One Cup Size Per Chip

The skin felt tight on her breasts, and Lois felt suddenly short of breath. The straps on her bra began to dig into her shoulders and back, cutting in to the soft skin underneath her boobs. Looking down at her chest, the reporter could see the pale flesh start to puff up against the black lace cups, like rising dough.

As the pain grew, Lois fumbled with the catch behind her...but it was too late.

SNAP

Sudden relief as the pressure on her shoulders and back ended. Lois took a deep breath...and then the bra was suddenly dragged away from her.

In the last hand, Lois had likened her growing breasts to a second puberty. This time, however, the titflesh simple seemed to flow, pushing itself out of her, out and away. Normally Lois wore a B-cup, moving up a size a little if she was bloated during a period, generous, pert palmfuls. After her first growth from the demonic card game, Lois had brassiere had been overstuffed, painful to wear bu holding, and she had gone from small to stacked. Now...

Lois had known some women that were naturally well-endowed. Most of them were on the heavy side, or were or had been pregnant; hormones and genetics had combined in a whirlwind of fat deposits and swollen milk glands to give them heavy, protruding busts. Then there were big-bust models, the kind whose milkers rode wide and fat on their ribs, often hanging to either side of their slim torsos.

But Lois' had desired something different. A shape, those high-pointing half-teardrops with a slope you could ski off of. Now the reporter was getting them...only nine cup sizes larger.

The titantic tits stood out from Lois' chest, the tip of the bra cups hanging off her nipples nearly a foot from her sternum. The wide, warm sideboobs brushed against the reporter's biceps, and she knew that anyone looking at her from the back would be able to make out the soft curves, which hung heavy on her ribs...but not any lower. Lois might be brushing tabletops, but her nipple weren't down by her belly button.

My nipples.

Gently, hesitatingly, Lois let the bra fall off of her breasts on to the table, revealing her pert nipples...and Lois sighed in relief when she saw that the araeolas were still pink and perfect, not stretched out, simply larger than before, puffy and prominent. She touched one of her breasts and felt the finger sink into the warm, pendulous flesh. Not the hard, overfilled saline bags of breast augmentation. Real breasts. Natural boobs.

My tits. Lois realized, feeling the weight of them threaten to drag her onto the table. They're almost the size of my head. I must be... She tried and failed to calculate her cup size. The largest Lois had ever seen had been her mother's while she had been pregnant and nursing Lois' sister. K-cups, according to the US system...and Lois doubted she could wear those in her current state.

"They are very nice." Blaze's voice broke Lois out of her reverie. "I must admit, I've always been fond of larger busts on my partners. But we still have a game to play. What do you say to..."