The Cola Course All racers' kart engines revved at the starting line. Their wheels lay slightly off-kilter at the uneven, bumpy flooring, the pink "road" crisscrossing on itself. 3. A breast-taking... Breath-taking orange forest stretching into dizzying distances, with atmospheric distortion giving each twitching stem an ethereal, warm glow. 2. To the right, it rose suddenly into a coral-pink landmark. A mountainous, steep ascent, stretching into the cloudy, mist-drenched sky. It pulsed, breathing - the teensy fleshy cells expanding and contracting with life, wet sloshing echoing within. 1. A thin trail of white trickled from the mass, spilling and pooling down at one of the racer's tires. It irrigated the rosy folds below, trickling in short bursts with each inhale of the salty, swampy air. GO! The racers set off. With pedals to the metal, they dashed out of the starting line: Player 1, 2, and 4 in order, Player 3 spinning out from the wet spill beneath him. Even more took off after, a fight for first place as they traversed the circular raceway. In their search of thrill, the ultimate feeling of speed, and test of their navigation skills, the daredevils had braved the wildest kart courses known to man, hog, or bandicoot. This course proved to be among their long careers' most hazardous, most invigorating, most exotic, and most heart-pounding. And yet, the race course herself was sleeping. Out like a light as the race light turned green. Her magnificent snores echoed across the air, dispersing the cloud formations as her maw hung open, just a little lake-full of drool dripping off one fang. The behemoth bandicoot gently itched her big black eyebrow in her sleep, before resting it back on her comfy mattress. It felt a little cool and refreshing against the heat of her naked fur. Cola slumbered, her blonde head caught deep in the hold of dreamland. But even if she were awake, there would not be a single space in there for the infinitesimally small kart race happening around her right nipple. A circuit that looped in a perfect circle around the imperfections of her areola. It began in the shadow of the massive tower of nipple, with the "underboob" in the racer's sights - arching over a blanket that the landscape of chest overtook and swallowed whole. They'd look around to a view of the orange planetoid's fearsome, slumbering visage in the distance. Then back to the start. Three laps of that. Three laps of overtaking, risk-taking, and surviving. Player 1 snaked and arched around the bright, wet skin; skidding around with each drift. Her wheels raised slightly from the ground on each of the sharp curves as she followed the pattern of flesh, hugging outer wall, then inner, memorizing the skin cells' natural curvature. Player 2 soared overhead, using one of the slight "bumps" on Cola's flesh as a ramp to launch himself ahead. In this manner, he was able to circumvent a good deal of the complex ridges the others spent precious time navigating. *SNORE* Until a stray inhale made his leap fly a little too high, the blustering gale force tipping his wheels over an edge. The kart landed on one raised portion of nipple; tipped to the side; careened out of control, spinning, slipping down the unfathomable slide of orange, only getting more moist and slippery as the slope lowered into a chasm of cleavage. He was never seen again, as he sunk into the darkness. Player 3 was able to catch up from his initial slip by tightly hugging the paths closest to the nipple. These were the most dangerous; the wrong inhale or bulge could make the road suddenly ramp up at 45 degrees, or have him squeezed between two shifting plateaus of Cola nipple flesh. But with precise maneuvering, keeping control of his weight, he managed to scoot into second. Player 4 had his engine sputter and choke in the overbearing humidity. Sweltering waves of heat from the living environment washed over all vehicles, making him sweat bullets. Even below, what were once minuscule beads of Cola's perspiration from her microcosmic pores began to grow into puddle hazards, and then pool together into droplets that loomed over every germ-like vehicle buzzing about. Player 3 cleared the first lap. A victory punctuated by a sonorous echo, a declaration from the realm of orange surrounding: "Mmmhhh... Whazzah?" Cola still lay, slumbering. The sun bounced off her snout, and gave a glow to her golden locks. Feeling the faintest of itches, she subconsciously reached a finger over to her nipple, rubbing it slightly - before bringing it back down. It was a UFO blotting out the sun in a horror movie, its ominous shadow overtaking the entire