True love only grows I

• by ~I3reacl, Mar 23, 2013, 8:03:43 AM

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Again and again a foot was stepping on the ground. In a simple rhythm Britney tapped on the carpet of her husband’s office. From time to time a small click accompanied the tapping as Britney was biting on the nail of her thumb her teeth, chopping off small pieces in an irregular pattern. The bitter taste of the red nail lacquer rubbed off, on her tongue, only a very slight amount, but enough for her to take her thumb out of her mouth after a while and put it on her chin instead. Eventually she started tapping on her chin as well, offbeat to her feet. It wasn’t because she was impatient that she was tapping, and she didn’t repeat the beat of a melody going through her head. It was nervousness. Nervousness and insecurity.

Through the window the orange rays of the evening sun were shining into the room, leaving a light spot right in front of Britney. For a long time she had been looking down at that spot. When she had tilted the desk of her husband forward earlier to clean the space under it one of the drawers had suddenly fallen out of its ankles. As it crashed on the floor it had scattered it contents over the carpet. At first Britney had believed it to be documents, and quickly had walked around the desk to gather and put them back in the drawer. Instead she had been silently looking for several minutes at the pile of papers lying at her feet, the cramps in her stomach getting stronger the longer she stared at them. They weren’t work documents, or documents at all for that matter. They were pictures. All of them were pictures, drawings to be precisely. They were ranging from pencil-sketches to thoroughly coloured digital art, and everything in between. All of them were showing a similar motive, portraying at least one woman – women possessing a rocket-scoring rack far beyond believability. Hectically Britney’s eyes moved over the ground, checking all the images lying on it. Some were single pictures showing shots of buxom women, while others contained multiple images showing sequences of the same person with steadily bigger breasts. Britney gulped, looking all over the busty women at her feet. Considering the different drawing styles she guessed he had not drawn them himself, but printed out from the internet at work. It probably was the only way for him to look at them, for he seemed too afraid to look at them on their home computer PC in their bedroom.

In a way, Britney felt relieved. She had been suspecting her husband to have some kind of secret from her for a long time. He had always stayed for hours inside his office room, even after work or when he had the day off. And whenever she came close to the door while he was inside she could hear some rustling as if he was quickly stuffing away papers, and when she came inside she often found him just sitting at the desk without doing anything – he said he was making an “inspirational pause” in those moments. She tried to believe him, but often had wondered what he was actually doing in there. Her fantasies had bit by bit spiralled into more ridiculous and paranoid dimensions, from staring at obscure pornography to making schedules for cheating on her with several different women up to believing he had an imaginary wife he escaped to because she couldn’t fulfil his desires. Compared to this hiding a passion for large breasts from her seemed relatively harmless. Nonetheless her heart beat in her throat as she stared at the display of buxom beauties. The longer she looked through them the more horrendous sizes she found. One showed a girl with cyan hair having breasts as big as beach balls in a cleavage-generous deep-buttoned red top, the gaps between the buttons wide to show the black shirt she wore beneath, the woman looking sternly at the viewer with one hand on her hip. Another picture portrayed a brunette girl with cow-like attributes such as horns and a tail outgrowing her bra, her bosom swollen out in body-length from her chest and covering everything below her neck as she leaned against them, a dull but satisfied look on the face. Looking further through them Britney blushed deeply red upon seeing a coloured picture of a blond girl lying in the water on top of a bust bigger than the garage for their car, the person herself only a diminutive attachment on top of them, seemingly bloating her mega ton breasts up by blowing into her thumb.

Still looking down she crossed her hands over her belly, nervously rubbing the plain brazen ring on her right hand. She hadn’t taken it off since the moment her beloved one had put it on her finger two years ago.  Maybe they had been right, it shot through her mind as she remembered the reactions of their friends and families when they told them they would marry. Everyone had immediately said it was too early: They had only been a couple for two years, and 24 was too young to get married anyway. The two of them had just laughed it off. Why wait when their love was already so strong? They were confident the longer they stayed together and the more they found out about each other the stronger their bond would grow, although Britney had doubted there was really anything left they didn’t know about each other. As she glanced at the pictures at her feet however, Britney questioned how much she really knew about her husband.

How long had he been hiding it from her? Since they knew each other? Or had he only developed it because of her… lacks? Seeing the vast busts Britney let out a frustrated sigh, her gaze grazing her own chest. If she had just found normal pornography she maybe wouldn’t have been so shocked. But the discovery her husband secretly longed for hyper- to mega-endowed women forcefully brought her attention to her own “endowments”, if one could even call them that. Deep inside she had always feared her unappealing body would dispel her husband one day. Sure, she was pretty. She had smooth blond hair falling down her back, emerald-green eyes that shined brilliantly and a petite face with delicate features such as a tiny stub nose and slim lips. Her cheeks were a little plumb and ran into a slightly pointy chin, her skin was more on the pale side and she was shorter than most other women, but none of that was really striking. No, the only real lack in her appearance was in her slender body build. It gave her really filigree fingers and a waist many women dreamed off, but also curves most would consider a nightmare: While her butt did have a slight heart-shape, gently pressing against the seat of her clothes Britney’s bosom was flatter than that of most girls at the age of twelve. She hadn’t measured her chest in years, but was sure the difference between her bust and under-bust was below an inch, probably even less than a centimeter. With a sad frown Britney put her hands over her “breasts”, forming small cups with her fingers. Feeling mostly empty the space between her palms and her body she sighed.

Noise from outside the room caught her attention. Startled she turned her head towards the door that lead to the hallway. She heard keys being turned around in the kitchen, followed by the sound of a door opening. “I’m back!”, the voice of her husband called. Britney stood paralysed in the room. Anxiously she listened to any noise from outside the office. With a slight slam the door fell shut. His steps echoed over the tilts as he walked from the kitchen into the living room. Britney felt the blood racing through her veins. Her heart pounded stronger and stronger against her throat, throbbing heavily and fast inside her lithe body. Thoughts were flying through her mind, more than she could compute. What should she do, what should she say, should she even do or say something, how would he react, would he be angry or sad, how should she actually react, should she be sad should she be angry should she would he would he – it all became a big mental blur. Folding her hands in front of her chest Britney closed her eyes. Her heartbeat slowed down a little, while her thoughts became more streamlined. Doubts and insecurities still troubled her. Nevertheless she slowly walked through the small office room towards the door. Leaving the pile of pictures on the floor she stepped through into the hallway, marching it down past their bedroom until she stood in front of the living room. Behind the door she could hear the TV running. Her hands still folded she pressed her knuckles against the doorknob. Very carefully she pushed it down, before pressing her shoulder against the door itself. With a slight “creak” it opened up a crack, the blond carefully taking a peek inside. Though it wasn’t her intention her excerpt on the room was focused on the armchair. Her husband was sitting in it. From her perspective she could see him partly from the side, one of his elbows on the armrest and his head on his fist. The light the TV emitted was shining on the front of his body.

Britney opened the door a bit further. Quietly she entered the room, almost on tiptoes, her hands folded in front of her belly. One, two, three – she counted the little steps she made towards him. At number thirteen she stopped, standing next to the armchair. Looking at her husband she could see his head from the side, and that his legs were crossed on the little stool for his feet. “Hey honey”, he greeted her without looking up from the TV screen. His voice was dry and monotonous, with a rough ring to it. People who didn’t know him would have thought he was in a bad mood, but he always had this analytical tone in his voice, no matter what the situation. Some found this impolite, but Britney didn’t mind his attitude. Actually, his stoic calmness he even preserved in the most passionate moments was one of the major aspects that fascinated her about him. “How was your day?”, he asked, still seeming like he cared more about the TV than her.

Britney didn’t reply at first. She needed to take in a deep breath to stay calm and collected. Almost unconsciously she gulped, hoping he didn’t hear it. “I cleaned up your office room”, she began in an almost inaudible voice.

“You do that once a week, don’t you?”, he simply replied. A twitch suddenly shook his normally unmoving face. Raising his head from his fist he turned his head towards her. “You found them, didn’t you?”, he asked, again monotonous and distanced.

Hesitantly Britney nodded.  He shifted his glance back towards the TV screen. Uncrossing his legs he put both feet on the ground, while grabbing the remote that was lying on the other armrest. One click and the light off the TV went black. There was an awkward moment of silence. “Since when?”, Britney eventually asked.

“Long before I met you”, he admitted, his voice still calm. “It began when I was fourteen, I think, that I started to imagine my female classmates in physical education running around with huge tits. At first it was only for fun. As I grew up however, I was beginning to get more – into those fantasies.”

A shiver went over Britney’ spine, while blood streamed into her cheeks. “And you kept it a secret from me?”, she inquired further. “Although we made a vow to share everything?”

He shrugged. “I was afraid to tell you, I guess”, he replied without facing her. Instead he looked up at the ceiling lamp. As there was still some sunlight streaming through the windows it was off, bathing the room in a dusk sheen. “I was afraid you would write me off as a perv and leave me.”

Britney turned away from him, nervously fidgeting her fingers. “I can’t believe it”, she murmured. Again she had to swallow, trying to suppress the urge to cry. “I-I thought I knew you, but this…” Turning back towards him she raised her voice, fighting with the tears as she spoke. “I mean it doesn’t make any sense! I have the smallest breasts in the entire town, the entire country, damn it, probably even the entire WORLD! But when I told you I considered getting implants one year ago you immediately said you didn’t mind my flat bosom, that you loved me the way I was and didn’t want to change a thing about me – while at the same time you hoarded pictures of women LYING on their breasts! How hypocritical is that?” She panted and sweated, while feeling slight moisture in her eyes. “I-I mean I would have done it! I would have taken the surgery! But you talked me out of it! Why were you so against me doing it? Just so I wouldn’t think of you as a perv? Because you were afraid I would find out your secret?! Because you doubted my love to you!?!”

