My Balloon Boobs and a Night with Another Transvestite

Hi again. I got back the account that had been blocked, and I know I left you hanging for a good while, so I hope you make it to the end. Who knows, maybe someone will feel inspired after reading this.

These past few months I kept doing my thing, nothing too wild, but with a couple of encounters that were worth it. I was with a mature lady who knew exactly what she was doing, and with a trans girl I went out with several times. The two of us would get ready together like little girls, lend each other clothes, and tell each other everything. You already know about my fascination with nipple clamps and with women who have experience. But one day I wanted something more.

I wanted to feel weight. I wanted to fill a real bra, for the space in the baby doll I had bought not to sink flat against my chest. I tried socks, fabric stuffing, everything I could think of, and it was never the same. What was missing was the feeling of carrying something hanging there, something alive stuck to my body.

One night, reading stories on this same site, I found one by a girl who said she simulated her bust with balloons filled with warm water. She said it felt as if she had two big tits, whatever size she wanted. I read it twice and the next day I was already at the stationery shop buying balloons: white, red, blue, orange, all colors and sizes.

The warm water did almost all the magic. Some balloons turned out well, but something was still missing. After trying several, I landed on number five, medium-sized, which were perfect. I filled them with water, and the little tip left in the knot I rested right on my nipple. It pressed down, and I felt something hanging there, glued to me. The problem was the weight: no matter how I adjusted it, the balloon ended up slipping off and falling.

I had the solution tucked away for a while in a drawer. Instant glue, that little drop that joins anything in seconds. I put a thin layer on each nipple and placed the balloons on top.

What a discovery.

The balloon settled in and stayed attached to my nipple as if it were part of me. And the best part came afterward: when the glue dried, it hardened, and the pressure on the nipple became intense, constant. They no longer fell off. It felt like something was biting me there, a bite that wouldn’t let go. I got hard instantly, and I ended up masturbating in spectacular fashion, with a load of cum that I sometimes tasted without disgust.

In time I found the perfect measure. I used a bottle to dose the water and get a bust neither too big nor too small, one that filled my bras and the lace clothes I like to wear. The glue, besides, made my nipples incredibly sensitive, as if every brush of fabric went straight through my whole body. I went out a couple of nights in sheer blouses that let a good cleavage be guessed at. I learned that pink and orange balloons, under a black blouse, create an effect very similar to skin tone.

But you know how this is: I always want more.

***

One afternoon I opened the refrigerator and saw some good-sized carrots. I didn’t think twice. A little lubricant cream and in they went. Another wonderful experience, another hard-on that doesn’t calm down on its own. Afterward I tied a balloon to the base of the carrot with a ribbon so I could remove it carefully from my little hole. Depending on the thickness, the entrance hurts more no matter how much cream I put on it, but once it’s inside, with the fake tits and the carrot filling me up, the pleasure is enormous.

I started going out like that at night. Tight black pants, stockings underneath, and on certain quiet streets even heels. The silhouette was deceptive: it looked like I was wearing women’s pants, and more than once some stranger who had no idea what I was hiding under my clothes threw a compliment my way.

It was around then that I arranged to meet Renata, a girl I met on this site. We agreed to meet at a café to talk about our experiences. The two of us showed up wearing lingerie under men’s clothes, the same secret game. The only detail giving us away was that neither of us wore socks, and stockings peeked out from the hem of our pants. She was curious about my nipples with clamps and balloons, like so many others. She told me we should go to a hotel to see it live, and that she had brought a gift.

We agreed to change separately, one in the bathroom and the other in the room, and to show ourselves only when we were both ready. I chose the bathroom. I put on flesh-colored stockings with a garter belt, a short skirt, boots, my orange carrot deep inside, a black bra, the black balloons —which she had asked me not to glue on yet, because she wanted to see how I did it—, a sheer blouse and red lipstick.

When I came out, I saw her. She was wearing silver leggings, a pink blouse, gorgeous silver sneakers, and lipstick in the same shade. Her eyes went straight to my nipples.

—Show me —she said, almost out of breath—. I can’t wait to see how you do it.

I took off my blouse and bra. To my surprise, she pulled out her own glue, the brush kind. She kept looking at the size of my nipple, amazed.

—It’s huge —she murmured.

She touched it, massaged it, and that instantly lit me up. I spread the glue over each nipple and, while it dried, placed the balloons. She watched, hypnotized, as my fake tits hung there. I put the bra over them and massaged them from the outside; since they were glued on, I felt every caress go all the way in.

—I don’t want you penetrating me —she told me—, but I brought something so we can both enjoy ourselves.

She pulled my skirt down. She took off her leggings. The two of us were nicely shaved, both wearing stockings. From her bag she took out a double vibrator, one of those long ones with two tips. She coated it with Vaseline, and back to back we each slid it into our own little hole. Our asses bumped into each other, we pushed to feel it deeper, giving each other mutual pleasure in that strange position, both of us on all fours, each pulling on her end.

***

We finished at almost the same time, breathless, laughing at how absurd and delicious the scene was.

Afterward she asked me to help her put on some clamps she had brought, but she couldn’t stand the pain for even a second. We tried with the balloons, and they were too big for her small nipple. So I took out some I had been carrying, the kind they call snake balloons, thin and long. I put them on and she screamed, half pain, half pleasure. She pulled on them herself, which hurt even more, to the point that she almost cried.

Before leaving, I cut the little tip off those thin balloons, about a centimeter, glue again, and fitted them right where they sat perfectly on my nipple. With the rubbing of the shirt, those made me hop with every step. I have to confess that those last ones inflame my nipples a lot, and when I take them off it hurts quite a bit.

That was my last live experience with someone. In private I keep going with my adventures at home, with my carrots and my balloons, which have given me a couple of fake little tits that I love having.

If anyone is interested in photos or in a meeting that’s one hundred percent safe for both of us, we can talk it over calmly. I look forward to your comments.