Chapter 5: The Reply
Simone Biles gives them a meeting in a private hotel room.
She's alone, and states the conditions "they obey to what she says, and only titfuck is allowed, nothing else"
Before starting, she wants to get in the mood. She asked them to comment her new tits, and her previous ones. She asks Jake if he would have prefered to fuck them before the operation or now. She makes him goon to pictures of her old tits before titfucking him.
The hotel room smelled of fresh linen and something floral, something expensive. Jake stood in the doorway with Maya beside him, both of them frozen in the threshold like they expected a trap. In the center of the suite, Simone Biles sat cross-legged on the king-sized bed, wearing nothing but a white terrycloth robe loosely tied at her waist. Her hair was pulled into a high bun, and she looked at them with the calm, focused expression of someone who had already sized up the situation.
"Close the door," she said. Her voice was level and even, the kind of voice that had told coaches and reporters to go fuck themselves and meant it.
Jake closed the door. His fingers were shaking. He tucked them into his jeans pockets and tried to slow his pulse.
Simone gestured at two armchairs near the window, both turned to face the bed, like seats arranged for an audience. "Sit. Both of you."
Maya didn't hesitate. She dropped into the nearest chair and crossed her legs, her composure striking since she had just shared a long car ride with a man who had sweated through his shirt. Jake sat down a fraction slower, and everything in the room seemed to come into hard relief: the glow of the bedside lamp, the soft hum of the minibar refrigerator, the slight flush of amusement on Simone's lips.
"I want to make this very clear, so neither of you can claim confusion later," she said. "Number one: you obey what I say, when I say it. No negotiation. No suggestion box. No moving faster or slower unless I tell you to." She paused, direct and electrifying. "Number two: it's only titfuck. Nothing else. Not my pussy, not your cock inside me under any circumstances. My breasts are going to milk Jake until he comes all over them, and Maya gets to watch. That's the whole dispensation. Are we clear so far?"
Jake nodded. Then he spoke, just to make use of his voice. "Yes. Completely."
"Good." She uncrossed her legs and stretched, the robe gaping just enough to show the upper curve of her chest, breast implants pushing pale, full skin up over the seam of white cotton. For a while she was silent, one heel trained on the carpet, snakeskin boot stamping softly before she leaned back on her hands. "But you didn't fly all this way so we can jump straight into doing something like this. I need to get in the mood first. You two are going to help with that."
She pushed herself off the bed and stood in front of them, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. The robe hung loose on her compact frame, and she let it fall open just a little more, revealing the full shape of her breasts. They were new, obviously new, round and high with that telltale firmness that surgery gave, but they sat on her chest with a kind of natural confidence that made them look like they'd always belonged there.
"Comment on them," she said, turning slowly, giving them a full view from every angle. "Tell me what you see. What you think. Be honest, because I'll know if you're lying."
Maya leaned forward in her chair, her sharp eyes studying the exposed flesh with clinical interest. "They're beautiful," she said, her voice smooth. "Fuller than I expected. You went with a teardrop shape, right? Not too round. Natural-looking."
Simone nodded, a hint of approval in her expression. "Good eye. Dr. Patel in Dallas. He does most of the athletes."
"They look real," Maya continued. "Like they could be yours. The scarring's probably under the fold, almost invisible. You chose well."
Simone turned to Jake, one eyebrow raised. "And you? What do you think?"
Jake's mouth was dry. His eyes kept dropping to the smooth curve of her chest, the way the light caught the pale skin, the dark areolae just visible beneath the robe's edge. "They're perfect," he managed. "I mean, you're… you're incredible. And they fit you. They really fit you."
"Fit me how?"
He swallowed. "You're this small, powerful woman. You're pure muscle, pure force. And now you have these soft things, these… these feminine things. It's a contrast. It's hot. It's really hot."
Simone's lips curved into a slow smile. She reached up and untied the robe, letting it fall open completely. Her breasts were fully exposed now, pale and full, the nipples dusky pink and already hard from the cool air of the hotel room. She cupped them with both hands, lifting them slightly, showing them off like a prize.