Her voice was loud enough to pound through the room, Britney breathing heavily. Though she could only look at the back of the armchair she noticed her husband was moving uncomfortably on his seat. “Partly”, he admitted. It was one of the few moments in which she could hear emotion in his voice, for the first time since their wedding. This time though, there wasn’t overwhelming joy in his tone, but nervousness. “It’s true I wouldn’t mind if you got a bit more… curvaceous.” He took in a deep breath. Back in his dry style he continued: “But I know you are afraid or surgeries since you woke up in the middle of your appendectomy when you were a child.”

Startled Britney took a step back. “H-how did you-?”

“Your mom”, he explained. “She’s really nice – for someone who thinks I stole her sweet little daughter from her, you know. I didn’t want to force you going through a trauma so I had something to stare at, and though I admit it pained me a little I told you I don’t need a wife with big tatas to be happy.”

Britney blinked several times. Her gaze slowly moved to the ground. Eyes cast down she pressed her hands together. “This is absurd”, she mumbled lowly, but still audible to him. “The women on those pictures are absurd! The sheer size… the thought any man would find this attractive is…“ She shook her head. “Do you really find a girl with boobs as big as water melons sexy?”, she asked, raising her head again. “Is that what you dream of?”

Silence. Her husband didn’t reply, nor did he move in any way she could detect from her position. The silence quickly began to tear on her nerves, although it lasted only a few seconds. Finally she could hear him take in a deep breath. “If you ask like this, I have to say no.” His rough voice was stoic as usual, lacking even the slightest hint of passion as he said: “I want them far larger than water melons. If it was possible, I want boobs far bigger than the largest fruits to have ever grown on the planet, bigger than all melons or pumpkins known. I dream of breasts so huge no top can contain, so gigantic no bra can tame them. Tailors from all over the world would fail on the task of creating something large enough to cover them, all their designs ripping apart at the first quake of the tremendous tits they try to conceal. They would cover the entire face of the woman that carries them, her entire belly, her legs and her feet. She would have to drag them over the floor for they are too huge to be lifted up, while the peak of their slopes reaches up several feet, better even meters over the top of her head.” He rattled it off like reciting a statistic, as if he was summarising a report. More than ever before the monotony in his voice struck Britney. “Multiple times larger, heavier and more voluminous than the woman herself she wouldn’t carry her boobs, but it would be vice versa. She would be completely unable to move on her own, or see anything but the curves of her flesh no matter where she looks. Her mountains of meat wouldn’t fit in any room or any house and cover entire neighbourhoods in their shadow. She would be nothing but a bosom, and everybody would know her only as a bosom.”

He stopped for a moment. Despite the calmness of his statements she heard him pant slightly as if he was fighting down his excitement. “Yeah… I dream of a woman with tits so gigantic she wouldn’t be able to live on her own”, he continued eventually. “She couldn’t even do the simplest things such as making herself breakfast, eating or move from point A to point B, even if she just wanted to make a single step forward. She would be completely dependent on someone else in every situation of her life – and I would gladly be that someone. I would give up my freedom and willingly become her personal slave. I would make her every meal, breakfast, lunch, dinner, any kind of food from sandwiches to lobster, from boiled rice to French fries - I would prepare it for her at any time she wanted. Climbing over her huge rack until I sat directly in front of her face I would gently feed her, put spoon by spoon, fork by fork into her mouth, would patiently wait until she swallowed before giving her the next portion, and climb the way over her huge hooters again and again to get seconds. I would make sure her sweater puppies far too gigantic for any sweater would always be clean, even if it meant to get the water in single buckets from a river fifty miles away, and rub them inch by inch with a small kitchen cloth. She wouldn’t need to go anywhere ‘cause I’d bring her anything she wanted. I would scratch her wherever it itched. I would warm her whenever she felt cold. I would satisfy any of her needs, and obey to any fantasy she had. I would devote my entire live into loving her, for no other reward than being loved back by her.” Slowly his voice was losing its tranquillity, getting apparently excited by his imagination. “I would spend all my days into caressing and loving her. Her boobs would be my house, my love, my life. And in the night I could just dive into the huge abyss between her monumental mammaries to get some sleep, with no need for pillows or sheets, for all the warmth and comfort I need are granted by the giant piles of flesh surrounding my body.”

During the entire time Britney had quietly listened. Her hands still folded in front of her chest she blushed, with an expression that suited the turmoil inside her. “Then why did you marry me?”, she whispered, pressing her hands against the nearly plain surface of her bosom.

He leaned his head over the side of the armchair, turning his head so his stoic face looked straight at her shining eyes. “Because I love you, stupid.”

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Later that night Britney was sitting at the computer, searching the internet for ways to enhance her bust.

Leaning a little forward in the office chair she stared at the monitor screen, one hand on the mouse, the other on her keyboard, her thighs pressed together as if she was afraid someone sat under the desk and peeked below her rather short night dress at her clean white panties. The wavy hem of the skirt was lying almost directly beneath her buttocks, showing her legs up to their naked feet. On her torso the fabric stopped covering her just above the diminutive bump of her breasts, with a pair of holders keeping it her around her shoulders. Though it wasn’t very form-accenting the silky material didn’t lie to loose around her body, sporting a comfortable slack while not sagging.

As she sat there in their bedroom she couldn’t help but think that in some way, she was a complete failure as a woman. What started as a scolding for her husband ended in one of the most intense experiences since their honeymoon. Thinking of the last few hours they had spent together in the bedroom, a time in which the usually well-caressed curls of her blond hair had turned into a mess Britney blushed slightly while moving uncomfortably on her chair, although at the same time she smiled shyly. She turned her head around, looking at the king-sized bed behind her. Beneath the ruffled blanket her husband was lying on his back, softly snoring. Seeing him sleep gave Britney a warm chill. After admiring her sleeping lover for a while she turned her attention back to the monitor. Putting her elbows on the desk she leaned on her fists, sighing in discontent. She had been searching for half an hour and visited dozens of websites. From pharmacy advertisements to help threads in forums she had looked into anything that might help her improve her rack, with no real results. It either said already the chances to work were pretty low, or sounded completely dubious and unbelieving. And all the things that sounded plausible took either years, only worked for girls in puberty or showed way too little results. Of course she knew there was no way she could satisfy the rather extreme fantasies of her husband. But even if he could not dive in and sleep inside a canyon formed by mountains of breast flesh, at least she wanted him to be able to put his head between a pair of soft breasts and feel their warmth around his face. As far as it seemed though the only way to do so was to go under the knife – a thought that gave the operation-phobic woman shudders.

A little hopeless she tried to think of something she could type into Google. But she had tried pretty much all possible terms already, from “secret of big tits” to “ways to enhance a woman’s bosom” and every imaginable variation, including even the most vulgar ones to circumscriptions that might lead to a scientific study about tests on women how they could get bigger breasts. Having run out of ideas Britney dropped against the back of her chair, her arms hanging from her body while she leaned her head over the headrest. “What must a girl do to get some boobs?”, she moaned. She bopped the chair forth and back, her arms hanging from her while she stared upwards at the ceiling. Her fingers tapped on the underside of the chair. Slowly she tilted her head forward, setting her gaze back on the screen, before lifting her arms and putting her hands on the keyboards. She hesitated a moment. A bit reluctant Britney typed into the search bar What must a girl do to get some boobs? After hesitating another moment she pressed enter.

It took a while for Google to load. Putting her hands on her lap Britney waited a good half minute before the website appeared again. The young blond looked quite surprised at the screen that built up in front of her: There were no page-long entries of useless search results like usually, but only one. It looked a little odd as it only consisted of the blue head title, with no preview to the site or a description. Britney had to reread it several times, not because it was long or complicated though, but simply because the content of the message simply dazzled her.

She has to click this link

Sitting up Britney stared at the screen, unbelieving. Was it a joke, she thought, like the jet ski-thing on Google maps? While she was mostly irritated however, a part of her was curious. And of course there was this small nagging voice in the back of her head that told her “Click it, this might be what you’re looking for” over and over. Or, it suddenly struck her, it could be very well some sort of trap from a group of hackers, and if she clicked the link all data would be stolen from their computer. She put a finger on her lips, biting on her nail. Should she risk it? A bit hesitant in fear of downloading a virus she slowly moved the cursor towards the link. Her finger twitched several times on the left mouse button as the arrow hovered above the link. Almost accidentally she pressed it down, the screen going white as the link was opened. The screen remained white for several seconds. Britney stared at the blank website, feeling more uneasy the longer nothing happened. Her teeth scratched over the nail of her finger, scraping off some lacquer. She was about to close the explorer when a grey task window suddenly appeared in the middle of the screen. In the center of it was an empty progress bar, and in the bottom right corner a small button that read Increase bust size.

For a moment Britney stared dumfounded at it. Suddenly she burst out into laughter, as lowly as possible though not to wake up her husband. “Nice one Google”, she whispered between chuckles. “You almost had me!” She was about to open another tab to Facebook and show this Google joke to some of her friends, but the cursor stopped on half its way. Her eyes rested on the little rectangular button. “Maybe something will happen if I click it?”, she asked out loud. “Like the picture of a woman’s head pops up that gets steadily zoomed in – a growing bust?” Britney doubted whoever had programmed this was such master of subtle humor, but she did wonder what would happen if she clicked the button. The cursor moved back to the little grey window. She placed it in the bottom right corner, at the center of the button between the “u” and “s” of “bust”, and clicked on the left mouse button.

