Blessed Isles 18: A Quickie Series

Blessed Isles 18

by Saint Limey

Read Time: 20 mins

For the next hour, Chunali and I spoke in broken, languid sentences; sweet nothings and sweet somethings. We busied our bodies too, not forsaking the squishy, soft familiarity we’d built up in our two-girl orgy. Hands pawed at the undersides of my breasts, keeping them sloshing and bubbling, skin rippling like tides. Thighs went warm at their insides from the pressure of our continuous, romantic rocking. Every spice and salt of our feminine bodies dotted each inch of us as well as our cot. I was certain that a stone carved out of the temple ground underneath our pillows could hold onto the perfumed fragrance of milk and cum for decades to come.

“Don’t you think we should work on getting ready for Reffi?” I said. The words felt oblong and unnatural on my tongue—me, Verne, the sober one after a marathon of sex that would shame a pair of hormonally charged rabbitmunks? Ridiculous just a few minutes ago. Speaking of which, I added. “And how far is Rabbitmunk Cove from here?”

Chunali fluttered her eyes up. She was listless and slower than usual after sex. Ease had befallen her usually-sharp face, like the post she was charged with holding was left behind while she lived with me. I liked seeing I had such an effect on her.

When she saw how the sun shone through the window and tracked it, she answered. “We have about an hour before we need to clean up and get dressed. We won’t be late.” Then, she softened even more to a rare affection that I’d exclusively seen exposed with me. “And Rabbitmunk Cove? Where did that come from?”

“You promised we would go.”

It took her a moment to remember. When she did, she grinned a little broader than she already was; lips a thick, soft half-moon. “I did, didn’t I? It’s quite a ways, though. Closer to my sister’s side of the island.”

“Oh,” I sounded. Seemed like it was out of the question.

“But I always keep my word. Just let me think about it.”

“Aww, Chu! Thank you!” We were still so close that a ten-second binge of kisses, squeezes, and moans from me could serve as her reward. I did just so, enjoying her body as much as her body enjoyed me. “Just. . . don’t make the other priestesses cover for us again. They can’t possibly keep concealing where we are.”

“How do you think I was able to come to meet you so many times?” Chunali winked. “They’re pretty good at covering for people. We’re not the first ones to want some time to explore romance in the jungle and we won’t be the last.”

“You’re way more of a bad girl than you let on. I can’t believe I thought it was for show, the way you were all anti-establishment with your sisters. But now I hear you’re the center of a group of sex smuggling priestesses! What have I gotten myself into?” I teased.

“Nothing, since you’re on our good side.”

“I’d like to see what your bad side looks like,” my voice lowered a half octave and I found her lower lips with my knee.

“One day, sure. At the moment, you’re acting too sweet for the bad side to come through. You’re considerate of the other priestesses, and they’re like my family.“ She kissed me tenderly but didn’t move away from my knee. “I know what I’ve gotten myself into with you. I like what I’m into with you.”

It wasn’t the orgy we’d just had. It wasn’t the idea that other lesbian trysts were facilitated by the cohort of priestesses that I was about to join. No, it was Chunali’s heart being carried in words that caused blood to rush to my cheeks. I blushed hard enough to rob me of words—to cook an egg on my forehead, more than likely.

Then, she came to kiss me again. I let her do so and enjoyed it.

Another few minutes later, I asked to be let up.

It was a tricky act, to say the least; getting to my feet again. Chu went off to my right, pushing our damp pillows and sheets to the side to sit on the cool, welcoming stone floor while I rolled forward. I went to put my feet under me, cocking my knees to push up out of a typical squat position but immediately regretted the natural move. Making out and groping Chunali for an hour had dulled my sense of consequences or logic. The moment my knees came anywhere near my chest, I felt the drag of skin against my nipples and went slamming back onto my butt.

“Holy shit. . .” I groaned. “Those things are sensitive.

“Are you sure you haven’t just forgotten how to use your feet?” Chu teased, calling out from behind me. “Because this is the second time I’ve seen you struggling to stand.”

“Not all of us know how to get by with massively curvy bodies, okay? We aren’t all born so lucky,” I craned my neck around and showed her my tongue, knowing that she was more than familiar with the length, color, and taste of it at this point.

“It seems like so long ago that you were smaller. I remember seeing you early on, so thin and pale. All bones and skin and a bush of light hair.”

“A lot of that hasn’t changed.”

“No, no, you’ve thickened up some. There’s more color to you, too. Healthier overall. The Isles have given you life. I’m happy about that.”

“According to that one hooded Old One, the only color of mine that seems to matter is my whiteness,” I frowned, exasperated, sweeping my feet underneath me for a second attempt.

