Chapter 20

I always prided myself on being an attentive father. But I think my head was in the clouds lately because I was surprised to show up to an empty house.

I panicked a little bit. Usually, the girls had made their way home from school by now.

But then I remembered - today was the first day of spring sports, which meant it was the first day of practices.

And since I had confiscated their phones a few days prior - the confiscation that put this entire chain of events in motion - I had no way to get in touch with them.

Both of them played different sports: Lydia played tennis while Lizzie ran track. Their tits had grown considerably since they last participated in these sports last spring when they were in 7th grade, and it was something I had intended to talk to them about. But of course, we all got distracted when, well, things changed between all of us.

So instead of talking to them, I decided to surprise them by stopping by their practice.

The twins’ teams practiced in two areas side-by-side, with Lizzie on the track at the football field and Lydia at the tennis courts right next to the field.

I parked my car on the street and walked through the park toward the tennis courts area where I saw Lydia practicing serves with a group of teammates.

And quite obviously, Lydia stood out in a crowd. Even though she was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, nobody else on the team even had tits the size of oranges, let alone the size of soccer balls like she had.

As I walked closer to the court where she and her teammates were practicing, I saw a group of boys hanging around near the fence. All of them were staring at Lydia. And judging from the looks they were giving her, I suspected they were hoping for a private meet and greet after practice.

I thought about intervening, but I thought I’d have fun with them.

I got on the edge of the fence, just close enough to eavesdrop on the boys without necessarily being near them.

And I immediately didn’t like what I heard.

I heard one of them say, “I totally fucked Lydia like 3 months ago.”

“No you didn’t,” another boy protested. “You never did shit with her!”

“I totally titty fucked her too,” the boisterous boy added.

I shook my head angrily. Both girls had their hymens in place until I took their virginity a couple days ago. Neither girl had ever experienced penetrative sex before, and I was 100% sure I was their first. Nor had they ever seen any guy naked in person except me. Or at least that’s what they told me.

I felt a visceral rage beginning to build up inside of me.

“She sucks dick better than any chick I’ve met,” another boy chimed in. “She’s a total slut and she knows it. She fucks anyone who asks, trust me. Like, dude, she’s got 69,000 followers on TikTok.”

“She’s on TikTok?” Another boy asked. One of them answered his question by pulling out his phone while the rest of them gathered around.

After a few seconds of silence, they all yelled “whoa!” It was loud enough that everybody in the area heard, including the girls.

“Lydia’s tits are insane! Look at those fuckers!” one of the boys exclaimed.

That’s when I looked in Lydia’s direction. She had to have heard them by now and was close enough to hear her name. I studied the expression on my little girl’s face and noticed that she wasn’t happy. In fact, she seemed pissed off.

I looked over in the coach’s direction. She had to have heard these boys too, but didn’t do anything. I wondered if she’d reprimand them for such behavior or simply ignore them altogether. For now, she seemed like she wasn’t going to do anything.

Either way, I felt bad for my daughter. And angry for her, too.

One of the boys called out to Lydia, “Hey, Lydia. Want to go back to your place and give me a ride?!”

That truly did it. I wanted to strangle these little fuckers.

Lydia glared at them, clearly disgusted by the suggestion.

Seeing that the coach was doing nothing, these boys seemingly having free reign saying these things to Lydia, I approached the group.

“Excuse me,” I said. The boys stopped talking instantly and turned toward me. “Is there a problem here?” I asked.

They exchanged glances. A few of them looked at me suspiciously, wondering what I was doing. Others seemed confused as to why I cared so much about some dumbass comments they were making behind a fence.

A blond-haired kid stepped forward, “Yeah man. There is a problem, old man.” His voice sounded nervous. He was probably scared of me approaching him, but tried to act tough. His friends were in shock that this kid stepped up to me.

“Yeah? That’s my daughter over there.” I pointed at Lydia. “I heard you guys calling her names. Saying terrible this about her.”

The kids glanced nervously at each other again, unsure of how to react.

“Well...” the first boy started hesitantly, “ ... we weren’t exactly...”

I wanted to threaten them, but I obviously couldn’t do that without getting in trouble. But I could definitely intimidate them. So I put my hand on the fence post, leaned into it menacingly, and stared down at them.

“I think you should leave right now,” I warned. “Or maybe I’ll just call the coach over and tell them I saw you boys with your little dicks in your hands watching the girls practice. Do you want me to do that?”

Their mouths hung open. I knew they wouldn’t dare say anything further after hearing that threat from a grown adult man. Even the little tough guy. These boys were idiots, just like every middle school boy.

But I still wanted to say one more thing to scare the shit out of them.

