Megan takes you with her to the mall.

The car ride to the mall is fairly uneventful. You make idle conversation, and the sexual tension that had been lingering between the two of you since the kiss seems to lessen slightly. You still can't help but steal occasional glances at Megan though, admiring the way she fills up the car just a little bit more than before. She catches you only once, briefly shooting you a knowing smirk before turning her attention back to the road.

'I know you're looking, Shortie.' She smugly thinks to herself, 'You're lucky I like it.'

Megan pulls the car into a parking space not too far away from the entrance to the mall, but still a little ways away. You both exit the car, and the first thing Megan does as the two of you start to walk beside each other is slip her hand around yours.

"Oh," You can't help but squeak, quietly flinching from the contact.

"Something wrong?" Megan asks, smirking back to you. Her eyes glimmer mirthfully at you, hand squeezing yours tighter, silently challenging you.

"Nope." You reply, backing down immediately. Even if you wanted to let go of her hand, you doubted she would let you.

"Good."

A submissive thrill runs down your back as she purposefully takes a step ahead of you, leading you through the doors and into the mall. It feels weird. You've never had a girlfriend take charge like this.

Actually, as you thought that word to yourself - Girlfriend - You couldn't help but wonder... IS Megan your girlfriend? What exactly were you two now? You had told her that you wanted to be more than friends, and she had expressed similar feelings, but the actual words "boyfriend" or "girlfriend" had never been spoken. You wanted to ask her, but things were going well right now. Really well. Doing so might take the good thing that you two have and make it uncomfortable for the both of you.

"Excuse me, sir!" An unfamiliar voice calls out to you.

You turn your head to the left and see an attractive redhead in her late twenties approaching you. As she does, your gaze sinks below the level of her face, settling on the ample swell of her impressive bosom. The top few buttons of her blouse have purposely been left undone, leaving on display her soft, ivory skin and inviting cleavage.

"Would you like a rose for your girlfriend?" She asks, smiling at you.

Only after she asks do you notice the single rose in her hand, angled gently in your direction. "How much?"

"Only twenty dollars!"

You start to reach for your wallet, but you are practically pulled off your feet as Megan gives you a tug forward.

"He's not interested." She answers for you, rolling her eyes and laughing. She puts one long leg in front of the other, moving along and leaving the flower girl in your wake.

"Hey!" You whine as you regain your footing, "What was that about?"

Megan raises an eyebrow at you, and holds up a single finger. "One, I just saved you twenty dollars. You're welcome."

She extends a second finger, her knowing smirk growing wider, "And two... How come when guys see a nice, big pair of tits, your brains just totally shut off?"

"I didn't..." You sputter, immediately trying to deny her accusation, "I wasn't..."

"You were about to spend twenty dollars on a SINGLE rose, dude." She interrupts you, raising her eyebrows at you matter-of-factly, "She was overcharging you like CRAZY"

You open your mouth to reply, but quickly close it. With the benefit of hindsight, you realize that she was totally right. She has you dead to rights, but thankfully she seems to find the situation funny rather than being irritated with you.

"They were pretty nice though, huh?" Megan laughs as she turns her gaze forward, seeming to put the situation behind her.

You notice Megan take a quick glance down at her own chest, frowning slightly, and for a moment it's like you can read her mind. She's been an athlete all her life, and thanks to the constant exercise her figure has always been trim and lithe without many curves to speak of. Even though they were perky and well shaped, her breasts had never grown beyond what you estimated to be a small B-cup.

In a way, it was a blessing in disguise. You had heard some of your friends with fuller figures complain about the back pain and just the general discomfort that came from having big boobs, but what if you could make it so that all of that was just never a factor?

Your thumb brushes over the wishing stone in your pocket, considering the possibilities.