racecourse. An incoming meteorite. A moon crashing into the perfectly round planet it orbited - full of craters, in a complex maze of ridges. A dirty index digit bringing judgement from the skies, misty clouds reshaping from her touch, parting in fear of Cola's pointer. As the finger took its rest, the horror only started. Her lethargic rub unleashed a veritable rockslide of detritus that had been lodged amid the curving folds of the finger. As such, Lap 2 started with a rockslide. Bits of grime loosened from between the fingerprint crashed down the mountainous breast they circled. A massive chunk of the nebulous mixture landed directly in front of Player 3's vehicle. It stopped rolling one nanometer from his front wheels; forcing him to brake. He groaned, as he practically tasted the stale flavor; and went in reverse, trying to find another pathway amid the web of wrinkled Cola roads. Player 4 simply rammed right through chunk after chunk of the falling obstacles. Each one led to more sticky muck gluing itself to his wheels. It splattered as he sped ahead, coating him in a remainder of everything Cola had picked up or poked the last evening without washing her paws. A surface that had almost been barren before was now full of boulders of slightly-calloused skin cells; and he grazed them as he navigated between them, Player 1, far ahead, held her own hand out on the organic wall that she followed closely. She gathered a large portion of particularly wet detritus, cringing at the sensation as it oozed between her fingers. She launched a ball of it at Player 3's face - it landed with a splat, blocking his visibility. Thanks to that, he spun out, while she raced ahead, burning rubber on the mammary raceway. She finished Lap 2 with a massive lead... PLOP. And as such, was the only one caught by the last bit of dirt bouncing off the nipple. She was practically tattooed to the sweltering surface below, squeezed in tight - still breathing slow breaths, her vehicle inseparably buried in the hillock of dirt. The kart belonged to Cola's Boob now, it wasn't letting go. BBZZZT- "Ba-ba-ba, baaaa~" Cola's radio alarm went off next to her bed. The tune coming from its tiny, tinny speaker made her bop in place a little. "Heheh." A tiny groove, she bopped her shoulders and torso in place, up and down. A wet PLAP noise erupted from her chest. BOOM BOOM BOOOOMMM This impromptu little shimmy, of course, meant no good for the remaining racers. In fact, it meant tremors of such power that the Richter scale would be rendered obsolete by the sheer force of bounce in her boobs. Every iota of skin, fur, muscle, cell, all pounding at once in a cavalcade of earthquake after immeasurable earthquake. Up and down bounces merging together in gravity-defying assaults that made what was once a road into a trampoline. Racers were sent flying off into the abyss. They became multicoloured flecks lining the rest of the boob, soon buried in waves of shaking, wet orange. Player 4 was sent flying up - and directly swallowed by a single milky cavern of pore, plastered high above in the cliffside of insurmountable dimpled pink. One more BOING launched Player 3 into the air. As he clutched to his kart for dear life, he saw everything above. The sprinkles that were once racers, shrinking from view. The slightest glimmer of Cola's innocent green eyes opening, the lashes batting out hurricanes. The dizzying, paradigm-shifting horizons of bandicoot breast. And the way the nipple grew closer and closer... His wheels curved against to the nipple, the kart tilting at a perfect 90 degree angle for just a moment. He slammed on the gas, pushing forward. He could read the rhythm of the bounces, as he listened. And by applying the gas at the right time, he was able to keep moving ahead. Moving ahead, right towards the finish line... When Player 4 emerged from another milk duct. He'd taken a shortcut right through Cola's nipple cavern, and come out soaking, covered in white, and ahead. Victorious. The placements came in. The racers celebrated their full circuit around. Player 4 accepted the gold trophy for his win... As Cola rolled over on her chest to turn the alarm off. A single unearthly THWUMP. The sky falling upon them with a deafening noise that drowned out their calls for help, and suffocated their final breaths, drowning every mote of their mite-like senses in the essence of her tired, sweaty, heaving boobflesh. One extra roll was enough to spell an end to the grand prix that circled her nipple. "Five more minuuuutes, shouldn't hurt anyone." As she wiped sweat from between her cleavage, something felt oddly crunchy to the touch.