in front of her and looked up at her curiously. "Why would I want to..." he started.
"Go see how... hot it is out there," Andrea hinted again, this time more obviously. Jim took the hint, and chuckling at his cluelessness, he walked downstairs and plopped down on the loveseat anxiously.
The next fifteen minutes seemed to last forever-- probably because they were actually twenty. At any rate, when the resort room service waiter knocked on the front door with a chilled bottle of Moët it was the most welcome sound in the world to Jim. He tipped the waiter generously and took the cold bucket up the stairs slowly, and pried open the bedroom door even slower to behold what lie beyond.
To Jim's surprise, he saw nothing: just an empty bedroom, the bed still tidily made and the floor empty. He was about to feel crestfallen when he noticed the bathroom door opening, and the figure of Andrea appearing in it soon after.
Her sun-bleached brown hair hung lazily around her shoulders, swept back behind her ears but falling mainly in front of her shoulders, resting on the lapels of a stunning deep blue silk nightgown. Where her hair ended, her breasts began, two pillowy spheres whose inner contours could be seen dipping down to her chest between the silky lapels. The gown was tied snugly to her firm stomach with a dark blue silky belt just above her hips, whose curves bowed out seductively and turned into smooth, tawny legs not halfway down her toned thighs. Her long legs continued downward, terminated with a pair of furry blue slippers, one of which was angled upward as Andrea's right leg stood on tiptoe. Most of all, Jim was drawn to her face, which sported the same incredibly sexy smile he'd only seen once before, the smile that dimpled her right cheek and made her eyes glimmer seductively, despite the dim lighting in the room. Jim could feel his boxers crowding up again, and his heart beating behind his eyes as his brain began to shut down, replaced by a thick, passionate fog. He was so struck, he nearly dropped the bucket of champagne.
"You... look amazing," Jim managed. Andrea stepped deliberately out of the bathroom, crossing one foot in front of the other in a walk deserving of the best runway models. Her hands, however, were behind her back out of Jim's sight.
"So, how hot is it?" Andrea said smoothly, her smile widening.
"Very," Jim breathed. He set the champagne bucket on the bedside table and opened the drawer expectantly, only to find that the giant bag of balloons was nowhere to be found. He turned around to ask Andrea. "Hey, where are the..."
Jim's eyes were met with a tight, shiny transparent dark blue balloon whose bulging round body and short neck ended between Andrea's fingers. The balloon swayed back and forth as she held its knot. Its color nearly matched her silk gown perfectly. "Don't worry," Andrea intimated, "They're not lost." She tossed the big balloon onto the hammock chair under the palm tree, pulled back the covers of the bed slightly, and sat at the head of the bed. As Jim walked over to her, she pulled the bedspread completely off, and there on top of the sheets was a huge pile of latex in every color Jim could think of. She patted the bed next to her, indicating to Jim that he should sit next to her. Jim, of course, obliged.
"Jim, why don't you get more comfortable? We've got our work cut out for us," Andrea purred. "We've got six days here, and two gross of balloons. That makes... what? 48 balloons per day. Let's get cracking."
Jim stepped out of his trousers as fast as he could and threw his shirt into the corner under the hammock chair and its balloon occupant. In only his boxer shorts, he returned to the bed and sat facing Andrea across the pile of uninflated rubber. She had already started puffing deeply into a white balloon. Her right hand was placed on the side of its massive body to check for tightness as she blew breath after breath into the monster, which was now almost twenty inches long. A neck started to form, and with her next puff it grew three inches toward her lips. She took the balloon out of her mouth, stretched the neck a few times, then tucked the balloon under her arm against her left breast, pushing it against her right and showing Jim even more curvy cleavage between her lapels. She let out a short gasp of air from the balloon and tied it quickly, the knot snapping back to the balloon's neck with a boing. She grasped the balloon on each side of its bulk and tossed it to Jim. He caught the giant pear-shaped globe and regarded it gingerly, as if expecting it to pop at any moment. He felt its skin, stretched thin and at the same time both springy and tight. His boxer shorts did little to conceal his lengthening member, and Andrea giggled softly from across the bed.
"Like that?" Andrea inquired. "That's what a balloon should be like. That's what we're shooting for. Now you try."
Jim tossed the balloon to the floor next to the bed and shifted his position on the bed, spreading his legs out and moving closer to Andrea. Andrea, meanwhile, sat cross-legged, giving Jim a view under her gown, allowing him to see the silky blue panties she wore, way up between the very tops of those perfect tanned legs. Jim's boxers tightened around his crotch as he selected a balloon from the pile and started blowing.