No image popped up, but the cursor transformed into an hourglass. Britney rested her head on her fists, leaning over the desk, and looked at the screen. While she waited for something to happen she came back to the question that had brought her here: How could she maker her bosom bigger for her husband? “Maybe I’ll just give him some edited pictures of me with giant boobs”, she joked to herself. Just then a little blue stripe appeared on the left end of the progress bar. Immediately the playfulness and amusement in Britney’s expression were replaced by shock and surprise. Her stomach turned around, her whole body froze, every part of her grew stiff like a board. The young woman was almost paralysed, all because of one sensation in her.

The moment the blue bar had appeared it felt like her chest had reached out from her a bit.

Unable to move Britney sat silently in the chair. All thoughts wiped off from her mind she could feel clearly how the unimpressive bumps beneath the blue fabric were steadily bulging out from her. Their almost non-existent curves vaulted outwards while spreading over the plain surface of her chest. Only slowly Britney was awakening from her coma. Her gaze was still fixated on the screen, staring at the little grey box. With each millimeter the blue bar moved forth her rack did as well, filling up the slight slack in her gown. Parts of the rising mounds grazed the loose fabric covering them as they ballooned bigger, pressing on a gradually growing area against it. After a while Britney lowered her head and looked down on her chest. While far away from being striking Britney could see the difference in the size of her bust, being still rather flat, but not quite as much as usually. It looked a bit like little cherries had been put into her clothes and were lifting up her dress slightly – and the further the bar on the screen moved the larger those cherries were getting.

Fully conscious again Britney dropped her jaw. Her eyes opened widely in shock, while she put her hands over her open mouth. “Oh my god!”, she gasped. A loud snore behind her made her almost jump in her seat. Quickly she turned her head around. Her husband’s mouth hung wide open, but he was still sleeping. Britney sighed in relief, immediately feeling however how her small breasts pressed a little more against her dress than usually. The fabric began to bulge slightly under the cambering curves beneath it while the space between her breasts was getting darker as they were starting to throw a shadow. Additionally to the visual apparentness of the growth Britney could also hear as the fabric was ruffled, throwing wrinkles and getting evened at the same time. Looking down on her growing chest she saw it go up and down at a steadily increasing pace as her breathing got faster, just like the rhythm of her heart-beat was pounding heavier and more frequently in her ears. “Oh my god”, she whispered again. Placing her hands on her chest she hastily sensed for curves. Her fingers moved in circles over the rising bumps of her breasts, clearly feeling how they arched not only forward and away from her body, but at the same time were getting a more arcuate shape. “Oh my god!”, it slipped through her lips once more, watching and feeling the small mounds swelling out from her body. “Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygod…”

Like a broken record she repeated the same phrase over and over again. Everything felt so clear to her: The tissue of her bosom spreading out, the little bumps gradually reaching forward, her dress being filled out by them, her hands feeling their ascension – it was all so crystal clear, yet her mind refused to believe this. Britney looked up at the screen again, seeing the bar was still constantly moving forward, her breasts immediately reacting to every millimeter it moved. She had searched the internet for ways to enhance her bust, in hope of granting her husband one of his greatest and most secret wishes. Never had she imagined to find something that would work so… well. Frantically Britney shook her head, putting her hands off her bust. This situation lacked any reasonable explanation, any logic, any kind of sense. Clicking on a link that made a progress bar appear which caused her breasts to grow seemed like the fantasy for smut – still, it was exactly what was happening to her. Panting heavily the shocked blond could only sit there and stare at her breasts growing larger by the second, the cherries in her dress having turned into plums, very ripe plums that pushed the front of her dress almost an inch forward from the rest of her chest.

As the bump of her bosom continued to swell the distinct curves of each breast were showing more and more through. Between her massing mammaries the fabric began to fall in slightly, the balance between wrinkles and even fabric steadily shifting towards the later around the protruding front of her assets. Beneath her dress the inner slopes of her breasts were slowly coming closer, gently rubbing against each other on a rising surface. Meanwhile the roundings of her breasts caused their edges to become crooked at the bottom. Growing from diminutive elevations towards small domes they were getting big enough one could call them firm, having a solid hold on her body. The bigger they got the more apparent this became, her little semi-spheres sticking proud and stout from her body. Her humble bosom steadily lost its humbleness, surging out bit by bit from her body. As the fabric around her chest continued to deform Britney felt the rim of her neckline starting to move downwards while at the same time her bust was pulling on the fabric below it, raising it towards its growing curves. Every slight amount their curvature stuck out increased the amount of dress they needed. On the front of her assets the fabric was mainly even, the stitching starting to stretch, while new wrinkles appeared at the flanks of her bust as they vaulted outwards to a gradually rounder shape. Turning from small domes to little spheres the plums in her dress grew to the size of apples, from little wild apples up to the standard size found in super markets to increasingly larger sorts like Braeburn.

Watching her burgeoning breasts Britney was slowly calming down. Her heart still beat very fast, and her breathing stayed laboured, but her shock was starting to change into another emotion. As she looked down on herself she could see a pair of little B-, if not C-cups resting snuggly inside her baby-blue dress, conquering material and appearing ever more shapely. Carefully she put her index and middle finger on the side of her breast, feeling its arching surface reaching outwards and getting wider. “Wow”, she whispered as the tips of her fingers ran over the smooth fabric, feeling it stretch under her bosom. Over the rim of her dress a small gap appeared as her bosom forced it lower. Britney greeted her tiny cleavage with a shy smile. “Wow”, she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper. She crossed her arms over her chest, the palm of her right hand cupping the left breast and vice versa. Feeling her breasts swell against her arms Britney closed her eyes, strongly pressing her arms against her body. “I have… boobs”, she murmured, tilting her head to the side while moving her arms as if she was holding a new-born baby. “I-I really… have… boobs.”

She remained for a while in that pose, a while during which her breasts grew to the size of ripe grapefruits. Though compressed in her hands the shape of her orbs continued to become more spherical, their widest parts reaching over the sides of her body while their tops bulged upwards, higher than breasts usually would at this size. Meanwhile the neck of her night dress slid steadily deeper, extending the view on her meat buns and the gap between them. The more limited the space inside her dress became the narrower this gap got, her breasts rubbing with growing force and on a growing area against each other. While her bust pulled down her dress, revealing roughly a centimeter of cleavage as they reached out three inches from Britney’s body the amount of fabric getting lifted was starting to become noticeable as well, gliding up her belly and raising the hem of her skirt. The more the bottom of her bosom vaulted and the fabric fell into the gap between it and her body the easier it became to peek at Britney’s underwear. The young blond however didn’t care about this, being completely focused on her mammary issues. Letting go of her mounds they jiggled a little as they were able to spread out to their full form. Britney blushed as stared down at her prospering perkers. At the same time however a slight smile graced her lips, steadily growing wider the further her chest flared out from her.

After admiring the scenery of her swelling spheres a bit longer she raised her glance from her bosom towards the screen. As the progress of the bar had been rather slow Britney was surprised to see it was almost full, only a little part missing before it was complete. What also surprised, even startled her a little was she majorly felt disappointment over the prospect of her growth coming to an end. The curves of her assets arched outward at a gradually decreasing rate, the rim of her dress sliding down slower and slower until it practically came to a halt. Around her puffing orbs the stretching noise calmed down, Britney feeling her fabric getting not pulled as fast around them anymore as before. Both perceptions strengthened over the course of time, Britney watching as the expansion of her breasts slowed down bit by bit until she barely detected an increase in size anymore. Eventually the pressure around her bosom stopped increasing completely, the fabric rested at its place, and no matter how closely she looked Britney couldn’t watch her bust swelling out from her in the least. Fixated on her bust she looked into her nimble cleavage, displaying a slim, but fine black between her blown-up baubles.

“That was… rather strange”, she murmured to herself, running her hands over the smooth curves of her ample assets. She guessed her cup-size somewhere between a “D” and an “E”, each of her mounds having the rough diameter of a CD. “But one shouldn’t complain about miracles”, she suddenly smirked, and firmly pressed her fingers into her breasts. As stout as they were, their shape close if not equivalent to that of perfect spheres her flesh still had a rather soft substance, giving in to her pressing fingers and flowing around as she gave them a gentle squeeze. Britney certainly was puzzled about all of this, and to her it wouldn’t have been surprising if she suddenly woke up next to her husband inside the bed and found it was all a dream. If this was really true though, what reason had she to lament? She had searched for a way to make her breasts bigger and had found one, even if it was a rather obscure method. Over and over she stroke over her bosom, her fingers gliding over the silky fabric lying tightly over them. While her breasts were far away from “leaving neighbourhoods in their shadow” Britney was confident her husband would like the change.

With a cheerful smile she let go of her breasts, looking up to the monitor again. The blue bar was completely filled out from beginning to end. Taking the mouse Britney was just about to move the cursor over the “X”, shut down the computer and wake her husband up to show him the “little” surprise she had for him. She wondered for a moment if she should just let him sleep and act like she had a surprise growth spurt in the morning when she noticed something was different about the window. Left to the Increase bust size-button another one had appeared. It read Extend bar.

Britney pulled her head back from the monitor, looking with an awkward expression at the button. She blinked several times before several thoughts began to invade her mind. One thought especially was prominent in her head, driven by curiosity and excitement while being held back by embarrassment and reason. Symbolising the struggle of her emotions the cursor of the mouse hectically moved around the screen, approaching and distancing itself from the button. When it finally hovered above it another minute passed, Britney’s hand nervously shaking before her right index finger pressed down on the mouse button.

As she clicked it the blue progress bar shrunk down to half its size.

