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Amy tugged at her skin-tight shirt, stretched taut over her braless breasts. Tiny details bulged out against the black garment, from the faint bumps along her areolae to her tense nipple. Even calm, they were conspicuous. Anyone would notice them. Given her height — seven feet and six inches, last she measured — she’d be fortunate if people didn’t run into them.

“You look fine, don’t worry,” Amanda chuckled from their bed.

“I mean,” Amy pivoted onto her side, studying her reflection. Her shirt didn’t even reach her hips anymore, though she couldn’t refute how it flattered her curves, despite the unnecessity, “You don’t think people will notice?”

“Babe, they always notice you. Nothing new,” Amanda said.

“Yeah,” Amy murmured and lowered her skirt so it rested at her mid-thigh. The tops of her hips peeked over, as did the lacy trim of her underwear. The specialised garment bit into her member if she moved wrong, regardless of how slight, “I dunno. There’s gotta be something bigger.” She rummaged through her wardrobe.

“We’re gonna be late,” Amanda hummed.

Amy stopped, “Ugh, fine. If someone gropes me, I’m blaming you.”

“Really?” Amanda said and hopped to her feet. She strode up to the Amazon, whose head resided an entire two feet above her own, and latched her hands onto Amy’s breasts. Her fingers dug into the soft expanse, but the shirt prevented her from experiencing their true plushness. The force sent a quiver throughout Amy’s chest, the fat mounds resembled jelly as they jiggled against the mould.

“I love you,” Amy laughed and pulled her from the ground into a strong embrace. She leaned her cheek against her girlfriend’s head and sighed at her scent, sweet and tangy with a hint of lust. Delicious, she thought.

“Alright, Miss Amazon,” Amanda leaned away, “Much as I love this, some of us actually want to be in class.”

“Fine,” Amy pouted but set her down.

“Quit whining,” Amanda said, turned away and headed out their room, “Remember, we’ve got that party tonight. And I think someone has something special planned.” She winked as she vanished from sight, rushing to her class while Amy strolled after her.

Punctuality didn’t concern Amy. College acted as a side track for her, something to keep her occupied until she decided what she wanted out of life. A desk job? Volleyball? Modelling? What indeed, she thought and stepped out from the sorority house.

Something fun. Amy met the same vague conclusion that she always did. She sat in her architecture class, cheek on her hand while she tapped her pen against paper. The professor prattled on, his words lost to her ears. People glanced her way throughout the lecture, faint murmurs sparked by her new height and tense shirt. Those in front gawked under her skirt at the daunting bulge of her cock.

“Finally,” Amy huffed once she crouched under the door, legs sailing across the hard floor.

“Tough class?” Amanda asked, breathless.

“No,” Amy said and shortened her strides, “Just thinking about the future.”

“Oh, honey no,” Amanda chuckled.

“I’m serious,” Amy said, though her resolve cracked with laughter.

“There’s nothing to think about right now,” the shorter girl assured. She has a point, Amy thought with a physical shrug. Modelling agencies the world over were begging to sign her, and volleyball teams tripped head over heel for her membership. Three more years of college laid out before her, if she wanted to graduate that is.

Amanda pulled on her hand, bringing her attention back to the dark redhead. They stood in the second floor hallway of the main building, where most of the unremarkable facilities were located, outside the cafeteria doors. A sign read ‘banquet day — help yourself’. Amy blinked at the sight. She wouldn’t have thought she could be so caught up in her own thoughts for so long, though her enhanced height might’ve played a part.

“Wow, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?”

“Guess so,” Amy mumbled, “Maybe I’m just tired?”

“Can’t imagine why,” Amanda turned her eyes skyward.

“Oh, yeah,” Amy grinned and leaned down, pressing her face close to the gorgeous profile of her lover, “Doesn’t have anything to do with you riding me all of last night. Definitely nothing to do with cumming five times in a row. Or being woken up to you blowing me.”

“Glad you get it,” Amanda pecked her on the lips.

“Uh ah,” Amy shook her head and returned the kiss, then deepened it. She raised Amanda in her arms once more. Their lips conformed together, wet smacks and pops echoed in Amy’s mind as they separated and reunited. The Amazonian futa slid her tongue past Amanda’s welcoming lips, tasting hers in turn. A trickle of saliva leaked from their union and flowed down Amy’s chin, as did her desire. It meandered through her body, lighting everything on fire.