This balloon was a dark red. After a minute of careful, deliberate breaths, Jim had gotten it to a decent size, but the neck between his fingers was still uninflated and the balloon was still soft. He took it out of his mouth and examined it, then looked over at Andrea for approval. Instead, she playfully scowled at him.
"You think that's full?" She said. "Keep going, you're not there yet."
Jim reluctantly continued, adding three more deep breaths to the balloon. It was finally teardrop-shaped, so he took it out of his mouth again and began to tie it. Andrea sighed. "No, no, no... Jim, that's still not big enough. Compare it to mine," she said, and reached down to the floor to retrieve the white balloon she had expertly inflated. Indeed, hers was bigger in every direction than Jim's. Jim looked at Andrea with an intimidated look in his eyes. Andrea sensed his fright, and slid forward on the bed to cozy up to him. "Trust me on this, Jim. You know I would never tell you to do anything I didn't think was safe for you."
Jim shook his head. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he trusted his wife. But when it comes to balloons, trust just isn't enough, he decided. He began to tie off the balloon again, but was cut short when Andrea grasped his fingers with her free hand, the other holding the huge white balloon.
"Jim, honey," Andrea said, dropping her sexy guise ever so slightly, "You have to trust me on this one." She kissed Jim lightly on the cheek, and simultaneously her hand moved from his fingers to his inner thigh. Jim twitched slightly with sexual tension, and in an instant he reconsidered.
He put the balloon back up to his mouth and gave it one more deep breath. He was rewarded with the balloon getting much fuller. He glanced over at Andrea, who with an encouraging look told him to keep going. One more breath, and the balloon's huge spherical body moved away from Jim's face by a couple inches, a neck forming to separate them. He looked over at Andrea again, who gave Jim a playful thumbs-up. Jim let out a little air from the balloon as Andrea had, and tied the glistening red globe off. He set it down on the bed next to Andrea's white balloon, and the two matched in size. Jim's heart was racing now, and he could feel it in every extremity of his body.
Andrea looked fondly at Jim. "See? I knew you could handle that," she said encouragingly, before transforming back into the sex kitten she had been when she emerged from the bathroom. "I think that deserves a reward," she purred slowly. Andrea stood up beside the bed and turned her back to Jim. She untied the belt of her nightgown and let it fall to the floor. Jim was introduced to the back strap of a silky blue bra and the back side of the blue panties he had seen earlier, flowing from just above her hips down across her round butt and tucking underneath her at the top of her lithe legs. As she turned around, Jim could feel his boxers twitch. Her front side was even more arousing, her round shoulders and soft brown hair topping off a perfect upper body, full, airy breasts that seemed to defy gravity hidden for the moment behind blue satin, a flat, tan stomach and narrow, sexy bellybutton, and the blue panties that slid down from her hips to her crotch and tucked underneath her, high up between her long bare legs.
She sat back down on the bed and tossed her head once to flip her long hair behind her, and picked up another balloon. As she breathed life into the balloon, Jim fixed his eyes on her breasts, which swelled and pressed against her bra, spilling over the top edge of their blue satin with each breath, small eraser-sized nipples beginning to show through. Her left hand supporting the balloon in her mouth, she reached down with her right and laid it lightly over the smooth, shiny blue satin covering her crotch, tucking her fingers underneath her as she blew into the balloon resolutely. In thirty short seconds, the balloon was tight and straining, and she tied it off the same way as before. Jim picked up a balloon and blew it up as she began on another, and soon the room was filled with four dozen big, tight balloons, each at least eighteen inches in width and sporting a tight neck at least three inches long.
"That's 48," Andrea said finally, and grabbed handfuls of uninflated balloons from the bed and put them back in the dresser drawer. She then stood up, gathered armfuls of huge balloons from the floor, and tossed them onto the bed, where a few of them bounced back to the floor. Jim sat on the edge of the bed as Andrea once again turned her back to him.
