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The following is a story first published on another web site under a slightly different nom de plume. I decided to post it here as well since there have been several mentions of it in posting for other of my stories. I’m trying to make sure that all of my works are posted here. Please note that aside from this foreword I have made no changes in any way. I hope the reader enjoys the story.
All characters are 18 or older.
A continuation of Abigail’s life.
She woke that morning as she had for the past many months: with one hand clenched between her thighs and the other clutching the distended nipple at the tip of one breast. She woke feeling refreshed and alive, eager to face the new day. The sex dream was fading rapidly and then gone as she rose.
Striding to her three-sided, full length mirror she stretched like a cat. Arching her back, hands clasped, arms upraised, lifting up onto her toes , her breasts rose as she stretched. She admired her reflection complacently. The magnificent pink mounds trembled only slightly as she breathed but they quivered heavily as she relaxed to stand flat footed. As they came to rest they settled firmly in place, high on her rib cage.
So large, she marveled once again. So magnificently large. Some women were embarrassed by the size of their breasts. Not her. Not anymore. Not since that day in finishing school! She had, she thought, the largest breasts imaginable. They had been the largest in her school by far. Probably, she reflected, the largest in town. She had never met, never seen, any woman as well endowed as she was. She couldn’t imagine larger breasts on a frame her size. And she felt nothing but pride and self admiration now. She no longer tried to hide her endowments under layers of clothing. Of course, it was impossible to hide breasts the size of hers. And why make the effort she felt?
At five foot nine inches, she was taller than most women although from a distance you would have thought her shorter than that. Most women her height were not nearly so abundantly blessed, she knew. The massively curved mounds sat proudly, high on her rib cage. The outer curves swept beyond the width of her shoulders by several inches. The bottom of her breasts rested just below her navel! And they were so fully fleshed! They swelled out almost immediately below the start of the cleavage that separated the immense mounds.
Women who were blessed with anything close to her proportions tended to be less than five feet, two inches. Something to do with puberty and hormones she had read somewhere. She was the lucky exception, she felt. And no woman, tall or short, had the same over-abundant curves, she knew!
Swiveling from side to side she watched as the immense, softly rounded mounds swung back and forth. At each extent they slapped softly against her upper arms, together, and then rebounded in the other direction. When she cupped a hand against the outer sides of each breast to stop the swaying the curve of each breast was almost unnoticeable to the touch, they were so large. Pressing inward, pressing hard, using her hands and forearms, elbows pointed straight ahead, she caused her breasts to surged forward, seeming to almost touch the mirror several feet in front of her.
As usual her aureoles puffed up a bit from the internal pressure. During periods of arousal they would also become more prominent, more noticeable, more sensitive to the touch.
Making fists of both hands she squeezed each aureole and pressed inward and upward. Her breasts crushed together, pushing outward and surging toward her face. She was imitating a pose that she had seen on the internet. She remembered the happy smile of pride that the model had had on her face. Her own face in the mirror was just as pride-filled and she was certain that her breasts were larger than the cover model’s. Her chin was just visible above the rounded swells of her breasts, her shoulders completely concealed while her navel was hidden between the lower, inner edges of her melons. Her elbows held akimbo, her breasts filled the complete expanse between. From below her navel to her chin, from outstretched elbow to outstretched elbow she was all breast meat, her clenched fists almost sunken from sight in the warm pink and tan flesh.
Her legs clenched tightly together, she felt a shiver of arousal at the picture she presented in the mirror. What a body, she chortled to herself!
Looking at herself in the mirror every morning this way had become a part of her awakening ritual. She enjoyed posing, imitating the photos of girls that she had seen on the internet and elsewhere. She knew that she was the envy of other women everywhere she went. And the object of the lust of all the men. And she relished the attention.
Smugly she watched as she released the pressure and her magnificent globes jellied back to their normal position, held high and thrusting forward in defiance of gravity. Her nipples slightly aroused from being handled.
She Ataköy escort cuddled each awesome breast to her self, caressing and kissing one and then the other in self appreciation. Then, reluctantly, she turned and moved to the bath.