"That's what I wanted to hear," she said. "Now tell me about the old ones. The ones I had before. You've seen pictures, I assume."
Jake nodded, his heart hammering. "You were flat. Completely flat. You could see your ribs through your leotard. You looked like a teenager, like a machine, all sharp angles and muscle."
"And did you like them?" Simone asked. "Did you look at those old tits and get hard?"
"Yes," Jake admitted, the word coming out rough. "Yes, I did. You were this warrior, this tiny destroyer. There was something about that flat chest that was… I don't know. Primal. Like you didn't need anything soft to be beautiful."
Simone let her hands fall to her sides. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a glint in her eye. "So which do you prefer?" she asked. "The old flat chest, or these new ones?"
The question hung in the air like a trap. Jake felt Maya's eyes on him, watching his reaction, and he knew whatever he said would be weighed and measured.
"The new ones," he said, and he meant it. "The old ones were beautiful in their own way, but these… these are what I want to touch. What I want to feel against my cock. These are the ones I've been thinking about since Ariana told us about you."
Simone's smile widened. She walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, spreading her knees slightly, giving them an even better view. "Then you're going to help me get in the mood. I have some pictures on my phone. Nudes, sexy stuff. Things you wouldn't normally see." She picked up her phone from the nightstand and unlocked it, tapping through a few menus. "I want you to look at them. Really look. And I want you to tell me what you see."
Jake's hands trembled as she held out the phone. He took it carefully, like it was made of glass, and looked down at the screen. The photo that filled it made his breath catch. Simone lay on a bed, similar to this one, her body bare from the waist up. Her chest was almost flat. Her nipples were small and pale, on top of a slight fat bump. She was smiling at the camera, a playful, confident expression that seemed to say she knew exactly what she was doing.
His thumb hovered over the screen, the image burning into his retinas. The flat chest, the pale nipples, the way her ribs showed just beneath the skin. He could feel his cock stirring in his jeans, a shameful, undeniable response.
"Scroll," Simone commanded. "There's more."
His thumb moved. The next photo was a mirror selfie, her phone held up to capture the plane of her chest, a finger hooking down the collar of a sports bra. Her face was scrunched in a grin, playful, almost shy. The chest was still flat, just a gentle swell of muscle, the nipples barely visible through the fabric.
"Look at them," Simone said, her voice soft and dreamy, like she was reminiscing. "Fifteen years of training did that to me. All those hours in the gym, all those routines. I could do a full split on my chest and still land a double backflip. My body was a machine, and machines don't need tits."
Jake scrolled again. This photo was older, grainier, from a competition years ago. She was mid-routine, caught in motion, her leotard stretched taut across that flat chest. The pose highlighted every muscle, every sinew, the body of an athlete at the peak of her power. He could see the outline of her pectoral muscles beneath the skin, the way her arms bunched with explosive strength.
"That's the vault," Maya said, leaning over to see the screen. "You can see the tension in her shoulders. Beautiful form."
"Thanks," Simone said, not looking at Maya. Her eyes were fixed on Jake. "You're getting hard, aren't you? Looking at that flat chest, that little boy's body?"
Jake's face flushed. He couldn't deny it. The heat in his jeans was undeniable, his cock pressing against the zipper, thickening with every image.
"Show me," Simone demanded. "Stand up."
He obeyed, rising from the chair on legs that felt unsteady. The phone dangled from his fingers, the screen still glowing with her old image. Simone's eyes traced down his body, lingering on the bulge in his jeans.
"Good boy," she purred. "Now take your pants off."
He glanced at Maya. She gave him a slight nod, her expression unreadable but not disapproving. He unbuckled his belt, let his jeans drop, then his boxers. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed, the tip already glistening.
Simone studied it with clinical interest. "Nice," she said. "Decent size. Not too big, not too small. Just right for what I need."
She stood, closing the distance between them. Her robe hung open, her new tits on display, the pale globes rising and falling with her breath. She reached out and took the phone from his hand, tapping a few times until a new image filled the screen.