Britney rolled back in her chair as if someone had scared her, making a weak yelp. One of the wheels bumped against the foot of the bed, making a weak “clack” upon the impact. Immediately Britney turned towards her husband. He was still snoring softly, one arm lying over his face. “Aw, he’s so cute”, she marvelled at his sight, smiling softly. After watching him sleep for a moment she rolled her chair back to the desk. Looking at the window with the half-empty bar she also found the text of the button she had just clicked wasn’t grey, indicating she could click it again. More prominently however she stared at the button next to it, still reading Increase bust size.

With trembling fingers Britney grabbed the mouse. Almost on instinct she moved the cursor over the button, and before she could change her mind she hastily clicked on it.

The cursor turned into an hourglass again. After a few seconds the blue bar slowly continued to creep forward. In the same instant it began to fill up she felt her chest swelling out against the confines of her night dress once more. Britney took in a sharp breath, clasping her hands around her breasts as her whole body stiffened. As she felt the tender, yet stout spheres of flesh invade the space in her palms and between her fingers however, gently rubbing and pressing against her hands the tension in her muscles quickly dissolved. All her stress she breathed out with a satisfied sigh, her shoulders slacking while her whole body sunk into the office chair. Sitting relaxed she felt her bosom slowly surging out, pulling her night gown further around it. As the fabric was wrapped from her body onto her bust the hem of her skirt soon wandered upwards again as well, while her gown tightened not only around her chest but on her entire body, smoothing over her back, belly and butt. In her grip the little balls bulged larger and rounder, growing to the size of cantaloupes. Her fingers steadily spread out over their rising roundings, her hands being pushed aside as the flanks of her bust vaulted against her palms. While the width of her breasts increased, their broadest parts sneaking further and further over the edges of her body the basement of her curves continued to camber, the angle between her bosom and her body getting bit by bit more acute. Gradually being shaped into a pair of perfectly round spheres the top of her bosom slipped out of the fabric and pushed up the holders of her dress, her little cleavage growing deeper as the neck of her clothes wandered lower. At the same time the contours of her milkjugs’ undersides got more apparent, the fabric evening over the bulging slopes of flesh.

Despite the pressure arising all around and between her breasts as fabric stretched and cleavage narrowed Britney grabbed them a little firmer. The wrinkles around her fingers increased and grew larger as she pressed them deeper into her flesh. Compressing slightly the size of her bust was getting a rough centimetre slimmer on both sides, the mass it “lost” getting added to the top, bottom and front. The black line in the middle of her bosom also grew thinner, even more as her assets continued to loll out of the neck of her night gown. With rising strength her breasts pushed Britney’s hands apart, slowly expanding to the sides, a little faster to the front. Giggling the young woman eased the grip on her bosom again, making it jiggle softly for a few seconds. Her hands remained on the sides of her bust so she could feel it vault against her palms and bend her fingers over their rising curves. Ballooning evenly out to all sides again the firmness of her orbs became even more prominent as the upper slopes of her bosom bulged higher at the same speed as the lower ones reached downwards, while the rest of her rack remained its position and didn’t sag down. What sagged down was the rim of her neckline, the silky substance of her gown stroking her skin as it softly slid lower. More cleavage was exposed with each millimeter her dress wandered deeper, the charging front of her bust pulling the fabric tautly around its swelling roundings. The more her gown was wrapped over her heavy hooters the more it folded around them, throwing a rising number of steadily larger wrinkles with every bit her assets were arching out from her body. As the silky material was stretching its sky-blue colour turned bleak over the curves of her bust. In the same manner the fabric was growing tighter and the wrinkles more numerous and larger over her burgeoning breasts the smile of the blonde was expanding over her face. Britney had a hard time to resist the urge of digging into her firm flesh, tapping with her fingers on the swelling slopes of her spheres instead. Unnoticeable vibrations quaked through her bosom every time one of her fingers hit it. Each little ripple sent a small shiver down her spine.

Eventually Britney had to force herself to stop tapping before she could get too “excited” about it. Slightly she leaned backwards, sticking her chest out even further from her body and pressing it against her taut clothes. On the protruding front of her bust the stretching noise her night dress made quickly grew louder. One last creak, one final crescendo emerged from the stretching fabric before it gave away with a loud rip, splitting apart over her cleavage. The subtle line above the rim of the fabric doubled in length, reaching down a rough third of her bosom. Softly the jagged rims of the tear stroked her smooth skin as it slid over the bulging curves of her breasts, taking on a soft V-shape. The moment it broke apart Britney opened her mouth, but no sound made it out of her throat. Instead she gently stroke over her stretched nightgown, embracing the head-sized mounds sticking out from her. Once more she carefully pressed her hands into the firm flesh of her bosom, hissing through her teeth as they sunk into the surprisingly soft curves. The fabric was so tight by then it didn’t throw wrinkles around her fingers anymore. Instead it followed them as they dug into her meat, until at a certain degree of squeeze the stitches gave in to the pressure and broke apart. Ten tiny tears formed on each side of her breast, located at the conjunction between her hands and her fingers, on the opposite side of her knuckles. Upon hearing the rips Britney immediately eased the pressure on her breasts, but again let her hands rest on their outstanding roundings. Beneath Britney’s bust bit by bit billowed bigger, becoming buxom bulges bending her hands as they vaulted while at the same time compressing her cleavage.

The further her globes were jutting forward, protruding over eight inches out from her torso the more of her body was blocked by their cambering curves. The highest part of her torso vanished behind their ascending tops while their flanks almost completely covered her upper arms, only her shoulders and elbows looking out in the corners. Simultaneously the bottoms of her rack rolled down her ribcage, the shadow her breasts casted steadily flowing down her belly. Over her tummy the fabric was gliding upwards as it was getting wrapped around her bust, the hem of her skirt slowly moving up her legs like the progress bar was sneaking forward. The ten tiny tears in her gown, five forming a scythe on each side of her bosom grew wider as the fabric around them was pulled over the bulges of her bosom. From thimble-like holes they ripped gradually larger, unveiling more of the bright skin under the bright blue fabric. The hue of her dress was shifting further towards paleness as her mammaries pressed against her dress, lying basically skin-tight around them and accenting their form. As the fabric slid over her bust slopes her V-neck bit by bit opened, the tip of her cleavage at the same time steadily ripping deeper and giving sight to more of Britney’s charms. On the underside of her bust her gown was falling into the sink of her breasts, making the individual curves of each orb more apparent. Stitches creaked and popped everywhere over her chest, growing weaker by the moment. A sixth rip was added to the ones on her right breast, a bit larger and located closer towards the lower half of her bust, before two more popped up on her left breast next to the rim of her V-neck and continued the scythe the other five formed upwards. Still having her hands on her bosom Britney could feel her flesh surging out of the rips, slightly only, but she could still sense they were reaching out a bit wider as everywhere else.

As her breasts had blown significantly towards the largest parts of her body, concurring her firm butt cheeks, she felt the sensation of swelling slowly subsiding, coming to an end. Her whole body stiff she waited until she barely felt pressure building up in her dress anymore, the tingle in her mammaries decreasing until she could no more flesh bulging against her hands. Softly the young woman breathed in and out, the fabric stretching and relaxing with each pant over her chest. Clinging to the weak feeling of growth she pressed her hands a little deeper into her assets to still feel their expansion. Before her gown could rip apart under her squeezing fingers the subtle feeling completely disappeared from her enhanced endowments. It still took a while before she released the grip on her breasts, though she left her hands on them to feel their glorious grandness. Even after the growth ended Britney remained in this position, her hands on the sides of her bust, her butt slightly shifted forward in her chair, her head put so far back she would have stared at the ceiling if her eyes weren’t closed. She could feel her voluminous and voluptuous breasts moving forth and back with her heavy breaths, the rips in the fabric widening and shrinking as she breathed in and out. After remaining a whole minute like that she slowly lowered her head, taking a shy glimpse at her blown-up rack. Although she could already feel the size of her globes, seeing the volleyball-sized spheres hugging her nightie made the blond woman gasp. A good foot of cleavage stood at display above her neckline, forming a tight, but subtly curved valley. Almost the entire surface of her bosom’s tops was revealed, the smooth skin shining slightly in the moonlight that fell through the window. Only a slight line on each breast hid their upper halves, the holders of her gown having quietly bend under them and resting tightly, but not form-damaging on them.

Staring at the slopes of her breasts she was once more amazed by their astonishing firmness, being a seemingly perfect pair of orbs with no weight or mass visible. While on one end they were on height with the bottom of her neck they only slightly lapped below her ribcage on the other end, their lower curves clearly visible as the fabric lay skin-tight around her bosom’s bottom. Running her hands over the sides of her bust that were almost wider than Britney was from one hip to the other she felt the subtle tenderness of her flesh through the tense fabric of her dress, and often her palms rubbed her skin directly as they stroke over one of the small tears. She could only vaguely see the front of her chest, but she clearly felt the fabric falling into the sink between the anterior arches of her assets, her cleavage slightly shining through as her night gown was almost sheer at that spot. After a while of feeling their firmness Britney’s hands came to a halt on the sides of her breasts again. Softly Britney squeezed her massive meat buns, looking in awe on them, her mouth a tiny gap wide open. It took a while however for her to completely compute her situation: She was sitting late-night in front of the computer, dressed in nothing but a night gown, with a pair of breasts that had blown up due to a mysterious program she had found after following a dubious link on Google. Question after question was popping up in her mind. What was this all about? Was she dreaming after all? Or was this real? Did she really just grow into the most buxom woman on the planet? Could she grow herself even more? Was there a limit to how much she could grow? Or did the program offer infinite growth? Without answering any of this it all led her bit by bit towards one ultimate question: Did she want to grow further?

Raising her glance from her cleavage Britney looked at the monitor. There was still the window in the middle of the box, the progress bar completely blue. She took off one hand from her bosom and put in on the mouse. The cursor constantly moved between the “X” in the top corner and the buttons on the bottom, as if it couldn’t decide where it wanted to rest.

