From the hazardous toss-up, you worry you would land at some odd angle and hurt yourself, but that worry proves unfounded as you land solidly and softly on your back. The line where her vest meets her undershirt gives slightly upon your impact, and your leg slips into it. As Isabelle's breasts bounce from the mild impact, the green fluffy layer tightens, trapping you against her breasts. You are barely able to turn around and look at your surroundings. Thankfully, it's all soft, but any sudden change could cause some disaster. You were right on top of Isabelle's breasts, your top half on her left, your bottom half on her right. You were lying just barely in the give, the valley of her cleavage, just barely present, despite all these clothes. Was she always this busty?
Situated atop the mild cliff-side of your secretary's breasts, you get to thinking about a more permanent solution to preventing yourself from falling.
The first thought you have is to slip yourself deeper between the vest and her undershirt, but you dismiss that idea. If you did that, not only would you be entirely visible in your compromised situation, both to Isabelle and anyone else, but if at any point Isabelle were to slip, you would fall between the vest and shirt entirely, at which point depending on how much time you had to fall, you would either slip all the way down to her lap, where you'd never get found, or worse, be pinned between the two layers of fabric, with the breast pushing and trapping you against a solid cage of green thread. You didn't want to think about whether you would even be able to breathe in that situation.
The other idea, while not much better, at least prevents these two problems. If you tried very hard, you could wrench your leg out from the green vest, and climb up to Isabelle's neck. Since you knew you wouldn't be able to climb up all the way to her face, you would slip down into her undershirt, and hopefully that would tickle enough to grab her attention. Even if it didn't, though, you would still slip down to her underwear. If you were right near her bra, you could easily prevent any further catastrophe and hang out in safety until Isabelle got home. When she finally took off all these clothes, her bra would be exposed, at which point you could get around her body much easier and get her attention. That was the plan.
When Isabelle let out a breath, you tugged yourself free of the massive vest, and began frantically climbing. Each hold was tenuous at best, since every time you pushed with any force onto or off of her breast, the flesh underneath would give slightly under your small amount of weight, and soon after the boob would ripple from the aftershock, making the climb quite difficult.
You eventually reached the neckline, however, climbing over her red ribbon and down her shirt.
The tumble was tough, as you bumped past a forest of fur on your way down. Each hair rushed past heavily, blinding you to your final destination. You fell headfirst into her cleavage, getting stuffed forcefully from the momentum until you were stuffed entirely down to your ankles. You tried to squirm, and felt the breasts squeeze against your sides. Luckily you could breathe, but you couldn't see a thing. The bra-covered breasts hugged your sides in a tight embrace.
The boobs shook and jiggled in response to your movements. It seems Isabelle noticed, or at least felt you.
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