Nipple Conquest

It was a like a massive, dark hill rising out of a smooth pale plane. The surface was creased, puckered and pitted, hard as rock but warm. And the thump of her heart, and the warmth of her body were all around. The nipple was not quite large enough to count as a mountain on its own, but of course, they were already on the high plateau of the mountain of her breast, and looking across to the east, its sister rose to an equal height, far above the surface of the earth.

There were few places on the body that could form a landing point, a foothold where they were not completely exposed and where a sudden movement, such as a cough, would not send hundreds of men and machines hurtling off into the atmosphere. Her right nipple was where this battalion were landing, others to her navel, her pubic mons, and her left nipple, with a further battalion headed for her hairline and ears. Mandarin translators were over the comms with powerful speakers to try and communicate when they arrived in her aural canal. They needed to avoid the destruction of the day before.

She had been sleeping, but with the inevitability of the sun rising, she was waking up. The ground shifted beneath the men, the choppers rose slightly into the air to avoid both the boob shifting under them, and the swirl of storm force winds that battered them as her movements and her breath displaced the air.

Her titanic face rose, an impossible size, an impossible distance away. Her eyes were like lakes, and they blinked, her gaze shifting this way than that, before she fixed upon them. Her lips funnelled, and a look of amusement, contentment, and curiosity crossed her face. A sound came from her mouth that may have been a gentle “coo”, sounded like a million ships’ foghorns blasting at the same time. The nipple’s surface began to constrict, and its summit to rise. It was puckering and becoming erect. They could tell that she could feel them, if only in her mind.