Imaginings

Re: Imaginings

I.

As Eva drags herself into her little apartment after an exhausting day, its emptiness hits her once again.

It has been nearly three months since she left her hometown and moved to the mid-sized city of Porton, chasing a higher paycheck and a livelier social scene. The former, she has caught: a hefty compensation package from a well-established company called Oritek, plus generous commissions, in exchange for hawking their printers and photocopiers to any company rep with five minutes to listen to her pitch. The latter has proven more elusive; being constantly on the road or on the phone leaves little time to even get to know her co-workers, let alone join a book club or a dance class.

She closes the door, hangs up her jacket, and sets her purse and keys on the kitchen counter - if "kitchen" is even the right word for the corner of the main room with the single gas burner - then kicks off her shoes and heads into her bedroom.

She unbuttons her blouse and shrugs it off, then unclasps her bra and removes it as well, breathing a sigh of relief. Lying back on the bed, she pulls off her pants and socks, then takes a moment to rest her head on the pillow and breathe, setting aside the events of her trying workday.

After a few moments, she gets up again and opens the door of her tiny closet, then reaches in and pulls a plastic bag full of balloons out of a box in the very back. As she walks back to bed, she opens the bag up, takes a few balloons out, and sets them down on the nightstand.

Not for the first time, she wishes she didn't have to come home to an empty bed after every unreasonable client, overly demanding manager, and unhelpful co-worker has drained the joy out of her day. It would be nice if someone recharged her happiness for once.

She sighs, then lies back on the bed and starts blowing into a 14-inch blue balloon. It's a common starter for her little stress relief sessions these days. Sometimes she likes to start out fast, but tonight, with so little energy to spare, she blows slowly and steadily, her chest rising and falling gently. She holds the balloon in her hands, feeling the rubber stretch little by little.

As she interlaces her fingers and presses the balloon between her palms, she remembers when her fingers interlaced with her first boyfriend's, what seems like ages ago.

They had been in high school, he a gangly boy, she a rather heavyset girl. Her classmates called them '10' when they walked side by side because they looked like the number, but he told her it was because they were ten out of ten together. She smiles, remembering how serious all that silliness seemed back then. Like so many high school relationships, that one didn't last - he moved away for college, and she was too afraid of change to follow him.

If he were here now, she'd make sure they would do so much more together than hold hands...

She continues blowing, warm breath condensing inside the balloon, and runs her tongue around the nozzle of the balloon inside her mouth, closing her eyes as she imagines herself locked deep in a French kiss. She never went that far with him, and she has heard that he moved out of the country entirely and practically vanished. In fact, she's never gone that far with anyone else, either, leaving a string of failed and self-sabotaged first dates in her wake over the years.

Well, hey, a girl can dream.

She continues blowing into the balloon, feeling it grow firmer and firmer, until the neck bulges out. Gingerly, she clips the nozzle shut and sets it down.

Although she feels the first hints of arousal, her body isn't responding as quickly as she would like, as she fights the pull towards sleep.

I need more...

She takes a 24-inch balloon off her nightstand and scoots back, sitting up against the headboard, then takes a huge breath and starts to inflate it, enjoying the sound of air rushing in. As soon as it grows large enough, she wraps her arms around it as she blows, pressing it tight against her bare chest and stomach, the softness and pressure of it against her skin somehow both calming and exciting. She squeezes it as tight as she can, imagining that it is some nameless, faceless lover she has yet to meet.

This is really kind of sad if you think about it. What would my life be as a newspaper headline? Young professional woman pushes away opportunities for meaningful relationships due to lack of self-confidence, then turns to balloons for comfort? Well, whatever.

Her irritation with herself turns into a new spark of energy, and she begins blowing faster, moving her head forward and back, rapidly inhaling and exhaling into the balloon. She giggles to herself. See, hypothetical future boyfriend? This is what you're missing. Before long, she has blown the balloon up big enough that she can wrap her legs around it as well as her arms. She slides out of her panties and eagerly squeezes it between her thighs.

I'll have you know I'm an excellent lover...

As her ample thighs squeeze tighter, the balloon's neck bulges out.

Caring...

She blows into the balloon harder and harder, rivulets of condensation becoming visible inside as it grows larger and more translucent.

Attentive...

She squirms around, every possible inch of her body rubbing against the firm latex, her breaths coming quicker as the sensations of pleasure build.

And horny as fuck.

In one swift motion, she clips off the end of the balloon and puts it under her legs, straddling it, grinding her hips against it. A moan escapes her lips, and she puts her hands on the balloon to steady herself, her fingers sliding against its surface, causing it to squeak loudly. She closes her eyes and her mouth hangs open as she lets her body be taken over by desire, her hips pounding against the balloon involuntarily, her twin bed creaking loudly in protest.

Alone in her room, she finds herself addressing a figment of her imagination in a tone of excitement and anticipation none of her dates have ever heard:

"I'm so ready...ahh...to meet you...you'd better be ready too...mmm!"

Her pussy slides easily up and down the balloon now, leaving a trail of wetness on its surface. All thoughts of today's events are long gone and replaced by a rapidly building ecstasy.

She unclips the balloon and rides it harder than ever, pinching the nozzle between her fingers and releasing the air in spurts.

"Let me squeeze...everything...out of you...ohhhh..."

