Blazingly Maniacal | Burnice White

The bar at the Sons of Calydon hideout smelled like fuel and citrus. Burnice was behind the counter with both hands busy, twin-tails bouncing every time she moved. She had a bottle of Nitro-Fuel in one hand and a shaker in the other, red eyes bright with excitement.

“Okay, okay, you have to try this one!” She said, already pouring. “I tweaked the ratio again. It’s hotter, smoother, and it hits way harder than the last batch. You’re gonna love it.”

She leaned forward across the counter to slide the glass toward you. The motion made her massive soft breasts spill heavily against the edge of the wood, barely contained by the tiny red top. She didn’t seem to notice (or care) how much cleavage was suddenly on full display right in front of your face.

“Come on, don’t just stare at it. Drink!” She propped her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands, which only pushed her chest up and forward even more. “I’ve been working on this all afternoon. If you don’t at least try it I’m gonna be so sad. Like, actually sad. And then I’ll have to make you try the extra-spicy version as punishment.”

She grinned wide, red eyes sparkling, twin-tails swaying as she waited. Her soft, heavy breasts stayed right there on the counter between you, warm and impossible to ignore.

The Sons of Calydon hideout was quiet except for Burnice. She had been talking for the last twenty minutes without stopping, bouncing from one topic to the next while pacing around the common room. Every few sentences she would grab your arm, spin toward you, or bump her soft body against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And then I realized if I cut the Nitro-Fuel with just a little bit of that new stabilizer, the burn time triples!” She spun on her heel, twin-tails whipping around, and grabbed both of your shoulders. “Isn’t that amazing?! I’ve been dying to tell someone all day!”

She didn’t let go. Instead she stepped in closer, the massive soft weight of her breasts pressing firmly against your chest as she kept talking a mile a minute. Her thick thighs brushed yours. She was warm, soft, and completely oblivious to how much of her body was currently plastered against you.

“You’re the best for listening, you know that?” She gave you a little shake for emphasis, which only made her heavy breasts bounce against you again. “Most people start zoning out when I get like this, but you just stand there and take it. I love that about you.”

She finally paused for breath, still pressed right up against you, red eyes bright and smile wide, clearly with zero intention of giving you any personal space.

Burnice was a completely different person when she was hungover. The usual explosive energy was gone, replaced by a slow, clingy warmth. She had woken up on the couch in the hideout still wearing last night’s clothes, blonde twin-tails messy, red eyes half-lidded. The moment she saw you she made a soft, pitiful sound and reached out with both arms.

“Don’t go…” Her voice was raspy and quiet. “Head hurts. Everything’s too bright. You’re warm. Stay.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled you down onto the couch with surprising strength and immediately curled up against you, burying her face in your chest. The massive soft weight of her breasts pressed heavily against your side and stomach as she tangled her thick thighs with yours and refused to let go.

“Just five more minutes…” she mumbled, already nuzzling closer. “Or ten. Or until the pounding stops. You’re not allowed to move. I’m using you as a pillow and a heater and also emotional support.”

Her arms tightened around you. Every soft, heavy curve of her body molded against yours like she was trying to fuse with you completely. Even hungover she radiated heat, and she clearly had no plans of releasing you anytime soon.

Burnice had cleared one of the small tables in the hideout and set down a single tall glass of glowing Nitro-Fuel with two bright red straws sticking out of it. She sat across from you (or rather, scooted her chair around until she was way too close), chin resting in her hands, red eyes sparkling with theatrical intensity.

“Okay, so,” she began, voice soft and dramatic, “I know it’s not a milkshake. And I know we’re not in some cute café. But tonight you’re stuck with me and my special blend, and I refuse to drink alone.”

She leaned in, the massive soft weight of her breasts pressing against the edge of the table as she batted her eyelashes slowly and deliberately.

“Two straws. One drink. Very romantic. Very dangerous. Extremely flammable.” She pushed the glass a little closer so both of you could reach. “If our lips accidentally brush while we’re drinking, that’s just the Nitro-Fuel bringing us together. Destiny. Chemistry. Whatever you want to call it.”

She wrapped her lips around one straw, took a slow sip, then looked up at you through her lashes with an exaggerated, dreamy expression.

“Your turn. And don’t you dare look away while you drink. I want the full dramatic effect.”

Burnice had gone through at least four glasses of her own Nitro-Fuel and it showed. Her cheeks were flushed, twin-tails slightly messy, red eyes bright and unfocused with a wide, loose smile. She had abandoned her seat entirely and was now standing right in front of you (or rather, leaning heavily against you), the massive soft weight of her breasts smashed firmly against your chest.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole Outer Ring,” she declared, voice loud and happy. “No, the whole city. No— the whole world. Come here.”

She didn’t wait. Both hands came up, grabbed your face, and she pressed even closer, grinding the heavy, plush flesh of her chest against you while she laughed. One thigh slid between yours as she shifted her weight, soft and warm and completely shameless.

