I stood and stared down at my chest. My breasts rose high and curved out from my body a long way before they curved away. I could not see my nipples for the swell of flesh. There was a narrow open space between them at my sternum, but my cleavage closed as the flesh curved inward. My breasts hung together like two blimps in the same hanger. My two very full, very enormous breasts.
I put my hands on my stomach and moved them upward. I could not see them except directly down my chest and I had to cock my head to do that. I felt the curve of my belly and the bottom of my rib cage. I felt one rib and then the curve of flesh. There was no wrinkle and no sag below my breasts. I ran my hands under them both — out and out and out. My elbows were at my sides when I felt the upward curve. I followed it to my nipples, which had been stretched out over the ends. They still stuck out half an inch or so past my areolas, which felt like they were the size of coasters, only puffier.
34 HH.
The band size was the same, but the cup size was one I had never seen before. I didn't even know how many sizes I had grown.
There was a full-length mirror in the corner. I was speechless. My breasts were magnificent. I kept touching them. I could not take my hands off my body. I turned this way and that, admiring my new shape. I was horny.
But I was not like that before I met her. Mrs. Reynolds changed my life.