"WE'RE a bit short of milk," said Mrs Smith. The girls were having Sunday breakfast. "One of you can nip down the shop and pick up a bottle. I don't know where it all went to."
    "You shouldn't make rice pudding," Pandora advised her. "Everybody hates it."
    "It's good for you. Besides, it's easy. Anyway, it's a good job Mrs Jones was in. She lent us some."
    Betsy had reached for the jug. She stopped. "You borrowed that milk from Mrs Jones? That milk in the jug?"
    "Yes. She didn't have a bottle in her fridge, but she topped up our little jug from her big one."
    "There's lots of big jugs next door," Tina muttered under her breath.
    "I'll have mine black," said Betsy, stirring her coffee.
    "Don't be silly, dear. We've got plenty for breakfast, and Pandora's going to fetch some more."
    "I'll still have it black."
    "She must have been drunk last night," said Zara.
    "Shut up, you! Where were you last night, anyway?"
    "Down the green with Angharad. I thought I'd introduce her to the posse."
    "That's nice, dear."
    "Who was down there?" Tina asked.
    Zara peered at Betsy out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, the usual gang. And Winston Junior and Gavin and Ollie..."
    Betsy took the bait. "What were they doing, hanging round with a bunch of young kids?"
    "They're a good laugh."
    "Did you get off with them?" Tina joined in the game, her voice hushed with awe.
    "Not all three!"
    "Which ones?" asked Pandora innocently. "I fancy Gavin. He's got nice hair."
    "I like Winston," said Tina.
    "I was talking to Ollie most of the time," said Zara.
    "Talking?" The two younger ones hugged each other and giggled. Zara feared they were overdoing the act a little.
    "Which one do you fancy, Bets?"
    "None of them. They're so immature."
    "Just as well. Angharad made a big impression with them. Huge, in fact. Winston said she's got even bigger tits than Tina." Tina blushed.
    "That's enough of that language, Zara," said their mother sternly. "If you've finished, Pandora, run down the shop. Four pints ought to be enough."
    "Can I take Sian? Show her where the shop is?"
    "Taking Sian to a shop that sells milk is like taking coals to Newcastle," Tina muttered again.
    Betsy stood up abruptly. "You children are such babies! I'm going to sit outside."
    "Bye bye, big sister!"
    "You two, upstairs and tidy your rooms. Pandora, here's the money. And don't forget the change."
    Tina and Zara bounced upstairs together. "She really fell for it," Tina proclaimed. "You wound her up great!"
    "I wasn't winding her up. Come in here a minute." Zara pulled the bosomy blonde into her room. "Look!" She fished in her purse.
    "Wow! You've got a packet of those!"
    "I need them."
    "You mean ... Zara!"
    "Don't tell Mum!"
    "Where did you get them?"
    "You won't tell Mum, will you?"
    "No. Where did they come from? If they're Betsy's, she'll kill you."
    "They're mine. Angharad gave them to me. She's got a great big box-full."
    "Can I have a packet?"
    "Tina! What for? You're only twelve!"
    "I've got bigger tits than you."
    "So what? You haven't got a boyfriend." Zara's voice fell to a whisper. "Angharad fucked Winston behind the bus shelter!"
    "No shit!"
    "Don't tell anybody!"
    "Winston Junior! Wow! How big's his..."
    "I didn't see it." Zara blushed. "I was with Ollie."
    "With him? You mean you were...?"
    "I promised I wouldn't tell."
    "How big's his..."
    "Never mind, Tina! You're obsessed with the size of things."
    "Not everything. Just tits and boys' thingies. Could I come down there one night with you?"
    "Tina, you're not even thirteen yet!"
    "So what? Laura Lambourne's only thirteen and a quarter and she does it. She's even got a boyfriend. I could do it, my tits are ten times as big as hers."
    "Not yet. Wait 'til you're old enough. Wait 'til you're fourteen."
    "But you're not even..."

"What are you buying milk for, Panda?"
