Lydia rushed to grab her stuff from the locker room as you stand in the lobby waiting nervously. Anything could happen while she was in the room, alone. The minutes ticked by and the crowd milled about not looking very interested in a young man standing quietly. You start to wonder what could be taking her so long to put on a simple pair of jeans.
Lydia popped out from between the bustling bodies and made her way over to you. She wore the jeans and t-shirt she had brought which did an adequate job of hiding her spandex body. There was just a hint of red and white around her neckline that flashed into view when she moved. But the rest of her seemed normal. Except her breasts which had once again seemed to have grown.
"You look good," you say as she steps up tossing her bag for you to carry.
"I think it covers my body just enough; don't you?" Lydia did a bit of a twirl. There was nothing remarkable about her clothing but you found the thought of her being totally trapped in a spandex suit under the guise of normality to be very hot.
"It seems to cover more of you than normal," you hint leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
"You noticed then? I thought that if people can think I'm clothed when I'm not then people can also think I am busty too. Did I dribble too much?" She pouted and clicked her heals together in a way that made her larger breasts bounce.
"Ahh, I don't mind. You look good but it might have been too sudden a change. Some of these people see you all the time in nothing but a tight suit. They might notice if you start stuffing your top."
The look of playful shock that formed on her face was hilarious and you had to laugh. She laughed along and soon you were leaving the pool building. Only to find Lydia's parents making their way into the same door.
"Mom? Dad?" Lydia gasped in surprise. "I told you guys that you did not have to come today. It was just a stupid year-end hub-bub."
"We know dear," her mother said. "And we were going to go to that swap meet down by the fair-grounds but it was disappointing. So we left."
"Right you can only see so many imitation antique lamps before they all start looking the same," her father groaned. "Besides we didn't want you thinking you are a neglected child."
"I never thought that before," Lydia protested.
"Well, you just missed her race, Sir," you jump in. "Lydia must have set a new school record and beat that bitch Monica."
"She needed to be cut down to size," her mother mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.
"A new record? That's great. If you are done here why don't we all go out for a celebratory dinner?" Lydia's dad said. He led the two to his car and pushed them all inside.
You and Lydia try to protest that you just want to spend some time alone together in the lovely almost summer weather. He does not listen.
"You too spend so much time together we never get to see you both. Let's try that new pub around on Morgan St.? I hear they have great fries and ten-dollar pitchers." The car lurched into traffic and down the street.
"Dear, are you still wearing your suit?" Mother said from the front seat. "You know that can't be good for your skin."
"It's fine Mother; it's dry." Lydia said biting her tongue. You have to suck on your lips to keep from laughing.
"Oh, and your hair seems lighter. Did you dye it again last night?"
You look at Lydia and see that her hair does seem lighter almost whiter. You mouth the words to her and her eyes grow wide. This would be an awkward lunch if Lydia's changes were the topic of conversation.