“She means well. She’s just. . . really off. Don’t let her bother you. Nobody takes her seriously.” Chunali’s speech slowed. It was obvious she watched me even with her behind me. “Shift your weight more to the front. It’ll feel like you’re falling over, but that’s what your shoulders are for.”

“I didn’t know I’d need a fitness coach to teach me proper form.”

“Is that something you have in your world? Fitness coaches?”

I nodded, bracing my hands against the cool stone and crushing my pillowy boobs against my thighs. Again, a rush of warmth spread over them and dominated my mind with reminders of how huge they were. It was amazing how aware they could make me, how I felt every inch of my bare titties from their fronts, which pressed tight against the ground, to the place on my belly, now flattened, where they smashed snuggly against me, urging my thighs apart to rush into any new partition of space. They spilled out on both sides, too. It seriously made me consider the idea of being crushed by them, as every inch of me that was used to having freedom of movement was called into question by the wealth of squishy, gurgling boob all around me.

I was frozen by them. After an entire morning of lugging buckets of water from the temple to the river and back, my legs just couldn’t find the strength. Each of my boobs weighed me down like buckets in their own right. Their weight was distributed differently, too, not a vat with a handle but a large sack filled to bursting, constantly in motion and in need of stabilization. The fact that they were filled with milk only added to the bodily confusion. They burped and babbled sweetly as my milky brew continued to steep, warm, thick cream finding its way into every cranny of me. Even though my orgasm had ended, I could still feel the shift in pressure, the bulging of something in my tummy even though there was barely a bump to it as milk rose yet again and settled against my chest, nestled behind my breasts.

This warmth was too much. I moaned in my squatted position and leaned back too hard, heels digging into stone. My legs widened and, with a degree of delight I hadn’t foreseen, the weight of my new, heavy, taught melons slipped between my widened thighs, pressed hard against my womanhood as they dropped the remaining few inches to the ground.

“Holy shit. . .” I groaned. “Mmm, they’re big. Damn. . .”

Profanity was all I had. It just felt too good—too amazing to be of a size that when I stooped down, my boobs forced my legs apart, dropping down without permission, my muscles too weak or too surprised by the downward force to do anything about it. The sound of the slap they made as they came down on stone—a PLAAPAT! with one tumbling down just a little before the other—betrayed their heft further.

Investigating, I knew I had to be beaming. “Chunali. . . whoa. These are. . .”

“I know, Verne.”

They were the biggest and fullest I’d been on all the isles. It was no wonder I was having such a hard time with getting them off the ground, not just an issue of me being tired or weak but a testament to their sheer mass. Forget a ‘top-heavy figure’—I was almost entirely boobs now. And they were so dense, like the different quality and viscosity of the milk I’d drank had some sort of effect on the shape they’d taken; a swollen, smooth, almost shiny stretch to my skin and plumpness to my pink areola.

“You poor, poor girls,” I said, rolling my palms over them lovingly. “You look so full. Fuck, Saint Limey, what is going on here?”

“I’d say you are burdened,” Chunali mentioned. “And I think that’s great. I think it would be highly appreciated if the other priestesses were to see that you carried your own burden around as well. That’s been a topic of interest among them.”

I wondered how Chunali could know what topics were of interest among them. We hadn’t even been with them for twenty-four hours. Apparently, sentiments traveled quickly among the priestesses, which shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did.

I was a woman. I knew that women talked. I talked as well. It was no surprise that news got around swiftly, especially among women who spent almost every waking hour together.

Still, knowing that you come up in conversation and being told that you are part of conversation are different.

“That’s a good point,” I answered Chu. “I want to show that I’m one of them. And since I’m supposed to be proving myself as a priestess, I guess having huge, leaky boobies would send the right message.”

“Aww, you’re leaking?” Chunali whined. “Come here. I’ll help you with that if you want. After all, you may have a burden, but you’re still different from the other Kkarians in one very special way. . .”

Chu purred the invitation, still a live wire, a spark that could set my world ablaze. I felt a tingle and, with sudden certainty, I felt my nipples go rock solid at her words. Warm liquid as heavy as a drop of honey beaded their fronts.

But this time, I decided I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Rather, there was a deeper sort of fun and intimacy that came from denying one another. She’d showed it to me before in the cave and I hadn’t been able to get her back for it, only drinking a portion of my breast milk then and leaving the rest for another time. She’d denied me the blessing of being empty—something I was learning was a hot commodity and pleasure for any girl with milk in her tits.

Not that I was interested in being smaller just yet. I was enjoying being huge way too much. My boobs literally kept me grounded, two blimps pulling me toward the stone.

