Of course.

You sit on the corner of your bed, assessing the 'damage'. No matter how much you look at yourself, touch yourself, it still feels 'normal'. You can think back to ballooning up from mosquito bites to triple Ds in a matter of months. You remember the teasing, the name calling, but you never let it get to you.

Alongside this 'normal' set of memories are ones that feel contradictory. Memories where your breasts took forever to bloom and settled into a meager size that barely justified wearing a bra. Now, it feels more like a requirement.

You mash them together, assessing their girth and feeling the familiar pressure on your nipples when you squeeze a little too hard. It makes them erect and stretches out your already impressive areola. The arousal comes from the contrast between these two realities. You had plenty of guys go crazy over them, but it wasn't like it did much for you-- until now.

Thinking about it hard brings you an arousal you didn't think was possible. Your mind dances between one reality and the other, giving the strange sensation of your breasts fluctuating in size. Every time they 'grow' larger, it assails you with sensations. You imagine your skin growing tighter, stretching and fattening into the glorious pair of tits you 'always had'.

On the other end of the spectrum, you're still able to comprehend the 'joy' of being small and manageable. In short, you have the best of both worlds.

You snap out of your trance, realizing you have your hand down the front of your panties, gently stroking your clit. You're not exactly sure when you'd surrendered to urge, but you're aroused and ready, almost disappointed you don't have anyone to enjoy it with.

Right now anyway. You can't imagine you'll have a hard time finding dates. Thinking back through your memories you find it curious how much things line up. All the same boyfriends, all the same dances, all the same friends. The book literally just changed your breast size and your inward view of your body.

That in itself makes it easy to surrender to pleasure. The whole thing feels deliciously fabricated, like a dream that won't end. Your first orgasm comes like a quiet storm, seizing your attention and then slips away. You find yourself going a bit rougher, leaving your clit to your thumb and stirring deep with your index and middle finger.

The second orgasm is that much more exhilarating and time slips away.

Yeah... you definitely plan to have some fun with this book. You've only scratched he surface.

To be continued...