Packing Clarissa's Genes
Copyright© 2009 by Lubrican
Chapter 5
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 5 - When Bob brought some prototype marketing samples of his company's new miracle menopause drug home, he had no idea his niece would find them and think they were just candy. He also had no idea how they would affect her. Oh ... and his nephew got into them too. That's when things just got crazy.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Incest First Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy
"What?" Bob looked up from the book he was reading. "Did you say bra?"
"Yes," she said. She was dressed for bed, in one of his old T shirts. "I need a bra and I don't know which one to get."
"You don't wear bras," said Bob.
She turned sideways and arched her back, pulling her shirt in at the waist. She was used to doing that to tease Matt and it was just an impulse to do it now.
"I need to start," she said, posturing.
Bob goggled.
"When did THAT happen?!" he gasped.
"I'm a girl," she said. "We grow breasts, Uncle Bob. If you dated you'd know that."
"Yes but..." He stared at her chest just like Robby had, initially. "I mean..." Clarissa almost laughed. Could it be that Uncle Bob was just as helpless around a good pair of breasts as other males? "The last time I looked at you, you were flat!" he blurted.
"Probably," she said. "I went through a growth spurt, I guess."
"Man!" sighed Bob. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed this already. She wasn't huge, compared to some other women Bob had seen, but if he had a before picture, nobody would believe this was the same girl. That sparked something in his mind. He jumped up. "Be right back."
He came back with a picture. It was of the three of them, taken at Six Flags, the previous summer. Bob was in the middle, with an arm around each youngster. Clarissa stood there looking somber in shorts and a tank top. Her legs were thin and there was VERY little pushing the tank top away from her ribs.
"I can't believe this!" he exclaimed. "You're all grown up!"
"Why thank you," she said, curtsying and holding imaginary skirts. "I looked at bras and there have to be a hundred and fifty different kinds. I don't know which one to get."
Bob snorted. "And you think I know about that kind of thing?"
"Well, asking you is better than asking a stranger," she said. "Don't you know somebody who could tell us what to do?"
"I know lots of women who wear bras," he said. "I don't think any of them would entertain questions about how they fit them. Not from me, anyway. You're an internet guru. Why not look it up online? I'm sure there have to be guides there."
"Of course!" she said, hitting her head with the heel of her hand. "I don't know why didn't think of that."
"Well, based on what I'm seeing, it's entirely possible that your brains have sunk down to your chest," he joked.
"That's the stupidest thing I think I ever heard," she said, shaking her head sadly. "And you're a scientist!"
"Good luck," said Bob. He forced himself to go back to his book, but he looked up as she walked away. Her hips were swaying. He stared at a luscious looking butt ... and HIPS!
She sure HAD gone through a growth spurt.
Half an hour later, Clarissa came back into the room with a sheet of paper in her hand.
"This is complicated," she said, looking at the page. "I collated all the stuff and printed it out. I'm going to have to have help, though."
"Help with what?" asked Bob.
"Measurements," she said. "I need dozens of measurements."
"Dozens?"
"It sure seems like it."
Bob got up. He went to the junk drawer in the kitchen and dug through it. He came up with a bedraggled yellow cloth measuring tape that had seen better days. Still, the numbers could be read.
"I have no idea where I got this, or why I got it," he said. "But it's a good thing I did. What's first?"
What was first was something Clarissa had thought about as she did her research. Uncle Bob had looked at her with the same look in his eyes that Matt had when he looked at her. She recognized that look and it made her horny. Guys at school did it too, however it didn't have the same effect when they did it. She liked the attention, but didn't get all that horny, usually. That she DID get horny when Matt or Uncle Bob looked at her, she chalked up to the fact that she loved them. They were her special men, always there for her, and she knew they'd ALWAYS be there for her, no matter what.
To be fair, she didn't actually think of Bob as a potential sexual partner at that point. But she loved teasing Matt, and she decided it might be fun to tease Uncle Bob too. If nothing else, she'd feel really good if he got excited.
So ... what was first was for Clarissa to yank her shirt off and stand in front of her uncle in only her panties. She was proud of herself for how steady her voice was when she spoke.
"It says here that the first measurement is for band size."
"What?" Bob just stared as his jaw dropped. He couldn't believe the soft, round orbs he was seeing. The pink tips were well defined and stiff.
"You have to measure just under my breasts, and I have to expel all the air I can. It needs to be as small a measurement as possible without being too tight." She held her arms out, waiting for him to take the measurement.
Bob realized he was holding the tape. With jerky movements he went to her. She blew out her breath while he wrapped the tape around her ribs. He stared at her breasts the whole time and his fingers brushed against the bottoms. Her skin felt hot to the touch. She took in a breath.
"Well?"
He jerked. He hadn't read the tape.
"Blow out again. I got distracted," he sighed. She exhaled again and he pulled the tape tight. "OK, it's pretty close to thirty-two exactly," he said.
She looked at the paper in her hand. "OK, we have to add four inches because it's an even number, so that's thirty-six for the band. Now you measure around the breasts themselves, at the fullest part."
Bob swallowed. "Um ... that would be ... um ... here," he said, pointing at one nipple.
"OK. Go ahead." She WAS having fun watching him flush and get all nervous.
He could have arranged to read the number on her side, but he wasn't thinking that way. He pulled the tape around and let it cross right on one nipple. His fingers brushed the bud, which almost appeared to be erect, to his mind. He tried to concentrate on the numbers on the tape.
"Mmmmm," she said.
"What?" He sounded anxious.
