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Heat
By Birdie

The paving stones of the small square burned the soles of his feet through the thin sandals. His back was running with sweat, and the T-shirt stuck to it. Jacob looked around the square, air shimmering in the mid-day heat. All the shops were closed for the siesta - but where was Merete?

They had all walked single file across the white-burned rocks of the island. Merete had been in animated conversation with their Greek guide Costas - of the white teeth and swelling muscles - all the way. Standing there, at the top of the island, had seemed like flying. When they saw the eagles, it seemed they could take off and join them in soaring over the hot cliffs and the brilliantly azure sea. Merete had been as fascinated as he, watching the two huge birds circling in the still air. Costas had pointed them out to her with a black-nailed finger. She seemed to understand this amateur Adonis' every word.

Jacob had used his camera and the new zoom lens for all they were worth, capturing golden feathers ruffled by the wind of the bird's passage through the sky, and when he looked up from the viewfinder, the others had gone ahead. Since the tour was to end here, in the square, he'd come directly here, skipping the last part of the tour, to wait for the others. When they arrived, Merete and Costas had gone off to fetch water, leaving the rest of them to talk among themselves.

He clutched the camera. He might be able to sell these eagle pictures to one of the big nature or ornithology magazines? They might turn out well enough for that. In his mind, he was already busy writing the article.........."The realm of the Golden Eagle".

Dust from the sandy path over the hill was clogging his throat. Irritably, he pulled the plastic bottle from his backpack and poured the rest of his lukewarm water down his throat. It tasted of plastic. Boiled plastic, at that. He shook the last drops out over his face and chest, soaking the T-shirt. Everyone else went back to their hotels, and the square emptied.

Jacob sat down in one of the chairs in front of the tavern. He was worried about last night. It was as if his dick had been too short.......as if he'd lacked staying power.....as if something had been all, totally wrong. Merete had lain there like one listening for a tune that is never quite the right one. They had worked on it all through the hot, still nights, but the more they made love the worse it seemed to get. Last night he had - to his horror - found himself dreaming of breasts. Not Merete's pert little girl's tits, but huge, pendulous ones. He was embarrassed. And confused. As if she didn't have enough hang-ups about her small breasts! When they had met, he had reassured her. Her tits were just right - pert, saucy, firm and lovely, just the way he liked them. But here and now, with plenty of time for dreaming, making love, sleeping and fantasizing, he missed feeling his hands filled. To squeeze a big, soft, warm breast. Or he grasped her buttocks, secretly wishing her breasts were the same size.

The shadows were lengthening by the grocer's crates of freshly picked herbs and greens. The wild thyme sent out a heady scent in the mid-day heat, and the taverna waiter was snoring away in a tilted-back chair in the shade. An old man sat clicking his rosary beads. The sound seemed to fill the entire square. "Click.......click.....click........" A chickadee started screeching in the tree above him. The entire town seemed fast asleep. Where the Hell was she gone? He got up and walked towards what passed for a main street in this Godforsaken place. Looked down little alleyways. Returned to the taverna - and felt stupid. His Merete had vanished into thin air with a Greek god, and here he was, boiling like a lobster!

Stuff and nonsense! He went down the Main Street again and looked down a shady little street, disappearing under an archway. It looked dark and cool in there. The shadows from the whitewashed walls were deep blue - but he thought he saw Merete's red scarf down there. Passing into the darkness, he went through the archway and looked down the labyrinth of even more archways. In one of them he saw a hump-backed shadow and heard a small sound, as from a mewling cat.

And then he saw them. And heard them. A couple. A man and a woman. A man, leaned against the wall carrying a woman on the palms of his hands - her splayed feet against the wall on either side of his body, her hands upon his shoulders, and making that mewling sound. Like pain sounds.

The alley was narrow enough for her to have her shoulders against the wall on the opposite side. She had - and leaned her head back, he couldn't tell whether from pleasure or pain. In the faint light Jacob saw something unimaginable. He wasn't sure of his own eyes. She didn't have two, but three bare breasts! He rubbed his eyes with his fists. There was no such thing - it wasn't possible - sunstroke - runaway imagination! He looked at the couple in the archway. She was working her entire body in synch with his grinding hips, making those three weighty breasts sway and bounce with the motion. Their muted noises floated through the alleyway, pulsating between the white walls and making his own organ throb. Three breasts. Three breasts. Not possible - just NOT POSSIBLE! But the more he looked, the clearer his view of the three orbs became, until they seemed to fill his entire field of vision. The middle one was a bit smaller and more low-slung than its sisters, which were full and heavy, sagging just right, and moving with the rhythm of her thrusts. But......but.......nobody would ever believe him if he came running with a story about a woman with three breasts???!!!???