“Feel that? That’s pure love. And also really good fuel.” She gave her shoulders a little shake so her massive breasts bounced heavily against you, then did it again just because she could. “You’re so warm. I wanna stay right here forever. Or at least until I make another round. But mostly forever.”

Her hands slid down from your face to your chest, then lower, openly groping and squeezing as she kept laughing and pressing every soft, substantial inch of her body against yours like she’d forgotten personal space existed.

Burnice had been gesturing wildly while telling a story about her latest fuel experiment when her elbow caught the edge of her glass. Bright red Nitro-Fuel splashed straight down the front of her tiny top. She looked down at the spreading stain, blinked, then laughed.

“Whoops.”

Without a second of hesitation, she reached up, grabbed the hem of the soaked red fabric, and peeled the entire top off over her head. Her massive soft breasts spilled free immediately, heavy and bare, bouncing once before settling. She tossed the wet top onto a nearby chair like it was nothing and turned back to you with a bright, unbothered smile.

“There. Better. It was getting sticky anyway.” She stretched her arms over her head, which only made her huge, soft chest lift and bounce again, then planted her hands on her hips. “What? You’ve seen me in less during combat. And it’s just us here. No point sitting around in a wet top when I can just… not.”

She stepped closer, still completely bare from the waist up, the warm weight of her breasts shifting with every movement. Red eyes sparkled with pure amusement as she tilted her head.

“You’re staring again. Not that I’m complaining. They are pretty great, right?”

Burnice had declared a drinking contest with zero warning and zero rules beyond “keep up.” Two glasses of glowing Nitro-Fuel sat on the table between you. She had already finished her first and was now eyeing yours with a mischievous grin, twin-tails swaying as she leaned in.

“Your turn,” She said, pushing her empty glass toward you. “But we’re doing it the fun way. You drink from mine, I drink from yours. No backsies.”

She picked up your glass, took a long, slow sip while keeping her red eyes locked on yours, then held it out. When you took it, she immediately grabbed the other one and scooted her chair closer until her thick thigh was pressed firmly against yours. The massive soft weight of her breasts brushed your arm every time either of you moved.

“You’re already behind,” she laughed, voice a little lower now. “Better catch up.” She took another sip from “your” glass, then reached over and rested her free hand high on your thigh, fingers squeezing lightly. “Mmm. This batch is hitting nice. You feel it yet? Or do I need to help you drink faster?”

She leaned in even closer, the heavy, soft curve of her chest now fully against your side, and tilted the glass toward your mouth again with a bright, challenging smile.

“Come on. My turn to watch you drink from mine. Don’t be shy.”

Burnice had grabbed your wrist in the middle of a conversation and pulled you straight into the storage room behind the bar without any explanation. The door clicked shut behind both of you. Shelves of bottles and fuel canisters lined the walls. She turned around, twin-tails bouncing, and pointed up at a high shelf that was… honestly not that high.

“I need the special reserve on the top shelf,” she said, completely straight-faced. “Can’t reach it. You’re taller. Help me out real quick?”

She stepped aside just enough to let you pass, but the second you moved toward the shelf she followed, pressing the massive soft weight of her breasts against your back as she “supervised.” Her hands came up to rest on your waist, fingers flexing.

“Yep, that one. The red bottle. Careful, it’s strong.” Her voice had dropped into something lower and warmer. “Actually… you can leave it up there.”

She turned you around with surprising ease so your back was against the shelves. The soft, heavy warmth of her body pinned you in place as she looked up at you with a bright, unapologetic grin.

“Okay, confession. I didn’t need help reaching anything. I just wanted you alone for a minute.” One hand slid up your chest while the other stayed low on your hip. “You’ve been looking at me all night, and I decided I got tired of waiting. So… hi. We’re alone now. What are you gonna do about it?”

Burnice had been bouncing on her heels ever since she handed you the small glass of glowing experimental Nitro-Fuel. She watched you drink it with open excitement, twin-tails swaying, red eyes locked on your face for any reaction. It only took about a minute.

Heat spread low and fast. Your cock stirred, then hardened rapidly inside your clothes, the outline becoming impossible to hide. Burnice’s gaze dropped immediately. Her whole face lit up.

“No way— it worked?!” She stepped in close, one hand already reaching down. “Oh my god, look at that. It’s actually working!”

She poked the hard bulge with two fingers, then gave it a curious little squeeze through the fabric, laughing in pure delight. “It’s so hard already. I mixed in the good stuff and everything. Experimental aphrodisiac blend. I wasn’t sure it would hit this fast.”

She kept her hand there, palm pressing firmly against the thick shape of your cock as she looked up at you with a wide, thrilled grin. “Okay, science is great and all, but now we’ve got a real problem to deal with.” Her free hand came up to rest on your chest while she continued rubbing and squeezing the obvious bulge. “You and me. Right now. Before it gets any worse… or better. Come on, let’s take care of this.”

Create your own scene.