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Description

+++++++++++ "Of course I can fit in your car!" -suggestion via an anonymous commenter +++++++++++

Melissa wasn't going to let trivial things like comfort, personal space considerations, or decorum stop her from squeezing into this clown car. If she vowed she'd fit, then she would.

She tried the door handle again, but her right breast and hip were rubbery, blubbery bumpers preventing it from latching. She was going to have to move further over. "I'm going to scooch to the left, OK? There might be some... contact involved. Don't freak out." When Melissa shifted her bulk, the car rocked on its springs, creaking, complaining. She felt her thigh try to engulf the shift lever. Her chest slid along the dash and deformed against Nate's shoulder and arm. Melissa jerked the door shut and this time it latched with an unconvincingly tinny click.

Rather than being triumphant about her achievement, she just felt hungry and cranky and gross. Nate's econobox was a metal straitjacket. Every part of her body was squished and mashed against something else. Her boobs were piled so high in front of her that they made seeing out of the windshield difficult. "I don't wanna hear any airbag jokes."

"Noted." Nate pulled out of his parking spot slowly, working the stick shift that was halfway embedded in her leg with as much care as possible. So far he was handling the situation well.

So well that she felt guilty bringing up the matter of their bet. "Since I was able to fit inside your ridiculous car, I believe you owe me lunch."

"I'm a man of my word." He didn't sound too broken up about it.

Description

+++++++++++ "Of course I can fit in your car!" -suggestion via an anonymous commenter +++++++++++

Melissa wasn't going to let trivial things like comfort, personal space considerations, or decorum stop her from squeezing into this clown car. If she vowed she'd fit, then she would.

She tried the door handle again, but her right breast and hip were rubbery, blubbery bumpers preventing it from latching. She was going to have to move further over. "I'm going to scooch to the left, OK? There might be some... contact involved. Don't freak out." When Melissa shifted her bulk, the car rocked on its springs, creaking, complaining. She felt her thigh try to engulf the shift lever. Her chest slid along the dash and deformed against Nate's shoulder and arm. Melissa jerked the door shut and this time it latched with an unconvincingly tinny click.

Rather than being triumphant about her achievement, she just felt hungry and cranky and gross. Nate's econobox was a metal straitjacket. Every part of her body was squished and mashed against something else. Her boobs were piled so high in front of her that they made seeing out of the windshield difficult. "I don't wanna hear any airbag jokes."

"Noted." Nate pulled out of his parking spot slowly, working the stick shift that was halfway embedded in her leg with as much care as possible. So far he was handling the situation well.

So well that she felt guilty bringing up the matter of their bet. "Since I was able to fit inside your ridiculous car, I believe you owe me lunch."

"I'm a man of my word." He didn't sound too broken up about it.