But having so much milk changed something about me fundamentally; something about my sexuality. I wanted to feed her. I wanted my milk to be put to good use. It was a different sort of focus, not the simple satisfaction of a well-petted pussy and a drooling set of lips but of breast-centered love and admiration. There wasn’t anything I thought could feel better than drowning my little princess lover in the milk I’d just acquired. Since Chunali likely felt the same—I could already hear her moaning at the sight of me from behind—there was no reason to rush.

Besides the promise we’d made to the other priestesses that we’d be ready by the afternoon.

It took everything to stand. That was no exaggeration. I rolled onto my feet again, planting them firm on the stone and feeling all of my weight shifting such that my heels dug into the floor beneath me. Graceful I was not, but I squatted like a toad and croaked like one too as I used both arms to hold onto thick slabs of tit flesh and relied on sheer will and unmilked boob horniness to bring myself onto my feet. Looking back, I maybe could have done so more easily if I used a rolling technique; going over to the side before setting one breast up at a time. I could have even rolled them forward and used them as a pivot upon which the dangling bit of girl on the end swung upward and upright.

But no. There was something more to this. At least, I wanted to make it something more. I wanted Chu to feel what I felt when she looked at me; to sense my desire the way I did without even having to see her.

And given enough time to adjust to my size and breathe out several puffs of exhausted air, thighs quaking as they threatened to give in, I stood. And in standing I achieved exactly what I wanted Chunali to see.

I turned slowly, still having to use my hands to keep the motion of my melons down. Without any constraint, the twisting motion could have thrown me to the ground again at best or dislocated some vertebrae at worst. But that was a very rational fear and what we dealt with, in this lofty space where the princess of Kkara watched with rapt attention, had very little to do with reason, logic, or thought.

It was visceral.

The air thickened with sweetness and our desire for one another—Chunali’s want for my huge, hulking, milk tanks—was all but visible as golden tassels in the air between us.

“You like?” I growled and found that summoning the sex appeal required for such a growl was almost alarmingly easy. I felt full of arousal; nearly as full as I was with milk.

“I want,” Chunali answered, gulping audibly like her mouth had dried up at my raging, full-frontal nudity.

“You’ll get. . . But not right away. Earn it.”

“You mean the fact that you’re that size wasn’t enough for me to earn a taste?”

“It was, but that’s too easy. I know how much you like to work.”

Chunali rolled her eyes. “Not in matters such as this. For my people, sure. For myself, fine. But this. . .”

“You’re just spoiled. That’s both of our faults. I like spoiling you.”

“I like being spoiled.”

“But for now, I think you’ll benefit from some nice teasing. So, before you get a taste of these. . .” I said, completely in my element as I sidled up beside her. At my size, it took nothing for me to seem seductively imposing. I was tits with a side of girl, skin pulled tight in two barge-sized breasts that kissed my hips when I ambled closer to Chu. “First, you’ll have to have a taste of something else.”

I moved in closer and closer, seeing Chu’s face disappear beneath the swell of my enormous, blimp titties. I heard her mutter something in Kkarian, something I knew had to be a swear as the shadow of my mammoth, gurgling milk tanks drew over her like a curtain and threatened to slam her into the wall.

That, however, would have to wait till later. This was a tease for her. I had to make sure she’d appreciate the moment when she could have my boobs to herself—two behemoth swells of feminine sweetness, bubbling with borrowed creamy delight that suited a meal for a village or, in this case, one famished young princess.

Instead, I took another step and strained my arms to lift my boulders, fingers fanned as I pulled my titties up at the last second before their bottoms would have formed a soft, porcelain cocoon around Chu’s amused face. I’d calculated it such that the fronts of my breasts would, instead, smack into the wall just above her, cornering my lover. What I didn’t take into full account was how rigid my nipples were and, upon slamming my lady mountains against the stone wall, the pressure of my bent paps made me screech with delight. Molten love came dribbling out of me in every conceivable capacity.

Clear drool sprang renewed from my lips. My womanhood wept onto Chunali who had pitched a tent out of my parted thighs. My nipples simultaneously erupted with cream so thick it made them bulge, growing wider and thicker as the first pockets of white ambrosia burst against the wall and dripped down in fist-sized dollops all around us.

I would have collapsed to the floor from the pleasure of it, my body a tiny, natural reactor that was constantly overheating. Instead, I had the pleasure of Chunali’s support once again as I felt her hand cupping my bare, exposed ass, lending me just enough support to keep from crushing her. Only, it wasn’t simply an act of loving support. Instead, I realized far too late that, presented with the sight of my pussy, her hand placement had been an excuse for her to align herself properly before sitting up and cradling herself between my thighs.

This moment had been a long time coming. . .