As the last of the air escapes the balloon, her body shudders and she lets out a long, loud moan as her pleasure overtakes her completely. Panting hard, she collapses on the bed, rubbing the deflated balloon between her legs a few more times before dropping it next to her on the bed. As every muscle in her body relaxes, her exhaustion finally catches up with her and she sinks into a deep sleep, a strange feeling of hopefulness lingering within her.

~~~

Author's Notes:

Eva's in kind of a similar place to me at the moment, relationship-wise. Unlike me, she does at least have the luxury of no housemates so she can indulge herself whenever she has free time. (Why "Eva?" It's my first story, and Eve was the first woman. Names and titles are the hardest part of a story for me, so I just picked one and ran with it.)

Re: Imaginings

II.

Saturday morning arrives, and with it a fresh package of balloons for Eva. She opens up the package, laying out bag after bag of colorful balloons on her dining table and ogling their contents.

I'll get to you soon. But first, errands...

She hears a knock at her door, opens it, and is greeted by the sight of a man about her age, neatly dressed, with the familiar Oritek logo embroidered above his shirt pocket, looking like a stock photo of a salesman.

"Sam? Why the company shirt? Don't tell me we have to work weekends again."

"Don't worry, we just need your signature. ZCorp wanted the contracts typewritten and hand-signed for security reasons or something. Insisted that they not go through snail mail. Smells fishy to me, but that's a problem for management."

He hands her a rather thick plastic envelope.

"Six copies of everything."

She sighs and sits at the table, brushing the balloon bags aside to make space for the documents. "This will take a while. Why don't you have a seat? I usually make tea in the mornings, if you want any."

"I'm good, thanks."

He sits down across from her, as she settles in to read over the contracts.

...WHEREAS, the Parties desire to enter into an exclusive agreement with regards to the purchase of goods...minimum of two (2) years...the following models...

"Are these for next Friday?" he asks.

...without prejudice to any prior agreements...

"Hmm?" She doesn't look up from the paper.

"These balloons." He rustles one of the bags.

Now she looks up sharply.

"No, uh, my sister's dropping by to see me next week, she's coming to see me for her birthday..."

She sets her pen down, stopping herself before the lie becomes more obvious. "What's next Friday, again?"

"Jen closed the biggest sale of the quarter, remember? The big bosses are holding a party at the office on Friday, and our little team gets to share in her glory. It's all everyone's been talking about during coffee breaks."

"Oh, well, I do tea, not coffee, so..."

"Sure, sure, but it's Jen the golden child. You must have heard about it."

"I figured she did something impressive, but I didn't figure 'Jen' and 'party' belonged in the same sentence." She looks down at the contracts again, relieved that the conversation has turned.

"Are you kidding? Anyone with a planner the size of a dictionary clearly has lots of fun lined up. She probably schedules time for scheduling time..."

Eva flips through the contract until she reaches the end. "You know what?" she says. "I'm not reading all this on a Saturday. I see your signature here, so I'll just sign now. If we get screwed, I'm blaming you."

Sam smiles. "I'm not worried. Nothing gets past me."

Does he mean something else by that? No, I'm just being paranoid.

She slides the papers back into the envelope and hands it over. "Here you go."

He tucks the envelope under his arm. "Thanks. Do you mind if I take a few balloons? I wouldn't be surprised if the bosses decided that the only decoration we need is the print samples Jen used to persuade her prospects. Someone's got to make sure it looks like a party."

"That's fine," she says, shrugging with what she hopes is a nonchalant air.

"Cool." He reaches into one of the bags, grabs a large handful of balloons, and stuffs them in his pocket before getting up to go.

"See you on Monday, Eva", he says. "And try not to get assigned to any trips with Jen, you'll have to listen to her talk about how great she is the whole time. Good luck." He pats her on the shoulder, gives it a squeeze, and leaves before she can say another word.

---

That night, Eva takes her new toys to her bedroom and empties the bags out on her bed to do a little inventory. Based on what's missing, it seems that Sam's handful of balloons must have contained not just ordinary round party balloons, but some shapes she had been curious about - donuts, spirals, blossoms, and even, somehow, a giant zeppelin.

Good thing I ordered two of those zeppelins. How did he fit all that in one hand? Did he take the "special" ones on purpose?

She absent-mindedly stretches and snaps a deflated long balloon between her hands, turning over her meeting with Sam in her mind.

And since when does he care how an office party is decorated? He didn't even show up for the last one.

(Snap, snap, snap.)

And what was with that touch on the shoulder? Have I seen him do that with other people before? Am I just so touch-starved I'm reading into it?

(Snap, snap, snap.)

This must all be wishful thinking. I can't act on assumptions, it would be embarrassing for both of us. Now let's stop thinking about Sammy the Salesman and turn our attention to what's within our grasp...

She takes a deep breath and blows into the long balloon, straining to make it start to expand, but is soon successful. As she puffs out her cheeks and forces more air in, it continues to widen and extend, her breath soon making its way all the way down to the tip of the balloon.

Carefully, she ties it off. She slides it down between her breasts, continuing to slowly slip it down her torso until it reaches her crotch. She angles her hips so that she can rub the tip of the balloon against her clit. Before long she can feel her breathing speed up, her body getting warmer.

She grabs a green punch balloon and starts blowing into it, admiring the play of light through it, the seams running down it dark against the rest of the rapidly growing sphere. Turning both hands back to the task of rubbing the long balloon between her legs, she continues to blow. She tosses her head back as the pleasure and the pressure build, and the punch ball's body drifts lazily up with the motion, but she keeps its nozzle between her lips and it is pulled back down to bounce off her breasts, which heave with her every breath.

She lets go of the long balloon to run her hands back up over her body, enjoying the comforting sensation of caressing her stomach, her breasts, her shoulders...

What if he... Her hands start to retrace their path back the way they came, pressing more firmly this time, giving her nipples a little extra attention, as an alternate vision of that morning flashes into her mind where A's hands took this route, and he made her blow up some "decorations" for him right there...

I can't let myself do this. I'll have a very hard time talking to him like a normal person with some lurid fantasy constantly in the back of my mind. Think of someone else, Eva, someone you don't have to share a desk with five days a week...

Her hands reach her crotch again, and she grasps the long balloon and makes it resume its duty.

Someone else, anyone else...maybe Martin, from college...

She blows another breath into the punch ball.

Or that one bank teller with the cute smile...

Another deep exhalation into the balloon.

That guy I waited behind in line at the grocery store with the wolf tattoo on his arm?

Another strong puff. She starts to rub the long balloon against herself faster, for the moment more out of frustration than enjoyment.

Julius? Mark? Liam? Sam? Sam... Sam!

If anyone were here to see her, she would be quite a sight, legs akimbo, her cheeks and ears bright red, her nipples erect, her hands basically jerking off a long balloon as she contorts her hips to grind against it, her hair being tossed around wildly, a balloon nearly twice the size of her head bobbing about, trying its best to escape her lips as she keeps blowing and blowing, resisting the urge to open her mouth and loudly alert the whole apartment building of her arousal.

I can't stop now...I need more! I'll always need more!

She keeps blowing, rubbing the long balloon against herself like a madwoman, sweat running down her body. Soon, her lips lose their grip and the punch balloon flies around the room. "Wait--come back--aaAAHH!" Her orgasm hits her unexpectedly early, and harder than it has in a long time.

When she returns to her senses, she catches a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. "Rode hard and put away wet" is the phrase that comes to mind.

"You're a mess, Eva", she tells her reflection, and abashedly starts cleaning up.

~~~

Author's Notes:

On names again, Sam is just a solid, sensible name. I realized after the fact that I may have subconsciously had Samwise Gamgee in mind, since I picture Sam as a good, dependable guy, maybe a bit boring (honestly, an ideal I strive towards. Exciting people tend to have "exciting" problems).

Re: Imaginings

III.

"...Not a problem, ma'am, Oritek would be happy to fly you out whenever is convenient to take a look...thank you so much, bye!"

Eva ends the call. Thankfully, Sam has been out on the road most of the week, so she's been able to give her work her full attention. It's only 4:30 in the afternoon, but she has no more calls to make or e-mails to send, so she cleans up her desk and heads for the office's upstairs function room.

Time to see if they really decorated the room with print samples...

