Miracle on Slutty 4th Street Ch. 07

"What was that?" Morgan said, as stunned as the married man by this new development.

"That, Morgan..." Patrice began, grinning wickedly. "That is our emergency plan. Our last-minute, all-else-fails escape plan." Frank was still coughing from the powder.

"Will he be okay?" Morgan asked, concerned, rubbing his back, her still exposed tits swaying as she did so.

"He'll be okay," Patrice said. "It takes a bit for it to grab hold. But he'll be fine. Better than fine, actually."

"What is it?" Morgan asked.

"That..." Patrice began, rubbing the remainder of the powder on the outside of the gift bag. "That is our patented memory powder. They don't tell you about it at first, as it's not something that we should have to use if we do our job right. And it's... not something that should be used lightly." Patrice stated, before glancing at Morgan. "In case we ever get caught, a little puff of this and those memories go... away. Just like that," she snapped her fingers at this statement. "Our own special design."

"It..." Morgan began, smelling the air. "It smells like gingerbread."

"Indeed it does," Patrice said. "You know how everything we do has to be Christmassy..." she said with a smile. "But, besides smelling nice, the powder prevents the afflicted from making new memories. Just turns off that part of his mind, at least temporarily. Long enough for us to get our work done. Plus, he won't remember any of this. Catching us. All of this..." she said, gesturing towards her exposed breasts. "All the proximity memories will be forgotten."

"Well, then... we're all good then, right?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, dear. We're good," Patrice said as she watched the married man slowly recover. "But..." she began. "There is a secondary affect that very few know about. An affect they would never tell you about..." Morgan seemed a bit confused by this. "With the part of their mind that records memories turned off, that exposes the part of their mind that's... raw. That's pure. Raw, un-distilled mind, free of any filters of society and propriety. It's a mind at it's most vulnerable. At it's most honest. At its most... changeable. Now, normally, we are supposed to just get them back up into their bedrooms and finish the job, cause even though he can't make memories, his pure, animal brain is at the forefront, completely exposed. That makes a man very vulnerable. So, instead of just taking him back upstairs... why not have a little fun first? Now we're not gonna make him do anything he doesn't already want to do, it's just a matter of making him admit his true feelings. Not only does the powder render him completely unable to say anything but the truth, anything that happens to him now, while forgotten, can manifest in the future in so many wonderful ways."

This was a lot for Morgan to take in, so she didn't fully understand what her friend meant. But as Patrice turned to face the married man, she was about to.

"Are you okay, Frank?" the black woman asked, not actually that concerned. Frank was no longer coughing, but he remained bent over, one hand on the back of the couch, breathing deep, regathering his breath. At this question, he looked up and glanced around, looking slightly panicked.

"What's happening to me?" he said, looking around, feeling a sensation he could barely describe. He could feel the memories of this whole encounter slowly slipping away, like water between his fingers. He had never felt anything like this before.

"Don't worry, baby," Patrice said, evil in her voice as she reached forward and grabbed his arms, rubbing them, trying to calm him down. "Just getting your mind in the right place so we can have a true and honest conversation."

Frank could still remember some parts of this crazy encounter, but the harder he tried to recall specific details, the more they would just disappear from his mind. It was such a strange sensation, and it was freaking him out, for good reason.

"I... I... I... can you undo it?" he stammered, still a bit shook as he felt memories literally disappearing from his mind.

"I'm afraid not, dear," Patrice said, still rubbing his arms in an effort to calm him down. "But don't worry, you'll be just fine. You won't remember a lick of this come morning. But first... I got a few questions..." she said, grinning wickedly.

Frank kept trying to hold on to what he knew. These two were... Christmas Elves! Yeah! Or at least they claimed to be. Santa wasn't real... right? No. No. None of this was right. They... they shouldn't be here. No. Something was wrong with this. They shouldn't... they shouldn't... or should... wait, what? Were they supposed to be here? Did he invite them? He... he couldn't remember? What was happening to him? The confusion was completely disorienting. His eyes drifted across everything in front of him, before asking the most pressing question.

"Why... why are you topless?" he asked, staring at her bare black breasts.