But eventually it began to tend towards the lower half of the task window.

Slowly Britney led the cursor towards Extend bar, before putting her hand off the mouse and letting it hover above. For a few seconds she stared at the screen, biting her lower lip. Like a snake snapping for prey she hit the mouse button with her finger and immediately pulled her hand back again. The bar shrunk down, only filling out half the available space. Slowly Britney moved her hand back to the mouse. It was shaking as she embraced it, the nervous woman moving the cursor carefully towards the Increase bust size-button. Before it had left Extend bar however her shivering fingers accidentally clicked left again. Again the size of the blue bar was cut in half, only filling out a quarter of it. A jolt went through Britney’s body, her shock making her twitch her fingers. Two more times she clicked on the left mouse button, reducing the bar to a sixteenth of its full capacity. Quickly Britney pulled her hand back and embraced it with her other one not to cause any more damage. Wide-eyed she stared at the bar, seeing how little of it was filled out. Hastily her eyes went over the screen, but she found no button or anything that might make it shrink down again. If she clicked Increase bust size her breasts would grow sixteen times bigger from their current size.

A sly smile suddenly crept over her face. With a spark of excitement gleaming in her eyes Britney slowly moved her hand back on the mouse, and moved the cursor on the desired spot. After hesitating another moment she clicked on Increase bust size.

The sound as Britney clicked on the left mouse button was soft and could only be heard for a split second. In her ears however it echoed like a bursting thunder. Letting go of the mouse she raised her hand, putting it on the side of her bosom. Her eyes fixed on the blue bar she eagerly stared at the screen, softly stroking the wide flanks of her bust. The surface of her palms scratched over the jagged rim of the tears, rubbing the fabric faster and harder the longer she waited for her meaty mounds to swell against her palms. As nothing happened for several seconds however she slowed down her caressing, while the corners of her mouth were dropping slightly. “Guess I went a bit too far”, she mumbled, blushing slightly as she realised how large sixteen times bigger than her current size would have been. She giggled, her chuckles slowly rising up to a soft laugh. “God, what was I thinking?”, she asked herself, before sighing in relief. “My boobs would have blown up into monsters! I would have been more boob than woman! Good thing it didn’t work-”

In the very moment she said that the blue bar crept a tad bit forward.

Britney froze. Her entire body grew stiff. Very slowly she lowered her glance, staring into her deep neckline. It remained still, only slightly moving from her breathes. Then, from an instant to the next the soft walls of her cleavage began to vault. The tops of her breasts rose out of her décolleté. The fabric surrounding her bust was pulled tighter. Immediately she raised her head again. Looking at the screen she watched the blue line moving, bit by bit creeping towards the end of the bar. Still holding her breasts she felt her flesh squeezing through the tears, making the surface under her palms rougher by the second. For a moment she dully sated at the screen, feeling her bosom bulge beneath her hands. Suddenly her lips curled to a smile, opening a little to show her teeth as her smirk spread further over her face with each millimeter her orbs ballooned bigger. Enjoying the swelling of her assets Britney gently stoke them, feeling as the little bubbles of meat pressing through the tears were becoming bit by bit bigger. As they flowed through the small rifts the fabric around them was pushed aside, extending the display on her skin. Her gown was ripping apart and turning brighter over her billowing flesh, the tip of her V-neck getting deeper as the sides of her V-neck were pulled over her bust and her neckline wandered down her burgeoning slopes. On their basement her curves were slowly arching backwards, giving her breasts a “backside” the further they charged away from her body. Like the rest of them their fronts were getting rounder as they splayed out, smoothing her nightie around their ascents. The fabric on the lower half of her bosom also evened the more the slopes reached downwards, lying over most of her ribcage and rolling down her belly. While ever more fabric fell into the gap between the undersides of her breasts and her torso, making the outlines of her curves shine steadily clearer through the dress the hem of her skirt started to wander higher. The tightness of her gown increased all around her body, Britney feeling it being strained over her back and belly.

Steadily more bosom meat surged out from the grip of her dress, shining in the room’s sparse light. The bright colour of her skin accented the dark cleavage in the middle, going steadily deeper as the rip in the gown expanded. The holders, having rested snuggly on top without damaging the form of her breasts started to slightly dig into them, leaving soft rills on the surface of their upper slopes. In a few seconds her volleyballs had grown up to basketballs. Still looking as the bar on the screen was filling up Britney saw the tops of her meat buns pushing into her sight, coming gradually closer to her chin. Though she was turning steadily into a bust monster she became more excited the harder the weight was dragging on her shoulders, the immense firmness not able to completely compensate the load on her chest anymore. Stopping her stroking she removed her hands from her globes, placing them on her lap that was mainly uncovered from her skirt. She folded her fingers, at the same time pressing her thighs together and leaning against the backrest of the chair. Her butt slid further towards the edge of the seat while she put her head back, closing her eyes. Over the flanks of her bosom one couldn’t see her upper arms anymore, each mound being almost as wide as her waist. While their perfectly spherical surface was very striking on the outside their inner curves couldn’t spread out as much since they were hindering each other, the walls of her cleavage rubbing together as they continued to flare wider. The slight squeezing of her breasts caused their fronts to shift a bit to the side, their centers pointing more away from each other the further as her bust line reach out from her. As her feminine roundings cambered outwards her dress grew flimsily thin around them, becoming semi-sheer and bleak. On the bottom of her left breast the fabric was suddenly pulled apart into every direction up its slopes, causing an almost round hole to be torn into it. It was considerably larger than the others, showing the deepest point of her left breast vaulting downwards and out of the fabric. Not long after another tear appeared on her right one, however not symmetrically on the bottom but on its flank, in the middle of the other little holes. As Britney’s spheres swelled the rips widened over their bulging curvature, the fabric slowly splitting and ripping apart around them.

Slight ripples went through her bosom as it pushed in and out from her chest, sharp pants emerging from Britney who breathed deeply through her teeth. The heavy breathing accelerated the breaking of her gown, its already bleak blue colour getting brighter and the tears growing bigger. Britney pressed her thighs with growing force together while driving her folded hands into the narrow gap between them. Over her wristlets she felt the hem of her skirt slipping up, having almost risen over her entire legs. Peeking at her panties would have been no big ordeal if she hadn’t pressed her thighs together. With a long sigh that went on nearly ten seconds she suddenly relaxed her whole body, spreading her legs and unfolding her hands while letting her arms fall from the sides of the chair. While steadily more of her underwear looked out beneath her skirt her breasts were starting to get cramped inside her gown. Though they were still gliding bit by bit out over the rim of her neckline, the majority of the upper half of her bust being at display the speed at which they left their confines had decreased considerably, the pressure and friction on the fabric making it stay at its height. Meanwhile the tip of her cleavage seemingly remained at its position while it was in truth steadily ripping deeper, but at the same pace new fabric was pulled up the lower slopes of her bosom.

Steadily the tear on the bottom of her left breast expanded while the fabric lay so tight on the rest of the lower half of her curves one could have thought the undersides of her udders were painted bright blue. Suddenly the “paint” split apart between her breasts, revealing a handful of under-cleavage that slowly extended. As the dress was getting tighter it was getting difficult for her bust to flare wider, the flanks bit by bit deforming from dome-like towards a slightly 3-shaped curve. The holders weren’t pressing quite as softly into their tops anymore, starting to hinder them at spreading upwards. While her orbs were slowly turning towards more pumpkin-like forms they still blow up swiftly enough Britney could feel them invading the empty space around her: The highest slopes of her bosom almost were on height with her chin, the front nearly stood out two feet from her, the bottoms were close to her belly button and it was so wide she couldn’t have pulled her arms around her breasts and touched her fingers over her cleavage, each of her globes being as big as a large water melon. After a moment of feeling her melons grow into gradually larger sorts Britney opened one eye, glancing at the screen of the monitor.

The blue bar had barely moved from its original position, maybe filling up 20% of the available space.

Her arms still hanging from the sides of her body Britney clenched her hands into fists, shaking them in excitement. Looking back into her décolleté the pictures of the women she had found in her husband’s drawer came to her mind. The one with the cyan hair she had almost outdone, her assets standing on the border between big medicine balls and small beach balls. Thinking about the drawings of her husband she turned her head to the bed behind her. Lying on his back with the blanket up to his chest the love of her life was still sleeping and snoring peacefully. The longer she looked at him, the longer she stared into the face she had fallen to at first sight the more unrest settled into her soul. Her grin got bigger, her fists shook harder, her thighs trembled so hard it affected her growing bust, making it jiggle slightly. For him she was ready to turn into the bustiest woman on the entire planet. The urge to show him the results of her “work” steadily got stronger. She tried to resist it, telling herself she should wait until the next morning or at least until she had stopped expanding. “Why?”, she suddenly asked herself aloud, smirking deviously towards her husband before looking at the softly swelling spheres pointing out from her chest. Wouldn’t it be even more of a surprise if she woke her breast-hungry husband up in the mkidst of her growth, and literally shove her billowing meat buns into his face?