She pushed Amanda against a wall. The shorter futa wrapped her legs around the amazon’s waist, holding her tight. Amy groaned deep in her throat, heart Bakırköy travesti pulsating as blood flowed to her cock, now constricted by her panties and skirt. Her hands clung to Amanda’s voluptuous ass, fingers deep in her curves and savouring the texture as she massaged the cheeks. Gentle undulations rolled through the small futa’s body against Amy’s daunting one.

The college walls and passing students swirled and faded into the aether. At the back of her mind, Amy knew they were there, watching in blatant desire. She didn’t care. Every flick of her tongue against Amanda’s, every drop of spit they shared, every ounce of desire boiling within her crotch seared away her worries. This made her happy.

She loved modelling, rather, she loved showing off her body. Volleyball made her blood pump and set her competitiveness on high. But neither scratched the surface of her time with Amanda. It could be a passing romance, the kind her parents mentioned. It could end in failure.

Amy moaned against her girl’s lips. A fresh stream of spit overflowed from their mouths. In the end, it wouldn’t matter, Amy thought. She loved this futa and, for the moment, little else mattered. Hardness pulsed against her stomach where Amanda’s crotch resided. Heat flowed from it, into her own strenuous bulge, pushed tight against her clothes. She drove her hands under Amanda’s shorts to grip her ass, skin on skin.

“So soft,” Amy breathed and silenced herself once more, lips enraptured by her lover’s mouth. No reason to think. No purpose for her worries. Those were adequate reasons for her to ignore any uncertainty. She pulled her in tighter, a dribble of moisture now part of the experience. Amanda ground against her belly, her pre-cum rubbed off on the toned flesh, as her cock swelled higher, a clear line against her top.

“We should stop,” Amanda gasped, “I feel like I’m gonna cum.”

“But I like this,” Amy said, huge breasts heaving as they overwhelmed her girlfriend’s impressive pair.

“I know… believe me, I do,” Amanda chuckled, “But I’ve got class after lunch, and we, uh, might have a bit of an audience.”

“Spoilsport,” Amy huffed and set her down.

“Quit your bitching,” Amanda admonished with a light smack on the amazon’s breast, “I’ll make it up to you tonight. Promise.” They stepped apart to a groan from their spectators. Amy flashed them a grin and led Amanda into the cafeteria, eyes bright as they leered down at the shorter futa, whose eyebrow arched. She looked down at herself, crimson boiled over into her cheeks at the blatant bulge running up her shirt. Dampness spread out from the tube shape.

Amy couldn’t judge with her own skirt acting as little more than a sheet. Designed for such a purpose, her underwear tolerated the swell of her cock, taut around its and her balls shape. They raised her skirt, enough for any curious eye to sneak a glimpse of her privates. She glanced around the lunch room, met several keen gazes and chuckled at the palpable desire some girls radiated. How could they not, she thought and beamed at her girlfriend. Amanda returned the expression with her flushed cheeks.

They strode into the lunch line, casual as possible. All eyes watched Amy, stunned and aroused by her sudden burst in height. She towered over them before, now she compounded that fact. Many stares followed the bounce of her breasts, pert despite her lack of underwear, some settled on her curvaceous rear — though she would bow to Amanda’s superior ass — while everyone, without fail, gawked at her groin.

She glanced behind her to find an average girl, no more than 5’4”, crouched with her head tilted back. Amy turned as the girl realised she’d been caught. Her cock came within inches of the admirer’s face, close enough to offer a heavy whiff of her musk. She trailed her eyes over the nameless girl, a freshman she presumed, and saw her nipples poke through her band-shirt. It showed a female singer Amy didn’t recognised, whose body was an exact match for the girls. At a glance, she could believe that the singer’s nipples were hard.

“Feel free to take a picture,” Amy said. The girl whipped out her phone in an instant. Once she had her fill, she left the queue for a table full of observing girls. They giggled at her arrival and huddled around her phone. Several glanced at Amy, ran their tongues sensually slow across their lips and winked at her.

Of course, she’d seen the same expression dozens… hundreds of times in the past. She stopped counting during high school. Amy smirked at them and turned her attention back to Amanda, who kept herself pressed against the counter as she grabbed various pieces of her meal. Few things exaggerated the shorter girl’s demeanour, but embarrassment did so with gusto.

Dark red hair contrasted to her bright cheeks. She tucked a lock behind her ear, revealing a playful grin on her luscious lips, painted in vibrant red. Her soft tan let the splay of freckles across her cheeks stand Bakırköy travestileri out, enough to be cute without obstructing her face. A quick glance to her side showed off her emerald eyes, curiosity and desire brightened them better than any mere jewel. Though untested, Amy could stare at her face all day.