    Sian bounced along beside Pandora, down the hill to the village shop.
    "'Cos we've run out."
    "We never run out of milk. What do you do with all yours?"
    "Just the usual..."
    "No, I mean yours. Don't you give milk? Don't any of your sisters give milk?"
    "Milk? Of course not. We're girls, not cows."
    "I'm not a cow. Nor's Keri. The other two don't give milk. But me an' Keri have got so much between us, Mam says we could feed the army. That'd be nice, I always think. All those men sucking at your tits..."
    "You mean, milk comes out of those...?" Pandora pointed at the bobbling mounds inside Sian's T-shirt.
    "Where'd you expect it to come of?" A thoughtful expression came over the girl's face. "Can we hurry? I need to go to the toilet again. Urgent!"
    "Again? You were in there when I called for you."
    "That was a piss. This is a serious Number Two."
    They hurried on down the hill, conversation slackening. "This is the shop," said Pandora.
    "I'd better wait outside in case I fart," Sian had a pained expression. "And I daren't stand still for too long." She walked quickly round in a circle.
    "We'll make it back home okay, won't we?"
    "I hope so! Tell you what. I'll start walking back up. You can catch up with me."
    She was halfway up the road when Pandora came out of the shop lugging her half-gallon bottle. It took a while to catch up, despite Sian's short little legs. She took rapid strides, her bust bouncing massively.
    "Don't you wear a bra?"
    "Usually. Only it got wet last night, so Mam's washed it."
    "You've only got one?"
    "Of course!""
    "I've got three of Tina's old ones. They nearly fit. They ought to be 30's, but Tina's were 32D. They're okay in the cups but they're too big around. That's why I keep coming out of the bottom." Pandora had to stop, put down her milk bottle and tuck herself in again. Sian watched with semi-professional interest.
    "I dunno my size. Mam just gets them made for us." Pandora looked at the short girl's breasts, jostling for position inside her shirt. They were very round and fat, and the ends were big and pointed, making dusky brown shadows through the white material.
    "They enormous, Sian."
    "I know. They're loads bigger when the milk's in."
    "Bigger than they are now?" It seemed unlikely, somehow.
    "Yeah."
    "How much bigger?"
    "Dunno. Four or five inches. I never measured them. A lot, though. They squeeze right out of my bra, right up here, and round the sides. An' the milk come out in great big spurts!"
    "Wow! I wish I could see!"
    They had arrived at the Jones house. Sian was already scampering urgently indoors. "It won't take me so long this time. Take your milk home then call for me. We can explore some more. You've got to show me round. And maybe I can show you something later!"

Zara lay on her back with her hands behind her head. She rubbed her knees together, closing her eyes and remembering last night. Angharad had promised to get her laid before Tuesday. She'd nearly done it last night, but Ollie had been a bit funny. He'd kept reminding her she wasn't even fourteen yet. It hadn't stopped Winston Junior having his way with her friend. She'd described it all the way home. 'Don't worry, kiddo,' she had said, punching her not too gently on the shoulder. 'Tomorrow night!' This had surprised Zara, who hadn't made any arrangements. 'Gavin fancies you,' Angharad had whispered. 'I told him not to worry, and I'd arrange things.'
    "What are you thinking about?" Tina asked. She was playing with her big tits in front of the mirror. Zara was unnaturally quiet. "You're thinking about boys. And sex. Ollie!"
    "Not Ollie," Zara whispered. "Gavin."
    "Gavin Mockridge?"
    "Shhh! Don't shout!"
    "I'm not shouting. Gavin Mockridge? Pandora fancies him."
    "I know. And don't tell her, but he says she's got the best bum in the whole school." Zara smiled to herself as she watched Tina bite her lip and touch herself at this casual insight into the mind of men. "But Angharad says he wouldn't do it with her. I'm seeing him tonight!"
    "Jeez, Sis!" Tina squeezed herself hard, taking a big handful of yielding crotch. Her breasts felt suddenly full and her insides were all gooey. "Is she gonna do Winston again?" she asked wistfully.