Slowly Britney turned the office chair around. Eyes on her husband her bust steadily ascended until the whole glory of her globes’ upper slopes were in her vision. They had filled up the bottom of her sight, and as they continued to rise up over her chin the amount she could see when looking straight forward decreased by the second. The young blonde put her hands on the armrests of the chair and carefully pushed herself up. The moment her butt left the cushioned seat it felt like her bosom suddenly became twenty times heavier, Britney needing most of her strength just to keep her rear a centimetre over the chair. Great wobbles went through her breasts as she fell back down on it, her bum hitting the seat and her back the rest behind her. “Ungh”, she moaned, waiting a moment to let her bosom bounce out. Again she tried to stand up, using all the force in her arms, legs and back. Her face put on a slightly painful grimace as she raised her butt, gritting her teeth the further it was raised. “Come on”, she murmured. Slowly her lower half was distancing from the chair, just like her bust as she bit by bit got on her feet. With a sigh of victory she completely pushed herself off from the chair, standing in front of it. In this posture a small part of her butt cheeks looked as well as her white butt-hugging panties out beneath the hem of her dress, the firm curves of her posterior gradually getting revealed as the skirt slid upwards. Standing proudly between the chair and the bed one could fully see the astonishing firmness of her breasts for the blink of a second, each sticking greatly out from her as a perfectly globular mass of tissue with an abundance of cleavage between them.

It was only for a moment however for the weight quickly pulled her forward, her center of gravity being pretty much in the center of her breasts. “Whoa-whoa-whoa!”, was all Britney brought out as her body tilted forward. She could only flail her arms for a moment before she lost her balance, the heels of her feet lifted from the ground and making her fall bust-ahead towards the mattress. The first thing landing was of course her outstanding rack. At the very moment it crashed on the bed both holders of her gown immediately broke apart at the neck of her dress, jumping over her shoulders and hanging from her back. Falling forward Britney pushed her humongous hooters over the blanket, pulling the fabric around them as it was dragged along. While sliding over the bed Britney heard her nightgown ripping further apart, breaking over her buoyant curves. As her lap hit the edge of the mattress her avalanche assets stopped, resting in the middle of her bed right beneath the feet of her husband.

Her face inside her cleavage Britney positioned her arms next to the sides of her bust – a difficult task as she had to manoeuvre them past their wide curves – and pressed her hands against the mattress. Slowly she lifted herself up, just so much the pressure on her breasts was only making them compress to a very slight oval shape and she could raise her head from the deep abyss between them. “Ouch”, she mumbled, her face hurting slightly. For groping, the structure of her flesh was perfect, but when falling with her face between them she found her orbs could be a little bit softer. Though her head had just rested inside her décolleté she lowered her glance back on it, inspecting her rack again. The holders were gone, but the fabric remained due to the sheer pressure her chest enforced on it – although she couldn’t see this well as most of her dress was past the wide tops of her breasts out of her sight. Pulling her arms around them she quickly fumbled for new tears. On the bottom of her right mound a large tear had formed symmetrical to the other, leaving the deepest slopes of her bust bare from cover. Her under-cleavage had also extended, reaching to the bottom of her bosom on one end while a hint of it was visible from the front. As her hands wandered over the sides of her breasts she felt the fabric being mainly intact until she approached the most outstanding parts of her globes, feeling the numerous little tears had united and formed a large circular hole on each flank of her bust, a bit wider on the right since a big hole had already been there before. Britney gulped slightly as she touched around the jagged outlines of the tears, feeling their size. The more flesh squeezed through them the more their irregular rims were tickling her. Hands on the sides of her curves again, this time touching them directly through the tears and feeling her flesh vault Britney stared at her ballooning bikini bombs. Their magnitude was beyond anything she had ever seen or imagined, beyond anything that was even close to natural. A little nervous she stared back at the screen, the bar still far away from being full. Doubts were arising to her if this really had been such a wise idea. Biting her lower lip she turned her glance towards her husband. But as she watched him sleep, one arm above his head with his mouth open and snoring soundly her desires for him were soon convincing her to have done the right thing.

The semi-circular wrinkles her bust were throwing on the blanket moved as Britney dragged her breasts over the mattress while pulling her legs on it. Turning towards her loved one she dragged her bosom on his feet. Her charms softly swelled over his legs, slowly engulfing them. With a wide smirk she crawled on her hands and knees forward, up the body of her husband. While her arms steadily crooked under the arching sides of her breasts she pushed her charms further and further up his legs. Though she couldn’t see exactly where they were she clearly felt the contours of his body pressing through the blanket against her bust: After sliding up his lower legs she felt deep dents forming on her even slopes as she reached his knees, becoming a bit shallower but wider as she moved up his thighs. After passing his legs she made her way up his torso, going over his belly. The entire time her bosom continued to surge out from her and push her body higher into the air. As she reached his ribcage she had to take her arms off the bed as she couldn’t reach around her breasts anymore, neither on the sides not on the bottom, and placed them on the bare tops of her meat mounds that pointed at the wall behind the bed. After she reached his chest, her own completely filling it out Britney stopped. The slope of her bosom between front and bottom was lying on him, her V-neck directly sticking towards his nose. She lowered her bum on his lap, her legs spreading out slightly over the bed as she sat up slightly. Lying on her husband she looked beyond her bust into his face. Despite the weight on him he was still sleeping peacefully, obviously oblivious to what she was doing. Slight ripples went through Britney’s breasts as she giggled. She lifted her butt to lean against her big bust and squash it between their bodies. “Darling♥”, she whispered, pressing her bosom with a little more strength against her husband.

The man under Britney produced a sound half snoring, half moaning. Over the ascending horizon of her billowing breasts Britney watched him groggily open his eyes. After blinking a few times to get the sleep out of his sight his pupils looked up to the mounds that massed on his body, looking past their wide slopes up to the face on the other side. With a slight blush on her cheeks Britney smiled down on him, her mouth slowly vanishing behind her curves. “I figured I would have that dream tonight”, he murmured, sounding as stoic as always as he looked up her bust.

Even more waves of flesh rolled over Britney’s breasts as she chuckled louder, while leaning further against them. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you “dream” of big tits, huh?”, she asked with a teasing grin on her face. A strand of her hair fell from her shoulder, landing on the rising slopes of her bosom. “You little perv!”, she said, sticking her tongue out and tapping with her fingers on her huge piles of meat. The term “beach balls” was starting to get insufficient to describe the quantity of her breasts, each being vast enough to cover the chest of her husband by itself. Steadily greater amounts of her bust spread out over the sides of his body and against his shoulders. He pulled his arm out from under the blanket, Britney watching him curiously as he placed his hands on her swelling curves while looking monotonously at the burgeoning bosom on top of him. His hands weakly pressed against the fabric of her dress as it was stretching and gliding over her balloons, the stitches creaking a little under his palms. As the mass between their bodies increased Britney had to press steadily more against her bust to see his face, compressing it bit by bit. Her flesh gave resistance the more she squeezed her body down on it, while at the same time she felt it softly bulging against her belly. “So how does the dream usually continue?”, she asked.

Watching the cleavage camber up his body towards his face her husband slowly moved his hands over the soft vaults forming the cavernous chasm. Britney couldn’t see it as it was on the opposite side of her bust from her, but as his hands left the fabric and came in contact with her skin she clearly felt the stroke of every single finger gently rubbing over her. “Well, there are some variations, but in most cases you climb on top of me and rub your tits into my face”, he replied while stroking the walls of her cleavage.

The touch of her husband made Britney grin even wider. Slowly she moved her arms into her cleavage, placing her hands on the curves inside it while putting her lower arms horizontally on the slopes of her bosom. “You mean like this?”, she asked, giggling as she pushed her breasts further up her husband’s body. Approaching his head even faster the sides of her cleavage steadily came closer to his chin, eventually enveloping it. Raising his head he was right in between the humongous stacks of flesh, feeling their inner walls arching bit by bit against his cheeks while increasing the pressure on his nose. As Britney continued to drag her bust up and pressed it against the headrest of the bed his entire head got sucked up in the deep black abyss, remaining inside for several seconds. She could feel as her husband was moving his face inside her cleavage, rubbing it against the swelling roundings surrounding him. The young blonde gulped, but in a pleased way, pressing her bust with more strength against the headrest and making his head sink deeper inside. After a while his hands pressed into her flesh, his palms and fingers leaving deep imprints in her curves. She pulled her breasts back down his chest, freeing his head from the grip of her cleavage. His face stayed close to the slopes of her cleavage though, cuddling the left one with his cheek.

“Hmmm, warm…”, he murmured, closing his eyes as he rubbed his face over her curves. Simultaneously he let his hands wander to the sides as her bust, reaching around as far as he could. Stroking the round swells of her bosom he could feel as it was bulging outwards, her breasts becoming bigger than car tires. Steadily she ascended as more flesh pressed against his body, being pushed back by the growing globes. Pulling his head back from her cleavage he looked over the ascents of her breasts, seeing them reach up and arch towards him. His hands moved towards the front of her assets, his palms running in circles over them as they gradually shifted up and pointed at the headrest behind him. “This isn’t a dream, is it?”, he casually asked, as if he didn’t care about the answer.

“Nope”, his wife gently replied, putting her head back until she stared up at the ceiling. Feeling her husband caressing her growing rack she closed her eyes. “It’s every bit as real as you want it to be.” Her gown meanwhile continued to rip apart, the tip of her cleavage approaching the tear on the bottom of her bosom. While the fabric that was keeping her two cleavages separated steadily split apart the holes around the rest of her bust also extended, widening under the flaring slopes as they bulged outwards. Reaching out the flesh of her breasts was steadily lapping over the body of her husband, flowing onto the mattress. As they expanded Britney was bit by bit sitting up, her back straightening and her raised butt lowering towards the lap of her husband while the undersides of her spheres were sliding towards his chest. The backside of her bust spread out over her body, pressing against her belly. The two tears that flanked Britney’ bosom grew as well, each being larger than an average plate. Between the rip on the lowest point and on the side of her right breast another rift was torn into the fabric. Each tip of the oval hole pointed towards one of the tears, slowly approaching them as her breast forced it to widen over its swelling curvature. It didn’t take long before a symmetrical tear appeared on her left breast, alongside one more located at its front side. Another two rips formed left and right on the border of her cleavages, looking like eyes on her bosom, followed by one on the backside of her right breast, next to Britney’s lowest rips.