She often did when the rare occasions she woke before Amanda.

“Something on my face?” Amanda asked.

Amy shook her head, “No.”

“Then quit staring.”

“No,” Amy repeated to a drawn-out sigh. They came out from the line and steered toward their usual table, where Clary and Jade sat. Dana’s timetable differed to theirs that day.

“Am I gonna have to get shock collars for you two?” Jade groaned, spying the still impressive swells of their members.

“Blame her,” Amanda nudged Amy as they sat side-by-side. Her tray of salad and chicken curry paled to Amy’s meal, the amazon having taken more than one of the same item to sate her ravenous appetite.

“Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Kinda hard when your tongue’s down my throat.”

“Bet you wish it was somewhere else,” Amy snickered and let her tongue hang out, long even for her huge stature.

“You know me so well,” Amanda said and pulled her down to suckle on the wet muscle, casting a sidelong glance at their friends as she wriggled her eyebrows.

“I swear you’re both gonna get arrested for indecent exposure. When you do, don’t come crying to us,” Jade pinched the bridge of her nose. Music hummed beside her, Clary’s ears plugged into her phone while she tapped to the rhythm, “Exactly right, Clary,” Jade added. The musician blinked at her name and looked to Jade.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” She asked, pulling out her earphones.

“Don’t worry about it,” Amanda said, “More importantly, you two in for the party tonight?”

“I don’t think so,” Jade muttered and poked at her mashed potato, “Some of us prefer to wake up on time.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Clary said and leaned over, pulling the exotic futa in for a hug. Jade’s face fell into the endless depths of the musician’s cleavage and, enveloped in such exquisite tits, her disciplined mask cracked. A slight jerk caught Amy’s attention. She smirked and reached out with her leg, easily bridging the gap between her and Jade. The strict futa grunted at the touch, but Clary refused to let her pull away.

“Ooh, someone’s liking the attention,” Amy teased. She slid her shoe off and poked her foot against Jade’s shorts, finding a distinct bulge had formed.

“Really? You like my boobs that much? Aw, ain’t you sweet?” Clary gushed and held her tighter. Jade’s chin caught on the blue-haired girl’s neckline and pulled her shirt down, unleashing her mammoth tits to the world. Amanda giggled as she spectated the inadvertent lunchtime entertainment.

Amy rubbed the sole of her foot into Jade’s crotch, gripping the swelling shape with her limber toes. Their friend, renowned for her self-control, moaned at the touch. Clary no longer held her in place, instead she mashed her breasts against Jade’s cheeks, swallowing her entire head in their masses.

“Hey, babe,” Amy leaned to Amanda, “Why don’t you help Jade out?”

“Sure thing,” Amanda cackled and licked her lips. She slid under the table, food forgotten, and sidled across Amy’s leg to Jade’s trapped erection. Her fingers found the zipper and pulled.

“No!” Jade gasped and jerked upright. She pushed Amanda and Amy away, the latter still gripped her zipper, though, “Great…” the tanned futa glared around the table, lingered on Amy before she fixed her scowl on Clary.

“What?”

“You started it, so finish it,” Jade huffed. Her cock peeked over the table’s edge, its dark crown wet with pre-cum.

“What happened to ‘indecent exposure’?” Amy giggled, earning another harsh frown.

“Sure,” Clary shrugged, the rest of her shirt falling down her arms. None at the table, nor in the sorority, possibly the entire college, could deny her place as most endowed. Even Amy’s bust came second to hers. The singer/songwriter shimmied down as Amanda had done moments prior, torso-concealing tits jiggling with every slight move. Amy followed them, eyes swaying with the plump nipples and immense areolae as they vanished from sight.

“A little privacy, please?” Jade grunted. Her cock fell beneath the table as a loud, wet slurp drowned out her words. Another followed, punctuated by an intentional gag. Amy and Amanda ate in silence, smirking at their friend and savouring the sounds of Clary’s expert oral skills. Indignation flitted across Jade’s features, chased away by her pleasure.

Her hands stayed below the table top, biceps flexing as the lewd slurps hastened. Viscous strings of spit fell to the floor like heavy raindrops. Clary’s familiar voice hummed throughout, broken up by her skilled chokes. All sounds stopped for a moment, then Jade relaxed. Heavy gasps filtered through the air, before the lurid song Travesti Bakırköy resumed.