As she entered the shower she recalled when her breasts had first started to become the massive globes that they were now. It had been long before she entered finishing school. At the time of her first brush with puberty. She had at first been delighted as she grew quickly to sport a firm pair of B-Cuppers. Then she had grown somewhat embarrassed as the continued expansion had turned into an on-going, ever increasing, expanding bust line. Other girls in the convent school had picked on her and made her feel unattractive, a “freak”.
It had taken a kind and understanding teacher at her finishing school to get her to consider herself attractive and blessed, rather than cursed. While he had never taken advantage of the teacher-student relationship, she had often fantasized of what might have happened if he had done so.
With his help she had discovered pride in her appearance and had begun to learn of the power that her incredible pulchritude imbued her with. Power to command the attention of any man. Power to reduce other women to insignificance, unnoticeable to men while she was nearby.
Realizing that she was repeatedly sudsing her breasts and no longer just washing Abigail reluctantly rinsed off and turned off the shower.
As she toweled off she inspected her vast globes. There were no stretch marks, her breasts were continuing to grow, to expand further outward, further forward! Lifting each in turn she patted them dry, enjoying the towel’s rough texture. Rubbing briskly she brought each nipple to prominence. They quickly blossomed into firm pegs, almost an inch wide and slightly longer. While much larger than normal they were almost lost against the bulk of the breasts that supported them. The weight of each breast was considerable and her supporting hand sank almost from sight as she lifted each breast to towel under it. The vast globes quivered as she patted the sides and tops. She enjoyed the feelings of movement. The reassuring massive weight of her breasts as they hung so solidly in front of her made her feel so womanly!
She was very proud of how large she had become. And the growth was continuing. Only last week she had received another supply of bras. Larger than the last group, a collection of sport and practical with a mix of what she thought of as entertainment bras. It was from this selection that she picked the lingerie she would use this day. A pair of high cut French bikini panties were pulled snugly into her crotch. A matching pale blue bra was cinched around her waist with the clasps to the front. Unable to see the clasps because of her immense breasts, she worked by feel to close the hook and eyes then shifted the bra around and, leaning over, pulled the straps and cups up and over her breasts, shaking each into it’s cup. Then, standing upright again, she pulled and tugged, shifted and caressed to snugly encase each breast in it’s lace and spandex container. Even though each cup contained enough fabric to make a complete bra for any other woman; on her the cups just barely covered the nipple and left almost the entire upper half of her breasts uncovered. She smiled contentedly at the cleavage she presented. The bras straps were connected to the cups on the far outside presenting an epic sweep of snow white breast tops separated by an extravagantly long cleavage.
A short, snug skirt that ended a fashionable distance above her knees was next and then a white sweater top that zipped up the front was stretched over her upper body. She had a doctor’s appointment before she headed to her first job interview and she did not want to have too much to struggle with. A short jacket was the last touch – it was a brisk spring day – then she grabbed her attaché case and was out the door – her flats clacking on the stairs as she descended.
************************ The Doctor’s Office
The doctor’s office was a familiar stop for her. Once a month she arrived early in the day and was measured and weighed. On alternate months blood was drawn. She seldom saw the doctor himself. Usually the nurse took down the statistical data and recorded it in the log book. There was no explanation of the continued growth yet, all of the tests returned normal results and yet the phenomenal growth continued. Some times a fraction of an inch increase. Often an inch in a month. Her weight kept increasing, but this was expected. Her thighs, waist and hips remained slender, almost unchanged. Her chest measurement had increased slowly; mostly due to an increase in musculature across the back and pectorals. The examining physicians had been astounded at the way she was able to carry her breasts with no discomfort. And the fact that the hugely swollen breasts remained almost defiant of gravity was also Ataköy escort bayan remarkable. Examinations had suggested, but been unable to determine conclusively, that she had developed additional ligature support which allowed her breasts to continue to jut forward so dramatically. She didn’t care why it was, she was just pleased that it was.
As she entered the doctor’s office the receptionist looked up and with a smile told her to enter examining room 3. Dropping her attaché case on the floor beside the chair in the examination room, she hopped up on the examining room table and waited. It was only a few minutes later when a nurse entered.
