Chapter 2 R-18+

Well, whatever! Ichigo closed the message, and thumbed down to Rangiku's. Time to see what that fat sow wanted from him.

Rangiku Matsumoto: Hey, stud! Check out our new tops, heehee~ We're gonna wear 'em at the club tonight!

Abruptly, the train turned a tight corner. Ichigo felt himself tossed against the sliding doors. His thumb slipped at the same moment his head bumped against the glass.

He came to a slow and steady stop, shaking the stars from his vision. At first the poor boy thought maybe he'd taken a harder knock than he could have guessed.

The picture he was looking down at did seem to be the stuff of fantasies...

For a few moments, Ichigo as good as forgot he was on a train. His heart skipped a beat as he stared on at that hypnotic image.

But it didn't vanish like the fantasy he believed it to be. It remained real, tempting, just out of reach on this crowded, cramped train carriage.

The tiny screen of Ichigo's little Smartphone had become like a gate into a wild fantasy world.

The frame seemed to bulge with its contents, struggling to contain two of the largest, most earth-shaking pairs of tits he'd ever seen in his life: four head-swallowing breasts sandwiched together.

"Ghhhk..." Ichigo groaned, leaning down for a better look. He squared his shoulders and planted them on the train's window, tucking his head in-between them, and quietly filled his mind with visions of breasts.

The pair on the left were big and black. A chest of staggeringly African descent.

Even under normal circumstances, Yoruichi's mouth-watering titties could effortlessly render grown men as nursing babies, but today they'd been enhanced considerably, packed tight into a small cut-off top that barely seemed to be there at all.

They treated the tiny piece of black fabric as a joke, stretching it to beyond-breaking point with their immense size.

In every dimension, the top lost its struggle against bosom. And rightly so... World-class tits like these would never allow themselves to be concealed so easily.

Yoruichi's melons were the stuff of mens' most childish dreams... so it made perfect sense that a shirt that would have covered a regular woman's chest down to her navel looked like a wispy bra on her - and an overworked one at that!

Her udders exceeded expectations, drawing endless stares and admiration.

How was the shirt even holding up under all that weight? The expanse of cotton crossing her cleavage was stretched so thin it looked like it might tear in a heartbeat.

The writing along the chest - which he briefly registered as the word "BITCH" - was laughably stretched out. The "B" and the "H" were barely visible. The little shirt's straps straps suffered the most of all.

Where they rode up her chest to loop around behind her neck, the thin black bands half-sunk into flawless black breast-meat, almost entirely swallowed up.

And that wasn't even the hardest part to handle. Yoruichi's chest took up only half of his screen - every remaining pixel was occupied by another pair of cow-udders!

Coming in from the right, jostling for pole position, came more big, all-natural breasts. They fought Yoruichi's smooth black orbs to soothe Ichigo's wide-open eyes.

This chest was light and pale, smooth and shiny, and the perfect contrast to Yoruichi's dusky rack.

Sheets of honey-blonde hair spilled down over the flawless swells, coiling and lingering over every inch like so many perverted touches - feeling her in ways that countless men only dreamt of.

Rangiku's chest was a wonder of the world, a marvel that existed solely to turn innocent men into perverts, to fasten semen production, and most importantly of all... to help young boys grow into strong, healthy men with large, hard cocks.

Rangiku hadn't bothered with a shirt. The bust-bully had instead wrapped a ghetto-green bikini top around her shelf of knockers, holding her bust up together nice and tight.

It smooshed them up and out into a deep, deep cavern of milky-white cleavage, softness any man could get lost in. Staring directly at it made Ichigo's mouth water and his brain numb.

When they stopped at the next station, he shifted his hips away from the automatic doors to protect the hardest erection of his life.

There was only one thing that could make the shot more perfect: the girls' naughty faces, immortalized in their most perverted "Fuck me!" expressions.

But as long as those naughty double-racks occupied so much of the frame, space was limited...

Fitting their faces in as well just hadn't been possible! But there was one titillating trick in store for him riiiight at the top of the shot...

Glancing up rewarded the big-dicked hero with something a casual observer might have missed: two pairs of bright-pink lips, hovering over the shelves of torpedo tits aimed squarely at the camera.

Both of those semen-in/drool-out orifices were upturned in impish smiles riiiight at the very top of the frame, smirking at Ichigo oh-so-knowingly.

Ichigo swallowed as he looked upon those bountiful racks, and two words rose unbidden to his mind. A moment later and it was on his lips: "Baby... Feeders..."

He failed to cope. Ichigo struggled to calm himself down, but his heart raced in his chest.

Just a glimpse of those incredible tits had completely destroyed his brain.

He struggled to tap the buttons of his phone (whether to close the message or reply, he couldn't be sure), and he couldn't. The tit-brainwashed boy's hands shook far too much.

The doors opened with a ding, and a Japanese woman's voice sweetly announced, "Roppongi!" Ichigo forced himself to lurch off the train.

He collapsed into the first seat he saw, sagging under the weight of what those chests had done to him.

Now the tall, hung bull had two messages to reply to. The one his heart called towards... And the one his strong urge to procreate drew him to.

He swallowed, took a gulp of water, and then held his phone with both hands. Ichigo made his decision.

Rukia could wait a little bit, right?

Right!

They knew where they were meeting, and they knew when they were meeting.

All the details had been taken care of, it was just a question of meeting up at the restaurant with the present, then treating his beautiful wife to all the love he had for her!

That would be simple enough. Downright easy! He could do it in his sleep.

Which might be a good thing... Meeting with those two big-breasted vixens might leave Ichigo completely drained, after all.

He tapped out a reply to the teasing temptresses' message, eagerly responding that he could see them... Although he did have a little something to get to afterwards. Nothing important, really.

He took care to stress that he would be hard-dic - hard-pressed to pass up some time with his favorite two honeys! Ichigo tapped "send" as he rose shakily from his seat, heading towards the gift shop... A quick stop-off for Rukia's presents, and then meeting the girls at the club.

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