While her bust continued to widen the gaps in her dress the forward-flowing flesh flared further against the chest of her husband, spreading over his body. His chin was more and more enveloped while the bottom of her bosom rolled down his belly, pushing Britney back. Steadily her knees were dragged over the mattress, pulling the blanket along. At the same time her butt was sinking on his lap while her skirt continued to glide up, rising over the equator of her rear. As the fabric was wrapped around her curves it also began to grow weak over her back, getting steadily brighter. In the middle of her back a white line appeared on her gown, the pressure destroying the stability of her dress. With a loud rip the fabric tore at that line, splitting in two halves from the upper rim of the dress to the butt. Britney gasped loudly, straightening up as far as she could – which wasn’t very much for the weight of her breasts practically tied her to the chest of her husband and forced her to lean forward. As the backside of her dress had torn apart her bust spread out to the sides, the pressure around them decreasing. Wide wobbles shook her flesh, jiggling like a pudding in several directions. The rips on the flanks and bottoms extended while the fabric separating her two cleavages and the two rips surrounding them broke apart. As they united into one giant cleavage going from the top to the bottom of her chest the sides of her gown slid over the front of her breasts and expanded her V-neck, only small corners of fabric hiding their intimate parts.

Her husband looked up at the enormous mounds bouncing on top of him, especially at the black line between them. “What marvellous cleavage”, he mumbled, moving his hands softly over the swaying slopes towards the darkness they formed in the middle. His fingers were engulfed by comfortable warmth as he stuck them inside, the pressure increasing and decreasing around them as the mammary meat surrounding still vibrated a little. He leaned a little further forward, pressing his head gently against her curves, before he dropped it back on the pillow behind him. “I wonder how it is like in there – with the entire body, I mean, not just the face.”

Britney looked down on her husband’s head, only his forehead not covered by the roundings of her bust, and giggled. “I think they’re still a little to small for that - yet”, she teased. Her arms glided over her curves until they were lying on top of her them. With her fingers Britney started tapping on them, shyly lowering her glance so she stared right at the ascending bulges of her bosom. “But while you’re waiting… how about you put your little Willy in there as a start?”, she offered, squeaking like a mouse.

Though she couldn’t see it he looked with quite wide eyes up towards where he guessed her face. “Is that really okay for you?”, he asked.

Britney’ cheeks were burning bright red, but she smiled. “If you really want to”, she murmured, uncomfortably rubbing the walls of her cleavage. “I… I actually think… if you put the little guy in there, and let my flesh slowly embrace him, squeeze him between my bulging boobs, it would probably feel rather… interesting.”

At first he was quiet. Her breasts silently flared out further outwards, making no sound except for the stretching noise of the fabric. “All right then”, he suddenly replied, grinning widely under her bosom that was starting to swell over his lower face. “You asked for it.” Slowly her husband moved his hands over her breasts. Slight excitement built up inside Britney as he moved them towards his little Willy, grinning dully as he grabbed the small beast – and picked up the grey teddy-bear from the night desk to put it into his wife’s cleavage.

Britney giggled as the furry animal was placed between her orbs, near the middle of her cleavage. “There you go, mister”, she chuckled, moving her hands over the top of her bust and stroking its sides as the teddy was gently embraced by the vaulting sides of her cleavage. It seemed like the teddy was sinking deeper as the curves around it bulged forward, growing around it and seemingly swallowing it. As it was enveloped by her endowments Britney felt the little hairs of Little Willy softly caressing the swelling arches of her bosom. Sharply she breathed in through her teeth while her body was shivering slightly, her hands wrapping her flesh around them as she strongly grabbed her firm buns. Though he couldn’t see any of this her husband heard as Britney inhaled, felt the shivers of her body going through her bust to him and saw the fabric on the sides slightly deforming as she tightly groped herself. His attention was still mainly drawn however to the fact a pair of breasts with the diameter of hulas was resting on top of him, getting bigger by the second. Bit by bit his teddy vanished inside the surrounding cleavage, sinking with his body and arms into the deep canyon until only its little head poked out, and even that steadily got “eaten” by Britney’s rack.

“I don’t think Little Willy ever had it so comfortable”, he stated, monotonous and reserved as ever. His little sight on the ceiling was diminishing as the top of her meat buns was almost pressing against the headrest, covering him more and more in shadow. While Britney slowly slid down his legs he could see another large tear appearing on the flimsily cover her gown still provided, being barely able to cover the sides of her charms. Despite this they somehow managed to keep them from splaying out, compressing her bust on the sides and making it protrude more towards the top. One by one more tears appeared all around her breasts, especially on their flanks. The holes were tiny, but they were forming a pattern that resembled the holes of a Swiss cheese. Her firm meat tried to squeeze through them, giving her smooth globes a slightly rough surface. As the dispersing areas of the fabric spread out over the sides of her gown, reaching around her curves the form of her assets was steadily losing its cramped appearance. Spreading out to fully round spheres Britney felt her body being pushed backwards a little faster as her bosom pressed with rising strength against her lover and the bed, her knees sliding swiftly over the blanket and her butt over his thighs.

While she was pushed backwards and her body was pushed up continuously more of her bum got revealed, the hem of her skirt nearly reaching her waist. Suddenly her dress fell back towards the middle of her cheeks as the remnants of fabric around her chest burst apart. Feeling her curves bulging out towards the sides Britney moaned while little pieces of blue confetti flew through the air, landing all around her breasts and on her husband. Great wobbles ran over her giant globes, each jiggling and shaking like a gelatinous mass of goo into every direction. Rocking forth and back as well as up and down and left and right they constantly hit her husband who was clearly feeling every single quake on his body. Her breasts weren’t just filling out his chest but also the majority of his belly. As they calmed down he began to move his hands again, stroking his wife’s fantastically flaring bosom. “One day you owe me an explanation for this”, he murmured, his voice dry as he ran his hands over the smooth skin of Britney’s bombastic bust. Suddenly he threw his head into the gaping cleavage in front of him, pressing his face against the slopes of flesh. “But now all I wanna do is cuddle those meat bags”, he muffled from between her globes, feeling utter satisfaction as his head was embraced by the swelling mass.

Britney giggled. Slowly her chuckle was turning into a moan as her husband rubbed his head over the inner curves of her breasts, which in return pressed back as their surface spread out beneath his face. She could feel as he leaned up and steadily pressed his body deeper in between her assets, spreading her cleavage a little apart as he dived into it. None of them noticed as Little Willy felt out due to her husband bending her curves, falling on the pillow where his head had just rested. After a few seconds however the teddy was overflown by her mountainous mounds as they filled out the entire space between Britney’s body and the headrest. Britney’s butt and knees were on height with her husband’s knees by then and she was still sliding backwards, even faster as her globes pressed with rising strength against the wall and headrest. The sheer size made Britney sit completely straight as her breasts pushed her up, their backside squeezing against her thighs, belly and face. The sides of her rack were steadily rolling over their king-sized bed, one starting to lap over the mattress into the free air. Ascending gradually further towards the ceiling her bosom was almost as tall as her body, towering over her head. While her husband let himself get smothered inside her cleavage Britney reached her arms out as far around her curves as possible. She barely reached a quarter around her huge bean bag chairs, only able to touch the parts of her bust bulging behind her. As good as she could she pressed her body against her ginormous assets, her head sinking into her cleavage while her body pressed deep dents into her curves. Her hands firmly grabbed her firm meat again. With a pleased smile Britney enjoyed groping her flaring flesh, her cleavage being split wider by her husband sitting inside it, her bosom flowing over the mattress and through the air while pressing against the wall and pushing her back, the top of her breasts ascending and the curves on  all ends cambering. Closing her eyes she sighed in satisfaction, pressing her head further into her cleavage as she dived completely into the growth.

After a while her butt slid steadily slower down the legs of her husband. As the cheeks pressed gently against his feet, their curves almost matching perfectly the expansion of her assets considerably slowed down. Their tops and sides, out of her sight even if she looked up or to the side rose higher respectively bulged over the mattress and beyond it with decreasing speed while the pressure of her cleavage around her husband and the front of her spheres on the headrest weren’t increasing as fast anymore. As their diameter exceeded the height of her body the swelling in her curves eventually dropped completely. Britney sighed deeply, a great smile spread across her face. Still leaning against her bust she softly cuddled it with every part of her body. Between her mammary giants she felt her husband was also caressing her with full use of his physical strength. After a while Britney pushed herself back from her gargantuan globes, putting as much distance between the colossi protruding from her chest and her head as possible. Even like this though all she saw was cleavage and skin when looking forward. Only as she raised her head up to the neck she vaguely could spot the ceiling past the vast horizon of her bosom. It was huge. Enormous. Ginormous! Beyond any reason her breasts had blown up into horrendous dimensions, far above anything a genetic disorder could cause a woman to grow into. The blush on her face deepened a little as she saw what she had done, what she had become. But instead of worrying about how she could live the rest of her life like this another thought was troubling her mind: She had bested most women from the pictures her husband had gathered, including the cyan-haired woman and the brunette cowgirl - however, she was still smaller than the blonde’s whale breasts...

Her long hair brushed against the curves of her bust as she turned her head towards the computer. She could only barely see the screen past her bosom, but as far as she could tell the window was still there, with the full blue bar and the two buttons in the bottom corner. Britney stretched out her leg towards the desk, putting her foot on the mouse – she wasn’t quite a snake woman, but flexible enough to bend her joints like this, even in this rather unusual state of her body. Beneath her butt she could suddenly feel the legs of her husband move, pulling his feet out from under it. Slowly she felt him standing up inside her cleavage, climbing up the walls of flesh surrounding him until his head poked out on top. Britney raised her glance, smiling at her husband’s head that looked out from between her giant globes. “Will you always take care of me?”, she asked. “Will you love me with all you have, share every joy and every hardship in my life?”