"Look at this one," she said, holding it up. "This was right before the surgery. Two weeks before. I knew what I was going to do, and I wanted a record. I wanted to remember what I looked like."
The photo showed her standing in a hotel bathroom, similar to this one. She was completely naked, her body small and compact and utterly flat-chested. Her hands rested on her hips, her expression defiant like she was daring the camera to judge her. The flatness was stark, almost shocking, the naked flesh of her chest unbroken by any curve. The areolae were small and pale, barely darker than the surrounding skin.
Her eyes held his, waiting for his reaction. The photo was a confession, a secret she'd kept for months, and now she was offering it up like a hand of cards.
"Let me see," she said, taking the phone from his trembling fingers. She held it up so both of them could see. "This was me, three weeks before surgery. I was in a hotel room, alone, and I wanted to find out if my chest could do anything."
The image showed her naked from the waist up, lying on her back on a bed, a thick silicone dildo standing upright from between her thighs. She'd angled it up toward her chest, trying to press her flat pectoral muscles against the shaft, attempting to wrap the meager flesh of her chest around it. The pose was awkward, almost comical, the dildo standing tall and thick while her breasts offered nothing. Just a thin strip of skin, barely enough to cover a third of the circumference. Her hands were visible at the edges, trying to squeeze her chest together, but there was nothing to work with.
"I couldn't do it," Simone said, her voice matter-of-fact but with a hard edge of memory behind it. "I tried for an hour. Oil, lotion, everything. That thing just slipped through. There was no friction, no grip. My entire chest couldn't even cover half of it."
Jake stared at the image. His cock twitched violently, a bead of pre-come beading at the tip. The thought of her trying, desperate and frustrated, flat-chested and alone in a hotel room with a dildo she couldn't please, it lit him up like a wire.
"Fuck," he breathed.
"Yeah," Simone agreed softly. She swiped to another photo. This one showed her from behind, bent over at the waist, looking back at the camera over her shoulder. Her chest hung uselessly, two pale flat swells that barely moved. She had a hand between her legs, fingering herself, and her face was flushed. The caption, which she must have added later, read: "trying anyway."
"I took that one right after," she said. "I was so fucking frustrated. I came anyway, fingering myself and picturing what it would be like to have real tits. To actually be able to hold a cock in my chest. To feel it slide between padded flesh."
She let the phone drop onto the bed and stepped closer to Jake. Her robe was still open, her new breasts swaying gently with her movement. She reached out, tracing a finger down his chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you?" she asked, her voice low and intimate. "I didn't get these tits for attention. I didn't get them for the fucking red carpet. I got them so I could finally do this." She cupped both breasts, lifting them, showing off their full roundness. "So I could wrap my chest around a cock and make it come. So I could do what I've been picturing in my head for years."
Jake's throat was tight. "You've been thinking about this a long time."
"Longer than you've been thinking about Ariana," she said, a hint of that sly smile crossing her face. "But that's what makes this good. You came here for a titfuck from a celebrity. I came here to finally use my new tits on a cock that deserves them. We both get what we want."
She looked at Maya, who had remained silent, watching the show with a hand resting on her own thigh. "You okay with this? You're going to be watching from that chair. He's going to come all over my chest, and you're going to see it. Are you going to be jealous?"
Maya's smile was small and measured. "I'm going to watch it like I watch him come at home. Same man, different scenery. I know what I'm doing."
Simone nodded approvingly. "Good. Then let's make this happen."
She turned back to Jake and took his hand, pulling him toward the bed. He followed on legs that felt like water, his cock jutting in front of him like a compass needle. She pushed him down onto the bed, and he fell back against the soft duvet, propped up on his elbows, watching her.
She climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs. Her robe was completely open now, her small, muscular body on full display, her new breasts sitting high and firm, the nipples dark and tight. She reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand, uncapped it, and poured a generous amount into her palm.