“Abigail deWinter? Hello, I’m Nurse Sweeney. I’ll be taking your measurements today.” She did not recognize the nurse.
“I don’t think I know you”, she said.
“No, I’m new with the doctor. I must say, having read your records I’m quite anxious to do this work up. You have created quite a stir in the profession young lady.”
“Because of these?” she queried, gesturing to her over filled jacket.
“Indeed, yes. You appear to be a statistical anomaly. Now slip off your clothes and I’ll do the measurements. Would you like to slip behind that screen?” she asked indicating a small screened area in the corner.
“No, I’m not shy”, she replied as she doffed her jacket.
“I must admit that I was skeptical when I first read your charts. But I see that if anything I had not grasped the extent of your, um, attributes.”
“Yeah. I’m big aren’t I?”
“I, I, uh, hope you don’t take offense. But, I’ve never imagined a woman could be so , um, ah, well-endowed.”
“Nah, I’m pretty used to it. I’ve been really big for a couple of years now.” Now that the subject had come up she noticed that the nurse really was staring at her chest. She didn’t usually pay much attention to the reaction of those around her- she was always so much larger than anyone else. She was used to having people gawk at her.
“Do they cause you any trouble?” asked the nurse. “Some times I understand that women who are extremely well endowed get backaches. Not to mention the unwanted attention and negative reaction that you may experience from time to time”
“No. They are no trouble at all. At first I was a little insecure but now I really like being large chested. And the bigger I get, the more I like it. I’m proud of how I look!”
“Well that’s a very healthy attitude.” said the nurse. “Okay lets get started.” The nurse was making no pretense of not looking at her in her skirt and sweater.
She unzipped the sweater and with a shake of her shoulders wriggled out of it.
“My God!” exclaimed the nurse under her breath, watching in amazement at the outrageous shimmy this created in the exposed bosom.
“You, ah, should slip out of that skirt as well”, she said. “I want to be sure all the measurements are correct.”
Abigail leaned over as she pushed her skirt down and off her hips. Bent over like that the nurse was presented with a vista of naked flesh bisected with an immensely deep cleavage that stretched over a foot to the top of the over-filled brassiere cups.
“Might as well leave this on till you get my chest measurement”, she said motioning to her bra.
“Good idea. Now hold still while I…
The nurse sank to one knee beside her and rapidly wrapped the tape around one thigh.
“Nineteen inches, very muscular. Do you work out?”
“No, not really. But I do walk a lot.” She always walked as much as possible. She enjoyed knowing that the guys were all watching her as she bounced and jiggled under the sweaters and knit tops that she preferred.
“Walking is great exercise”, the nurse said as she measured the hips. “Um 34 inches. Waist, ah, 22 inches and very muscular I notice.”
“The Doctor says I’m developing more muscle to compensate for how large my breasts are becoming. He thinks it’s one of the reasons that I hardly sag at all! Really, I hardly need to wear a bra,” she confided to the nurse.
The nurse quickly ran her tongue over her lips. There was a glint in her eyes.
“Um, okay. Now turn around and let me get a good measurement above and below your breasts. This is why I asked you to keep your bra on, dear.”
Now lets see…” The nurse quickly wrapped the tape across the top of the chest, under the arms, her hands lightly stroking across the girl’s cleavage as she did so. She noted the measurement in the log.
“Now the lower one. Raise your arms, please. Yes, like that.” Her hands brushed the undersides of the bra, lingering momentarily as she straightened out the tape. “Um, let’s see now. I make it as thirty-four and a half inches. That’s a little larger than the last time. I guess you’re gaining weight!” she teased as she gently rested her hands on the girls waist. She was standing very close behind her.
“Probl’y muscle” Abigail replied and giggled. “That tickles!”
“Ticklish are you?” asked the escort Ataköy nurse. Her hands stroked lightly up the long waist. “Well, never mind. Take off your bra now. I need to make the rest of the measurements.”
Standing in front of the patient, the nurse made no pretence of not watching as the bra was removed. To her obvious surprise there was little sag when the immense harness was taken off.