As she walks into the function room, she sees that Sam's prediction was wrong. No print samples are on display, except a tarpaulin covering the whiteboard at the back of the room displaying a very professional-looking headshot of Jen (in excellent detail, of course) next to the name of some industry award Eva vaguely remembers hearing about in her first day orientation at the company. The conference table has been covered with a bright red tablecloth, and most of the people who were invited are here already, putting up streamers and ribbons.

Other decorations are being prepared as well - several people are sitting on the floor, clustered around an electric pump in the corner of the room, inflating balloons with the company logo on them. She hears the loud whining of the motor, sees a blue balloon rapidly expand on the pump's nozzle - but then the machine begins to sputter and the hum of the motor dies down, eliciting a chorus of annoyed groans.

She spots Sam, standing in the opposite corner of the room, holding what looks like a glass of whiskey.

I didn't figure him for a day drinker. Where did he get that, anyway?

Then, she hears the voice of the woman of the hour, Jen, from somewhere in the middle of the cluster around the pump. "Come on, people, the pump may have said 'no' to us, but everyone here should know how to turn a 'no' into a 'yes'! Brandon, suggestions for alternatives?"

A fresh-faced intern at the outer edge of Jen's little campfire circle turns to look at her. "Um... does anyone have a hand pump?"

Jen shakes her head. "Sensible solution, but we don't. Trust me, I checked. Besides" -- she raises a finger like a professor reminding her class of a concept that they consistently forget -- "we shouldn't be overdependent on tools and aids. A good salesperson should be able to reach the desired outcome through no more than their own wit, their own words, their own breath. Do you see where I'm going with this, Brandon?"

"I think so..."

"Great." Jen theatrically stands up, raises a balloon to her lips, throws back her head, and blows a powerful breath into it like a bugler signaling a charge. "Get to work, everyone!" And her soldiers dive into the fray, quickly picking up balloons of their own and following suit.

The suddenness of it catches Eva off guard, and she backs away, finding herself in Sam's corner. His face is rather flushed, and she wonders whether it's from the alcohol or the scene unfolding before them, every member of their team huffing and puffing with varying degrees of success.

"How long before she makes supervisor, do you think?" he asks her, gesturing in Jen's direction with his glass.

"Are you sure she didn't make herself supervisor last week when we weren't looking?"

"Since when does Jen do anything without making sure everyone's looking?"

Sam chuckles. "Good point. Have I told you about the incident with the karaoke machines? We had just come back from-"

"Hey, you two!" Jen has left her circle and is beelining towards them. "Great to see you both finished up early, ZCorp must be going well. Now, please make a meaningful contribution." As she reaches them, she slaps a pile of balloons into Eva's hands.

Sam raises an eyebrow at her. "Looks like you have plenty of help already. Can you give me a moment to finish my drink?"

"Nope!" Jen snatches the glass from Sam and replaces it with another handful of balloons. "Time and tide, et cetera."

Sam raises both his eyebrows at her. Jen crosses her arms.

"Get started, please," she says, her smile a perfect copy of the one on the tarp in the back. "I need to know you're committed."

"Fine, since you asked so nicely."

He takes a purple balloon, the company logo marked in yellow on it, and blows his first breath into it. Standing right next to him, Eva hears the familiar crisp sound of the inside of the balloon unsticking from itself as the first breath enters it, and the following whoosh of air and straining of rubber as the balloon expands far more than she can usually manage in one breath. For half a second, she just stares dumbstruck at him.

Am I imagining things, or is he even redder than before?

"Eva", says Jen, snapping her out of her trance. "You, too."

"Right..." She selects her own balloon, a white one with blue print, her hands trembling a little despite her best attempts to stay composed, and blows into it. She turns her back to Sam, both wanting to hide the nervousness on her own face and keep herself from driving herself wild with the sight of him blowing up his own balloon, but she can't help hearing his steady, strong breaths behind her, providing a counterpoint to her own shallow, rapid puffs.

Jen is already making her way back to her disciples, and Eva doesn't know whether to thank her or punch her. She can feel her own cheeks getting as red as Sam's, and keeps her gaze fixed firmly on the ground and the balloon in front of her face.

She manages to fully inflate the white balloon, but as she ties it off, she hears the steady blowing behind her stop and be replaced be a loud hissing and a "Hey!" from Sam. The origin of the hissing sound quickly changes from next to her to flying all around, and she hears the off-kilter rhythm of Sam's shoes on the tile floor as he circles and jukes, trying to chase down the wayward balloon.

Before she knows it, something purple and yellow has come around from behind her on her left and is now flying directly towards her. The purple balloon dive-bombs her face, the force of the last escaping air pressing it against her cheek before it expends itself and falls on her chest. She reflexively grabs it before it drops to the floor, feeling the wetness of Sam's spit on the nozzle.

Sam himself is right behind the balloon, though fortunately (or unfortunately?) he pulls up short just before he would crash into her.
"Sorry about that," he manages to cough out, out of breath from his little chase. He holds out his hand, and she returns the balloon to him, her fingers brushing his palm.

She tries to say "it's fine", but no words come out of her mouth. He quickly gathers the pile of balloons Jen dumped on him and briskly walks off to join the people gathered around the pump.

Eva carefully sets aside the white balloon she blew up and moves back to the corner table where Sam's drink sits. She leans against it, picks up the glass, and knocks back its remaining contents, hoping that they will calm her nerves.

I have to stop reading into things. Just one shot of this would turn anyone's face into a tomato.

She closes her eyes for a moment, opening them to see that Sam has disappeared into the circle of people. Somehow, the strength of Sam's drink seems only to have set her nerves more on edge, and she quietly slips out of the function room, worried about how she might embarrass herself in front of the whole team if Jen asks them to do more things with the balloons.

---

Late that night, a taxi drops Sam off in front of a bungalow in a quiet part of town. He shuffles up the steps and manages to unlock the door.

Inside, a television casts its sterile aurora over the living room, an orange and white cat curled up on the rug, and two people slumped in easy chairs. Some talking heads are having an animated discussion on the current broadcast, but the volume is turned down low enough that Sam can't make out any words.

"Hey, Dad. Hi, Morris. "

One chair's occupant briefly lifts a hand. The cat rolls onto its side and stretches.

"Hello to you too, Michi."

Sam heads for his room, floorboards creaking with every step, and flops face down on his bed, further rumpling his already rumpled work clothes.

Somehow, he managed to mostly keep his cool through the night, except for flinching a few times when his coworkers carelessly burst the balloons they had worked so hard to inflate.

He knows it's ridiculous for a grown man to have such fears, but he had thought he was able to hide any external signs of them. Clearly, that is still not the case.

At least I didn't go running around crying and attacking everyone in arm's reach like I did at that balloon bursting game in second grade. Everyone else seemed to be having fun though... except Eva. How did she dip out of the party before it even started without any of us noticing?