"This is going to feel different," she said, rubbing the lube between her hands. "Ariana's were smaller. Mine are bigger, rounder, fuller. But I'm also built differently. I have more muscle, more strength. I can squeeze you tighter."
She wrapped her hands around her breasts, pressing them together, the lube making the skin slick. The valley between them deepened, a pale, glistening channel of soft flesh. She leaned forward, positioning his cock at the top of that cleft, and began to slide her chest over it.
The sensation was unlike anything he'd felt before, a full, enveloping heat that gripped him from base to tip. Her tits were firm and soft at once, the lube making them glide easily against his shaft. She moved in a slow rhythm, up and down, up and down, each pass pulling a moan from deep in his chest.
"Like that?" she asked, watching his face. "Feel how much better these are than my old flat ones?"
"God," he gasped. "God, yes."
She picked up the pace, her compact body working over him with powerful precision. Her abs engaged, her core tight, every muscle working in service of the task. Her breathing was controlled, measured, like she was pacing herself for a competition.
"Look at me," she commanded. His eyes found hers. "You're going to think about those old pictures while I do this. About me flat-chested, trying to fuck a dildo and failing. About how impossible this would have been three weeks ago. And you're going to come for me. You're going to come all over these new tits."
Maya leaned forward in her chair, her eyes fixed on the scene. Her lips were parted, her hand creeping toward her own lap. She was enjoying this, he could see it. The power dynamics, the explicit display, the fact that her boyfriend was at the mercy of the greatest gymnast in the world.
Simone's strokes grew faster, harder, the muscles of her chest working with athletic precision. She tilted her head down, watching his cock slide between the swell of her breasts, the lube making the whole scene impossibly slick and obscene. A strand of pre-come mixed with the lube, stringing between her chest and his shaft.
"Hold it," she said, her voice coming in short bursts between movements. "Don't come yet. I want to feel you build. I want to feel that pulse against my tits before you explode."
Jake's hands fisted in the sheets. The sensation was overwhelming, the pressure, the slickness, the sight of her powerful body working over him. He could feel the orgasm coiling in his balls, a unbearable knot of pressure that demanded release.
"I'm close," he gasped. "So close."
"I know," she said. She slowed down, dragging her tits over him in long, torturous strokes, each one lasting an eternity. Sweat glistened on her forehead, on her chest, in the hollow of her collarbone. "You're not coming until I say so. You hold that come for me. You wait for the go."
Her eyes flicked to Maya. "Tell me what you're doing over there. You touching yourself while you watch?"
Maya's hand was indeed inside her pants, moving in slow circles. She didn't stop, didn't look embarrassed. "Wouldn't you?"
Simone let out a breathy laugh. "Go ahead. I want to hear you come when he does. Feel him from the chair while I feel him from my tits."
Simone's hands stilled on her chest, the lube-slick skin cooling against Jake's shaft. She looked down at him, then over at Maya, something shifting behind her eyes.
"Actually," she said, her voice dropping to a register that felt almost conspiratorial, "before you come, I have a question for both of you."
Jake's chest heaved. He was balanced on that knife's edge, every muscle in his body locked in the effort of holding back. "What?"
Simone lifted herself off him, the sudden absence of her tits leaving his cock cold and lonely. She sat back on her heels, looking at them with an expression that was half curiosity, half challenge. Her hands rested on her thighs, her new breasts still slick with lube, glistening under the hotel's warm light.
"Have you ever seen come on black skin?" she asked.
The question hit the room like a drop of cold water. Maya's hand stopped moving inside her pants. Jake blinked, his brain struggling to process the question through the haze of near-orgasm.
"I mean it," Simone continued. She tilted her head, watching them with those sharp, assessing eyes. "Real come. Fresh. Someone you didn't just watch in porn, uploaded through a screen. Have you ever seen it in person? On actual black skin, in the moment, the way it catches the light?"
Jake's mouth opened, then closed. The answer was a failure, plain and simple. "No," he admitted. The word felt small and honest.
Simone's gaze swung to Maya. "You?"
