I try to be an optimist, so I tried to have some fun with that day's curse. I mean, I had the means to have bigger tits! A lot of girls dream of that sort of thing! I took off my tank top and looked at myself in the mirror.
The first thing I wanted to do was just feel the expansion with my hands. I brought my right hand up to my left tit and started breathing deeply. My skin was warm and smooth. I felt the usual heft of my breast in my hand, but as I breathed in I could feel its weight increasing. It felt good. The weight and the warmth pooled in my hand. My breast could also feel my hand holding it up. It almost felt like my hand was getting smaller.
I chuckled at the thought. The laughter caused my boobs to jump around a bit. I could feel them quickly expanding and contracting on my chest and through my hand. In the mirror, it looked like the tissue was rippling through each tit. Each nipple looked like a dinghy riding a rough and choppy swell at sea.
I breathed out and my tits went down to a little less than their original size. I breathed in again, then out. Then I got an idea. How long can I keep these babies big. When I inhaled, they were easily a DD cup, who wouldn't want to strut around with some double D's?
I took a deep breath in and held it. My boobs were beautiful, I looked like a model. I may be only 17, but with these--with these I could pass for 21! I hefted my massive mammaries around in my hands. They looked so good when I juggled them around, the image of waves rippling though tissue comes to mind again.
It's a weird feeling, seeing yourself as an older version of yourself. Especially when you like what you see. I didn't know at that point if it was the curse, my genes, my state of mind, or whatever, but I felt almost maternal right then. It might've been instinct, you know? Seeing your boobs growing in front of you, maybe it reminds the ancient lizard brain at the back of your head of pregnancy.
My face was starting to turn red at this point, but I was trying to see how long I could hold these tits and mama didn't raise no quitter. I looked my reflection square in the eye and though, "You've got this, Em." My tomato red face seemed to agree, its puffed out cheeks looked like they were mirroring what was going on just a foot below them.
I felt the strain of holding my breath in my face, my lungs, and unsurprisingly, my breasts. I looked from my cheeks to my tits and saw they were sort of blushing too. They weren't the beet red of my face, but you could see a difference in hue. My freckles were swallowed by a light rouge toward the top of my tits. My boobs started to feel weird, like a pressure was building in them. I almost expected steam to come out of them, like in a cartoon.
The edges of my vision were starting to fade, so I thought now might be the best time to stop holding my breath. Just then the pressure was relieved. My nipples felt like they were on fire, I felt a small wetness just under my nips, and then... SQUIRT!
I gasped for breath, heaving and doubling over. All the while my tits were shrinking and growing (INNN, out, INNN, out) milk streaming from my nipples. "Holy... huh--fuh--fuh... fuck!" I gasped, supporting my weight on my dresser. The milk forming a pool at my feet. I caught my breath and managed a chuckle. My breasts flew around wildly, milk splattering on my desk.
The milk stream only lasted for about 30 seconds, then the tightness in my breasts subsided. It felt good. I felt like I had had to pee for ages and finally let it all out. "So," I said to myself, "that's an interesting development."
This piqued my curiosity. I felt like I could have a good time with this. After I cleaned up my mess, I decided to...