By Balloonie-cat Inflated



This story is © Balloony-cat Inflated (AKA Lord Balloony-cat Inflated) as of 4/22/2005. All rights are reserved, but you can repost this wherever you like as long as my name is on it, you are not selling it, and you haven’t changed the content in any way.


This story is not intended as a substitute for peanut butter, sleep, sex, aftershave, before-shave, or good fiction.


Enough mumbo-jumbo, on with the show:


            “So, how’s my pregnant princess?” the inflatable tiger asked his mate, putting a hand on her warm, cub-swollen belly.

            “A little crazed,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “No matter how much gas I suck from the tanks at home and at work, it seems like I always want more, and these weird cravings keep springing on me out of nowhere. Today, I was on my way to meet you here, and I suddenly felt like my life depended on getting a banana split.”

            “I guess that explains the pop corn,” he said. On their way into the theatre, she had suddenly begged him to go back for popcorn, even though the show was about to start. He had come back with an extra large tub, and she had emptied it almost before he could sit down.

            She seemed about to say something, but the lights were dimming, so they turned to watch the screen. A few minutes passed without incident, and then the tiger sensed movement next to him. His eyes were on the screen, and he didn’t think anything was amiss, until he suddenly felt his mate’s hand pull down his zipper and reach inside.

            Briefly, as she extracted his penis from his pants, he worried about them being spotted, even though it was dark and they were seated relatively far from everyone else. Then she took him in her mouth and began to suck energetically, and his worries were swept away. His head rolled back and his tongue lolled in pleasure, while his hands wandered together and began to caress her head very gently.

            Usually, his mind was a blur of pleasure when she gave him head, but this time, a thought managed to intrude: a memory of her comments on sucking gas and sudden cravings. He looked down at her dimly visible form, eyes wide with surprise as he realized why she was doing this.

            He tried to muster the will to stop her before it was too late, but her attentions rendered him powerless; the best he could do was prolong his own pleasure by forcing his attention onto the movie. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was watching, but it was several minutes before she managed to excite him to the point of no return.

            As his loins began to slowly tense, the tiger clenched his teeth, determined to climax silently. A moment later, he shuddered and groaned as he came, beginning to spray forth a mixture of semen and air. As he expected, his mate redoubled her attentions; she had a sudden craving for tiger gravy, and she needed to suck some more gas.

            Even through the ecstasy of orgasm, the tiger could already feel what she was doing to him. His flesh was starting to soften a bit, and his limbs and eyelids were starting to feel heavy. His mate was sucking out his seed and his air, and though he couldn’t see her belly, he could imagine her starting to balloon in the seat beside him.

            He expected things to stop when his climaxes ended, but to his surprise, he continued to feel himself losing air; his mate’s sucking action seemed to be keeping him open. Again, he had a momentary idea of stopping her, but again, he found himself powerless. Though his orgasm had come and gone, he was surprised to find the sucking was still quite pleasurable. If anything, the feeling of being slowly deflated only added to the experience, and he couldn’t muster the will to make it stop.

            The tiger was beginning to sink into his chair as his mate milked him. Wrinkles and creases were starting to form on his skin, and he found himself getting sleepier by the moment. His mind felt distant and foggy, and his limbs felt like lead weights. Soon, she had sucked away so much air that he couldn’t move at all, except to yawn with increasing frequency. Even that became impossible a few seconds later, and at the same time, his eyes slid shut.

            Dimly, he imagined her as she must look now, resting beside him on a belly the size of a weather balloon, growing larger and larger as she sucked at his crotch. His erection was finally dying from sever lack of air pressure, but the image of her growing so round and fat on his gas brought a final moment of firmness to its length. He thought he felt her smile around it. Then she sucked a little harder, and he drifted off to sleep.

            Breathing heavily and blushing profusely, the tigress lay atop her huge tummy for a few seconds, staring at the dimly illuminated, empty skin of her mate. Even though his penis was still held loosely in her mouth, she could hardly believe it: she had just, in a crowded theater, sucked away all of his air and seed, and all because of a sudden craving. Her head spun at the thought.

            Recovering her senses a bit, she used the arm of the seat for leverage, rolling her ridiculously fattened body backward until she could stand on her feet. Then, still hardly able to believe what had just happened, she stuffed her deflated mate into her purse and waddled out as quickly and discretely as a tigers with a three foot belly possibly could.




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