    "She doesn't know. He's ... well..."
    "I fancy him," said Tina, chewing her lip.
    "He's a bit ... big, Tee!"
    "You mean, his thingie?"
    "Angharad said she's had big ones before, but he nearly split her in half."
    "Wow!" Tina was almost sick with lust. She had to lean on the corner of the dressing table, hard. She'd never felt anything like this before. She began edging towards the door. Zara's eyes were tight shut again, and she only had one hand behind her head now. "Think I'll go and lie down for a bit, Sis..."

Tina had no sooner lain down on her bed — or so it seemed — than there was a gentle knock on the door. She rolled over on to her back and arranged the sheet over her loins, tossing her jeans on the floor out of sight. "Who is it?"
    "It's me."
    "Come in."
    Betsy looked uncomfortable. She prowled up and down before perching on the corner of the bed. "Are they really as big as Zara said?"
    "Big?"
    "The girls next door, of course!"
    Tina sat up, her breasts wobbling full and heavy in her unhooked bra. "I only saw two of them, and one of those was wrapped in a towel. You ought to ask Zara. She saw them all."
    "How big was the other one?"
    "It doesn't matter, Bets!"
    "It does! How big was the oldest one?"
    "Keri? She'd got her tits out on the kitchen worktop. She had this little milking machine hooked up to them."
    "A machine?"
    "How did you think they'd milk her?"
    "I dunno. How big were they?"
    "Big, like a couple of bags of dog food."
    "Dog food? Why dog food?"
    "It's all I could think of that was the right size. You know those big bags in Tesco's, like this?"
    "Big as that?"
    "About twice as big as yours, yeah."
    "Oh, shit..." Betsy stood up and went to the door. "They'll all be at school tomorrow. It's all over. Finished."

Zara was puzzled. She lay on her bed and looked curiously up at her eldest sister. "What's finished, Bets?"
    "Everything. I'm not the biggest any more. It was all any of the boys saw in me, my big tits. Now they've got girls with bigger ones than me. Not just bigger, twice as big! As big as bags of Pedigree Chum." Tears rolled down her face and she dashed them away savagely with a fist as she turned to go.
    "The size doesn't matter, Bets. Look at mine. They're big — very big for nearly fourteen — but not as big as yours or even young Tina's. It doesn't stop the boys coming on to me. As long as I come on to them."
    "Did you do anything last night?"
    "No. but I could've done, easy. Angharad did. I just picked the wrong boy. I'll get the right one tonight."
    "Tonight? You're going down there again tonight?"
    "Yeah. Why not?"
    Betsy seemed to be on the point of asking something, then she changed her mind, or her nerve failed her. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, then she turned round and went out.
    Strange girl, Zara thought. Then she turned over on to her tummy again, and tried to do it.

Mrs Jones took a seat in the kitchen, crossed her deliciously shapely legs and accepted a cup of tea. "There was something I wanted to ask yew," she said.
    "Fire away," said Mrs Smith. "Milk? Oh dear, I still owe you a pint of milk from this morning..."
    "Oh, don't worry 'bout that. We got milk comin' out of our ears. We'll not our ears, exactly, but you know what I mean."
    "I'll send one of the girls round with some later," Mrs Smith was anxious to keep the relationship on a sound footing.
    "If you insist. Look, I can't keep calling you Mrs Smith. I'm Gwladys."
    "I'm Sarah. Gladys?"
    "Near enough. Gwladys. It's like got an extra 'w'. No, but what I wanted to ask you. Where do you get your bras from round yer?"
    "Bras?" Mrs Smith's jaw dropped. She couldn't help comparing her own almost featureless shirt with her new neighbour's extravagantly overloaded pink crop top. It was teamed with matching shorts. And here she'd thought Welsh people believed in observing the Sabbath and keeping it holy.