“Amazing”, she muttered under her breath as she gathered the tape in her hands. “This is quite a stretch” she muttered as she stepped up to Abigail and attempted to pass the tape from one hand to the other behind the girls back.
“Sorry, excuse me”, being almost a head shorter than the patient she had to stand very close and she had brushed her hair against one of the gargantuan tits. If she had faced forward her face would have been buried in the cleavage in front of her.
Carefully, slowly, she brought her hands together, not allowing the tape to tighten so much that it pulled the breasts together. With an amazed look on her face she said, “Eighty THREE inches! Eighty three and a quarter inches! I’ve never heard of such a thing! And they don’t have any sag to speak of. Young lady, you are a miracle! These have to be the biggest, firmest, breasts in the world!”
Abigail was watching the nurse’s amazed reaction with amusement and pride.
Then she started to giggle.
“And what is it that you find so funny, my dear?” asked the nurse.
“Well you said eighty-three inches, right?”
“And a quarter of an inch. Yes. Is that funny?”
“Well, I was just remembering a couple of years ago. I lied and told someone that I measured eighty-three inches then. I don’t know why. It seemed important to me to tell him I was really big. I only measured about sixty-five or seventy inches back then. I thought eighty-three inches sounded much bigger. He seemed impressed. And now I do measure eighty-three inches. And a quarter.”
“Indeed you do.” Replied the nurse. “Now lean over. Let me get the measurement.”
“My, even when you lean right over like that your breasts don’t really dangle down like most. They still seem to be really round! Truly, you a blessed young woman! But it does add about ten inches to the measurement. So I guess you could tell someone that you measure ninety-five inches if you wanted to.” They both giggled at the thought.
Straightening up Abigail said, “Well, now you can do the other measurements, Nurse.”
There was a confused look on the nurse’s face. “Other measurements? What other measurements?”
“The ones on the back of the sheet,” replied Abigail.
“Back of the sheet…” the nurse muttered as she flipped the sheet over. “Um, Depth, Span, Circumfrance…” she read off the page. “well, I don’t understand these.” She looked up at Abigail. “What are they? You’ve been through this before, not me. What am I supposed to do?”
“Well, you start with that measuring ‘T’ there.” She indicated two pieces of wood joined at right angles with a knurled knob. Both lengths were marked in fractions of an inch.
“See, you put one end here, on my sternum, and the other piece you move out until it’s just touching the tip of my nipples. And you mark down the distance shown here.” She pointed to the junction of the two rods. What does it say?”
“Thirteen and one half inches.”
“Then you mark down the distance from the center point out to each nipple.”
The nurse jotted down the left and then the right number. Adding them up as indicated on the form she entered nineteen inches in the total column.
“And then there is the measurement that I always ask the nurse to check. It’s unofficial, but I think its fun. Watch this”, she commanded. Using both hands she simultaneously massaged and milked her nipples until they were quivering at attention.
“What does that measure now? For depth? It usually adds at least an inch, sometimes more.”
“Yeah, y…y…yes, it does!”
“Now, loosen that knob and watch this – make sure you don’t drop the rods!” she warned.
Taking a deep breath she drew her shoulders back and mashed her tits together as hard as she could with her forearms. With a little zzzzzip the cross piece was pushed outward so fast that the nurse gave a little yelp as she stepped back.
“I warned you not to drop it!” Abigail said with a smile. “Now pick it up and tell me what my cleavage measures when I squash them together like this.”
With a chagrined look on her face the nurse did as she was asked.
“Um, wow! Almost exactly twenty four inches! As my brother used to say, ‘What a set of knockers’. Oh, excuse me, that was unprofessional of me. Still, you must be used to a certain amount of attention carrying such a large pair of breasts.”
“Sure, I don’t mind. I know how lucky I am to be so well endowed!”
“You certainly are! In all my years I’ve never heard of anyone even remotely as top heavy as you are. Not even any of the silicone enhanced entertainers on the dance circuit. Gosh, I’m a D-Cup myself, I’ve never thought I was flat chested. Until today!” She laughed.
“And you have such a good attitude! You seem at ease with your body image. Many less well endowed women are trying to minimize their bust size.”
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