“The funny thing is, if your mothers knew you were doing this, they’d want someone to teach you a lesson. And believe me, I am more than qualified to do so.”

That did it. The boys scattered quickly and ran off towards their bikes. “Sorry sir,” they sheepishly yelled out.

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that I managed to diffuse the situation peacefully. I looked in Lydia’s direction, and she gave me a weak smile of thanks, clearly embarrassed. I smiled back and returned to watch my daughter run through drills.

Then after a few minutes, I walked to edge of the facility so I could get a look at the football field and get a visual on Lizzie. The kids on the team were all spread out - sprinters and hurdlers on the track, jumpers at the jump pit, vaulters and high jumpers on the opposite side, and throwers on the circle next to the field.

Last year, Lizzie was a sprinter. With her lithe frame (not counting her breasts, of course), she fit in well. She was a D-cup then, which was already a problem with sprints, but she was still one of if not the best sprinter on her team.

Now that she’s bigger still with a DDD-cup, it makes it even worse. Lizzie’s legs are incredibly muscular and powerful. Even though she’s only 5’3”, she runs like a gazelle.

But let’s face facts: Lizzie isn’t going to win any races anymore because of her massive tits. They’re too heavy and cumbersome to carry while running full speed.

So Lizzie apparently switched to throws. Throws were usually where the big muscular girls were supposed to excel. They didn’t need to be fast, but they needed power and strength to hurl objects far distances.

But Lizzie had a sprinter’s body when you took her tits out of the equation. However, her tits were most certainly in the equation now, like it or not. I suppose her back had grown stronger lugging those tits around all day. Maybe that helped her with the throwing motion, although I doubt anyone really knows for sure. All I know is she was new to this. And it seemed obvious.

I didn’t see any other parents near the throwers but I wanted to get closer to the throws area. At least I didn’t notice any boys ogling Lizzie. Not yet anyway.

There wasn’t an accessible pathway to stand directly next to the discus area so instead I stood across the field just south of the track. This allowed me to easily watch the throwers green a close enough distance without being too obvious.

I noticed that Lizzie was struggling with her form. She kept letting the discus flop away to the side several times, and she threw wildly wide several times as well.

I knew she was disappointed. Even from that far away, I could read it on her face.

Once practice was over, I flagged down Lizzie to alert her of my presence and let her know I could drive her home.

“Dad!” she exclaimed excitedly when she saw me. She ran slowly towards me, her tits flopping everywhere. It served as a reminder why she evidently gave up sprints.

We hugged and I looked down at her almost apologetically. “Are you okay?” I asked. “You seem upset.”

She nodded sadly, “Yeah ... I mean yeah I’m fine Dad.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I offered. We sat down in the bleachers and talked quietly.

“It’s nothing bad,” Lizzie assured me. “Just ... I guess I wish I could’ve done better today.”

“I know,” I told her. “I didn’t know you were going to try throws. You’re trying hard, though. I could tell.”

“I know! But it’s frustrating. Like I said earlier, I’m used to winning. That’s how I am. And I don’t think I’ll ever win at discus.”

“I understand that, sweetheart. You’re a good athlete and a great competitor. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Just focus on getting better tomorrow.”

Lizzie sighed. “Thanks, Daddy. I appreciate that. I just ... I wish...”

“What do you wish?”

Lizzie shrugged. “I dunno. It’s stupid. Let’s go.”

“No, just tell me,” I implored. I reached over and put my hand on top of hers. “Please.”

Lizzie hesitated before continuing.

“Well, I just wish my breasts weren’t so huge,” she admitted softly. “I mean, they’re awesome and everything, but they cause problems sometimes.”

I stared into my daughter’s eyes for what felt like forever. I couldn’t speak. Instead, I simply leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead.

“I know sweetheart. I get it. They’re a double edged sword, aren’t they? Your boobs are fucking magnificent, but they can also be a pain in the ass at times. Trust me; I feel your frustration.”

“Really?” she responded incredulously.

“Yes, really. I know it’s not really the same thing, but having a big dick comes with its challenges. My dick hits the water sometimes when I’m sitting on the toilet. I’ve accidentally sat on my balls so many times over the years, and...”

“This isn’t about you, Daddy!” Lizzie protested. “It’s not the same thing at all!”

I froze regretfully. “Sorry, I...”

“You have no idea how much trouble these damn things are causing me right now,” Lizzie continued complaining. “And it’s only gonna get worse! These puppies are gonna grow more and more.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I relented.

I hated seeing her so distraught like this. I had to make a suggestion that went against everything a breast connoisseur stood for.

“Don’t worry honey. If you want, a breast reduction is something to consider.”

Her eyes widened. “Breast reduction?! Are you serious?!”

