You look up and all you see are tits. God, you love that angle of looking up at the bottom of a woman's big tits.
Somewhere above the tits, you make out some eyes and a blonde head of hair looking down at you.
"You're new, aren't you?" she asks with a sexy, stoned sounding voice reminiscent of Drew Barrymore. She is seemingly tall, and wearing a hip-hugging "My Chemical Romance" shirt with some weird black and white designs on it. Her sleeves are bare, and her wrists are covered with numerous neon-colored bracelets, all resting upon each other. You are at eye level with her crotch, and she is wearing a punk-rock style belt that is solid white with lots of iron holes, holding up a tight pair of stone-washed blackish gray jeans that are torn at the knees. You had no idea stone-washed jeans were making a comeback.
"Yeah. ...I mean Jace. Jace Jackson, actually." You suddenly shyly dart your eyes down, and you note how prominent your huge soft cock looks in your jeans at this moment and you wonder if she notices.
"Hmm...nice to meet you, Jace Jackson. Can I sit down?"
You nod very agreeably. She sits down, and you immediately notice her tits. While not as huge as they appeared when you looked up at them, they are at least a C cup and seem very full, as her chest seems much wider than her otherwise slim frame. |