For years, I’ve said, “I like my breasts, but it’d be great if they were just a little bigger.” So I thought. I was happily cruising along as a B/C (the sales people say C, but most tend to be gappy, but Bs are too tight). Now I’m a full C and growing. I think I’ll even crest into D before it’s all said and done.
At first, it was kind of cool minus the aching growing pains. They became a curiosity for Pete and me.
“Wow! Those are big boobs!”
“I know! And they just keep growing!”
And they do. I was sleeping on my side/stomach last night, but the position smashed my new big boobs so I had to move completely to my side. I thought I’d have to change my sleeping position eventually to make the belly happy, but nope, it’s the boobs.
Small boobs stay out of your way. Clothes button easily over them. Size small t-shirts cover my stomach. Not so with these knockers. My small t-shirts pull up, exposing my chubby, not-yet-pregnant-looking belly. The buttons on my blouses strain to cover the bigger girls. And reaching for things? The darn things block my arm all the time. I had to readjust my shampooing posture to accommodate these globes of growing flesh.
I admit that I am starting to get used to them. They fill out some of my tops a little nicer than the small ones, and the look of astonishment on Pete’s face when I’m standing naked after a shower? Priceless. Just wait until the milk comes in and they’re all for baby….