Pool Party For Two: A Caption

Pool Party For Two

Written by Saint Limey

Morph by ​Femalemorphlover

Read Time: 16 mins

A pool party wasn’t just a bad idea because summer warmth was waning. It was a bad idea because Julia didn’t have a pool.

Hence, your involvement in this whole situation.

You weren’t exactly the person people called if they needed moving, but you were handy around campus. You’d put the chain back on Julia’s bike when it had come off. You helped her as she toted boxes from one office to another. You’d established yourself well as a panacea for her concerns, hardships, and woes—which were at an all-time high now that Julia was on the college outreach board.

“It’ll work. I have a secret weapon,” she said excitedly at school, earning her your first ‘no’.

It’s a really good secret weapon. . . she texted you a day or so later. Your reply was a second, italicized ‘no’.

“She won’t shut up about it,” said your friend, Ken, who was yet another member of the University Outreach Committee. And since it sounded more like Kenneth’s problem you told him that maybe he should contribute his expert craftsmanship to her little project. He replied with, “I’ve offered. She only wants you, Ronnie. I’ve offered her every muscle in every athletics program on campus, but she seems to think that this job takes a sort of. . . feminine touch.”

So, having been pestered in three different ways just as the fall semester was kicking into gear, you caved and offered to help Julia with her pool party scheme.

The one without a pool.

It took the fullness of the day, which was alright because, at the very least, Julia was bubbly and easy to get along with. She was also allergic to idle time, always tinkering or fussing with some decoration. Often, you just followed her around and emulated her, taking an occasional break for an energy drink, asking for specifications on measurements or proper placement. Starting at nine and taking only a brief lunch break, your combined efforts had Julia’s house looking perfect.

Last was the pool.

“I’ve actually been at this a tad too long. I need to take a second,” Julia said. “And no, I’m not dipping out at the most important part. Don’t give me that look. I just. . . know that I wouldn’t be of much help with this. Could you get started? I’ll check on you in a little while.”

You gave her ‘that’ look anyway. No matter what she said, she was technically flaking on what was the crux of the plan. But then Julia gave you a hug and you were easily convinced to look the other way.

Julia gave very convincing hugs.

So you got to work on the above-ground pool, finding a spot by the fence to place everything. You were tired, but the pace of the work up until now gave you a nice rhythm and before long, you’d made easy work of things.

The hour of labor flew by. No sign of Julia, though.

All that remained was to fill the pool, so you put the hose in place and started the water. You began to question what the girl who had been diligent for nine hours could be up to as a summer-autumn cusp night came in; warm breeze swept away by a refreshing nippy chill.

That’s when you turned to the sliding door on the patio across the lawn and saw Julia.

She had a thoughtful smile on her face like she’d been standing and watching you for a while. In fact, you sort of remember seeing her in the window a few times while you worked but figured that it was just a coincidence. She was on the phone a lot. Probably making sure that other arrangements—the music entertainment, the catering, and the fireworks (yes, fireworks) were all in place for the party.

Now, though, she didn’t seem preoccupied with other tasks. She seemed to only notice you. She came down from the patio, absolutely beaming. You loved how her smile made her cheeks look so big and how her eyes glowed a laughing evergreen in the afternoon. You’d spent the whole day working with your friend and only just realized that she was, well, gorgeous.

It just wasn’t the thing you usually noticed. Julia caused you trouble—the opposite of what she was doing for you now. A different sort of trouble, perhaps; trouble a lesbian like you could get into when your friend walks out of her house in a red bikini.

“Tada! What do you think?” she said, doing a brief twirl for you.

You replied in the affirmative, though it took a while for the words to take shape in your mouth. Your jaw grew heavy, sagging in an awkward gape.

“You don’t have to stare like that. . .” she said, slapping your arm.

It hurt. Julia always hit a little too hard.

But it was effective. It snapped you out of the daze Julia’s tight, red bikini had put you in.

You asked what she was doing wearing a bikini in such cool weather, avoiding her question completely.

“This is the secret weapon. More specifically, it’s ‘secret weapon part two’.” Julia tossed her brown hair back, flashing the stray blonde bits of it. “Part two is. . . well, maybe I should double-check if part two will work. I did already double-check that everything else was going according to schedule. You can’t stare though, okay? It’s, uh, embarrassing.”

You promised not to stare—while racking your brain for a way to keep such a promise—as Julia went over and examined the above-ground pool. The thing was downright tacky, even though you’d done a decent enough job setting it up. It paled in comparison to the girl standing before it, all wrapped up like a present in her bikini top and bottoms. . .

You were already breaking your promise.

But what amazed you most was when Julia spun around, no longer lost in the slowly filling vat of water, producing a bottle full of a clear liquid. Water, it looked like, but the bottle was way too fancy to simply be water. With a brief pause to reflect on it, she unscrewed the cap and began to chug the liquid, throat working double-time to gulp it down.