    "Look, don't think I'm being impertinent or nothin', but the girls an' me, we can't just buy a bra in a shop, like. And seein' as 'ow a couple of your girls are a bit big up top, I wondered where you got their bras from, see?"
    "Oh, I see. It's not easy. Betsy's too big for anything you can buy in an ordinary shop, but we've found a little place that does made to measure. Expensive, though. The good thing is that she keeps a small stock of funny sizes, and she can fit Betsy with one of those. A 34J, she wears."
    "Now there's a coincidence, isn't it? Same as I used to wear, 'til last year, like. I got loads of sexy bras that don't fit me no more. She'd be welcome, any time. You send 'er round..."
    "That's very kind. In fact, I was going to say, young Tina's going to be the one with the problem. She's not as ... you know ... big around as Betsy, but her ... you know...? They're nearly as big."
    "Her tits, you mean. Yeah, I noticed. I bet we could find somethin' to fit her, no problem. My lot, they hand their bras down to whichever girl fits them, but there's always one at the end of the food chain, as it were. But they all need made to measure. So this little place of yours might come in 'andy. What's it called?"
    "Discoveries. Sounds more like a travel agent, I always reckon. I'm going into town tomorrow. If you're free, I could show you where it is. It takes a bit of finding, not being very big and everything."
    "That'd be nice. Thanks! Do they do nursing bras, too?"
    "Nursing? You mean maternity? But you're not..." Mrs Smith stopped, confused, trying not to stare at Mrs Jones' exposed, slender, baby-free tummy. "One of the girls is...?"
    "Not pregnant! Lordy no! But I got two of them givin' milk."
    "Milk?"
    "Oldest and the youngest. Doctor never 'ad no idea why. Maybe the new doctor we got round yer'll 'ave a bit more of a clue. Our last one was a woman, but I think this one's a man. Pity, but I always says yew can't have everything, can yew? Anyway, Keri and Sian are both milkin'. Bloody gallons of it, both of 'em! I never seen so much milk. Bloody gushes out, it do! So they needs big bras, see, but they needs to be able to get their nips out without undressin', like?"
    "What do you do with it? Take it to the hospital?"
    "What, the milk? Duw, I always tells the girls we ought to have a lorry come round an' collect it every mornin'; one of them big tankers. No, we drinks it instead, isn't it?"
    "You mean that pint I borrowed...?"
    "No, that was some cow's milk I got from the garage before the girls arrived. Usually, we just mix it fifty-fifty and use it instead of ordinary milk. Tell you what, Sarah, I don't fancy ordinary milk no more. Not now I've got used to the real thing." She stood up. "I'd better be gettin' back. What time you goin' into town tomorrow, then?"
    "Morning okay with you? As soon as the girls have gone off to school and the traffic's died down. About ten?"
    "Ten it is. We can use my car. It's got to be easier to park than your monster."

Pandora couldn't contain herself any longer. "What were you going to show me?"
    Sian giggled. "Oh, nothing much. Just my tits."
    "Wow! Out here?"
    "Nobody about, is there?"
    "Yeah, but this is the main road. Buses come along here."
    "S'okay. We can go in this field. Nobody will see. But you've got to wait. Nothing's happening yet."
    "Happening?" asked Pandora, mystified.
    "We've got to wait 'til the milk comes in."
    "You mean they're gonna get bigger than they are now?" She had a strange feeling in her tummy, talking like this.
    Sian looked down at her chest, then cupped both hands and held them two or three inches in front of her already wondrous bust. She thought about it and doubled the distance. "More like out here. Maybe a bit more. Like this big."
    "Wow, Sian! That's monster!" Sian's hands were now about eight inches in front of her turgid nipples, which in turn were already five or six inches ahead of her chest. She had to be exaggerating, but that didn't stop Pandora's insides fluttering like sparrows' wings.
    "It don't stay like it long. Just until the milk's gone. 'Bout half an hour, that's all."
    "How often?"
    "Four times a day, summat like that." A haunted expression crossed her little face. "Uh, oh. I think it's starting."