Sam can hardly blame her. Getting a balloon to the face like that has to knock you at least a bit off-center. Especially since she may have some... issues with balloons herself, if the collection I saw when I dropped by her place is any indication.

But he can't be sure. The odds of two people with the same very niche interest being on the same sales team are tiny. And bringing it up with her, even if she does share that interest? How would I go about that? What if I slip up and say something stupidly inappropriate, like 'Hey, Eva, want to blow up balloons with me? Maybe rub them on each other's bare skin?'

He buries his face in a pillow.

The rules of one of the party games Eva managed to avoid were basically "Jen drinks everyone under the table." Sam effectively played with a handicap, since he had a head start on the drinking, and his head is still swimming from it all.

But the thought of asking Eva whether she shares his desires, the thought of her maybe, just maybe, being into it, the memory of the look on her face when she saw him start inflating his balloon at Jen's party, her quick, nervous breaths engorging the white balloon as she was awkwardly turned away from him, the tiny tremors of her fingers as she deposited his balloon in his hand --all these things are also swimming in his head, and before long he is up, pulling the balloons he got from Jen out from under his bed, and walking to the bathroom with them, treading lightly to keep the creaking of the floorboards to a minimum.

When he gets there, he peels himself out of his clothes, turns on the shower, and steps into the bathtub, letting the warm water cascade over his body, before placing the wide mouthpiece of Eva's zeppelin into his mouth. It's so large it takes several breaths before the balloon even starts to stretch, but he finds himself very motivated to blow hard. Soon the balloon has nearly filled the tub, and he lays prone on top of it, grinding hungrily against it, unable to stop himself from picturing Eva doing the exact same, on the other side of town.

From the living room, the other occupants of the house hear only rushing water, and not the sound of heavy breaths and squeaking rubber that it masks.

~~~

Author's Notes:

Running around crying and attacking everyone in arm's reach as a kid because there was a balloon bursting game? Yep, I did that in real life. Not my finest hour.

Re: Imaginings

IV.

As it turns out, ZCorp wanted one last round of in-person meetings on their home turf, so a few days after Jen's party, Eva finds herself packed in a company van along with her team, waiting in the Oritek parking lot before the sun is even up.

She is stuck in the left seat in the rearmost row of the van's seats, separated by a pile of luggage from Zoran, their grey-haired team lead, who sits with his nose in a book, looking as relaxed and at home as if he had grown out of the seat cushions.

Alice, the team's master of keeping middle management's expectations reasonable, sits in the seat directly in front of her, while Sam sits to Alice's right. No mountain of bags divides them, but their extra real estate is soon gone when the door on the right side pops open and Jen climbs in.

"Driver should be here in about 3 minutes", she says as she settles in next to Sam, who looks less than thrilled as he scoots over to the middle seat.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. "I don't remember seeing your name on the ZCorp contract."

"I'm the muscle," she replies. "If we get carjacked, I use my kung fu skills to save you all."

"Very funny. Why are you really here?"

"Management wanted to see if I could tack a few more dollars onto the unit price."

"Why? Everything's signed already, and you have your own plates to spin."

"It's ZCorp, you never really know what they'll do. I'm sure you understand that better than I do, since you were on this from Day One. But anyway," she continues, unzipping her bag, "I pulled an all-nighter looking over all your work and anything even third-degree related to it, so I need to maximize the amount of this trip that I spend asleep. Good night."

She pulls a neatly folded inflatable pillow out of her bag and opens the valve, then attempts to blow into it. However, she has no success. As she strains to get the slightest amount of air in, her futile efforts make some very undignified noises, causing Zoran to slowly raise his eyes from his book and Alice to stifle a laugh.

After this goes on for a few moments that feel far too long, she waves the pillow at Sam. "Hey, any idea how this thing works?"

"You put your head on it and sleep."

"I'd reconsider that answer, Sam. I know kung fu."

"Just pinch the valve while you're blowing", he snaps. "Now please, leave me to lament my loss of legroom."

"All right, no need to take it out on me. I'm a company-mandated passenger, just like you. Jeez." She gives the valve a squeeze and tries blowing into the pillow again. This time, Eva hears the rush of Jen's breath into it. She can see that Sam is tensed up next to her, remaining quite still.

What's this, Sam? Do you just hate her guts or is there something else happening here? Eva tries to tamp down an irrational surge of jealousy as Jen finishes inflating the pillow and puts it around her neck.

Soon enough, the driver arrives and the van sets off.

---

Jen somehow manages to be completely asleep as soon as they hit the highway, and Zoran stays glued to his book as they roll past leafless trees, empty fields, and dirty snowdrifts for hours on end. Alice looks out the window the whole time, perking up every time they pass a cow or a road sign, for reasons that escape Eva, who did not have the foresight to bring a pillow like Jen and is trying to use her own window as a substitute. Sam is still hunched unhappily in the middle seat in front of her.

Just as Eva is beginning to wonder if she's lost all feeling in her legs, the driver turns off the highway. A sign posted next to the off-ramp displays a football helmet with two lightning bolts on it. Next to the helmet, it reads:

"WELCOME TO MORRIS

POPULATION 728

HOME OF THE SUPER SPEEDERS"

728 of you and not one thought to change your team logo or initials?

Questionable sports team branding aside, Morris seems at first to be a bog-standard American rural town. However, the houses are in ill repair, and chain-link and electric fences abound. The horizon is dominated by a massive grey slab of a building, the word "Z-CORP" on its facade in glowing white sans serif letters that might be the height of the town's water tower.

As the van makes it way past a cluster of graffiti-encrusted grain silos, Zoran picks up his phone and starts muttering into it. Eva can't make out what the call is about over the noise of gravel being kicked against the van's undercarriage, but he's frowning. Before long, he hangs up and leans forward to tap Jen on the shoulder.

"Tell the driver we need to make a stop," he says. "ZCorp people want a copy of the East Fork local newspaper."

"What? Why? We passed East Fork ninety minutes ago, we can't head all the way back there and still make our meeting in time! They know that!"

"What is the saying? Ours not to reason why?"

Jen presses a hand to her forehead. "Okay. How about this. There's a car rental place up ahead on my maps. We stop there, rent their cheapest car, and send someone back to get the paper while the rest of us keep going. My guess is they're checking if we can keep our eye on the ball. Better to show up on time without the paper than show up late with the paper. You're team lead, who's it going to be?"

Zoran scratches his chin. "I would send you back, since you weren't in this before, but who knows how the big bosses would take that. Eva, please handle it."

Jen signals the driver.

"Zoran", says Eva, "why me?"

"You minored in journalism, right? See if you can skim through the paper and get some clues about why ZCorp wants it. Those nutjobs still don't trust the mail, sure, but why else?"

You don't want to say it's because I'm the newest and most expendable team member, but that's fine.

"I don't trust this town," says Sam. "I'm going with her."

Zoran chuckles. "Man sees an opportunity to escape a meeting and takes it. I respect that. Go ahead."

The van pulls up in a small lot filled with cars that seem almost too shiny for being this near a gravel road. In short order, Eva and Sam have the keys to a bright yellow hatchback and are cruising back the way they came.

---

Sam and Eva pass the trip to East Fork largely in silence, until they stop at a gas station on its outskirts.

There, they check the magazine racks for the local newspaper, coming up empty-handed. The cashier tells them that the East Fork Herald no longer sells print copies. Eva asks if they can print out the digital edition, but the gas station doesn't have a printer that can do anything other than receipts. She hands the cashier her business card and politely suggests purchasing a more versatile model from Oritek.

As they work their way deeper into town, it becomes clear that very few places have a functional printer in East Fork. By the time they convince a retirement home to let them in and use the printer with which they make bingo sheets, they are running low on business cards, and it is clear that they won't make it back to Morris before the meeting with ZCorp ends.

"Great meeting you, we can't thank you enough. Larry, hope your son visits soon." Sam waves to the staff and residents as they step out of the retirement home and into the evening chill. Eva follows him to the car and enters on the passenger side.

"Nice guy, Larry," says Sam.

"I'll probably end up like him, to be honest," says Eva. "Nobody to talk to until someone needs to print the local newspaper."

Sam, about to put the key in the ignition, pauses for a moment.

"I know that feeling. People at Oritek just kind of ignored me when I first showed up, until I forced myself to attend every function, remember every birthday..."

"Is it worth it though?"

"For me, it was. Now that people know me I can dial it back to just the big events like last Friday."

"Because that went so well..."

Sam turns to look at her. "I don't really know for sure why you left early, and there's nothing wrong with the fact that you did, but I think it would have been nice if you stayed. Just to get to know m--people a little better."

Eva nods slowly. "It's so hard for me to get a read on people though..."

Sam puts the key in the ignition and turns it.

Nothing happens.

He tries again.

Still nothing.

He tries a third time.

There is an unearthly ripping and screeching noise. Both Eva and Sam jump in their seats as fumes start to seep out of the hood of the car.

Sam slaps the steering wheel. "I knew I had a bad feeling about that rental place."

