Chapter 8: Nature's Solution

I put down the fax message with the first glimmer of satisfaction I had felt all day. There had been a number of glimmers of satisfaction last night, but that was a different kettle of fish entirely, if Louise will forgive me the perhaps unfortunate metaphor.

My thoughts were interrupted by a hesitant knock on the back door. Who can that be? I wondered. Nobody ever came to Louise's back door. The women were out, still trying, apparently, to find a bra that fitted Jessica. I went to the door and opened it. There was nobody there. I was about to close it again, when a figure detached itself from the shadow of the laurel bushes and approached, looking furtively in all directions. I recognised Caz, Mrs Sargent's Caroline.

"Caz? There's a surprise, come in."

She came inside, with some difficulty squeezing through the doorway. The girl was draped in a large raincoat, probably a man's. She shrugged it off and stood there in the kitchen. Even wearing an enormous loose sweater, the poor girl's elongated pumpkin-sized breasts seemed to fill the room. She looked around her again, as if she thought she might have been followed here, and right into Louise's kitchen, by a breast-obsessed stalker.

"Did anyone see me arrive?" she asked urgently.

"No, I don't think so. Caz, what's the matter? Come on through into the other room and you can tell me," and leading the way I sat down on a floor cushion and indicated that she should sit on the settee. She flopped down heavily, holding various loose parts of herself as if she feared they might drop off.

"That woman! Is it Jessica? The one with the little baby? Is that her name? Is she here?"

"Jessica's my sister, that's right. No, she's gone into the city, shopping. She should be back soon. If you want to wait for..."

"Is the baby here?" Caz interrupted.

"No, they took Baby with them. She gets a feed at lunchtime."

"Oh!" Caz looked lost, and utterly dejected, as if all her plans had suddenly collapsed around her ears.

"What is it? Did you just want to see Baby again? She is lovely, isn't she?"

Caz looked at the floor, saying nothing. Finally, she looked up shyly. "I wanted to feed her!" Her voice was almost inaudible.

"Jessica feeds her herself, she's breast-feeding. She doesn't have a bottle..."

"I want to breast-feed her!" Caz was insistent, and louder.

"But, you..."

"I've got milk", she said. "After we saw the baby, we went up to bed, and I had milk. So did Daz and Maz. We've all got milk. That's why I wanted to feed the baby..." She made a choking noise and her eyes filled with tears. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. What is a bloke supposed to do? I thought. I got up and went across to her.

"Come here, my love," I said, and gently put an arm round her heaving shoulders. She stiffened, tensed for a moment, and I gave her a reassuring squeeze, perching myself on the edge of the seat in what I hoped would feel to the girl like a temporary, non-threatening position. Finally, she relaxed, and leaned against me, and buried her wet little face in my shoulder, not sobbing any more, but crying out loud now, like a hurt child. Which she was.

I just let her go right on and cry, patting her shoulders gently. I was conscious of the warmth and closeness of her gigantic breasts, which pressed themselves softly and heavily against me as I perched on the settee beside her. I was also afflicted by another sensation, entirely unwelcome and inappropriate. I adjusted the position of my leg to ease the situation, and hoped she wouldn't notice. I hated to think what might happen if she did notice even an average-sized erection. As it was, if she wanted to, she could have me locked up right now and the key thrown away.

Gradually, she stopped crying and began looking round for a handkerchief. I got up, stiffly, and found her a box of tissues. She wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. Why do people blow their noses when they've been crying? She looked up.

"You know our ... our..."

Women seemed to have difficulty saying the word. "Your breasts?" I offered.

"Our titties," she said finally, with some certainty.

Okay then, have it your way, your titties. "What about them?"

"Are they going to stay this big now? For always?"

"Caz. I spoke to a scientist today. They're on the case. A lot of people cleverer than you or me are working extremely hard to find a way of reversing what's happened to your titties, and your sisters', and your friends'. And for that matter, Jessica's, too, if she wants to. If all goes well, you could start getting back to normal in a few days."

"And what if it doesn't?"

That was worrying me, too. "I'm positive they will find the answer. Certain."

"Do you think it would work if we just fed some babies? Wouldn't we get smaller then?"

"If you like, we could ask Jessica when she comes in. You could let Baby suck and see if you produce any milk. That might make you feel more comfortable. Okay? We'll ask her."

Caz's face lit up as though a lamp had been turned on inside her head. "Could we! Ooooh, yes, please!" And she threw her arms and everything else around me and gave me a long, long kiss. After a few seconds, I began to wish it had been a more little-sisterly kiss, with not quite so much French influence, but after a minute or so, I decided to go with the flow. Caz had obviously had some practical kissing experience, all she needed was a grounding in the theory of who she should be doing it with. Hundred inch titties or not, she was going to be a very big hit with the boys before long.