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Introduction:

Your first wish has got to be a million wishes, right? Then how many would you spend before you wished for a giant cock and any girl you wanted?
Are ancient gods really dumb, or am I really smart?

So that Babylonian artifact I found in my dad’s garage is now my keychain, and I just need to put a hand in my pocket to get anything I want. The little stone dude went from holding up three fingers, to two, to one, and now he’s permanently holding up all three again and forever because he fell for the oldest trick in the book.

There are rules to this thing, but you can experiment and find the loopholes all you want once you’ve wished for a million wishes. The first thing I found out is that you can’t force someone to do something they don’t want. Before I wished for unlimited wishes, my first wish was to get a titfuck blowjob from Ellie Ryan, the hottest girl in school and also the biggest nerd if you can believe it; that girl’s breast size and grades were on opposite ends of the alphabet. But it didn’t work. I saw her flinch like a nasty thought had popped into her head only to get shaken out. She walked away instead of dropping to her knees the way I hoped. Honestly, she should have taken my offer then; her pretty little mouth had a much bigger cock to deal with the day I figured it out.

So how did I get Ellie’s big tits and pink lips around my cock in the end? I told you: loopholes. I can’t make her want to blow me, but I can warp reality around her and make her think she wants to blow me. In Ellie’s case, I wished for oral sex to be on the school's official curriculum, then I wished I was her tutor. I knew she’d work her mouth off every evening for that perfect grade.

You seem confused. I’ll give you another example. I was at a restaurant the other day, and I wanted to see the waitress’ tits. She looked like she was packing some huge knockers under that buttoned-up shirt, but I couldn’t just wish for her to whip them out. Damn Babylonians keep trying to cock-block me with their free-will bullshit. So I had to do something like this: I wish this was a topless restaurant.

What happened next was hilarious: the waitresses, thankfully all young and pretty enough, were looking at each other embarrassed like, ‘oh no, I forgot to take my shirt and bra off to work at this topless restaurant that I willingly applied and interviewed for’. I wasn’t making them strip, but they were stripping because they thought they agreed to this and didn’t want to be fired. And my reward for this clever workaround were a truly magnificent pair of torpedo tips out in public, probably for the first time. My gift to the world! I didn’t wish for an eye that can spot great boobs under so many layers; that’s a natural talent.

Then obviously, after seeing how juicy my waitress’ boobs were, I wanted to wring them out like wet sponges, right? But I always have to keep in mind that a girl won’t magically let me do that just because she works at a topless restaurant. Thankfully: unlimited wishes. I wish that your meal at this topless restaurant is free if the waitress doesn't let you massage her breasts.

“Excuse me sir, did you enjoy your meal?” She said, essentially presenting her breasts for me to play with. She was smiling, but in her eyes, I saw she was carrying the weight of a million bad life choices, racking her brain to find out what kind of financial trouble had driven her to work minimum wage in such an awful place.

But, hey, it’s none of my business; I’m just a regular customer. I didn’t want to get her in trouble by not following this restaurant’s reasonable rules, so I got to work wrecking these titties, squeezing them as hard as I could, twisting them, and flicking them up to watch them bounce back down. You can get tired of sports cars and first-row season tickets, but you never get tired of making girls squirm by digging your fingers in their chest meat.

By then I was super horny, understandably, and I promised myself I wouldn’t leave without fucking the ass of the little blonde girl who took me to my table. That peach was out of this world and begging to get destroyed in those thin black leggings that allowed for some jiggle when she walked. The whole time I was following her, I pictured how tight and warm my cock would be ballsdeep in that tail. Damn. Took a lot of self-restraint not to grab a handful right then and there, but I’m not some sex maniac; I can wait for the right time.

I watched the girl with the butt dreams are made of greet new customers while on the verge of tears and with a menu covering her newly bared chest. You could read on her face that being a girl with no tits at a topless restaurant was extra humiliating. Like she was hired as a joke.

Well... Mira (that’s what her nametag said), don’t worry, I got your back (although your back won’t thank me): I wish Mira the hostess had tits the size of watermelons.

You should have seen her, trying to hold up her new puppies like she left the store with way too many groceries. Her skinny frame was not made for such massive tits; she has no idea what to do with them, but she must have thought that’s the way it always was. Working at a topless restaurant suddenly made a lot of sense.