“Sure. Why not? It might solve some of your problems.”

“Daddy, that’s crazy! How can I possibly get rid of my biggest asset?”

“Biggest asset? You’ve got lots of assets besides your boobs, sweetheart. In fact, I think every single thing about you is an asset.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right. Still seems weird to me though. I mean, why bother fixing something that ain’t broken?”

“You were just complaining...” I began.

“I know, I know,” she breathed. “It does suck having to deal with them sometimes, but they’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

I laughed, “Despite all the issues, you definitely love them, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Daddy!” She looked down at her chest, shaking them a bit and smirking. “I really do love them.”

“I just don’t like seeing you sad. I mean, I know how much you loved sprinting and competing in general. I don’t want you to lose that part of your identity.”

“I won’t,” Lizzie assured me. “The truth is though, I’ll probably never be able to compete again due to my breasts anyway. It’s ok. I just have to accept that.”

I shook my head. “I have to ask. Did you decide to not run anymore? Or was it a coach?”

“It was my decision,” she explained. “I can’t imagine running at full speed with them. Plus, remember how I got injured twice last year from back spasms? It was clear that my breasts were the reason. But I didn’t wanna quit track altogether either. There wasn’t any other sport I liked enough to continue doing.”

“How did you come to terms with it then?” I inquired curiously.

“Honestly, it was tough at first. But after thinking about it, I realized that even if I stopped running completely, I shouldn’t regret a single decision I made. So instead of quitting, I decided to try out for a field event. The most important thing was I should be on a track team, y’know? It didn’t matter what I was doing, and field events is basically all jumping and throwing stuff. Obviously jumping is out of the equation though,” she added with a giggle, glancing at her chest. “So I figured I’d give shot put and discus a try. Unfortunately, I am awful at both of them.”

I replied sympathetically, “I’m sorry sweetheart. You’ll get better. I’m sure of it!”

“But my coach did say technique is more important than strength in those events, which means I should improve quickly once I learn the proper form. My legs are already strong, and well, my back is getting quite strong from carrying my boobs around all day,” she joked. “Anyway, that’s kinda where I’m at now. Trying to figure out whether or not I’ll ever be competitive again and just be average at this new thing, or if I should just find another activity and quit altogether.”

“Are you absolutely sure you can’t run?” I asked. “You could use two sports bras and strap your boobs down tight somehow.”

“Oh my God, no way. No fucking chance! It’s one thing to wear two sports bras while playing volleyball. Or even tennis like Lydia does. Short spurts, you know? But running 100 meters as fast I can? Sports bras won’t keep these under control. That’s impossible. Not happening.”

“Well, maybe if it’s time to pick another hobby or sport you focus on, I can help you decide what’s the best fit,” I offered.

Lizzie started to tear up a bit. “I appreciate the offer, Dad, but I think I might stick with track for a bit longer until I’ve improved some.”

I looked at her, and her sadness broke my heart. I needed to do something.

“Would you do me a favor first?” I asked.

“What is it?”

“Go on the track and run a 100 for me.”

“No, I don’t...” she responded hesitantly. “Why?”

“Just try it. I want to see how well you hold up. If it hurts or anything, just tell me honestly,” I insisted.

“Ok,” Lizzie laughed. “I guess I have nothing to lose anyway. I only wore one bra today so...” she trailed off thoughtfully.

Lizzie left my side and walked over to the starting block and stood next to it. Then she stepped onto the rubber surface with her left foot. Being on the track was her comfortable place. But I could tell she was unsure. As soon as she felt comfortable, she crouched into position, put weight into her right leg, and pushed off explosively. With her arms extended forward and bent at 90 degrees to generate momentum, Lizzie ran full speed toward the finish line. The whole time, her huge tits jiggled and bounced wildly. She looked like a porn star running the 100 meter dash. That juxtaposition between her slim, waifish body and her huge tits was really evident.

I had my phone out to time her. After the first ten seconds, Lizzie crossed the halfway mark. She was building up speed though, and she ended up finishing the 100 in 15.4 seconds.

Lizzie was breathing heavily. She sat down on the grass and panted for a moment before standing up again. She took a drink of water from her bottle and wiped the sweat away with her arm.

“So what did you think?” I asked.

“It was hard to breathe and I was worried about tripping, but it wasn’t bad,” Lizzie answered.

“Good job, kiddo,” I complimented. “Remind me, what was your personal best again? Was it 14.3 seconds?”

“Yeah. Well, 14.1 actually,” Lydia confirmed.

“Well, considering you haven’t practiced, that’s pretty damn impressive,” I praised.

“Thanks,” Lydia smiled.

“Did they hurt or anything during it?” I inquired.