First of Booties(Updated)

She catches me red-handed, or rather, red-eyed, her head tilting like a curious puppy. "Darling, why do you keep looking at my chest?"

Shit, busted. But come on, those things are like fucking catnip, drawing my eyes in like a moth to a flame. I'm just a guy, okay? A guy with a serious appreciation for shiny stuff and perfect racks. But I can't just say that, can I? Gotta play it cool, keep the creep factor to a minimum.

I flash her a sheepish grin, like I'm some innocent choir boy. "Oh, uh, just admiring the craftsmanship. Those gems are something else."

Smooth, real smooth. She's either buying it or she's too polite to call me out on my bullshit. Either way, I'll take it.

She glances down at her chest, then back up at me, all wide-eyed and innocent. "You think they're beautiful?"

Beautiful? Honey, beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it. They're fucking magnificent. Like two perfect, sparkling globes of awesome. I could write poems about them, paint masterpieces dedicated to them. But I should probably just say something before I start drooling.

"Absolutely," I say, my voice dipping low like I'm sharing some big secret. "They're stunning. Mind if I take a closer look?"

She pauses, and for a second, I think she's onto me. But then she nods, stepping closer. "Okay, Darling. If you think they're beautiful."

Holy shit, she's actually going for it. This is like every fucking holiday rolled into one glorious, shiny-titted package. I make a mental note to high-five fate later.

I reach out, palms facing her like I'm some kinda tit-whisperer. She watches me, her tail gently swaying, totally clueless about what's coming. I cup her breasts, the gems cool against my skin, and give them a gentle squeeze.

Fuck me sideways, they're perfect. Size, shape, those damn gems—it's like someone plucked every dirty thought I've ever had and turned it into the ultimate breastacular masterpiece. I could cry tears of joy right now.

But I'm not gonna. 'Cause I'm too busy enjoying the hell out of this moment. So I dive in, ready to explore every shiny, perfect inch of her chest. Let the good times roll.

I press them together, my thumbs brushing over those damn gems like they're the keys to heaven. She squirms, her legs doing this little dance beneath her, and yeah, I can feel her discomfort. But fuck me sideways, these things are a goddamn revelation.

I mean, seriously, why the hell does Mewtwo have tits that could make angels weep? It's like holding two celestial peaches wrapped in velvet, fucking hallowed ground right there in my hands. The texture is out of this world, familiar enough to know it's all boob, but fucking alien at the same time. This chick is a walking, talking cheat code, and I could spend eternity just playing with these bad boys.

But she's squirming, and I don't wanna freak her out too much. Gotta keep it cool, Darling. At least for now.

I keep going, squeezing and pressing them together, my eyes glued to those gems like they're the holy fucking grail. She squirms again, her tail whipping around faster now. I can see the confusion in her eyes, and damn if that innocence doesn't make this all the more thrilling.

Shit, I should probably stop. She's getting uncomfortable, and I don't wanna push my luck. I mean, I've already gone further than I ever dreamed. Don't wanna ruin it by being too goddamn greedy.

I let go with a cough, stepping back like a gentleman. "Sorry about that," I say, trying to keep the shit-eating grin off my face. "Got a little distracted by their beauty."

She looks down at her chest, then back at me, her eyes fucking saucers of confusion. "It's okay, Darling. I just... I've never felt anything like that before."

And you won't anytime soon, sweetheart. Not unless I'm around, anyway. Fuck, I'm a lucky bastard. Now, let's get back to the small talk and pretend like I didn't just have a field day with her tits.

"So, how did you feel?" I ask, keeping it light and breezy.

She glances down at her chest again, then back at me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Your hand felt a bit hot when it touched my skin. And when you squeezed them, it felt strange but also good."

Hehe, that's the magic of my hands, baby. I've got the touch, the power, yeah.

"Hehe, that's the magic of my hands," I say, winking at her like a fucking magician.

She giggles, her tail swishing faster behind her. "Really? It felt... different. But nice."

Fuck yeah, it did. And I'm just getting started, kiddo.

She moves closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and holy shit, she's squishing those perfect tits right against my chest. This girl is gonna be the death of me, but what a fucking way to go.

"Uh, sure thing," I say, trying to keep my cool even as my heart's pounding like a drum. "But maybe we should take a little break first. Don't want to overload your senses too much."

She pouts slightly, her tail drooping a bit. "But I liked it. It felt good."

I swear to god, this chick is going to break me

Fuck, she's adorable. And those boobs pressed against me are driving me insane. I'm trying to keep my cool, but let's be real, my mind is screaming, "BOOBS! BOOBS! BOOBS!" like a fucking broken record.

"Alright, alright," I say, chuckling like I'm not mentally drooling over her chest. "But let's make a deal. You tell me more about what makes you happy, and I'll give you another dose of the magic hands."

She nods eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Deal! I like to imagine things. Amber taught me how to use my mind to create pictures. I close my eyes and think of what she told me about the outside world, and I try to see it in my head."

Damn, she's got some imagination. And those boobs are still pressed against me. Focus, Darling. Focus.

"That's a wonderful skill," I say, trying to keep my mind off her chest. "You know, in the world outside, there are things called dreams. People close their eyes at night and see all sorts of amazing things in their minds, just like you do."

She nods, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. "Dreams? I like that. Can you tell me more about them? And what about you? What makes you happy?"

Oh, where do I even begin?

"Well, dreams are like these crazy stories your brain makes up while you're sleeping," I say, leaning back and trying to look all philosophical. "Sometimes they're awesome, like you're flying or eating the best pizza ever. Other times, they're weird as hell, like you're being chased by a giant talking banana."

She giggles, her tail swishing faster behind her. "A giant talking banana? That sounds silly!"

Yeah, it does. But it's also fucking hilarious.

"Exactly! Dreams can be silly, scary, or just plain weird. But they're always interesting," I say, grinning. "And as for what makes me happy... well, booties, they make me happy! In fact, I'm on a mission to collect the finest booties in the world."

She tilts her head, her eyes wide with confusion. "Booties? What are booties?"

Oh boy, here we go.

"Booties, my dear, are the ultimate prize in the game of life," I say, leaning in and lowering my voice. "They're the round, juicy, perfectly shaped ass cheeks that make a man want to bury his face in them and spend the rest of his life just... snu snuing away."

She blinks, her tail swishing softly behind her. "Snu snu? What does that mean?"

Fuck it, I'm going all in.

"Snu snu, my dear, is the sound of a man face-deep in a pair of perfect booties, just enjoying the fuck out of life," I say, grinning. "It's the sound of pure, unadulterated bliss. The kind of bliss that makes a man forget about all his problems and just... snu snu away."

She tilts her head, her eyes wide with wonder. "But wouldn't that make you feel suffocated? Why would anyone want to do that?"

Damn, she's got a point. But fuck it, I'm not about to let logic ruin my fantasy.

"Death by snu snu is the best kind of death, my dear," I say, leaning back and sighing wistfully. "It's like heaven on earth. And who cares about breathing when you've got a pair of perfect booties to bury your face in?"

She looks down at herself, then back up at me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Do I have booties?"

Oh, she's about to find out.

She looks down at herself, then back up at me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Then... like this?" she asks, spinning around and giving me an eyeful of her own damn fine booty. She wiggles her hips, making her ass cheeks jiggle enticingly.

I nearly swallow my tongue. "Fuck, yes, just like that. It's good enough," I say, gulping. They were more than good enough; they were what Jesus died for...

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