~~~

Author's Notes:

Sorry about the lack of balloon action in this chapter. I may have gotten a bit carried away with getting my characters where they need to be for what comes next...

Re: Imaginings

V.

Despite their best efforts, eventually Eva and Sam agree that the yellow hatchback is a lost cause.

When the staff of the retirement home spotted the smoke coming from their hood, they had called up a mechanic, who showed up an hour later, towed it back to his shop, and worked on it for another two hours, only to tell them that he needed some parts that wouldn't come in for another two days. Sam had managed to rustle up another mechanic from a neighboring county, whose opinion matched that of the first.

Multiple calls to the other team members have gone unanswered, and with the sun long set and no place to go, they find themselves trudging to East Fork's only inn, where a neon sign advertises CO R TV and NO A ANCY.

As they enter the tiny lobby, a tired-looking woman in her fifties gives them a blank stare from the reception desk. "Sorry, we're full."

"We don't have any other options," says Sam, "and we don't want to freeze outside. We'd be happy to just sleep in the lobby if there are really no rooms available."

The receptionist considers this for a moment. "Tell you what. There's a spare room we've been clearing out. I think there's an air mattress in there. You can stay there, I don't want people having to step over you to get to my desk."

She steps out from behind the desk and leads them down a narrow hallway to a door that doesn't seem to match its frame. After she jiggles the doorknob for a few seconds, it opens, revealing a small room lit by a single incandescent light bulb. One wall is taken up by a set of shelves stacked with odds and ends. There is a tiny window, its edges streaked with dried paint. A gap-toothed, yellowing set of venetian blinds makes its best effort to cover the window. The only other furniture is a combination dresser/bench with the remains of a built-in cushion on top, horribly disfigured by cigarette burns and slashes.

"Check-out is at 12 PM tomorrow. Payment, please."

Eva drops her bags by the shelves as Sam tries to haggle the price down. She sees a large box on one shelf, labeled "Quik-Sleep", and dumps out its contents: a grey vinyl airbed with a large valve, an instruction manual, and no pump. A quick rummage through the other knick-knacks on the shelf doesn't turn one up.

Sam hands a few bills to the receptionist and closes the door, then dumps his bag down in front of it.

"Remind me to turn down every new ZCorp contract from now to the end of time." He sits on the dresser and leans his head back against the wall.

"Amen," says Eva. "Hey, uh...they do have an airbed, but no pump. I can go ask reception for one."

"Don't bother," mumbles Sam. "Lady said she was headed home for the night, and it doesn't seem like anyone is coming in for the night shift."

"What is it with pumps not being there when you need them..."

"A good salesperson shouldn't be overdependent on aids", he replies, performing a passable Jen impression. "But you must be exhausted, let me deal with it."

He pushes himself up from the dresser and takes the mattress, then collapses back down onto the dresser and starts inflating the mattress by mouth, leaning back against the wall.

Eva's pulse quickens, and the room begins to feel too small to her. She settles down cross-legged on the floor near the window, wanting to hide, but finding nowhere in the room where she isn't in plain view to Sam. She settles for awkwardly fiddling with her phone, despite the lack of reception.

It takes a while, but eventually the mattress is full and firm, and Sam lays it down on the floor. "There you go," he says, looking tired enough to slide down the wall. "You take that, I can sleep on this bench...chest...thing."

"Are you sure? I don't think you even have space to lie down there."

"I've slept on worse. Besides, well, professional boundaries and all, I wouldn't want to sleep on the same bed as you if you're not comfortable with it."

Eva sits down on the mattress.

I can't let this guy "chivalry" himself into long-term back problems.

She breathes in to steady herself.

"Sam, you need to be well rested. Zoran told us ZCorp is likely to want another meeting tomorrow, remember? Don't make a big deal out of this, just get changed to something you can sleep in and join me here. It's fine."

"For the good of the company", mutters Sam dryly. He starts to unbutton his collar. She can't keep her eyes from shooting to the deft motions of his fingers as he exposes his collarbones.

He pauses. "Could you, uh, not watch me undress?"

"What? Oh, sorry." She turns around. "Same goes for you, or HR will hear about it." She chuckles nervously.

"Of course. You can change now if you want, I won't look."

She changes her clothes quickly. The only sounds in the room are the rustling of fabric and the clinking of belts.

"Done," she says quietly.

She hears the click as he turns out the light, then feels the mattress under her press up as he lies down on the other side. As she lies back herself, she notices that Sam seems to be clinging to the far edge of the mattress, taking up as little space as he can, his arms straight down against his sides. She can't help but smile.