I groaned with utter satisfaction, feeling ironically even more womanly as my girlfriend tasted my muff. The humongous, body eclipsing tits weren’t what did it. They were another identity all their own—and identi-titty all their own? They jiggled and rolled, ripples passing through and over them as milk that was still finishing the exodus from my waistline swooped upward to be caught within my already tremendous rack. Milk stuffed me. I was almost certain that there was more than anyone could ever hope to drink in a sitting. Chunali would have her work cut out for her, and that filled me with a bodily satisfaction of a newer sort—that I could be a provider, comforter, and sustainer.

But being eaten out, devoured, and taken so abruptly by Chunali’s mouth was something else entirely. It tapped into my sexual nature, occupying the plane just below the wholesome quality of nurturing and care. Feasting on my flesh was much more carnal. Stuffing her tongue inside of me and sucking my clit weren’t loving care. Chunali had no intention of being gentle with me anymore, and it showed. I’d given her a job, a task to bring me to a world-shattering finish, and she took her duties seriously.

“Holy fuck!” I wheezed, seeing stars. My pussy throbbed—in time with the rest of my body where blood hammered in my veins and scorched the air in my lungs. My skin tingled in waves, goosebumps caused by the quality of the job. Again, had Chunali’s hands not been there to hold me up, I would have come crashing down on her shoulders. Instead, I was able to jerk my hips forward and back, scooping downward to feel the puffs of her excited breathing against my hooded point as she laid claim to my womanhood.

It was too good. I groaned like a woman possessed, losing track of time. Had it been a second of heaven? An hour? Were we due back with the other priestesses? Shouldn't I be worried about how long it was taking?

No.

None of it mattered. It didn’t even register. The haze of pink delight in my mind was so thick I couldn’t function. All there seemed to be was the wall in front of me and tingles—centimeter after centimeter of hyper-sensitive skin.

None more sensitive than my tits though. With every lick of my pussy, I felt a vibrating stir between my breasts. They called to me, my hot-milk balloons, and I went to them with unashamed self-love. There was plenty for my mouth to indulge in, every kiss of mine against the tops of my own fleshy walls feeling like a tiny supernova. My hands groped and massaged, pressing in as hard as I could but finding almost no yield in them. There was no hope in getting a hand to all of me. The mass of my inflated breasts was too much; volume unfathomable. And that fact, being too big for even myself to handle, only took me to yet another layer of bliss.

Around that time, I heard chatter outside. Women’s chatter. The priestesses were coming back from their morning washings. Their tone was noticeably different, more relaxed and confident, the pent-up nature of their bodies fully expressed such that they were ready for their other morning chores.

Chores that I was supposed to be going through as I indulged.

But I couldn’t bring myself to worry too much with Chunali’s agile, dexterous tongue inside of me.

“Mmm!” I groaned, hips now at a fun, steady swivel. Chunali changed the situation some, bringing her mouth northward to my hooded stiffness, sucking it into behind her lips as her fingers adopted the work of working themselves deeper and more fully than her tongue could. I was being undone, a woman in very capable hands, my clit threatening to spark fire despite the copious amounts of fluid it was being bathed in.

All of this while women filled the halls beneath and around us, girls going to their posts while chatting in Kkarian. It wasn’t a secret what was happening behind our curtain; in Chunali’s quarters, a new woman was being forged by tongue and fingers. And yet, nobody interrupted. There was the occasional pattering of footsteps, summoned by my inability to contain how fucking amazing I felt. A small group had no doubt formed near the entrance and were listening to discern what was going on. It would have been worrisome had one of them thought to run off and tell Reffi what was happening.

Fortunately, I heard giggles rather than gasps as bare feet padded toward other parts of the temple. At most, they were in on the plan that Chunali had put in place. At least, they enjoyed a bit of lively scandal taking place within temple walls.

All of it came together within me. Light and sound. The outside world and my inside universe. My milk gurgled noisily as my arousal spiked, going from leaks to full-on letdown and covering the wall and the floor nearby with spillings of my milk.

“Oh shit! F-Fuh—. . . Chu!” I groaned, head tilted forward as I sucked my tit flesh into my mouth, giving my boobs a fraction of the attention they demanded as I lost all control of my muscles, spasming into another amazing orgasm.

All at once, I was a node for stimulation. Stars danced behind my closed eyes and the fine hairs on my skin rose as lightning was about to strike. My pussy gushed, a let down of yet another kind, as the culmination of my arousal peaked and overflowed, splashing against Chunali first, then my thighs. I heaved moans, feeling them come from deep inside of me, heavy as the buckets of water I was forced to carry while making me light-headed at the exertion of having them pass. I lingered in that state for as long as Chunali’s fingers continued curling at my inner walls; her tongue a welcome company for my throbbing clit.

I felt whole.