Maya pulled her hand out of her pants, her fingers slick with her own wetness. She shook her head slowly. "No. I've never been with a black woman. Or a black man, for that matter. Our circles are..." she trailed off, searching for the word.
"White," Simone supplied. "Your circles are white."
Maya nodded, an interesting kind of flush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah. I guess they are."
Simone absorbed this with a slow nod. She looked down at her own chest, at the pale pink of her nipples against her brown skin, the way the lube made everything shine. She ran a palm over her sternum, spreading the slickness.
"This is what it looks like," she said. "This is what it's going to look like when you come on me. The contrast, right? Your white come, dripping down my brown skin. That's a picture you've never seen before."
Jake's cock twitched. His heartbeat pounded in his throat. She was right, and the realization felt like a door opening onto a room he'd never known existed.
"I want you to see it," Simone said. "I want you to watch it happen. I want you to remember it for the rest of your life, the way I remember learning to do a double backflip on the floor. The way things etch themselves into your brain when they're new and different and yours."
She picked up the lube bottle again, squeezing a fresh dollop into her palm. Her hands worked the slickness between her breasts, pressing them together with deliberate care, creating that deep, glistening valley.
"Come here," she said to Maya. "I want you closer. I want you to see exactly what happens."
Maya rose from her chair, her legs unsteady beneath her. She crossed to the bed on bare feet, standing beside Jake as Simone guided his cock back between her tits.
"Both of you watch," Simone said. Her voice was calm, almost clinical, but there was heat underneath it. "I'm going to make him come faster than he thinks is possible. And when he does, you're going to see it. You're going to see it land on my skin, and you're going to know that you've never seen anything like it before."
She began to move. Her tits slid over him in long, wet strokes, her chest muscles working with the same precision she brought to a vault routine. She angled her body so Maya could see clearly, see the way his cock disappeared between her breasts, the way the lube made everything shine.
"Look at me," Simone commanded Jake. "Don't look away. I want you to see your own come all over me."
Jake's hips bucked involuntarily. The pressure in his balls was a white-hot knot, demanding release. Every stroke dragged him closer, the sensation amplified by the visual of her brown skin moving over his white cock.
"Fuck," he gasped. "I'm going to come. I can't hold it anymore."
"Don't," Simone said. Her strokes quickened, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. "Come for me. Come all over my tits. Show your girlfriend what it looks like."
His orgasm hit him like a wall.
The come surged out of him in thick, hot ropes, splashing across Simone's chest. He watched it happen, transfixed, the white fluid streaking across her brown skin, dripping down the slope of her left breast, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. The second wave came painted across her right tit, running in rivulets toward the nipple, the contrast stark and obscene and beautiful.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Maya stared. Her hand had found its way back to her own crotch, but she wasn't moving it. She was just watching, drinking in the image of Jake's come glistening on Simone's skin like pearl on dark wood.
Simone looked down at herself, at the mess he'd made. She didn't wipe it off. She just sat there, letting the come and the lube mix and slide, the evidence of his pleasure spread across her chest.
"There," she said. "Now you've seen it."
She reached up and gathered some of the come on her finger, brought it to her mouth, and tasted it. Her expression was unreadable as she swallowed.
"Not bad," she said. "Not bad at all."
She looked at Maya. "Now your turn. I want to watch you get off to that picture. And I want you to think about what you just saw. Think about how different this is, how new. And I want you to come so hard you forget your own name."
Maya's hand started moving again, faster, more desperate. Her eyes were locked on Simone's come-stained chest, on the white streaks against the brown skin.
"Good girl," Simone murmured. "That's it. Come for me. Show me you can take this in."
Maya's orgasm tore through her a moment later. Her knees buckled, and she slumped against the foot of the bed, her body shaking with the force of it. A thin cry escaped her lips, swallowed by the expensive quiet of the hotel room.
Simone watched her come with a satisfied smile. She reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand, began wiping the come from her chest with unhurried, methodical strokes.
"See," she said softly. "It's not just about the tits. It's about the story you tell afterward. And you two have a story now that no one else has."