"Is it locked?" you ask quickly. How long did it take to wash a pair of hands? If she was going she would have to move quick.
"Key-less entry," Lydia said bouncing her way out of the booth. "I'll be right back. Keep them here. And see if you can get anymore on the lamp."
In a flash she was gone around a corner and out the door. Not a second later you can see her parents stopping at the bar counter to order some drinks. You breathe a sigh. Lydia's condition seemed manageable at first but now you were not so sure.
"Oh, and where have you stuck my daughter?" her father said loudly as he returned to the table.
"I'm sorry?" you stammer fearing that somehow he knew about your activities from yesterday. "I ... stuck ... whom? Sir?"
"Lydia. I'm only guessing that you've plugged up somewhere private. Thought we wouldn't notice. Huh?"
You feel your face burn red with embarrassment.
"Dear," her mother cooed, "you'll give him a coronary talking like that." They laugh together in a way that makes you want to hide under the table.
*************************
Lydia pushes out of the glass doors of the restaurant. The late afternoon sun warming her as she weaves through the parked cars. Her father's vehicle beckoned. In the back, in the bag, her sweater waited to hide her changing body. As she jogged she could feel her inflated, spandex breasts snugly rubbing against her tight top. The soft spandex-skin let them slide around a little under the bright cotton. It was distracting.
Lydia arrived at the car huffing. As she typed in the entry number her reflection in the window distracted her. She admired her curves. As she twisted and turned she was shocked to see how small it made her shoulders appear. Her normal swimmer's musculature seemed smoothed and girlish behind the two round masses. She could see the red and white of her skin had crept up her neck above the collar. She scratched at it idly while she opened the door.
It would be difficult to hide the large breasts and coloured skin with just a sweater but she would have to try. As she wiggled into the back seat she she could hear the seams of her t-shirt pulling. Her nipples pressed visibly into the top. She pulled it over her head to inspect the damage. It was stretched under the arm. The fabric pulled until it was partially transparent. She would have to wear just the over-shirt.
Topless now she inspected how the line between the red and white sections curved over her round breasts. Her nipples were just slightly inside the center white area. She used her fingers to trace the lines. Like the night before she found the line to be a tingle-filled erogenous zone. Lydia shivered with delight and a little foreboding. Lunch may be more difficult, yet.
She stuffed her top into her bag and hauled out the wrinkled hoodie. Slipping it on, she leaned forward to brush her mussed hair in the rear-view mirror. She was struck by how white her hair had become. It was striking and, she hoped, a little sexy. She pulled the hood up. If she slouched a little then she could hide most of the changes. She tried thrusting her breasts forward and delighted at how they filled the fluffy fleece. Slumping she could try to hide them a little.
It was not until she had locked the door and was retracing her mad dash that she realized something was wrong. Her sweater had gotten damp as it was nuzzled against her towel. The wet patch against the small of her back slapped her skin gently as she walked.
Lydia realized that she should have ran.