Amy watched her friend’s face. Her lips were tight, throat working to keep her from drooling, while her eyes clenched shut. Her eyelids fluttered, a sign Amy recognised. The amazon beamed in mischievous delight and extended her leg once more, this time to pull Clary away. Jade’s eyes flew open.

“Wh-why’d you stop?” She asked, staring down at her crotch, where Clary knelt, huge tits filling her lap, with Amy’s foot on her shoulder. Jade’s lip twitched as she turned to Amy, “Let her go.”

“On one condition,” Amy giggled. Her foot let the musician sway, placing her lips within inches of Jade’s slop-covered prick.

“Ugh, name it,” Jade groaned.

“You’re gonna come to the party.”

“Fine, fine. Just let me cum down her throat,” Jade grabbed at Clary’s hair and pulled hard, impaling the eager girl on her ten-inch cock. Her head flew back, lips parted, as she stifled her cries to mere gasps. Amy moved her foot under Clary’s chin, to Jade’s full testes, and played with them. Her friend groaned louder.

A minute later and Clary sat huddled against Jade. Cum and saliva stained her face and shirt, now put back into place over her bountiful bosom, while she wore a contented grin.

“Thanks for the workout,” Clary trilled.

“Yeah, no problem,” Jade mumbled. She refused to meet the girl’s adoring eyes, focused instead on the uneaten remnants of her lunch.

“I’ve gotta get going,” Amanda said after a check of her phone, “I’ll see you at the party. Don’t forget the formula,” she whispered into Amy’s ear and kissed the lobe.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Their sorority resided half a mile off the main campus, nestled into a neat suburban community. An ideal area would have been on the ‘campus street’, where most sororities and their counterparts lived. Sigma Futa, however, needed a more understanding neighbourhood. For all the parties that a typical college frat house hosted, they held an infamous title for theirs. In part due to the noise and stench of various substances during the party proper, but it was the aftermath that became cause for complaint.

To that end, they moved the sorority to an environment filled to the brim with energetic yet bored neighbours, eager for some form of excitement. Their parties of late often included the local housewives, and their husbands on occasion, inviting them into the flood of alcohol and sex and general discord. Several members’ families lived in the community, both a convenience and curse depending on the perspective.

Amy sat on her queen-sized bed, phone in hand and speakers blaring. Pre-partiers had shown up, comprised of underachievers intent on retaining such a distinction. Her music pumped against the pulsations from below her floor, a constant war note for note. Sharp yells pierced through the noise, and faded as immediately. The vague smashing of a pot caught her ear as she glanced to her left. There, a single bottle of her new favourite drink sat on her nightstand, awaiting its chance to make her shine.

She sighed, stood and took stock of her and Amanda’s spacious room. On each side of the bed, stood a table and, beside them, a short chest of drawers for their more ‘immediate’ clothing needs. The two shared the built-in wardrobe, filled it to the brim with their outfits and piled their shoes high. Amy slid it open to inspect her clothes.

She wore nothing for the meantime. Everything but the ground floor and basement was member’s only, leaving her in privacy. All her sorority sisters had become intimately acquainted with her body in the year since she joined, even the freshmen, and she with theirs. Were it not for the open invitation, she would’ve joined the festivities in the nude. Her upperclassmen had made more than enough of a fuss after the first time — and second, third, fourth and fifth — for her to understand.

“But nothing fits,” Amy whined. She sifted through top after top. None suited the occasion, either too tight to fit over her breasts or too short to cover them adequately. Amanda made it clear that she wasn’t to show off too much skin to strangers. The amazon laughed and pouted as she searched. Jealousy suited her girlfriend well.

The door burst open and in stepped Amanda, clad in her usual social fare. A cropped shirt blatantly displayed her lithe waist and hugged her breasts, enough for Amy to spot her lacy bra at a glance. Light skin led to her distressed jeans, strategic slits made to offer glimpses of her full thighs, above which her shape flared into an erotic hourglass.

“Everyone’s here,” Amanda said. On cue, the house exploded into cheers and vibrations of heavily distorted dance music, “Any luck?” She asked, shutting the door. Amy sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever invented soundproofing.

“See any?” Amy replied.

“Does it matter what you wear?” Amanda strode over and hugged the amazon, gifting her with a full, sensual smirk, “You look great no matter what.”

“True. But I like dressing up now and then,” Amy said, reciprocating the grin before she hefted the richly endowed girl off the floor, “Maybe I’ll just wear you? We can walk around with my cock buried up your ass, while you hug my big, huge, massive tits.”

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