"Professional boundaries?" she asks.

"Professional boundaries."

"Good night."

"Night."

---

Sam wakes up to the sound of crickets, a stiff back, and a chill in the air. The room is still dark, except for the light from the streetlamps outside coming in between the gaps in the blinds, but the mattress beneath him is feeling quite flabby. Clearly, its quality is on par with the other furnishings.

He glances to his left, where Eva is curled up on her side, hugging her knees against her body. Her eyes are closed, and she is breathing slowly. He notices that her arms are covered in goosebumps.

Trying to shift as little as possible, he slowly gets up and tiptoes to his bag, picks up his jacket, and drapes it over her as a makeshift blanket.

Then, he feels his way around the mattress to the valve, finding it at the foot end of the mattress on Eva's side. He kneels down and ever-so-carefully opens up the valve. There is a quick hiss of escaping air, which he immediately stops with his finger.

He waits a few seconds to see if he disturbed Eva's sleep, but her breathing remains slow and steady, her face looking more peaceful than he's ever seen it during work hours.

Reassured, he fits the wide valve in his mouth, and exhales gradually, keeping the airflow slow to keep the sound to a minimum, keeping his eyes fixed on Eva's form for any sign that he's waking her up.

Rest up. You deserve it.

But as he focuses his attention on her, he finds it harder to keep his exhalations steady, and there is the occasional heavy rush of air from his lungs into the mattress, followed by a deer-in-the-headlights pause to make sure she's still asleep. Once her hand stirs a little, but that's all.

Eventually the mattress is plump and firm once again, and Sam closes the valve, making sure it's sealed properly. He makes his way back around to his side of the mattress and slowly lowers himself down onto it.

He closes his eyes, but he's wide awake now.

---

As Sam settles down again, Eva's eyes pop open.

She had come halfway to consciousness minutes earlier, feeling the steady flow of air into the mattress, and half-opened an eye to see the silhouette of Sam kneeling down near her feet at the end of the mattress, blowing into the valve.

At first she had thought she was dreaming, and trailed her hand against the mattress, slowly stroking the vinyl, but then she realized it was real. Not wanting him to notice she was awake and interrupt the moment, she stopped running her fingers along the vinyl and kept still, Sam's breaths sounding like they were right in her ear where it was pressed against the mattress.

Despite the cold and the mattress's partial deflation, she had managed to get a few hours of heavy sleep before this, so her body had the energy to react to these sensations quite eagerly.

For an agonizingly long time, she lies still and waits for Sam to fall asleep again, feeling like a drawn bowstring, aching to release but being held back.

When she thinks it's safe, she stretches an arm out and grabs her bag, hands shaking as she fumbles the zipper open and takes out a pack of balloons she had been planning to enjoy in the privacy of a hotel room, picking out her well-used blue 14-incher.

Lying sideways on the bed, inches away from Sam, trying to hide what she's doing under his coat, she clutches the pack of uninflated balloons to her chest, puts the blue balloon to her lips, and shakily starts to blow...

~~~

Author's notes:

Do small-town motels and inns still have "Color TV" signs out front these days? I don't know, but it's kind of iconic to me.

I hope you'll all forgive me for using the cliché "they're both secretly attracted to each other and have no choice but to sleep in the same bed" scenario, but hey, if you can't indulge in guilty pleasures on a fetish forum, what is the world coming to?

Re: Imaginings

VI.

After some time lying still, trying to wrangle his thoughts into order, Sam hears the tell-tale sound of a balloon being inflated, quiet but unmistakable. Over the past week, he's been pushing down his hopes that Eva shares his secret interests, but there is no way he can deny it now.

She's doing this right here?

He pops an eye open. Eva is still curled on her side under his jacket, facing away from him, gently squirming against the mattress as she blows into a worn-looking blue balloon. When it is firm but still has a good amount of give, she carefully half-knots it and slips it down under the jacket. He can see her gentle squirming, the jacket veiling what exactly is happening.

He finds himself wishing he had something to cover him and hide his growing arousal, but there is no way to reach his bag without alerting Eva, so he just lies there, cock at attention, hoping she doesn't turn to face him.

Soon her squirming grows more intense, punctuated by little gasps, the sound of each one sending a brief tingle of excitement and affection through Sam. He forces himself to keep still and closes his eyes.

She'll never live it down if she knows I saw her. If what happened at Jen's party sent her packing, who knows what she'll do if she finds out about this?

He hears rustling, and the sound of another balloon being blown up, probably a bigger one by the way the pitch of the sound deepens. He feels the airbed rocking softly but steadily, and soon the puffs and gasps coming from the other side of the bed are joined by muffled grunts and moans. It's taking all of Sam's willpower not to chime in with some lustful vocalizations of his own.

Before long, the rocking of the bed intensifies, the breaths into the balloon speed up and get louder - and then everything stops for a second. Sam hears a quiet hiss that must be Eva letting air out of the bigger balloon.

Did she notice me? Is she just too scared to keep going?

He peeks over at her again as she fully deflates the larger balloon. It turns out to be a crystal red one that looks like it's seen a lot of inflations and deflations. He can't be sure in the dim light, but he thinks the sweatpants Eva was wearing when they wished each other good night are now bunched around her ankles.

After a few moments, her squirming under the jacket resumes again, quickly ramping up to its previous speed, and the quiet sounds of passion escape her lips more frequently than before.

Suddenly, she pulls the jacket off her body and stuffs it over her mouth.

Simultaneously, Sam is struck with the sound of a muffled scream and the sight of Eva's bare ass twitching violently, her thighs contracting against a very wet-looking blue balloon.

Caught completely off guard, he twitches in surprise, and his hand hits her in the back.

Oh, no...

---

In an instant, Eva goes from the peak of ecstasy to the height of panic.

She bolts out of bed, nearly tripping over the pants around her ankles, and rushes for the door as she pulls them up. Sam calls for her, but her only thought is to get out of the room and disappear into the depths of the earth.

As she grabs the doorknob, she feels a firm grip on her other hand.

She turns her head just in time to make eye contact with Sam at the exact moment he realizes how sticky her fingers are, and she decides that the earth isn't deep enough to hide her shame. Somehow, face burning, she manages to blurt out:

"I-I'm so sorry, doing that right next to you--I don't know what I was thinking--please forget this ever happened--I..."

Sam releases her hand, looking like he's going through as many emotions at once as she is, and says: "If- if that's what you want. But it's been a very long day and I- I understand if you had a lot of tension built up."

She turns the doorknob.

"Eva, wait! I would hate for you to feel bad about this." Sam quickly grabs a tissue from his bag and wipes his hand. Now he's blushing, too, looking as red as he did at the office party.

She lets go of the doorknob, still mortified but also curious to see where he might go with this.

He shakes his head. "I can understand... wanting so bad that you can't stop yourself from doing wild things. And I think I might understand more than you know."

A pause follows, both of them searching the floor for the right thing to say next.

"Tell me about the balloons," says Sam. He gestures to the blue balloon, which was flung unceremoniously to the floor in Eva's rush to escape.

"I don't want to assume too much," he continues. "Tell me I didn't see what I think I saw and I'll never bring it up again, but... do they turn you on? Because they definitely turn me on."

She looks up slowly. "I... that explains some things. The signs were there, but I was so sure I was the only one..."

"Now you know," says Sam softly.

Another pause, but this one feels different somehow, warmer.

Finally, Sam speaks again.

"Eva... I don't want to be too forward, but would you like me to join you?"

He nervously runs a hand through his hair. "This is going to sound corny, but it's... a very precious thing to have someone you're on the same page with, to explore what makes them tick and brings them joy. And I hope we're on the same page right now."

Eva smiles a bit, her heart still hammering.

"You should write a novel."

Sam shakes his head. "Nobody would buy it."

She slowly reaches out and clutches his arm. "I would."

He wraps his arms around her and guides her back to the airbed.

"I knew I was a good salesman."