The man in her cleavage looked over the slopes around him, stared down the bulged of her breasts. “No”, he said dryly, with a completely emotionless look on his face. The monotonous expression was suddenly destroyed by a bright smile. “I will share everything we endure in our life.”

The maximum amount of blood flowed into Britney’s cheeks. Looking at the screen she moved the cursor of the mouse towards the Extend bar-button. A soft “click” sounded through the bedroom as she pressed the left mouse button, cutting the blue bar in halve. Another click and it was a quarter. Than an eighth. Sixteenth. The individual clicks of the mouse turned into a blur as she pressed her big toe over and over she against the left mouse button, almost breaking as she frantically clicked on it. The blue bar quickly diminished until it was invisible, shrinking below measurable dimensions. Click, click, clickclickclick – it was not a very pleasant melody, but one the man lying between Britney’s massive mammaries soon got to enjoy, the more the longer it continued. One minute, two minutes, three minutes – the usually stoic man unbelievingly looked down at his wife’s face, even though he mainly saw evenly curved breast flesh and a tight chasm in between. The more she clicked the further Britney’s own excitement increased as well, her smile growing wider and wider.

After ten minutes of abusing the left mouse button she finally stopped. Panting slightly Britney looked at the screen, the bar in the window seeming completely empty. After a while she moved the cursor with her foot to the other button. One more time Britney looked over her breasts, stared at their buoyant curves, their incredible roundness, their smooth skin, their even slopes, their firm shape, their unbelieving size. After admiring it she looked up towards her husband’s face, the two lovers smiling at each other.

With a kinky smirk Britney clicked on Increase bust size.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sun was shining brightly, casting its warm light down on the town. Britney’s husband looked upwards at the birds drawing circles in the clear summer sky – which meant ten meter above him. “So you quit your job?”, the voice of a man asked next to him.

He nodded. “Yeah”, he replied to his friend. With their legs spread out from their bodies the two of them sat on a skin-coloured surface, their bodies pressing slightly into the “ground” beneath them. Though it wasn’t steep their underground had a slight curvature, falling into even slopes to all sides as they sat pretty much on the absolute top. “Taking care of Britney is pretty much a full-time job already.”

“Then how do you get money?”, his friend continued to ask while his gaze went towards the TV tower on the horizon, only its peak looking out beyond the rim of the curves.

Britney’s husband pointed upwards. “See that helicopter that’s circling around us all the time?”, he asked, pointing at the large flying machine a few hundred meters above them. “It provides live-footage to a website. You can watch Britney there 24 hours each day for a small fee. We’ve made a deal we get 25% of the income for the right to film her.”

“And that’s enough to make a living?”

“The provider of the site made a million after the first week of airing”, he told him. “And the number of subscriptions is still doubling every few days. We’ll probably have more cash by the end of the month than we can hope to spend in the next ten years.”

“Speaking about websites… you said this all was because Britney found an obscure link on google?”

“Yeah.”

His friend cleared his throat. “So-“

“It wasn’t there anymore when I checked”, he informed him. “Guess my honey busted their server.”

“You know the only reason those puns sound funny from your mouth is because you present them so dryly?”

“You always say that.” The pocket of his pants suddenly vibrated. He pulled out his cell phone, looking at the number on the display. “Britney calls. Gotta go.” His body squeezed an a little deeper dent as he stood up from his soft seat. “Feel free to stay as long as you want. Just call me and I’ll lead you down. Don’t try to leave on your own though, you can quickly break your neck from this height.”

His friend simply fell on his back, his torso bopping up and down as it hit the slightly vaulted surface of skin. “No need to worry”, he sighed, moving his arms as if he was trying to make a snow angel. “I’ll probably stay until you kick me out – or until my girlfriend wonders where I am.”

While his companion enjoyed himself a little Britney’s husband began to march over the bright slopes. As he walked over the wide fields the slant bit by bit increased, his feet having increasingly trouble to hold on to the surface beneath them. Eventually he reached a point at which he simply sat down again, and with a small push of his hands slowly began to slide down. The further he slid down the curve of flesh the steeper the descent became, and he steadily picked up speed. Just as he was about to reach the vertical steep he put his right hand on the smooth skin below him, steering his body towards the deep chasm a few feet next to him. The underground he surfed on became darker as the shadow of another sphere like the one he sat on lapped over it, his body getting gradually closer to it. As the surface beneath him became too steep to sit on he let himself fall into the deep abyss in between the two giant orbs. His legs scratched over the vaulted walls, his body eventually getting stuck at the waist between the giant mounds of flesh. Being deep inside the cleavage he couldn’t see much of the sun anymore, only dim light enlightening his environment. As if he had done it a million times before he pressed his hands against the curves surrounding, and manoeuvred his body forward by moving his legs and arms to give him a forward momentum. Surprisingly fast he safely climbed down the leftover distance towards the ground, the light shining in from the top of the canyon steadily increasing.

Eventually his upper-body emerged from the cavernous cleavage. He still was several feet a above the ground, just at the height of the roof of their house that was standing ten meters in front of him. Lowering his glance he saw a blond woman standing at the bottom of the spheres he rested in between, the colossi of flesh jutting out from her body. As she could feel him coming closer, carefully climbing down the last meters in her cleavage she raised her head, smiling with shining teeth at him. “Hey honey!”, Britney greeted her husband as he was only a head above him. She felt his feet and hands pressing against her breasts as he pushed into them, before he jumped out of her cleavage. His wife giggled as he made a summersault behind her, landing on the lawn. “You’re sure you don’t need a latter?”, she asked, turning her head around to him as far as she could with her mountainous mammaries on her front.

Her husband brushed off the dirt from his clothes. “Maybe when I’m older”, he monotonously replied before turning around to his wife. She didn’t wear any clothes, except for a pair of white panties around her butt. Of course it wasn’t the same pair she wore on that night, for he regularly changed and washed them. “And you sure you don’t freeze like this?”, he asked her back.

“It’s okay”, she assured him. The flesh around her little body dented slightly as she pressed herself against it, slightly sinking into her cleavage while she spread out her arms over her curves as far as she could reach - which was probably less than one per mille of her bust. “Whenever I feel cold I just lean a little bit forward, and everything’s warm and fuzzy again”, she murmured, pressing her arms as deeply into her firm flesh as possible. While she cuddled her bosom she could hear her husband walking towards her, the young woman humming as he put his hands on her shoulders and massaged them.

“So, anything specific you want?”, he asked, his hands slowly moving from her shoulders down her back towards her hips. He pressed his arms into the tight gap between her breasts and her belly, rubbing over her tummy while pressing his body against her back and kissing her neck. Britney put her head back slightly while pushing herself a little further into the softly curved walls of flesh in front of her. “Or did you just miss me?”, he whispered into her ear.

She enjoyed his caressing for a minute, letting his hands wander from her belly to the huge roundings of her rack. Despite the massiveness of her bosom she could feel clearly as his hands moved over their slopes, just as much as she could feel his friend rubbing his body over her on top and almost every single insect crawling over huge bust. Insects and some cocky teenagers. “I’m feeling a bit hungry”, she eventually told him. “A small snack might not hurt – nothing big, just to fill my stomach.”

After kissing and cuddling her a bit longer he pulled his head back a little, his hands wandering from her breasts back to her hips. “Are a dozen sandwiches with beef, salad and tomatoes okay for the start?”, he asked.

Britney chuckled amused. “Well you can make at least fifty - it’s not like I’m on a diet. Oh, and put cheese on them! Lots of cheese!”

“No problem”, her husband told her, giving her a few more kisses and softly stroking her butt a bit before he slowly pulled his body back. “Anything else you want?”, he asked her. Britney looked like she wanted to say something, but hesitated. “Come on, spit it out!”

The bust miracle turned her head away from him, looking straight into her cleavage. “Well”, she began after a while, her husband seeing her cheeks were starting to turn red. “You remember how you said you would want to satisfy any fantasy your dream woman had?” She made a pause, nervously tapping with her fingers on her bosom, before she shyly smiled at him. “I never told you but… there are actually a few things I’ve picked up in the internet that… I’d like to try out.” Her blush grew even darker as she murmured: “At least those that are still anatomically possible.”

Her husband laughed softly. “And you complained about me keeping my big boob love a secret from you!” Taking a step back he bowed behind her. “It’ll be my pleasure to make any fantasy of yours come true – after all, you already did the same for me.” With a pleased smirk he turned around, walking towards their house to prepare the sandwiches.

As she heard him close the door behind him Britney turned her glance back towards her bust. Gently the bright ascents of her globes squeezed together in her cleavage, though gently had to be taken relatively for their tremendous size. Her arms rubbed up and down over the sides of her cleavage, Britney smiling as she softly stroke her curves. “So, I’m a mountain of meat bound to one place for the rest of my life, dependent on a single man taking care of me”, she summed her situation up. Raising a leg she pressed knee into her flesh, while letting her whole body sink in her cleavage again. With closed eyes she pressed her cheek against her bosom, still blushing slightly as she cuddled herself. “And I’m gonna enjoy every second of it”, she mumbled, smiling brighter than ever.

Meanwhile the helicopter above her ascended. Several hundred meters above the ground it made a full-scale shot of the gargantuan breasts, each covering an area as large as a football stadium while remaining as firm and stout as a soccer ball. Around them one could see some of the ruins of the houses they had eradicated in their growth – of course each had been evacuated before the giant swells of flesh had flown over and broken them. As the smooth surface of her slopes shined in the sun the helicopter filmed every detail of them, footage viewed by millions of people all over the world.