Chapter 3

Wednesday:

“No...” I said to myself in shock. “No, this ... this can’t be.”

Somehow, overnight, my breasts had grown another cup-size. I was no longer the B-cup that I’d been so happy with the previous morning (and extremely happy with the previous night) - I’d somehow grown two cup-sizes in two days. I’d gone from being the nice, sexual, respectable girl ... to being what Marty had called “Girl Plus”. Not a compliment, not when you knew what it meant.

C-cups ... were easy. Not nearly as bad as D-cups, of course, but certainly not prudes. As someone who had been as un-easy as possible just a few days ago, I was barely adjusting to having a normal, healthy sex-life ... now I was going to be easy.

I stood in front of the mirror in shock, until the knock on the door pulled me out of my stupor.

“Sis?” Marty’s voice said, and when I didn’t reply, the door began to open.

“Coming!” I said, quickly turning and putting a shirt on.

I’d gone to school yesterday without a bra - I hadn’t had a choice. Originally I’d been planning to go after school and get myself a nice, new B-cup ... but it looked like my sudden growth spurt wasn’t over yet. There’s only a certain tit-size that you can get away with going braless, and let me tell you - it certainly isn’t C.

I decided to wear three layers - surely, I thought, that would be enough to hide my nipples ... but as I slipped a singlet on, I shuddered with pleasure and realized that I had another problem.

The sensitivity of my nipples had apparently doubled along with my cup-size, and as the material came into contact with them, I discovered that they were quickly becoming my most erogenous zone. Every time I moved, the thin fabric brushed across them, and try as I might, I couldn’t help but pause and enjoy the feeling.

On top of the singlet I wore a tight T-shirt, and then a thick woollen jumper above that. It wasn’t my most flattering ensemble (although I had to admit, having C-cups made almost anything look good) but it hid the constant-hardness of my nipples, and as long as I was careful with how I moved, I only stimulated myself every two or three steps.

If that’s how good my new boobs feel, I thought to myself as I descended the stairs, pausing in pleasure sporadically, I can’t wait to see what masturbating as a C-cup is like... I tried to decline my brother’s offer of a milkshake - I wanted to leave as quickly as possible, and try to buy a new bra from the mall, anything that would help keep my nipples under control - but he was so excited about some new combination of flavors that I eventually gave in, and sat down to try it.

“Stella loved it,” he said, and I looked at him with confusion.

“Stella from my school?”

“Yeah,” he said casually, avoiding my eyes. “I went out with her last night. She’s really ... fun.”

I couldn’t stop a smile from passing over my lips.

“Fun, is she?”

Marty looked at me and just grinned in response.

After a few sips of Marty’s new milkshake (which somehow managed to be even more delicious than the one he’d made yesterday) I tried to casually bring up the Big Tits Theory.

“Hey yeah,” Marty said, glancing at my new boobs. “I was going to ask you about that...”

“Oh, it’s, uh ... I thought it might be a good idea to pretend to have larger boobs than I do. You know ... get the boys in. Advertising.”

“False advertising,” Marty said with a laugh, nodding. “Classic A-cup. What did you want to know?”

“C-cups,” I said firmly. There was always a chance that my boobs hadn’t finished growing yet, but I’d cross that bridge when I got to it. “What can you tell me about them?”

“Well,” he said slowly. “I mean, my speciality is D-cups, but I can tell you a bit. Think of them like ... like shy guys. Shy guys are always horny, and if they think someone likes them, they’ll make a move, and go pretty much as far as the other party wants. They won’t sleep with someone they’ve just met, but who’s going to turn down a b-job? They’re not freaks ... but they don’t really play hard-to-get, either.”

I nodded. Everything he’d said made total sense to me - the nipple stimulation had ensured that I was horny from the minute I put some clothes on, and yeah ... it definitely wouldn’t take much for me to take those clothes off again!

I thanked Marty for the milkshake, looked at the time, and cursed. I’d missed my chance to go to the mall ... in fact, I’d have to run if I was going to get to school on time at all.

And running with my new tits was definitely not something I was looking forward to.

I managed to get through the first half of the day without doing anything to embarrass myself. Although, honestly, I was finding it harder and harder to work out what would embarrass me.

Boys had noticed. Of course they’d noticed, they were boys ... and remembering what Marty said, I acted the part of the shy guy. I didn’t initiate anything, not even when some of the top contenders from yesterday’s list came to say hi.

But it was mid-June, and way too hot for three layers. I’d been at school for less than an hour when I caved, and took the woollen jumper off - I was drowning in sweat, and knew that I wouldn’t last the rest of the day buried under so many layers.

As I’d feared, without the jumper, my nipples were clearly visible. The T-shirt I’d bought back when my breasts were tiny was stretched obscenely by my new C-cups, bulging out and making it nearly impossible for any boy to keep his eyes on my face.

Worst of all, the stimulation hadn’t gone down, and drawing so much male attention did nothing but accentuate it. And so as soon as the bell rang for lunch, I got up out of my seat and ran (causing a bouncing that I’d seen on other girls but never expected to experience myself) straight for the bathroom to get myself off.

How odd, I thought, that something I’d never done before yesterday was suddenly so vital to getting through the rest of the day. And vital it was - as soon as I was in the stall, my shirt and singlet were up against my neck, and my pants were down.

Pinching and groping at my new tits, I moaned loudly. It felt so ... so good. Yesterday’s session was like a light drizzle - this was more akin to a heavy rain. I plunged one hand down into my panties, and went straight for the clit - no foreplay was necessary. As I pinched and tugged at my left nipple, two fingers entered my virgin hole, over and over, and my thumb ran over my clit, lubricated more than enough by my freely-flowing juices.

I imagined pleasing all the boys that had spent the day staring at me - I imagined them pulling me aside, taking me into an empty classroom, forcing me to my knees, and pulling their cocks out. I wanted to suck them off, all of them - I wanted to feel their cum splashing against the back of my throats, taste their sweat. I wanted them to use me.

It was that image which made me cum - just like I had the previous night, my hips bucked forward, wanting to press and push against an imaginary cock. Some part of me wanted to be fucked, I knew that ... but I was still a C-cup. Second, third base ... that would satiate me.