No. Deal with having L-cups for now.

"You know what... I'd rather not push it," you say, picking up the book. "It's not all bad, you know? I'll just deal with it."

"You sure?" Tom says. "Doesn't your back hurt?"

You smile. "I've put up with them for years. I'm sure I'll manage."

You unhook your bra and remove it while keeping your shirt on-- a 'magic trick' guys just never seem to be able to comprehend. They hang low on your chest, but they're not gross granny tits or anything. In fact, they're surprisingly firm-- it's just clear they're real.

"So, you need anything else from me?" Tom says, squirming in place. He looks guilty, like he thinks the whole thing is his fault.

"Just poke around in your books, try to find out anything you can about magic books like this."

That puts the spring back in his step. "That I can do. I know a few places to start looking at least."

You clap a hand on his shoulder. "I knew I could count on you."

Tom gathers his things and leaves your room, leaving you alone for the first time. You eye the notebook sitting on the desk and wonder what you could do with it besides giving yourself magical boob jobs. Teasing your ex leaves you genuinely frisky, enough to make you almost wish you'd have let him mess around with you for a bit before kicking him out. Almost.

Nothing you can't take care of on your own, of course.