There was no need for Julia to chug it. Did it have something to do with her being dehydrated? Wanting to prove her drinking skills for the alcohol—that absolutely would not be at this family-friendly, college student gathering? Needing to use the bottle for decoration but not wanting to waste its contents? It struck you as just the thing for Julia to do—marching to the beat of her own drum, going by her own plans.

Then, as the last droplets fell from the clear bottle and she sighed from her heavy drinking, you noticed a stark change in her bikini. It fit her differently somehow like it was a little bit more clingy than it had been. The tiny strips of fabric seemed all the smaller, or maybe your attention was closer drawn to her beautifully smooth skin. She’d raised her arm all the way up when she drank from the bottle, so maybe it had adjusted somehow?

It was certainly something you would have noticed—promise be damned.

But. . . no.

There was more to this, though you couldn’t put your finger on it just yet. Julia paused briefly like she’d done something weighty or significant, but shrugged and tossed the bottle away like it was nothing. You watched her walk to the blue garbage bin on the side of the house and swore you noticed that she was, well, bouncier. More of her moved when she walked. She bounced a lot already, but there were new accents to the way she moved now.

Damned magic bikini, drawing your eye.

About that time, Julia noticed that you hadn’t moved from where you stood and hadn’t kept your eyes off of her.

“Perfect! If you’re having a hard time then I know the others will too. My plan will work, after all, see?” she said, prancing up to you.

Her tits sloshed about like mad as she did so, and it seemed that she was putting more effort into making them do just that. The only alternative was that she was somehow larger because you weren’t used to seeing your bubbly friend jiggling so much in her clothing. Come to think of it, even the tightest little tops she wore to present herself as the “face” of the college student committees weren’t this blatant with their manipulative sex appeal.

Whatever dial she turned her hotness to at those meetings was nothing compared to the roaring, blaring appeal she had on display now. . .

“I see you’ve taken notice of my. . . secret weapon? Or I guess they are weapons now. Plural.” Julia gave her chest a little bob, her tits obedient to her motion. The resulting jiggle extended several long seconds after her initial movement stopped, proving the consistency and playfulness of her funbags without the constraints of formal clothing. “I’m so happy it worked, too. Like, I’ve tried a few bottles from this company and they’re seriously hit or miss. I probably shouldn’t have drunk one just now to show you but, well. . .”

You were speechless during all of this, silently observing. After all, she was your annoying best friend. You didn’t know how to react as she transformed into a literal babe right in front of you, fulfilling more than just one of your fantasies.

But then she leaned in and it forced you to make a short blurt of noise—a cross between a groan and an excitable yip. Julia woofed out a long, hardy laugh at the reaction her proximity prompted.

“That’s right, sweetheart. This is your reward for helping me so much and working so hard to make the late summer pool party a success. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. Or, don’t sit back. Sit forward. Lean in close. . . Seriously.”

Before you could protest—like you even would—you felt Julia reaching for your cheeks and pulling you down to rest betwixt the velvety swells of her breasts. Without clothing, you were privy to the softness and pleasure of her skin, but also the sensation of something filling as your lips were forced to pucker against her. She smelled amazing, but even that couldn’t distract you from the sneaking sensation of change. It was more than her just squeezing tighter. In fact, she loosened her grip to see if you would spring back or run away—which you didn’t.

But you still felt an improving pressure as you stood there, neck-deep in her cleavage. A sense that she was shifting and changing.

A sense that her chest was growing.

About that time, she pushed you back. You stumbled some, lost in the amazing revelation, and found yourself tumbling backward into one of the lawn chairs. Julia stalked you down, throwing her admittedly stocky legs into a sultry catwalk that ended barely a foot away.

“That look means that you figured out what my secret weapons are. Good, good,” Julia smirked, now flaunting her full extroverted personality—and breasts. “Then how about a little show? A private one. Just for you, since you’ve worked so hard.”

The last words were said shyer than the rest, confidence wavering just a little. Her vulnerability, though, was what truly did it. She cared so much about your opinion of her. It almost hurt you to think that you’d disregarded her for so long.

Fortunately, you had time to pay her back now. You watched as she danced about. Julia was no dancer, mostly just flailing her limbs cutely and laughing at herself. It was enchanting regardless. But when her musicless dance number came to a close, she focused almost exclusively on bringing more attention to her enhancing boobage.

She swung herself with practiced ease, the swelling size of her tits apparent. She was nearly the size of two fully ripened grapefruit with no end in sight. Suddenly, the thought that she had grown quite a few times and practiced just such moves alone aroused you. It seemed so cute that she would experiment so hard to get to this level of proficiency with jiggles and bounces.

Though, it wasn’t nearly as powerful as the jealousy that billowed forth when you thought about Julia sharing the same jiggles and the same bounces with others. You liked believing what she’d said: this was your special treat.

Julia was yours.