"Oh, that?" Patrice asked, turning on a friendly, girly, smiley tone, a far cry from her normal, taskmaster-like tone. "Well, you came down here and caught us, but you couldn't stop looking at our big breasts, you naughty boy!" she said, laughing. "You kept talking about our outfits, admiring our tits. And, well... we figured you wanted a little peek of the goods. So, tell me Frank... do you like my breasts?"

Before, despite his heated gaze at her exposed chest, he never once could admit to enjoying the sight. But now, after the powder, there was nothing preventing him from sharing his true feelings. His pure, unfiltered animal brain was at the forefront. And as Patrice boasted, the powder put him into a state where he physically could not lie. His animal brain was in control, unbound by any logic, feelings, or societal pressure, so there was nothing stopping him from speaking his true feelings.

And his true feelings on Patrice's rack?

"Yes!" he said, staring them down, the heat in his eyes evident. "They're amazing!" He was still gripping onto those few remaining strands of reason before it disappeared, so he knew this admission was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself from saying this.

"Do you LOVE my big tits?" Patrice asked again, cupping her big boobs again, pointing them at him, really wanting to drive the point home.

"Yes. I love your big tits!" he admitted.

"I knew it!" Patrice said, grinning wickedly. "That's why you came in here, wasn't it? You didn't know us... you didn't know why we were here... you thought we were robbing you... but we had really big boobs, so you gave us a chance. Right?" she asked. Even though his memories of entering this room were hazy, her logic seemed sound.

"Yes..." he admitted, nodding, never looking away from her big black boobs.

"Do you like them more than your wife's breasts?" Patrice asked, jiggling them in her palms in a hypnotic fashion. The normal Frank could never answer this question truthfully, but this exposed, addled and honest Frank?

"Yes," he stated, truthfully. There was really no doubt about it. Patrice had these massive, round, perfect tits! And his wife had those small, half-formed little boobies.

"Denise's boobs seem pretty pathetic in comparison, don't they?" Patrice asked, still palming her huge globes.

"Yes..." he replied honestly. "Pretty... pathetic..." he panted, watching rapt as Patrice pinched her own nipples, her questions coaxing him into establishing this truth in his mind.

"Do you like Morgan's tits?" Patrice asked, guiding his gaze over to her blonde friend's big breasts. Morgan was a bit caught off guard by being inserted into this conversation but was quickly able to pose for the married man, pushing her large tanned breasts outwards. Frank looked at them with the same lust he did with Patrice's.

"Yes," Frank said again.

"Do you like them more than your wife's itty-bitty set?" Patrice asked as his eyes remained arrested by Morgan's pink nipples.

"Yes."

"You'd be hot for just about any girl with monster jugs, wouldn't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he panted.

"Look back at me, babe," Patrice urged him. He complied, eyes falling right back to her bare chest again. "Have you ever seen a pair of tits as big as mine?" she asked, using her arms to balloon her massive black breasts outwards.

"No."

"They're the best you've ever seen, aren't they?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You've wanted to get your hands on them from the second you saw me, didn't you?" she asked, sliding one arm underneath her rack to hold them up for him.

He could still recall the second he first looked into the room and saw these two women in a place they didn't belong. He still felt how wrong that was, but despite that, the truth won out.

"Yes..." he stated, admitting to wanting to get his hands on Patrice's massive tits from that very moment. Because, the truth was, he did.

"Do you want to squeeze my big, perfect tits, Frank?" she purred, looking down at her exposed chest.

"Yes," he said truthfully. Staring at her tits, it was honestly the only thing his animal brain could think of doing.

"Do you want to suck on my tits, Frank?" She asked, sliding her nimble fingers to her hard nipples and pinching them. "Do you want to wrap your lips around these perfect nipples and suck to your heart's content?"

"Yes..." he panted, his mouth watering at the prospect. All those moments of confusions and anger at these two women was practically gone. All that was on his mind now were her exposed breasts, and the lust they conjured in him.

"You want to have sex with my big tits, don't you?" Patrice spat out. "You want to slide your big dick between them and fuck my giant black breasts until you fire off hot, sticky cum all over them, don't you?"

"Yes!" he said, the heat in his voice clear. It was true. Despite all the bluster, and the façade he had put up from the very start, at his core, the animal inside him wanted nothing more than to tit-fuck this gorgeous black, big-titted bitch.

