Jon dropped his phone again, returning his attention to the vanity mirror. He could already hear Biff coming up the stairs, and something about the big guy's arrival made him want to check to make sure he was looking good. The face that looked back at him was immaculate. Severe, feminine features highlighted by pale skin and dark makeup, all framed by a fringe of dark hair. The gray eyes--accentuated by thick lashes and heavily shadowed eyes--really sold the look. Sure, he didn't have the classic preppy beauty of say, Sarah McMillan or Tiffany Sanders, but he knew the others at school talked about his looks. And the football team wasn't waiting around in their living room, were they?
A knock came then, and a grin came to Jon's black lips as he walked to the door to open it. Because he knew, even with a few thing left in his morning routine, he looked good enough for Biff to get a preview.
When he opened the door, Biff's eyes went wide, as he took in Jon's outfit. "Damn," the jock muttered. "You're looking good."
Jon giggled at that. Biff was much sweeter than folks thought, or at least he was now that Jon had gotten him to break up with that bitch Sarah, but he could still be a bit of a musclehead sometimes. Though as Jon glanced over Biff's body, dressed in a tight t shirt and jeans, he decided it was more than a fair trade for the muscles elsewhere. "Thanks," he purred, his voice coming out high and husky in Biff's presence. "Just need to take care of a couple last things."
As he stepped into the room, Jon remembered how much taller the jock was than him. Sure, he was captain of the football team, but there was at least half a foot between them, standing side by side. That didn't necessarily bother Jon, but he did feel an urge to balance it out a little. To that end, he spotted a pair of high boots perfect, over by the corner near his closet.
"Take a seat," he offered, brushing his dark nails over Biff's chest and waving him to the bed. Biff obliged, and sat down just in time to see Jon leaning deep at the waist to pick up his shoes. Giving Biff a long, luxurious look at the cleavage shelved by Jon's corset. Biff always was more of a tit guy. And who was Jon to complain if he liked what he saw? With a grin, Jon straightened and turned as he slipped on one boot, than the other, to give Biff a similar show off his ass. Round out the spectacle.
The boots were platform heels, high enough to nearly reach Jon's knees and latched with a trio of buckles. Jon put each one one with practiced ease, and had not trouble crossing to the bed in the towering platform soles. "Tie me up?" he asked. He let Biff blush and begin to stammer before he turned, showing off the strings of his corset, to clarify. That was a little mean, but it was so fun to tease Biff like that.
"You're dressing up," Biff observed, as he cinched the threads tight, drawing the corset yet tighter so that Jon's abdomen became properly waspish.
"Sure," Jon replied, his voice coming even higher now that the corset was properly restricting his breath. "Got to look nice when I cheer you on for the big game today." Just moment before, he had entirely forgotten that the football team had a game tonight. Now he was perfectly cognizant of it, knew when it was, who they were up against, and which front row bleacher he would be sitting on. And then, because he was still feeling daring, he added, "and I like dressing up for you."
Now that got a reaction. Jon could feel Biff start at that, then after a moment his hands crept forward, finding Jon's back, then sliding around the tits resting heavy in the corset.Jon's tits. Jon felt a wave of satisfaction at the attention, as well as a spike of arousal as he teased at the soft flesh through the cups of the corset. And why wouldn't he? Jon had such wonderful tits after all. Jon's eyes flitted to the t shirt resting on the nightstand. Biff's t-shirt, he now knew. So nice of Biff to let him borrow it, he knew. And such an amusing little assertion. His eyes drifted back to the mirror, where the hulking form of Biff stood behind him, teasing his chest. The big guy looking for a big titty goth girlfriend, according to his shirt. And here was Jon, with what was, he was not shy to admit, a phenomenal rack.
Big Tiddy
His style was immaculate. Dark colors, predominated by black but with pale and purple highlights. That mix of fancy, antiquated garb and punkish, provocative sensibilities. He wasn't like those cheerleader bitches. His was a dark, macabre sort of beauty. His style was so distinct that it'd even rubbed off on his sister. Doubtlessly she was such a goth herself to imitate Jon, though she certainly wasn't so comfortable dressing quite as boldly as Jon was, wasn't interested in putting on a show like Jon was.
Goth
The pleasurable heat was building in Jon as Biff's hands explored his body, teasing where they could find sensitive skin but always coming back to massage his knockers. Oh, how he loved when Biff did this. He was big and strong and easy on the eyes here, sure, but Jon was still surprised how good he was at pleasing another. Seems his ex must have been good for something. Soon Jon was moaning softly in that feminine, husky voice, curvy body jiggling as he bucked his hips at the sensations. It felt good when Biff did this! Jon wanted the big guy to touch him more, further, take him all the--
Girlfriend
"Jo?"
Joan "Jo" Gibson breathed hard, enjoying her boyfriend's firm touches so much he had to repeat the question for her to hear. "Jo, we really shouldn't keep the other guys waiting much longer," Biff said, letting up with his hands.
Jo hummed in lingering pleasure, running her hands down the curve of her body a moment. God, he was making her so wet down there! And now he wanted to stop? The great big idiot! "Sure, we shouldn't," Jo agreed, turning to face him, flipping her cascade of deep black, mid back hair as she did. Then she leaned forward, pressing her famous assets into his chest, the ample flesh squishing delightfully against his firm body. "But I think I can convince us to be bad just for a bit, don't you?"