    "You're not having a poo again?"
    "No, the milk. Come through into the field."
    "But there's cows in there!"
    "Cows won't hurt you. Come on!"
    Pandora had to follow the compact but remarkably buxom figure over the gate and into the field. Already, Sian was sitting on a grassy mound, feeling her breasts with both hands.
    "They're getting bigger, see?"
    They were, too! Pandora bit her lip and watched. "Can I touch?"
    "You can do better than that," said Sian, suddenly tugging the back of her T-shirt up over her head. By the time she unsnagged it from her hair and plucked it away from her chest, she was giggling happily. "Wow, they're really growing now. Look at them!"
    It was hard to work out how much they had grown, as Pandora had never seen them naked before. All she knew was that they were so much bigger than even Betsy's that it didn't seem possible that they were real. "They're huge, Sian!"
    "They're not finished yet. Feel..." Pandora placed a nervous hand on the taut surface, avoiding the enormous dark brown nipple and its saucer-like surround. "They're getting tighter, but they've still got a long way to go..."
    "The cows are coming, Sian!"
    "Never mind them, Panda. They're just curious, that's all."
    Curious, perhaps, Pandora thought, but cows were far bigger than her. Half a dozen of them had gathered to watch the two children who had come to play in their field. They stood in a patient circle, chewing noisily.
    "They want milking, too, Panda. They'll be able to watch you milking me. They'll get jealous."
    She was right. Sian was now big enough to make a dairy cow jealous. Her breasts jutted massively from her rib cage, quivering but not bouncing any more. They were far too taut to bounce.
    "Suck the nipple."
    "Which one?"
    "Either. They're both full of milk now. Taste it."
    Pandora tried it. She wrapped her lips round a thumb-sized spigot, teased it with her tongue, then tasted the gushing, flooding juice.
    "Woooh, Panda! Don't stop!"
    Hurriedly, Pandora took the nipple into her mouth again. Sian's eyes were screwed shut, her mouth was open, panting, making little mewling noises. The cows watched appreciatively. They seemed to be learning from the experience. Pandora — on her hands and knees, her only point of contact with Sian her mouth and her friend's nipple — drank the lot, every last drop.
    "You did that nice," said Sian as they walked home.
    Pandora wished she hadn't drunk it all. She felt full up. She wasn't going to want any supper after all that milk.

"I'm off out, Mum," Zara shouted up the stairs.
    "Don't be late. It's school tomorrow."
    "As if I'd forget. Just going down the village with Angharad."
    "That's nice, dear. Isn't Betsy going with you?"
    Zara was halfway out of the door. She didn't want her mother to see her looking like this. "Betsy? No. Why?"
    "She wasn't looking very happy. She ought to get out more." Mrs Smith stared blankly at her disappearing daughter. "You're wearing a skirt?"
    Zara blushed and escaped another six inches further. "Angharad's wearing a skirt, too."
    "As long as you don't catch cold..."
    She felt as if she might catch cold in her bum. Even Angharad goggled at her when she emerged from next door and joined her on the footpath. "Wow, Zar," she said. "And I thought my skirt was short!"
    "I must be taller than I was when I got it. It's not rude, is it?"
    Angharad cackled. "No. Pull it down a bit. That's better. Now we can't see your pants."
    Zara was horrified. "You can't see my pants, can you?"
    "Not quite. You can't see mine?" Angharad stopped and bent over in a lewd posture.
    "No."
    A punch on the shoulder. "No, I didn't think you'd be able to. I'm not wearing any!"
    There was a bigger posse down on the green tonight. A lot of them for a Sunday. There seemed to be lots more boys. They immediately gathered round the newcomers like wasps round a pot of jam.
    "You'll be okay, won't you?" Angharad whispered confidentially. At some stage on the walk down the hill from home, she had unfastened the top four buttons of her shirt. About a mile of cleavage oozed out. You could have stuck a Yellow Pages in there, Zara thought.