I wish that at this topless restaurant, the only accepted currency is anal sex. Easy enough.

I whipped my cock out before it got fully hard; it can get stuck otherwise. Mira had a reaction I’m very familiar with. Her eyes grew wide, and she had to let one of her massive titties slip out of her arms to cover her mouth.

“Um... I think I need to speak to my manager,” she said, trying to weasel out of cashier duty. Tsk. Tsk.

“Oh, don’t worry, I get this a lot,” which was true so far. “I just spoke to your manager, and he said that my penis is legal tender, and you’re not allowed to turn it away because of its size.” That part was a lie. I don’t always need wishes to smooth things over with the ladies.

I had watched those round cheeks jiggle in those black leggings for half an hour, and they did not disappoint my fingers when I dug into Mira's pants for a deep squeeze. After much exploration, I confirmed she had an elegant solution to not showing panty lines. Dirty girl.

“Aren’t you going to bend over?” I told her once I was ready for some real action. I think she would have preferred to be groped all fucking day if it kept the biggest dick she could ever imagine out of her anus.

“Right, s-sorry.” She turned around and peeled the tight spandex over her mouth-watering bum. At least she had a table to place her heavy burden on. Those boobs swallowed the plate and cutlery like a landslide.

“Is this your first time taking a cock in your ass,” I asked her, rubbing my cock between her buttcheeks like I wanted to saw it in half. It also helped give her a sense of the size difference between my cock and her bubbly ass; I could feel her pounding heartbeat through my chest when I leaned against her back.

“Yes... we used to accept credit and debit... I think.”

“Ah, times change. Just try to relax otherwise this is going to be very painful,” I said. Again, very true. Her heart started beating even faster as the tip of my cock caught the anal opening on one of the sawing motions, and I could tell she was trying to loosen up. Still would be a tight fit, though, like a Pringles can through the finger hole of a bowling ball.

I snuck a hand in my pocket and muttered something under my breath: I wish my cock was an inch thicker and two inches longer. What? You think I was overdoing it? Look, it doesn’t matter if your meat is like three pornstar cocks taped together; when you get used to it, you always wish it could be a little bigger. The difference is that I can wish it bigger, and do... almost every week. I wasn’t trying to tear the poor girl apart, so I started real slow, smearing precum around the rim, even spat on my shaft a few times to give it a chance.

Mira’s face was buried in a cushion of her own tits, her moaning a magnet for glances from everyone at the restaurant. There was some confusion among the clientele as to how anal payments worked so I was showing them how it was done.

The blonde girl made a wet squeal when her anus finally swallowed the tip of my sizeable dong. It was fighting back with tightness, but nothing was going to get it out while I was fully hard. I took a good grip on her waist, adjusted my stance, and sunk my battering ram deeper. I don’t do things half-assed, and I don’t half-fuck asses. My goal, once I get them warmed up, is always to slam them balls deep as rough as I would in a pussy.

Mira was squirming, and her rectum was like tons of little hands squeezing the whole length of my shaft. She was drooling all over her own titties as I picked up the pace. I slammed my crotch on that soft flesh cushion like a kid jumping in a bouncy castle for an eternity before the transaction was approved in liquid white gold currency.

“There’s so much...” She wasn’t talking about my cock this time. I might have sorta wished to cum literal buckets at some point. I often forget that one until I realize I’ve been cumming for five minutes straight.

Before I pulled out, I wished that waitresses would consider any anal leakage as their tip. Next thing I know, mine is on her knees, waiting to put her lips on Mira’s broken asshole. Her tits looked small next to Mira’s monsters. I left her a sizeable tip. She had to slurp it fast because there was a line of people behind me with their cocks out, ready to pay.

No, I didn’t undo any of my wishes before leaving. Even with a million wishes, I hate to be wasteful. The restaurant will go out of business soon anyway since creampied asses are not a sustainable revenue model. No doubt Mira will find another job that takes advantage of her new assets. Maybe I’ll see her again one day working at a strip club. I shit on Babylonians a lot, but they know how to make a sweet pair of impossibly big tits.
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