Chapter 2

Almost without thought he aimed the camera at them. Through the viewfinder he watched the man slow down and stop. Probably getting too heavy. Jacob saw his aquiline profile outlined as the man carefully set the woman down on her own shaking legs. But......he looked like Costas! The woman grasped his enormous organ eagerly, but he stopped her with one hand and bowed his head to the magic of her chest.

Well, I wouldn't be able to ignore those mouthfuls either, Jacob thought. Three quivering orbs, chocolate-tipped, I'd let those brown eyes stare at me in the dark, I'd kiss them and squeeze them, pinch the nipples, and........The woman leant against the wall, making the little mewing noise that had attracted him in the first place. Her breathing came heavier and heavier. As her knees started buckling under her, she slid down the wall, leaving a dark, moist track, and he followed her down. He sucked the nipple of the middle breast into his mouth, and Jacob's eyes bulged. It looked as if he wanted to suck the entire tit in, and she moaned louder and louder as his lips worked over her. They were kneeling now. Then, he let go of her. They stared at each other, eyes locked in the dusky shade, and gasped for breath. Or so Jacob guessed they were. He certainly was, although he couldn't see their faces as they lay there. Only their silhouettes against the wall of the arch. And the little gleams of bright sunlight sparking off curves of sweaty skin. The profiles moved closer and closer to each other, meeting in a kiss that was like an explosion of lust. More like a wrestling match than a bout of lovemaking.

Jacob didn't think of the voyeuristic aspect of all this. He had never been this aroused, pure and simple. The man lifted her up again, ramming into her - then stood stock still, holding her tight, holding his breath, holding all of their breaths in his big brown hands, it seemed. Everything seemed frozen in place, until she started shaking. Faintly at first, but the little shaky movements seemed to transmit themselves through the walls of the archway, through the ground, through her no doubt sopping wet sex to his, until the entire narrow alley seemed caught in an earthquake of orgasmic release. She let out a barely suppressed scream and went limp in his arms.

He groaned and started thrusting into the barely conscious woman, groaning louder and louder until both voice and motion seemed to break. Jacob felt the release as if it were his own. He almost dropped the camera, but could not take his eyes off the woman. The fabulous woman whose fabulous breasts were completely bare to his viewfinder. Three brown-tipped orbs. Sensational! Before his mind knew what his hands were doing, he'd pressed the shutter release. The picture of a lifetime! The flash illuminated the entire scene and the woman turned a terrified face towards him.

Merete!!

Chapter 3

He heard his own plaintive voice repeat her name as he ran, the camera bouncing on his chest, down the main street and up the front steps of the hotel. It didn't stop till he was outside their door, out of breath, and fumbling for the key. I'm ill, he thought, I've caught something, or something has happened to this Godforsaken island where even the donkeys look as if they're thinking. Once inside, he ran into the shower, peeling off his clothes under the tepid water. A woman with three breasts. There was no such thing. Especially not his Merete who could barely nurse an orphaned rabbit. He knew that. He was dreaming. He was losing his grip. Exhausted, he rubbed his face and hair with the big towel and collapsed on the bed.

When he woke up night had fallen. He felt strange. Different. Something had happened. His hand lay on his stomach in something wet and sticky. He reached over the edge of the bed and watched two iridescent drops falling to the floor.

A dream. That was all it was. A wet dream. He sniffed his fingers absently before wiping them on the sheet. still struggling with the sensation of momentous happenings. What time was it, anyway? He looked around, but Merete wasn't there next to him. Where was she? Had he dreamed the whole thing or what?

He wiped his stomach, too, before realizing that the momentous happening had to do with himself. His body. He looked down. Switched the bed lamp on and looked again. Raised himself on his elbows and looked yet again. It looked different. Larger. Darker. Thicker. Even now, flaccid and sticky, it was considerably larger than it had ever been even when fully erect. The sight sent a fission of fear and anticipation through him. Its head lazily moved with the rest of him, rolled across his sack and flopped onto his thigh. Jacob stared. He dared not move, his knees felt full of champagne bubbles. Still dreaming? Or was it true - did he really see another dick underneath the first one? Had his mind suddenly snapped, all his inhibitions sending him over the edge? No. He had a feel as well as the look. Another dick had sprouted below the original but different one. A small, perky thing growing from the root of its big brother. Like a shriveled pinkie in the wrong place.