This time, she unbuckled her blue satiny bra and pulled her satin panties down around her ankles. Jim found himself unable to take his eyes off her perfect butt, round in all the right places and smooth as the balloons that surrounded him. Unable, that is, until Andrea turned around. Her breasts finally liberated, they swelled slightly and jiggled lazily up and down as she shifted her weight. Her pert nipples were surrounded by dime-sized, light red areolas, and her breasts, Jim couldn't help but think, were as firm, round, and airy as the balloons that surrounded him. Andrea slid her hands down her hips and Jim rapidly shucked his boxer shorts. His stiff member twitched to an upright position, lengthening another half inch. Jim's erection was almost painful, and he had to breathe slowly to avoid climaxing. Andrea, meanwhile, began to feel a warmth behind her ears and between her legs. She stepped to the foot of the bed.
Jim laid back at the head of the bed, pushing several balloons aside. Jim situated one foot in each corner of the foot of the bed as Andrea slinked over to the bedside. She turned her back to Jim and bent over at the waist, taking her time in picking up two balloons in each hand off the floor by their knots. Jim, too, leaned over to the opposite side of the bed and grabbed two big balloons off the floor, placing them on the bed between his ankles, never taking his eyes off Andrea as she gave him the best view yet of her shapely legs and soft, toned butt. Finally, she turned around and climbed onto the bed, straddling Jim with one knee on each side of his hips and two balloons still in each hand. Her soft stomach brushed against Jim's erection, sending shock waves down its length and up Jim's spine. Jim could feel a warmth on his thighs as Andrea spread her knees until her muff laid lightly on top of Jim's legs. Jim groaned softly with sexual excitement, earning a sexy look from Andrea, her deep green eyes becoming glassy and flashing brilliantly in the soft light of the bedroom.
Andrea let one balloon fall from her right hand onto Jim's rippled stomach. It was a dark red balloon, the one that Jim had inflated timidly at the beginning. It was big, but was not as tight as most of the others, and had a shorter neck than any others Andrea was holding. She turned its bulk around so the knot faced directly up at Jim's face. It rolled slightly back and forth on Jim's stomach, and he could feel it tickling lightly. Sweat beads formed on his brow as Andrea continued.
Andrea, too, had begun to perspire on her face and arms, and could feel a dull ache in her breasts and an electricity deep within her pelvis that spurred her on. She took another balloon from between her fingers, this time a bright transparent yellow, and set it behind her on the bed. Her pulse quickening and face beginning to flush red, she placed her hands, each of which still had a big balloon's knot between two fingers, on the top of Jim's hips. Slowly, she slid her hands up Jim's sides and began to lean over him. When her hands reached Jim's shoulders, she settled down slightly until she felt the giant red balloon on top of Jim's stomach press lightly into hers. Her breasts hanging down like two tight balloons from her chest, she leaned over to kiss Jim, feeling her pulse in her hot ears.
Jim, awash with sexual excitement, did his best not to care about the balloon being squashed on his stomach or the two tighter, bigger balloons next to his ears between Andrea's fingers. Instead, he kissed Andrea's full lips passionately and reached up to caress her back, from its taut shoulder muscles down to its shapely lumbar curve and lower, running his hands slowly across her firm cheeks, which pointed at the ceiling, hovering over Jim's never-ending member seductively. He could now feel Andrea's crotch warmly, suspended just inches above his ultra-sensitive penis. For now, though, he simply kissed her with all his strength, a kiss that seemed to last forever.
Andrea could feel the balloon squishing underneath her bellybutton, and moved rhythmically up and down, feeling it stretch at her skin and bulge out along its entire perimeter. By now, tiny beads of sweat dripped from the ends of her hair and the slight brush of Jim's long hardon on her fuzzy muff was driving her wild. Finally she parted her lips from Jim's and sat back up, clutching the two balloons in her hands to her chest and feeling the rubber squash tightly against her erect nipples. She let out a high, soft moan and pushed herself back to a kneeling position over Jim. She reached behind her and positioned her yellow balloon between her knees, then leaned forward slowly, teasingly, and slipped her nether lips around the head of Jim's penis. She rotated her hips around a couple times to feel him sliding around against her. Jim clutched at the bed to contain himself and smiled a nervous smile. Andrea, however, put the sly smile she wore earlier back on across her left cheek, her eyes half-closed, and leaned forward a little more to push herself down onto Jim's entire length. She felt as if Jim would split her in half as she slid slickly down until her crotch met Jim's. Jim exhaled forcefully in another barely-successful attempt to stem the climactic tide. Andrea spread her knees apart and lowered her butt onto the yellow balloon she had placed there for the purpose and straightened back up to an upright position. Clutching her balloons a little too roughly to her breasts, she slowly bounced up and down on the yellow balloon underneath her, Jim sliding in and out of her all the while. Raging with sexual tension, Jim reached out with both his hands to Andrea, who had begun to speed up her motions, and groaned delightfully.
