Valentina's first Semester

Valentina, back when she was still just another student at Mammopolis University, had a routine. It wasn’t much different from any other student's: get to class, study at the library, maybe grab lunch at one of the crowded campus cafés. But her body had already started making waves. Though she hadn’t yet embraced the hypersexualized world that would one day turn her into a citywide icon, her breasts had become the subject of every whispered conversation. The university’s obsession with size, especially when it came to breasts, meant Valentina stood out, whether she wanted to or not.

That day, as she walked across the main quad toward the library, it was impossible not to notice her. She wore a simple, fitted sweater—something she thought was modest, but on her, it did little to hide her curves. Her breasts, large and heavy even then, strained against the fabric, bouncing slightly with every step, creating a ripple effect of eyes following her through the crowd. She wasn’t even trying to draw attention, but that hardly mattered in Mammopolis. Breasts like hers were an event unto themselves.

As she passed a group of students lounging on the grass, their conversation quieted. The men glanced at each other, nodding subtly, knowing exactly who she was— the girl with the huge tits. Some of them had been tracking her for months, snapping secret photos and uploading them to the underground forums where students shared updates on the biggest, bustiest girls on campus. Valentina wasn’t a full-blown celebrity yet, but in these circles, she was well on her way.

One guy, sitting cross-legged in the grass with his phone resting on his thigh, couldn’t take his eyes off her. His AR feed was already active, pulling up live stats on her body the second she walked by. He didn’t even have to look directly at her to know everything—the precise measurements of her breasts, the subtle changes in her figure since the last time he saw her. He watched her move through the crowd, his cock hardening in his pants, but he didn’t reach for it yet. There was time for that later, and here in Mammopolis, no one rushed through these moments. The entire city was built around indulgence, and the more intense the experience, the better.

Valentina, meanwhile, was completely unaware of what was happening. To her, this was just another day. She was heading to the library to get through some reading for an upcoming exam, her mind focused on her studies rather than the attention that swirled around her like an invisible cloud. She’d gotten used to the looks, the stares, even the occasional comment from bold guys who thought they had a shot with her because of the way her body drew attention. But today felt quieter, more ordinary. She didn’t realize how wrong she was.

As she entered the library, the cool air conditioning hit her, a welcome relief from the warmth outside. She made her way through the rows of tables, finding her usual spot in the back corner where she could work without being interrupted. She liked it there, away from the crowded center where more of the louder students gathered. It was quieter, more isolated. At least, that’s what she thought.

What Valentina didn’t know was that she had been followed—tracked, really—by at least half a dozen students, all of whom had been waiting for the moment she sat down. Their AR feeds had already pinged as soon as she stepped through the library doors, alerting them to her exact location. She didn’t see them, of course, but they were there, watching, tracking her every move.

She found a seat at the far table, setting her bag down and pulling out her laptop. Her sweater clung to her breasts as she leaned forward, the outline of her curves even more pronounced when she bent slightly to adjust her chair. A group of students, three guys sitting a few tables away, exchanged glances. They didn’t need to say anything. The look in their eyes was enough.

One of them, a tall guy with shaggy hair and a smug grin, pulled out his phone, pretending to scroll through a newsfeed but actually snapping a quick photo of Valentina’s chest as she sat down. The image was immediately sent to the private group chat he shared with his friends, who responded almost instantly with crude jokes and comments about how much they’d like to get a closer look.

"Fuck, look at those things,” one of them muttered under his breath, already shifting in his seat as his cock twitched beneath the table. “How the hell does she not fall over?”

His friend, a shorter guy with a sharp jawline and a permanent smirk, leaned back in his chair, casually pulling his zipper down beneath the table. “You think she even knows? Like, how much she’s fucking with everyone just by sitting there?”

The third guy, more discreet but just as eager, nodded toward Valentina, his eyes locked on the way her breasts pressed against the edge of the table. “She’s gotta know. No way you walk around with tits like that and not realize what it does to people.”

In a matter of seconds, all three of them had their cocks out, hidden just beneath the table’s edge, stroking themselves as they kept their eyes on Valentina. They weren’t alone. A few more guys across the room had also noticed her, their AR feeds picking up her body stats in real-time. Some were jerking off discreetly, while others simply watched, their hands resting in their laps, waiting for the right moment.

Valentina, completely unaware of the spectacle happening around her, opened her laptop and began typing, her mind focused on the assignment she needed to finish before the weekend. She shifted in her seat, feeling the familiar pull of her breasts as they strained against her sweater. Her back ached, as it always did after carrying the weight of her chest for too long, but she ignored it. There was work to be done, and she didn’t have time to think about the stares.

What she couldn’t see were the dozens of eyes glued to her every movement, the way her breasts bounced subtly with each keystroke, the way the fabric of her sweater tightened around her nipples as she leaned forward. The guys jerking off around her didn’t need to hide it. This was Mammopolis, after all. Public masturbation was as common as having a cup of coffee. It wasn’t unusual to see someone stroke themselves in the middle of a library or café, especially when a girl like Valentina was around. No one would stop them. No one cared.

Across the room, one of the girls sitting nearby noticed what was happening. She was a petite brunette with small, barely noticeable breasts—nothing compared to Valentina’s massive, attention-grabbing curves. Her eyes flicked between the guys jerking off under the table and Valentina, her lips curling into a knowing smile. She didn’t mind the spectacle, but part of her felt a pang of jealousy. In a city like Mammopolis, where breast size defined status, girls like her were often ignored, relegated to the background while women like Valentina took center stage.

Still, she wasn’t about to miss out on the fun. With a sly glance at the guys nearby, she slipped her hand under her skirt, her fingers brushing over her pussy as she watched Valentina stretch her arms over her head, causing her tits to press even harder against her sweater. The brunette bit her lip, her fingers moving faster as she imagined what it would be like to have that kind of power over people, to walk into a room and make everyone’s cocks twitch just by existing.

Valentina, still oblivious, stood up to stretch, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension in her back. She leaned forward slightly, her breasts straining against the fabric of her sweater, and across the room, one of the guys groaned softly, his cock twitching in his hand as he reached the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

Before he could finish the sentence, his cum shot across his lap, splattering onto the floor beneath the table. His friends snickered, barely holding back their own orgasms as they stroked themselves faster, watching Valentina with wide eyes as she adjusted her shirt, tugging it down over her hips. She still had no idea what was happening, no idea that half the library was jerking off to the sight of her stretching, breathing, simply existing.

And that was the thing about Mammopolis. Valentina didn’t need to know. She didn’t need to participate. Her body did all the work for her.