~~~

Author's Notes:

I don't have much to say, except: it must be great not to have to hide anymore. Good for you, my fictional creations, good for you.

Re: Imaginings

Rare to see non-pop in general indeed. And if what you wanna write is a story with small bits of smut in it, I say "go for it". You should write for yourself first and foremost. Stuff you enjoy. After all, if you do, there must be others that'd love this as well.

As for the writing, it felt solid, with the ideas and story flowing nicely and believable interactions. Can't speak on how to write sexual experience myself, since all I know is what other people wrote about it, no real experience.

On a side note, you mispelled Sam's name four sentences before the end of Act 6. It's the only thing I spotted in the whole story. ^.^

Re: Imaginings

Balloonymous - Your comments are greatly appreciated! Good catch on the typo, I went and fixed it just now.

Re: Imaginings

Personally, I love it so far! I'm so glad to see some non-pop focused work on here.

...Actually, I've been kinda down for similar reasons recently, so the themes are really resonating with me as well.

Re: Imaginings

I also really enjoyed reading the story! I think the writing was really good too. And if you want to continue I’ll for sure enjoy reading. Thanks for sharing ��

Re: Imaginings

VII.

Sam lies back on the airbed, his arms still wrapped around Eva, pulling her down on top of him. For a few moments they just stay like that, eyes darting nervously, not sure where to go from here.

"So..." she says, "professional boundaries, huh?"

They both laugh.

"It is my professional opinion," he replies, "that a happy employee is a good employee. The boundaries are wherever makes you happy."

"We'd better draw the lines then." She trails a finger down his torso, still not quite believing she's actually doing this. She feels him briefly tense up before relaxing, his hands gently rubbing her back.

"One second," he mutters. "I brought some old friends from the party last Friday. Stay right there." He moves to get up, and she rolls off of him.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out some balloons stamped with the Oritek logo. He holds up a purple and yellow one.

"This one," he says, waggling the balloon at her mischievously, "was very rude to you at the party. Smacked you right in the face. Shall I make him apologize?"

Eva strokes her chin, putting on a show of serious consideration.

"How is he going to do that? It's going to take a lot to make up for the way he made me feel..."

Sam returns to the airbed. "I'll make sure you feel something else this time, then. Just lie back, please."

As she does so, he places the deflated balloon against her crotch, pauses, and looks up at her.

She nods.

Sam lowers his head to the balloon, placing a hand on her thigh to steady himself, and begins alternately exhaling and inhaling into the balloon, making it expand and contract between her thighs, pulsing against her crotch. Eva squirms, her pussy still sensitive from her own play, but Sam holds her hips steady. He blows a few slow, deep breaths into the balloon and looks up at her.

She meets his eyes, her cheeks flushed, her chest and shoulders heaving as she tries to steady her breathing. "I..."

"Yes?"

"J-just keep blowing..."

Sam smiles. "As--" puff "you--" puff "wish..."

As he continues blowing--shorter, faster breaths now--she lets out a moan: quiet, but long and low. Her hips rock steadily against the balloon, the crotch of her sweatpants now soaked through, painting an unauthorized sticky addition over the Oritek logo. Without thinking, she reaches out and grabs Sam's head, fingers curling in his hair.

"Sam... you don't mind me doing this, right?"

"Not at all...I don't want you to worry about anything but enjoying this."

"Oh? In that case..."

Eva gently presses down on the back of his head, smushing his face against the balloon.

"Blow harder for me."

She hears him say something that sounds like a muffled "careful what you wish for", and the next thing she knows he's given her body a once-over with his hands, grabbed onto her thighs as tightly as a drowning man clinging to a life preserver, and started blowing furiously into the balloon.

She lets out a yelp like she's never heard herself make before.

"Aah, Sam! What--"

He doesn't let up. She feels the balloon become taut between her thighs, pushing back firmly as they tremble and squeeze against it. Soon the neck starts to bulge out, but Sam just keeps going, lost in what he's doing.

"Sam..."

Puff, puff, puff.

"S-Sam?"

Puff, puff, puff.

"That feels a-amazing but it's big enough..."

Sam doesn't slow down. Soon nearly the entire neck is full and stretched out.

"Sam! Don't pop it!"

Sam puts in one more breath and then stops as suddenly as he began. He loosens his grip on the nozzle and lets the neck deflate.

"Don't worry. I've had lots of practice with taking them right to the limit and no further." He lets the rest of the air out of the balloon with an unceremonious hiss.

"Why do I feel like that applies to me as well, you tease?"

"Be patient. We have so many more things to try."

He takes her hand. Even after all the stimulation she just went through, somehow that sends a shiver through her.

"And I want to see exactly what they do to you."

He picks up the deflated balloon. "Oh, I almost forgot, this whole thing was an apology for this balloon flying into your face at the party. Was it sufficient?"

"Very sufficient. The balloon is free and clear in my books. You, on the other hand, had better give me more."