Andrea took the hint and leaned back down over Jim, pressing the red balloon back into his stomach, and began to pump her hips rhythmically, pushing Jim's erect penis as far inside her as she could. Jim was sweating all over his body, and so was Andrea by now. He traced the contours of Andrea's breasts in front of him and gently regarded them in his palms, feeling their firmness and weight in his hands. Andrea resumed kissing Jim, at the same time picking up her tempo and thrusting onto Jim once every second. She felt his entire length slide in and out of her each time, from base to head, and could not get enough of the sensation of friction against the entire slippery length of her vagina. Each pump sent a wave of pure sexual pleasure from deep inside her pelvis to her tailbone and directly up her spinal cord. She began to tighten her muscles around Jim.
As Andrea thrusted still faster, Jim began to tip his hips rhythmically into hers. Between her breasts in his hands, he could see the knot of the big red balloon between them jutting out at him as Andrea continued. Jim felt every thrust of Andrea's pelvis at the core of his head, and just as he began to marvel at how he could possibly have held out until now, he heard Andrea moan softly.
Suddenly, the sound of squeaking coming from the balloon between them began to increase in volume and frequency as Andrea sped up once more, thrusting Jim's massive hardon in and out of her and bouncing up and down on the poor balloon under her stomach, feeling it bulge and stretch underneath her flat stomach. Suddenly she felt Jim's thigh muscles tense, and realized that hers were beginning to do the same.
It finally swept over Jim like a wave. All at once he felt his balls, thighs, and hips tighten immensely, and felt a wave of pleasure as never before washing over him from his crotch up his stomach and back, a warm, pure feeling of relief the likes of which he had never experienced. He wrapped his arms around Andrea's waist and pulled her down until his entire shaft disappeared inside her, and felt every contraction of his muscles as he came.
Andrea, too, was all of a sudden overwhelmed with a wave of pure pleasure, originating along the length of her vagina and radiating slowly out to her crotch and hips, then spreading down into her pelvis and moving up along her spine to her sensitive breasts. She all at once relaxed every one of her muscles that had been working so hard and felt herself tighten around Jim's erection, rhythmically, over and over. She rested herself on her elbows, propped on either side of Jim's chest, and as she felt Jim's arms around her waist, let herself fall.
BANG!
Jim could hear it clearly, and feel it clearly, and after a few blissful seconds realized what it had been. Andrea's moist stomach was now resting softly on top of his, her full breasts now squishing out against his chest, her warm, slippery crotch holding onto Jim's penis. Her eyes were locked on his in a look of sheer contentment, which to her slight surprise, was returned with an equalled look.
Jim reached behind his head and felt around with his hand until he found a moist red shard of rubber that had stuck itself to the headboard. He held it in front of his face for Andrea to see.
"Happy honeymoon, dear," he whispered slowly, and threw the shard over his shoulder to reposition his arms under Andrea's and around her back. They spent what seemed like an eternity in this embrace, before Andrea finally lifted herself off Jim, pulled herself off his shaft, and rolled over onto her back, cuddling up to Jim's side and staring happily at the ceiling.
"Happy honeymoon, Jim," she returned, sighing. They laid naked, side by side in each other's arms, for a few minutes, and just as Jim was about to slip into a blissful slumber, he heard Andrea roll onto her side to face him and felt her hand on the back of his head.
"You know," she said slyly, "we still have forty-seven balloons left..."
Jim could still smell the pungent latex of the remaining balloons strewn around the bedroom, and he felt his pulse quicken once again in his crotch. Before long, he was hard once again.
"What do you have in mind?" he asked Andrea with a raised eyebrow, teasingly.
Andrea raised an eyebrow as well, staring into Jim's eyes flirtatiously, and picked up a diamond clear balloon from the foot of the bed and held it between her hands, pressing her nails slowly into its tight skin. The giant balloon's neck bulged out against its knot as it squealed in protest, and Andrea released it from her grip to drift back to the floor.
"Ah," she breathed, waving a finger at Jim scoldingly. "You'll see when the time comes." She wrapped her hand around his member and squeezed lightly up and down once, then laid back down at Jim's side one last time. Jim draped his arm around her shoulders, she laid her head and its tickly long hair on Jim's chest, and the two newlyweds drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.
THE END... OR JUST THE BEGINNING
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