"Well, why stop there?" Patrice asked. "You want to have full-on sex with me, don't you? Even when you wanted to arrest me, you wanted nothing more to rip off my clothes and have hot, sloppy, nasty sex with me, didn't you?"

He knew it was wrong. He knew he was happily married. He knew something about this was wrong. Yet the words rose to his lips despite himself, speaking to a truth even he wasn't fully aware of.

"Yes... I want to have sex with you..." he admitted, shocking even himself. And this admission made her eyes flash with dark designs.

"Well, we'd better get started, then..." she began, tossing her Santa hat aside and putting her hands on her hips. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, daring him, staring him down as she shook her chest side-to-side lightly, making her huge boobs jiggle hypnotically. "If you want to touch my tits so bad, then... do it..." she urged him.

"I want to..." he said, still staring rapturously at her exposed jugs, leaning forward.

"But wait..." Patrice said, putting her hand up, suddenly slowing down proceedings. "If you put your hands on my perfect tits, then... then you won't be on the 'Nice' list anymore. If a married man starts squeezing another woman's big black tits... well, you'll probably end up on the naughty list!" She tried to act serious, but she was smiling inwardly, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Yes... naughty..." Frank said, distracted, eyes locked on the black woman's chest. Such concerns were beyond him at this point. For a moment, he just stared, and silence filled the room. He kept gazing at Patrice's tits, and she kept looking at him, waiting for him to act. And Morgan, off to the side, frozen, wanting to see how this whole thing was gonna shake out.

But the problem for Frank was that all those pesky memories of these two were all but gone at this point, leaving it as him being alone with these two gorgeous, topless large-breasted women. He didn't remember that these two didn't belong in this house. He didn't remember that they were claiming to be Christmas Elves, working for Santa Claus. And secondly, his animal brain was at the forefront, and that part of him was feasting on the sight in front of him without fear or regret. Any part of him that would have objected to this request had been silenced, comatose somewhere in the back of his mind.

He didn't really stand a chance.

Finally relenting, he took one heavy step forward, moving closer to Patrice, putting him within arm's reach. Her eyes lit up when she saw him lift his hands and reach forward, and tentatively, as if approaching a wild animal, he let his palms make contact against her big, jutting tits.

"Oh..." he moaned from deep in his throat as his hands slid against her smooth, black breast-flesh. His hands slid along the sides of her huge boobs till he was palming as much titty as he could. And once he did, he gave each of her tits a firm squeeze. "Oh my God!" he groaned. They were amazing! So soft... so warm... so smooth. They felt incredible between his fingers! He kept squeezing them, again and again.

"Mmm... you like those titties more than your wife's... right?" Patrice asked confidently.

"Yes!" he said truthfully. They were amazing! Even if he hadn't been addled by that powder, he might still say the same thing at this point. Her tits were out-of-this-world perfect. He let his hands run along the soft, smooth black flesh, feeling as much bare flesh as he could. He cupped her massive breasts from the front, nipples centered on his palms, before squeezing again. And again. And again. "Wow..."

"Mmmm... those hands feel great on my breasts..." Patrice sighed, head rolling slightly in pleasure. Frank couldn't get enough, squeezing her giant, firm breasts over and over again. Even the sight of his big white fingers digging into her luscious dark skin was arousing to him. He then slid his hands underneath her enormous tits, cupping them and squeezing them at the same time. The feeling of their massive weight in his palms was enough to send a shudder of pure lust through him. He kept groping her massive tits, the silky soft flesh oozing through his fingers as he did so. Each time he squeezed, her mammoth boobs would balloon outwards in just the right way. "I bet your wife's boobs have never seemed smaller."

It was true. He could never do anything like this with Denise. Something like this shouldn't actually matter. But... there was nothing he'd ever experienced that compared to getting two greedy handfuls of Patrice's massive black titties. They were so much better than his wife's breasts it wasn't even funny. He had never been this turned on, and he couldn't get enough.

"If you think that feels good, try this..." Patrice said. Catching the cop off guard, she slid her hands behind his head and pulled him down, pulling his handsome face down against her bare breasts. Before he knew it, his mouth was stuffed with hard nipple.

