The Mole Man Used To Massage Her Breasts

Past

Walking around campus with breasts suddenly several cup sizes bigger was not a feasible option. That is what Harvey Elder had argued, and Sue Storm had come to agree with him. She didn't want to be the center of attention; she wanted to live her normal life, or what passed for it.

So the binder became a necessity.

The tight shirt was designed by Dr. Elder himself, using some advanced fungal-based polymers from his research. Light, strong, and able to withstand the immense pressure of trying to hold back Sue's enormous bosom so that she looked like she only had perky 34B's instead of the massive 34E's that Dr. Elder's careful measurements had determined.

The worst part was, they were still growing. Slowly, but a little. Harvey would take measurements twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, in the privacy of his lab. In truth, Sue Storm relished those periods of comparative freedom. The binder could come off, and the immense ache in her tits would vanish for a little while.

"Are you keeping up with your exercises, my dear?" Dr. Elder would ask as he brought the measuring tape around them.

"Yes, doctor," she said. Upper body strength, especially her back, neck, and shoulders, was absolutely necessary to prevent pain and possible complications. It was too sound and reasonable advice to ignore, although the hours at the gym left Sue Storm sweaty. Unable to use the ladies' showers for fear her two big secrets would be exposed, Harvey had given Sue a key to his office, which had a private shower.

"Please, Susan. Call me Harvey. Let's get you weighed, now..."

Sue blushed as she hefted a tit and placed it in the cloth sling that made up part of the scale. Her added growth had come with added appetite and increased weight, although she was pleased to discover that it seemed to be localized in her chest. Harvey speculated that was a side-effect of the spores, a localization effect that could help weight gain and loss. Another possible medical breakthrough.

And it would have both their names on the patent.

"Now then, my dear, please make yourself comfortable," he said, as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

It wasn't cocoa butter, but some sort of compound mineral and fungal oil. He claimed it would help prevent stretch marks and ease her sore pectoral muscles. If he had been anything less than a gentleman about it, Sue would have suspected him of being a dirty old man out to oil her tits.

Except resting on a couch as his gloved hands meticulously gripped and rubbed her great, soft, sensitive sweater kittens, Sue Storm realized he wasn't quite so old. Not as old as she thought, anyway. Ten years, perhaps fifteen. With that great probiscus of a nose and those small, squinty eyes hidden by his thick glasses, Harvey Elder was never going to be conventionally handsome, yet as Sue had gotten to know him she had begun to admire his confidence...the strength in his hands...the enormous care he took with her breasts.

Maybe that was what started it. Trust. Close association. And then her wrist had fell over the edge of the couch, and brushed the hard-on that tented his trousers.

Present

That was the point, Sue Storm remembered, as she ran her hands over her bountiful tits, which she no longer had to hide. That was the moment things changed between them. When she realized that Harvey was hard for her. Yearning for her. The prick had been so stiff it must have been painful. Yet he held back.

"And, of course, I was barely dating Reed at that point," she recalled aloud. "We hadn't done anything. I was saving myself for marriage, of course, but there were plenty of other young women in the dorms who did things with their boyfriends. I had eyes and ears, I knew that. Is it any wonder I let myself imagine what could happen?"

Except it hadn't stayed in Sue's imagination.