"Nothing. It just felt kind of nice when you touched me, that's all."
"It's not supposed to feel nice!" he moaned.
"Never mind. What's the measurement?"
"I got distracted again," he sighed. "Let me do it again."
"Make sure the tape is parallel to the floor," she advised.
"It's a little over thirty-five," he said, feeling his penis getting stiff. "Can I go now?"
"We're not done yet," she said. "There's math to do." She dropped her arms and wrote the numbers down on the page. "OK, I have to subtract the over measurement from the band measurement. That's thirty-five minus thirty-two. That comes out to three inches. According to this chart, that makes me a thirty-six C."
Bob nodded. "That looks about right." He licked his lips. "I guess."
"OH? Have you seen a lot of thirty-six C boobs?" she asked sweetly.
"I've seen my fair share," he said, wresting some control back over his emotions. "And I shouldn't be seeing yours at all, young lady!"
"Oh pooh," she said. "You're my Uncle Bob. It's not like you're some boy at school. I don't mind if you see me like this."
"Well I do," he sighed. "I don't know what happened to you, little lady, but you're turning into a beautiful young woman and that's hard on an old man like me."
"You're not that old," she laughed.
"I feel like it right now," he sighed. "Thirty-six C. How about that. Last summer you were flat as a board."
"Im glad I had my growth spurt," said Clarissa. "I feel much more grown up now."
"I can see why," muttered Bob. "OK, you're a thirty-six C. Are we done?" He was thinking about going to his room and beating off.
"I need measurements around my hips too," she said. She started to push her panties down. Bob stopped her, frantically.
"We can do that with those on!" he gasped.
"Oh, OK," she said, holding out her arms.
He leaned over and wrapped the tape around the thin cloth of her panties. He imagined he could smell a woman's arousal and he almost groaned. "Thirty-four," he croaked.
"Do you think we need to measure around the legs too?" she asked. She touched her inner thigh just below the panties. "Like right here?"
Bob imagined putting his hands so close to her pussy and had a vision of his hand taking on a life of it's own and diving between her legs. He stood up quickly and had to take a step as he got light headed. "I think the leg holes stretch to fit," he groaned. "We're done, right?"
"For now," she said. "There's lots more I need your help with. Now that we know what size to get me, I have to try them on and there are all kinds of things that have to be checked.
"Surely you can do that by yourself," he said.
"No," she said. "I'm supposed to just stand there while somebody else checks the fit. We can do that tomorrow."
"Check the fit," Bob said. His voice sounded hollow.
"Thank you!" yipped Clarissa. She hugged her uncle and kissed him on the cheek. His hands just naturally went to her naked back.
"Sure," he said, with a breathy voice.
Ten minutes later Bob was lying on his bed, jerking his prick savagely, thinking about those luscious thirty-six inch breasts he'd touched so recently. Relief came almost violently as he decided he needed to think about finding a girlfriend.
Thirty feet away Clarissa and Matt were seeking release too. Clarissa had ridden Matt through two very nice orgasms and he was beginning to buck under her.
"You gonna squirt in me now?" she panted.
"Uh huh!" he grunted.
"Good," she purred. "I love it when you squirt in me."
You'd have thought two teenagers on the genius scale would have thought about the consequences of what she loved so much.
When Bob woke, it was with the memory of a crazy dream he'd had in which everyone he met or interacted with was a huge breast. The nipples in his dream had been noses, and each breast had eyes and a mouth too. He rolled over and relaxed, deciding to stay in bed.
Most Saturdays, at least in the last couple of months, Bob had had to go in to work for a few hours. On this one, though, that wasn't required. He lay there, hearing the little sounds that happen on a Saturday morning in any domestic setting. There was the clink of a dish being put in the sink. He heard Saturday morning kids' programming come on the TV, and a door closing somewhere. It was a comfortable feeling to lie there just dozing.
It was ten when he got up. He wandered into the kitchen and, on the way, saw Clarissa sitting on the couch, watching TV. She was half reclining and, now that he was paying attention, it was even harder to believe he'd completely missed her recent physical maturation. She looked like some young lioness waiting for something to wander into sight so she could chase it and eat it.
"Morning, Pumpkin," he said. She looked up and smiled.
"Hi! I thought you were going to sleep forever."
"It was nice," he said.
"Hurry up and eat, so we can go shopping," she said.
An hour later Bob was standing in the middle of the women's section in WalMart, surrounded by women's underwear. Clarissa was almost vibrating with energy as she searched for bras that had a 36C tag on them. Bob was relieved to see that the first thing she looked for was a sports bra. There couldn't be anything to fitting a sports bra. It either covered the breasts and kept them from moving, or it didn't. His relief was short-lived as she handed him the sports bra and then selected a sexy looking white bra that looked very lacy and insubstantial to Bob. He nervously looked away and took in some of the marketing photographs of women wearing underthings. That didn't help control his unruly manhood, so he switched to watching other women who were shopping in the area. Then he began worrying that they'd notice him ... noticing them. He didn't know where to look.
"OK, I have some stuff," said Clarissa. "Let's go to the fitting room."
"I don't think they approve of men going into the fitting rooms with ladies," he said.
"Well that's too bad," she said. "I need help and I don't want anybody else to help me except you."
He kept expecting sirens to go off, or people to yell as he followed her to what seemed like an impossibly small room that had no ceiling in it. She closed the door and locked it. He had to press into a corner so she had room to move. She held an armful of variously colored items out to him and, as soon as they were in his arms, she took off her shirt, baring her teen breasts to him once again.
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