He had another tentative grope. They were there. They felt real. They responded to the touch, growing in his hand until it was full. He let go as if burned. Flopped back onto the bed, pinched his arm, then got up with a jerk and snapped on the overhead light. He had a good, long look in the full length mirror, still pinching his arm. It hurt. The thing looked real. It didn't waver. He didn't wake up. He was wide awake and blessed with two dicks!

His new equipment seemed to lose heart under this intense scrutiny. It drooped dejectedly......or rather, they both drooped dejectedly. He touched them again, tentatively, as if they were snakes to be charmed. Then he cupped everything in his hands in gratitude.

He walked across the room to open the shutters. Snapping the light off again, he looked out. Their bathing suits hung on the balcony rail, and the little table still held the ruins of breakfast. A depleted fruit basket and a pile of peach pits. The night was very still, silent, pinpricked with stars. He heard the door and turned, shielding his new-found splendor with both hands like an embarrassed child, and saw Merete outlined against the light in the passage.

Chapter 4

"Sorry to stay out so long, but Costas' grandmother gave us tea and a long talk. She's the local witch, Costas says, tells fortunes with cards and such" she said.

Her voice seemed to quiver strangely, Jacob noted. His mouth was drier than the sands of Sahara.

"No problem. I looked for you, but then I went back here and fell asleep" he heard himself say. She bellyflopped onto the bed and sighed."21 degrees ..... and it's 10 PM ..... whewwwww!"

He inched towards her, not taking his hands off his new secret. Merete's back was scratched and her hair disheveled, her blouse was full of little bits of whitewash. She started worming out of her clothes. "It's almost too hot to breathe!" He nodded dumbly in the dark and watched the soft white gleam of her buttocks. He wrapped the sheet around himself and reclined like a Roman emperor on the bed next to her. His fingertips started a slow dance across her sweaty back, tracing a path through the scents of sweat, whitewash, and something nameless. Something he wanted. "That grandmother" she mumbled into the pillow, "the one we went to see? She said she'd grant me a wish....."

"A wish?" His hand slid across her buttocks, exploring the dark cracks and crannies. Wet and warm. Sweat and juices. His fingers ran lightly across her anus and found her other opening, questing. Wetter. Hotter.

"Yes. I had to make a wish, a silent one. She gave me something she'd brewed, something herby and strange, it tasted awful, and then put my hand on the Tarot cards she'd spread for me, and make my wish. If it was a true wish, it would come true." She was looking at him now. "And?" Jacob's fingers slid in and out of her wet tunnel. She started gasping a little. "Something's happened, Jacob........"

"Yes? What?" Fingers questing further. "I don't really know how it happened......" Her voice died away. "No?" His was shaking, but whether from lust or something else he didn't know. His new friends were pointing skyward in unison. His index finger slid slowly into Merete's anus, while the two next fingers made their way inside her pussy. Gently. Slowly. And not shaking at all. How marvelous........digits spaced just so - to fit openings spaced just so........"So, something happened?" he asked, lightly rubbing her G-point with the index. "Mmmmmh"

He rolled out of the sheet and lay across her, taking his weight on the elbows. Buried his face in her still sweat-damp hair and kissed her neck. Took a mouthful of shoulder. "Owmmmm" "Hurts?" "Noehmmmmmm" His two organs pulsed against her soft buttocks. Her sharp, rasping breath and the dampness of her made him dizzy. He moved his fingers in her holes again, then eased both dicks into her hot, dripping hot love canal, helping with his fingers, lubricating everything with her flowing juices. There! All in, both of them......he thrust home. Merete squealed into the pillow, then raised her head. "Jacob!"

He thrust again, but carefully this time. Not to hurt. He was all shiny bright lust, his entire body sang, and he wanted the music to turn to double harmony. She opened to him, raised her backside towards him to ease this entry of lust, of tenderness, this new sensation. His thrusts grew harder, ever harder. He slid his hands under her to grasp a small, pert breast in each palm - and lay still. The moment froze for the second time that day. The only sound was their rasping breaths.

