“You’d be about a C cup, right?” she asked, looking me up and down and measuring me with her eyes.
“What? No, I’ve always been a B.”
“Well, not anymore by the look of it,” she said, then bustled through the racks, stopping to select a few things before holding them up to me. “Black would look stunning on you with all that red hair, but I’ll grab some white and beige as well, to make sure you have some basics. If you thought you were a B cup, you’ll need a new everything, I’m guessing. These are cute, and the lilac will do amazing things to your skin…”
And so I ended up shoved into a change room with fifty million different bras hanging on the hooks, just staring at the new tags, unable to believe what I was seeing.
“How’re we doing for fit?” the sales assistant asked. “If they’re too tight, we might have to look at some D cups.”
D? D! There was no freaking way I was a D. As if to demonstrate exactly that, I tore my shirt off, then my bra, my breasts aching already. When I looked down, I saw that the lace and elastic had left red imprints on my skin, so everything felt super sensitive right now. I grabbed the first bra, a kind of bland, everyday beige one, and slipped it on.
As I looked at the mirror, my heart sank. I played around with the way my breasts were lying inside the cup, but there was no getting around it. The bra fit, but just. There was no spillage out the top of the cups or the sides, yet. I could get my mind around the fact my breasts had suddenly grown a cup size, but something made me think that it wouldn’t be long before I’d be right back here, looking for another upgrade.
“Fen…” I wasn’t sure where my alpha was, my voice high and thready, but he appeared outside the change room curtain in seconds, making me wonder if he’d been there all along. “Is there a reason why my body is changing?”
“Just get something you feel comfortable in,” he said. “We’ll talk in the car.”
I heard him talking in a low voice to the shop assistant, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to listen in. I pulled the bra off and then stared at my topless body for a second.
I’d always been fine being on the smaller bust side of things. I got that a large percentage of the dude population wanted his girl’s cups to runneth over, but literally everything was easier with smaller tits—cute bras, going without a bra, running and any other sport, no back pain. Looking like Venus with arms was hard damn work, Candy had informed me of this many times, and as I stared, I was beginning to realise that somehow, I was going to join her in the ranks. My hands shook as I brought them up, but when they cupped each breast, my breath sucked in so fast, it felt like my lungs would collapse.
Having my nipples touched, stroked, plucked, pinched, sucked… All of these were things I enjoyed a lot. It wasn’t something I did much when I was on my own, as it never did anything for me, but now? I gasped, great heady bolts of pleasure rocketing through me at the most basic of caresses.
“Riley?” Fen said quietly from beyond the curtain. “Riley, are you OK?”
I couldn’t seem to reply, my fingers moving very, very slowly over my nipples, my teeth sinking into my lips to stop myself from reacting.
What the fucking hell was going on? There was no way I was supposed to be this damn sensitive. Like, sometimes my breasts swelled up a little and got super sore when I was on my period, but not like this. They didn’t feel like ouchy bundles of oversensitive nerve endings. This was like my own breasts had been wiped away and replaced with breasts 2.0—bigger, firmer, not a freaking hint of sag, and fuck…so damn sensitive. I dared to pinch one nipple, almost dropping to my knees at the sudden rush of pleasure.
“Riley, I’m coming in,” Fen said, ducking through the curtain, then stopping still once he was in.
Those green eyes caught me red-handed, literally. I flushed hot, feeling sweat prickle across my brow as he stared, watching my fingers continue to move, the promise of pleasure enough that they kept testing what frighteningly new sensations could be pulled from my body.
Fen breathed out slowly, a long exhale filling the small change room, then he stepped closer and gently brushed my hands away to the sound of my little cry of discontent, his hand slapping down over my mouth.
“Can you be quiet, Riley girl?” he whispered. “Can you be oh so quiet, no matter what happens? I can give you a bit of relief before we get you a new bra.” I made a small grunt of complaint, and he just shook his head slowly. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. Just be a good girl right now and be very, very quiet.”
He chose to trust me, pulling his hand away, then dropping both to where I needed them the most.
Fuck, my teeth sank deeper, drawing actual blood, if the little trickle of copper in my mouth was anything to go by, but that small pain was more than offset by the feel of him. No matter how much bigger my breasts had gotten, his hands were larger, those warm, callused palms covering me, giving me the heat and sensation I didn’t know I craved. Then they moved, just abrading my nipples lightly, making my breasts feel like they swelled further under his attention before his fingers went to work.
My hand went to his waist, trying to stabilise myself the minute they bit down, as it felt like he grasped the base of my nipples, then drew them out from my body, the stretching sensation sending wave after wave of pleasure through me. My cunt clenched frantically in response, as if to exorcise this intense feeling, and I let out the tiniest of whines, feeling so bloody empty.
He was going to make me come, I could feel that with a deadly certainty. Somehow, Fen seemed to know exactly what to do, how hard, how often to caress me, bringing me higher, higher—
“Everything OK in there?” the shop assistant asked. “How’s the sizing?”
“Riley asked me to take a look,” Fen replied. “I think we’ll need some bras in the next size up. Something in a stretchy fabric, if possible, but still supportive.”
“Oh!” I could almost hear the cogs inside the woman’s head whirling as she worked to put two and two together—what we were doing, how she should respond, and more importantly, how she could get Fen to do the same to her.
Holy fucking batshit, where the hell had that paranoia come from?
But he just stared down at me with eyes blazing silver, watching my face transform into a snarl, then a silent gasp of pleasure and back again.
“OK,” she said finally. “I’ll grab the same items in the next size up, and then your mate can take a look.”
Your mate. They were the words I needed to hear, but what I really wanted to feel was this. Fen stared down at me with deadly focus, drawing me along now, faster and faster, pulling pleasure from my body with expert precision until my hand slapped over my own mouth and it all came to a head.