    "I'm okay," she said, not feeling it at all. "Where are you going?"
    "I'm busting for a shag. I'll be behind the bus shelter. I won't be long."
    "Who with?"
    "I dunno yet, do I? Don't worry 'bout me. He looks nice. Like Ryan Giggs." Angharad was pointing at a dark-haired boy, not too tall. Pointing her tits at him.
    "He's a bit short."
    "The length don't matter, girl! Anyway, I thought I'd leave the taller ones for you."
    "Oh, thanks."
    "S'what friends are for. Later, okay? Enjoy!"
    She melted away, collecting the dark-haired boy like an efficient vacuum cleaner, and her place was immediately taken by four boys. The only one she knew was Winston Junior.
    "Hello," she said nervously. And she tugged the hem of her skirt down and fastened another shirt button.

"Haven't you met Betsy from next door, Keri?" Mrs Jones put down the TV section of the Sunday paper and took off her glasses. Ceredwyn was curled in an armchair, attached to her milking machine, one hand toying gently with her crotch. Mr Jones, unable to watch any longer, had gone upstairs.
    "I ain't seen her yet, Mam. What's she like?"
    "She must be shy. Ooh, I promised Mrs Smith I'd find some of my old bras for her."
    Ceredwyn yawned. "What size?"
    "Only 34J's, her mum said. Pretty small. At least, we'll know where the local bra shop is soon. Mrs Smith is showing me tomorrow. I thought I'd keep Eirlys out of school tomorrow and take her with us. She needs a new bra, and we've got to get her a doctor's note excusing her from PE."
    "I don't see why she gets off Games. 'Harad an' me, we both got bigger tits than her. Even Sian, when her milk's in."
    "It's not a question of tits. They explained about that at your last school. If they excuse one girl 'cos she's got big tits, where are they going to draw the line? Bein' hairy's different. Eirlys can't wear a PE vest and shorts. She'd make everybody sick, wouldn't she? But she needs a new bra anyway, and it will be a chance to try out this new shop. Discoveries, it's called."
    "Bloody stupid name for a bra shop, 'fyou ask me. Everybody knows what you're going to discover in a bra, don't they? Still it sounds a bit sexier than Mrs Gruffydd-Thomas' Foundation Boutique, anyway. Any colour you like as long as it's pink."
    "They were very nice bras," said Mrs Jones loyally. "The colour don't matter, anyway. Not for young girls. You don't take them off in public, after all."
    "Not in daylight," Ceredwyn muttered, shaking her bottle of milk as she turned off her heavy-duty industrial standard breast pump. Just the thing for a girl with such heavy-duty industrial standard breasts.

"Betsy wasn't feeling very well, so I've left her tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle," said Mrs Smith. "I hope she'll be all right."
    "We've got another passenger," said Mrs Jones. "Hope you don't mind. Eirlys is coming along with us. I'm going to get her measured for a bra, then leave her at the doctor's. She's got to get a note excusing her from PE. And I found these bras for your Betsy. Only four, and they're a bit tatty round the edges, but nice and strong."
    Eirlys appeared from the house, in jeans and a long sleeved sweater. She regarded the bras with scorn. "Why are they all pink?"
    Mrs Smith had been wondering something similar herself. Betsy might not appreciate a gift of four pink industrial strength bras.
    "Mrs Gruffydd-Thomas' Foundation Boutique bras are always pink. It's her trademark." She handed the little bundle to her neighbour. "Slip them in your bag so's you don't forget. All ready, young Miss? I don't really see why you need to wear a great big sweater on a day like this. You'll sweat buckets."
    "Oh, Mam!"
    Mrs Jones sighed. "Get in. We'll be behind all day. You've got to see the doctor after we've been to the bra shop."
    "Do I have to?"
    "Don't start!"
    Eirlys grinned to herself and settled in the back seat. Nothing like a good argument to start the week and make her feel pleasantly miserable.

End of Chapter 2