Chapter 5

His voice sounded strange. "Merete??"

"But I told you......something happened. My wish came true. I wanted to be able to satisfy you - it was the only wish I had, always has been. And when I came down into the street, these were there, all of a sudden. I'm so soooorrryyy......they feel so weird........" Tears dripped onto those lovely, heavy orbs.

Jacob let go of her and rolled onto the mattress. His magic equipment lost its fervor for a while, softening in confusion. Full of wonder he turned her over onto her back. She yelped, trying to cover her chest with her arms, but he forced them apart, pressing them into the mattress on either side of her head, not hearing her protests, not noticing the shake of her head, unable to take his eyes off the fabulous sight that greeted him, there in the faint light of the room. Merete's breasts had grown. Under him, quivering with her heavy breathing, lay the most gorgeous pair he had ever seen - firm, large, inviting his touch, his lips. And as if that wasn't enough, there was a third, smaller one between the larger sisters. A cute, saucy extra breast, like a cheeky child wedged in between two large women. Three nipples stared at him.

So it HAD been her! It HAD been them!

He groaned and turned his back on her for a moment, staring in mute panic at the darkness outside. The heat shimmered between them. Time and sound ceased to exist for him.
"Wasn't it what you wanted? Don't you like them?" Her voice was small. Scared and shaking.

"Do I like them? Do I ever?!" He turned and held her face in his hands. She stared into his wide eyes, looking scared. He kissed her eyes shut, moving his lips on to hers. They sucked each other in as if fighting for each other's breath. Her little noises coursed through him while his hands started exploring these fabulous new tits. He pinched one nipple and tickled the next, cupped the two big sisters in his palms and squeezed, buried his nose in all this richness. Garden of Eden, he thought. He caught himself wishing he had eight pairs of hands like those Indian statues. Hands enough to do justice to this surfeit of breast.

His tongue quested across the titty landscape, licking....tasting......he sampled all three nipples in turn, rendering Merete a mass of inarticulate moans. Her hands started moving over his physique, too, down his back to cup his buttocks and squeeze him closer. Then round the front for a good grope at his family jewels - and stopped as suddenly as he had done earlier.

Chapter 6

He held very still while her hands investigated - and her big eyes scrutinized him. "I did think something was different." she murmured. "Did it feel THAT different?" he grinned. "But.....is it true? There's two?" she asked, and he nodded. Not quite sure whether he should let the huge triumphant grin burst through. This must be how a millionaire felt when dropping the plastic card on the counter at Tiffany's. Or when he arrived at the castle with the new lover......

"Come on, sweetness - up on top, please?" With angelic grace his sweet Merete of the three lovely breasts squatted over his personal kingdom and claimed hitherto unclimbed summits for her own with a small gasp of delight. Leaning forward, she put a hand on either side of Jacob's face and let her nipples brush lightly across his face, making him catch them in his lips, suck them in, lick and slurp them with a hungry, hot mouth, while his hands kept discovering new ways of caressing this impossible dream. Big, firm breasts. Just what he had always dreamt of. He had never told her - yet here they were. A surfeit of them........

Merete was listening with all her body for the beat of his rhythm, the song of his body, aflame with lust like never before. Her lubrication flowed over his stomach, making his skin glisten even more than the sweat had earlier. It made the friction of his new forceful organs smooth as silk. Smooth and strong. Silk and sweetness. She paused suddenly. Pushed all her weight down over the twin dicks, making Jacob gasp. An explosion was brewing in two heads at once, held firmly by her tight grip. She sat still, holding her breath. Her head fell backwards, making the tips of her hair brush lightly across his balls, her white column of neck taut, her magnificent breasts quivering with the withheld tension. He grabbed the two big ones hard, pinching the nipples hard between thumbs and forefingers. She moaned loudly, then her whole body started shaking violently, spasming out of control. Like a movie getting stuck and moving on in small jerks, he thought - and then he thought nothing for a long, long time. A song was born between his thighs, multiple voices filling him, and he was too busy to do anything but follow the rhythm of that music, matching Merete's deep spasmodic squeezing around him. The click of a shutter, a flash, motion. Emotion.

They would have to extend their stay, he thought. They would have to stay here, in this weird place were donkeys resembled philosophers and lovers soared like eagles on salty breezes, where dreams came true, and where cameras captured more than the eye could see.