"Mmmphhh!" he called out in surprise as his lips formed a tight seal around the black elf's hard nipple. She was pressing her tits against his face, the soft flesh mashing against his handsome features, smothering him. God damn, this was incredible. Feeling these immaculately soft breasts against his face was amazing, the luscious, smooth, dark flesh molding to his face. She held him tightly against her rack, scrubbing her tits across his face as much as she could while mashing as much nipple into his mouth as possible. But this didn't bother him, and he let his mouth get to work, licking the hard nub as he began sucking on it.

"Mmmm, that's it. That's it..." she sighed, scratching at his scalp as she felt his mouth tugging at her huge breast. "Suck on my big tits! Fuck... suck on my big tits cause it's what you've wanted from the start! You were dying for it... probably for years, you've been dying to do this! Now you got it, babe! Suck that fucking nipple, baby! Yes!"

Patrice looked down at him as she held him in place, sucking on her huge breasts. She pivoted, making his mouth switch places, taking her other hard nipple into his mouth, leaving the first one swollen and soaked with his spit. Purring in pleasure, she looked to her left, where Morgan was frozen in place, watching the action. Feeling the eyes on her, the blonde looked up to her smirking black boss.

"So..." Patrice began. "Get back to work."

The intruder that had caught them had been taken care of. Bent over, face buried in Patrice's huge, bare breasts, sucking her hard nipples as his hands kept greedily squeezing her big jugs, he wasn't gonna be a problem anymore. So, with nothing stopping them, there was nothing keeping Morgan from finishing the distribution of the gifts.

So, still topless, the young blonde Elf got back to work, dispensing the gifts from the list while Patrice was busy subduing the married man by pressing her big tits into his face. Morgan had to consult the list herself, doing both parts of the job for the first time. Since she was new at this, she was a bit slow. Luckily, they had already gotten most of their stuff done before Frank interjected, so there wasn't that much left to do. But Morgan was nervous, so she double and triple checked everything she was doing. It also didn't help that she kept getting distracted by the sights and sounds of what was going on next to her. The light smacking of his mouth on her nipples filled the silence in the room and the sight of this illicit action happening right in front of her, her boss getting her tits sucked by a married man.

Morgan couldn't stop staring at them, and it seemed like each time she looked up, they had progressed in the action. She looked up once, Frank was sucking on one nipple. The next time she looked up, he was slurping on Patrice's other nipple while still eagerly palming both huge breasts. The next time she glanced up, Patrice had pulled him by a finger under his chin so they could make out, mouths sealed together, lips spread, tongues practically down each other's throat. Morgan could only watch them nervously.

Now, Morgan was no shy cookie. In fact, she was very much a wicked little tease herself who could more than hold her own during sexually charged scenarios. So, this action in front of her wasn't offending her delicate sensibilities or anything like that. In fact, it was turning her on, as she could feel the heat and lust in the room as much as those two. It was just... she was at work. She was starting a new job, and she was trying not to let her darker urges get the best of her. She didn't want to act like a total slut and embarrass herself in front of her boss. She wanted to be professional and put her best foot forward, despite her slutty impulses. But the funny thing was that she wasn't the one breaking the rules here. It was Patrice. On the biggest work day of the year, her hard-ass boss was breaking the rules and making out with a customer while her tits were out. If anyone was gonna break the rules, Morgan would have never believed it would be her. Maybe she was doing it because of the craziness of the scenario, sacrificing her dignity and acting like a total slut so she could bail Morgan out from her big mistake. Maybe she had done all this to subdue to the married man so they could get their job done, and once the job was finished, they would just leave.

That being said, Patrice certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Lips sliding against the married man's, tongues mashing against each other, bodies grinding up on each other, she was certainly showing no hesitance. As his hands kept groping her huge, squeezable black tits, one of her hands slid down, groping at his crotch, her fingers wrapping around his clothed bulge, stroking it through his thin pants.

Patrice knew she was getting carried away, but she couldn't stop herself. Being a dominant, type-A bitch, she naturally had an insane appetite for sex. With her being very job-focused, and this being the busy season, she hadn't had many opportunities to slake her needs recently, meaning she was doing all this work while being crazy horny. And in her position, supervising a trainee, she was supposed to be somewhat responsible, letting her trainee get the lay of the land before letting her learn about any rule-breaking.