"Gladly. You know, I think we'd better start by getting these sweatpants out of the way..."

~~~

Author's Notes:

Hello again! Just a mini-chapter I threw together.

I've kind of been putting this off because I'm not sure if I can write the "logistics" of two people playing with balloons like this in a realistic way, but this whole thing is just me fantasizing anyway, so I figured I'd just put my thoughts directly into text and let Eva and Sam see where the night takes them.

VIII.

Eva tries to steady her breathing as Sam slides her pants down. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yes?"

"What exactly did you do with those balloons you took from me? And... were you thinking of me when you did it?"

"I could tell you, but it might be easier to show you."

He reaches for his bag again and takes out the giant zeppelin he got from her house. She can tell from the way it's stretched and wrinkled that it's seen quite a bit of use.

"Enjoy the show," he says. "There'll be some audience participation soon." With that, he gives her a wink and starts blowing into the zeppelin.

Even with his strong breaths, the balloon is so huge that it takes some time to fill up. Eva finds her hand wandering down inside her underwear again, and she slowly starts stroking herself, lying back further on the bed, synchronizing her breaths with his.

"And to think... I could have been watching you so much earlier, if I only knew you were into this..."

Before long, the balloon is longer than she is tall. Clearly, Sam wants to make up for lost time as much as she does. He clips off the zeppelin's nozzle, quickly pulls his shirt over his head and slips out of his pants and underwear. His excitement is very visible.

"Your turn, Eva."

She doesn't need to be told twice. In moments, her shirt, bra and panties are flung to the floor.

Sam moves closer, his eyes running over her body. "Wow."

"Thanks. You're quite 'wow' yourself."

"Am I though? Well, I'm glad you think so. Now, audience participation time." He picks up the zeppelin, carefully maneuvering it so it doesn't bump into anything in the small room, and lays it down on top of her. "Why don't you give that a hug?"

Eva obliges, wrapping her arms and legs around the massive balloon, shivering as the latex rubs against her bare skin.

"You wanted to know what I did with your balloons? Well, this..." He straddles the balloon and ever-so-slowly lowers his weight onto it, then leans forward on it so that they are looking at each other through a translucent curtain of rubber, feeling the tension of the compressed air between their bodies. She can't help but glance down and see how every part of his body is outlined against the balloon, and she lets out a very undignified giggle.

"Careful not to pop it with that pointy object you have there..."

"What? Oh...that."

She giggles even more.

He smiles widely back at her and says: "You know, this might be the most ridiculous situation I've ever been in, but I'm glad you're in it with me. After all, in my mind you already were..."

He starts rocking his hips, every movement amplified through the balloon and transmitted straight to her. Without thinking, she starts rocking her hips in time with him.

"Show me... show me what you wanted to do to me."

Soon their pace picks up, the ends of the balloon bulging and contracting wildly, gasps and pants escaping from both their mouths as they press the balloon between each other as though trying to reach other through it. In no time, she can feel herself getting close again.

She reaches up around the balloon and strokes Sam's face. "Come here, you."

And with that, she opens the clip. A torrent of air comes rushing out, Sam gets closer and closer to her as the balloon shrinks, and then her arms and legs are wrapped not around the zeppelin but around his warm body, nothing in between their hips as they now rock against each other.

"Are you ready to go all the way?" he asks her, a mix of deep care and barely restrained passion and hunger in his eyes.

"Yes... do what you want with me."

He plants a kiss on her forehead as he reaches out for one of the smaller deflated balloons scattered on the bed, then gently parts her lips with his fingers and puts the balloon's neck between them.

"Listen carefully, Eva... blow for me."

As she puts her first breath into the balloon, he enters her.

"Mmmph!" She almost lets the balloon fly out of her lips as a wave of pleasure hits her, but he holds the neck in place, and the balloon grows a bit with her every moan into it.

"Good work," he pants, as he settles into a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts. "Keep going until I tell you to stop."

She can't formulate a reply. All she can do is cling tight to him and keep blowing as her heart pounds wildly.

Sam closes his eyes. "Yes... good girl."

"Mmmph?!"

"Oh, do you like being called that?"

I didn't know I did, but...

She nods frantically.

"Mmm lmmkmm mmt...Mmm lmkmm mmt!"

He puts his lips by her ear and whispers, "That's what I like to hear. Now be a good girl and keep blowing."

She complies, and finds herself increasing the pace of their lovemaking as she does so. He easily keeps up with her as the balloon starts to neck.

Even as the balloon overinflates, Eva doesn't hesitate to keep blowing fast and hard, completely overwhelmed by sensation.

"Just... five more breaths for me," Sam manages to get out, his composure giving way to pure lust. "Five more breaths... it won't burst but I think I will. Five--"

"Mmph--"

"Four--"

"Mmm--"

"Three--"

"Mmmmaaahhh!"

Eva's whole body quivers violently as her orgasm hits her. The balloon flies away as she opens her mouth to let out a loud moan.

Moments later, Sam lets out a growl as he reaches the peak of his own pleasure.

They lie there for a while, wrapped up in each other, minds completely blanked out, dizzy and delirious.

"So," says Sam eventually, "we'd better get some rest. We have a paper to deliver tomorrow." He sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

"Yeah... well, you already delivered tonight. I... wow."

"You didn't let me finish my countdown though..."

She tucks her chin in and gives him her best puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir. Please allow me to serve you properly next time."

He stares at her with his mouth open for a moment.

"I didn't realize just how much I like being called 'sir'."

She laughs. "You should see your face. It's adorable."

He snuggles in closer to her.
"I think I prefer seeing your face. Now let's get cleaned up."

---

East Fork's only inn is barely deserving of the name, as far as Jen is concerned. As she marches up to the front door, it creaks open and two familiar faces appear.

"Eva! Sam! Do you have any idea how many times I've tried to call you guys? This place is a dump but the sign outside is still lit, so don't tell me you had no power to charge your phones. We're already running later than late. Get in the van, now!"

She hustles them into the waiting vehicle without waiting for an explanation, then goes around to the driver's window. "Wait for me, I'll only be a minute."

She heads into the inn. Nobody is at the front desk, but a door is ajar.

Curious, she opens it, and finds what looks like a spare storage room. Everything is neat, clean and in place, except a balloon with the Oritek company logo lying in the corner.

Tardiness and littering. Wonderful. Well, we can't have the company's reputation taking a hit because two employees got careless. Why did they even bring this? I'll have to ask about it.

She picks up the balloon and tucks it into her blouse pocket, then heads out of the hotel.

"Okay, people, let's get moving! We have a sale to close!"

END​

~~~

Author's Notes:

It's finally done!

Like the previous chapter, this was pretty much just stream-of-consciousness typed into a text file and not a lot of editing, so it might be a bit rough.

I'm not sure why the slight dom/sub vibes crept in, but I may have been going a bit feral and just throwing in whatever turned me on at the moment. Things may have gotten a bit cheesy...

Anyway, polite critiques and comments are welcome, and thanks to everyone who's commented already.

I'm also going to be a bit shameless and say: feedback from women on what worked for you and what didn't would be helpful for me, since I want to write something that turns you on and brings you joy, but I'm just a touch-starved virgin guy with very little expertise in that field.

Thanks for reading!

No need to apologize, this was well worth the wait. Who cares if it's cheesy? It's smut, after all. Well-written smut at that. 😄

I personally love gentle dom/sub stuff like this, so this was honestly perfect. Got "wish that were me" vibes larger than that zeppelin balloon they had. Anxious to see where things may lead now that Jen has a piece of "evidence."