Sensations across my breasts

“I don't know,” you tell him as you close your eyes to somehow pinpoint anything you feel. You feel sensation across your breasts, since you remember picking out one of your sister's sports bras instead of a regular bra. You think this is the case and say, “Maybe my breasts.”

“What's wrong with your breasts? Are they hurting at all? Or what?” he asks.

Without thinking, you take off your shirt, revealing the sports bra underneath. You look at your brother, who has a shocked expression on his face. You ask, “What?”

He shakes his thoughts from his mind and looks back at you, earnestly trying to keep his gaze above your neckline. “What are you feeling?” he asks.

“It's a little tight, I think,” you tell him.

“Tight like around your chest or just specifically on your breasts?” he asks.

“More for my breasts,” you say.

He looks at the bra you're wearing and how flat your breasts are in the bra. Without thinking, for the second time, you lift your bra from your chest and over your head, and toss the garment to the floor. “Sheesh, warn me next time,” Jake says and looks at your breasts. You peek at his gaze and fortunately, he isn't gawking at it like a pervert would. He examines you all around, even getting to his feet and going around you. “You said you woke up like this?”

“That's when I got that call,” you state.

“And you remember going to sleep as a guy?” he continues.

“I remember going to sleep in those boxers,” you say, pointing to a discarded pair on the floor, “and when I woke up, I was wearing the exact same pair. I-I can't explain how, much less why.”

He goes over to the discarded bra and examines it, looking specifically on the tag on the interior side near its stitching. “Huh. It says this is a compression bra. I think I remember Stephanie wearing these to beach volleyball practice. That was before she twisted her ankle,” he tells you. He fishes his phone from his pocket and types into it. “It says that compression bras are more for high-intensity activities, like diving for a volleyball. It presses your breasts to your chest so they do not move around so much.”

“So, I just need to get a regular bra then?” you ask.

“Maybe a sports bra that's used for light-intensity stuff, like jogging,” he suggests. “Or you could try for a regular one.”

“I'm not so sure I'd be able to reach that far behind to fasten. I may need help,” you say.

“I'll go with you. You did ask for my help after all,” he tells you. Nodding, you get to your feet and reach for the shirt you took off, not knowing that in doing so, you bend forward as if you're bowing to him. He catches sight of your breasts, how they naturally hang from your chest. When you stand upright, he's looking to the side and you're thinking, for once he's giving you your privacy.

You lead him to your sister's bedroom and once the two of you are inside, he closes the door behind him. “Oh, I've never been in here in a while,” he mentions. While he is hovering around, looking through your sister's things, you focus on getting another bra. You have no patience while going through other sports bras. You cannot tell if they are for high- or light-intensity workouts. In your haste, you open another drawer that contains more lacy bras. You pick one out, a black one that has hooks and clasps at the back. There are three rows of hoops and you wonder if this is for proper fitting. It it's too loose on one row, you'd try the next one to cinch the garment to your body more.

“Jake?” you call out, “Now I need your help.”

He walks over and your hands guide him to what needs fastening. He is quick to figure it out. He fastens the hooks with the first set of hoops. “How's that? Not too tight?”

You absentmindedly adjust your breasts into the cups of the garment as you stand in front of the mirror. You feeling relief, yet it does fit loose. “It's actually not tight enough,” you tell him.

“Alright,” Jake says as he unfastens your bra and brings the ends together again, hooking onto the second row of hoops. You actually feel the skin of his finger lightly graze along your spine and you pause involuntarily, enjoying the physical connection. “Uhm... John?”

You shake yourself aware, looking up into the mirror. There is no discomfort with your bra and your breasts look supported by it, even a bit pushed up, making them seem bigger. You see your older brother's face in the mirror as he stands behind you and you turn around, to properly thank him. However, once you face him, you discover something shocking.