Her tits, by extension, were also yours. And while the perverseness of ownership over a woman’s body parts alarmed you, you also knew that the feelings were as playful and yearning as Julia’s dance—an expression of what was building up slowly inside of you, connecting you to her.

“Mmm, like it?” Julia mewled.

She cocked her arms and brought her hands up to her growing girls. They easily filled her palms, more flesh pouring like her body was the hose, and her breasts the pool itself. She just kept filling and filling, finding volume beyond volume. Soon, she was larger than the grapefruits from before, approaching melons. Once there, she didn’t remain. She continued to grope herself in long, wide circles to show off how big she was getting. Her lips parted, thick and gleaming from a fresh swipe of her lips. Not only was her little dance a treat for you, but her own personal satisfaction was evident when she noticed how poor a job her tiny pawish hands did at wrapping around her lively knockers.

“Th-They’re really heavy. I might need a little help with them. . .” she alluded, inviting you into her personal Eden, pleading with her eyes and thumb-sized nipples for you to partake of her forbidden fruit.

Ripe, gluttonous, heaving fruit

You’d been merely an observer until that moment. That was when she descended, bending in half to reach for your hands. You admired the clapping of her titties as she leaned forward, their weight pulled downward making them appear all the larger, caught swinging in the hammocks of red fabric that had somehow remained intact. Your wrists were in her fingers and she flipped your hands up so that you cupped her dangling funbags from below. They were even warmer to the touch than before; furnaces of feminine size. They welcomed you, blisteringly fiery with passion as they melted into your palms and fingers. As your reach rose further and further, pushing up toward her torso, her weight filled your hands and you felt your arms tightening as they were burdened. Julia’s tits were so heavy. Dense, voluminous orbs that tested your initial involvement.

“Ahh, yea. That’s better. Much, much better. . .” Julia moaned—really and truly. It was sexuality she was letting you see, no longer hiding it from you coyly. It had to have been so powerful to overtake her the way it had; a bolt of rapture striking like lightning through her body.

It was too much even for you. Maybe had you seen it at a distance you might have resisted. Maybe if it was old Julia you could have brushed it off as a joke.

But you were too close to her gorgeously contorted face—fluttering eyelashes, minty breath, a sheen of bodily strain as she fought to contain the growing energy blooming within her. And this wasn’t old Julia; nosy, annoying, headstrong.

This Julia was all of that and more. She was pushy enough to get you to come over and so stubborn that she wouldn’t allow anyone else to do the same job.

But she was also this new woman—a jealous goddess, a crooked angel, a childish succubus.

Flawed. Growing. Yours.

You kissed her. She kissed back. You couldn’t remember leaning. You didn’t remember puckering, but you were kissing Julia.

And with your united mouths, you felt a surge flowing from you to her that fueled the weight of her breasts in your hands. She grew and grew, zero to Z cup, so to speak, as you massaged her full lips with your own. You felt the surge all the more clearly with your eyes closed. She was already too big to fit comfortably in your mitts and only grew larger, flesh pouring between your fingers but even further as well. It escaped the platform of your palm and scorched a path down your wrists. They grew so heavy that your tired arms dropped them and the sudden shift brought Julia against you.

You both rocked back in the lawn chair. It creaked under both of you, threatening to split the supportive metal rods. Neither of you cared.

You kissed and squeezed and groped one another, your hands not only on Julia’s breasts but around her back to her shapely ass. She cocked her legs astride across your lap and rolled her hips against your abdomen. Meanwhile, her fleshy pillows filled the space between you, red bikini a stringy mess of slivers and twine; a long lost memory. It was silly to imagine her of a size that would fit into such a thing anyway. It had been a momentary fixation. Now, each of Julia’s breasts would more accurately fill the chair beneath you than fit in any amount of clothing.

And when they stopped growing, it didn’t stop your romance. That didn’t stop till the night had come and the fall chill forced you both inside. Standing with Julia, holding her hand, you ushered her inside, helping her relearn the process of walking with tits down to her hips.

“I’ll sleep it off,” she confirmed as you watched her stumbling some, struggling to fit through her backdoor. “The drink loses its effect once I go to sleep. I’ll be back to normal by the pool party tomorrow—. . . Wait! The POOL!”

Both of you turned to look outside and saw that the pool had long since overflowed. A small lake of water had ruined half the yard and washed mud halfway up the porch. A noticeable bump in the water bill this month would likely also add insult to injury.

You looked with embarrassment before turning back to Julia. Julia looked at you, shrugged—an act that was no small effort with the size of her chest—and stood up taller to kiss you again.

“We’ll take the damages out of the earnings from the party. . .” Julia smirked, her usual reckless and naughty self. “And if it’s not enough, we’ll just have another pool party—one bigger than even this one!”

Something told you that it would be hard to have a party bigger than the one you had spent all day prepping for. But then you appreciated Julia’s huge, tanned titties one final time and realized that, for Julia, going ‘bigger’ was always a possibility.