You’re bustier than usual.

Maybe it’s just you, but you seem a little topheavy. You sit up off the grass, or try to, as your chest seems heavier. You look down, and try to remember what your breasts looked like before, and whether they are, in fact, bigger. You stand up, and walk into your apartment. Your terrace is directly connected to the master bedroom, which is then connected, by a series of hallways and doors, to the kitchen, living room, and guest bedroom, as well as a few other things. You slide the terrace door shut behind you, and flop onto the bed, trying to gauge how heavy your breasts are, and we’re before this morning. You’re absolutely bewildered, and you feel your right breast in your hand, it _might _be heavier, but again, you can’t quite remember the last time you felt your breasts and actually paid attention to them. They’ve always sat in the same place on your chest and felt the exact same... you try on a bra, and voila. The bra, which used to be a bit big on you, is now struggling to hold in your breasts. Well, now, isn’t it good to have cleared that up. You make a mental note to buy a few bigger bras, and begin making yourself breakfast. A few minutes go buy, and as you’re finishing up your eggs, you spin around to get a plate out of a cupboard, and feel a strange sensation. A sort of... pulsing, in your chest. You reach down, and pull your shirt up, only to watch as your breasts, seemingly of their own accord, begin plumping up in size yet again. You had been sitting pretty at a little over C, and now you watch as your breasts swell to what you assume to be DDs, the pulsating stops, and you can’t help but feel a little perturbed. Suppose this continues... you pull your shirt back down over your (now much bigger) breasts and continue cooking breakfast. You finish up, and begin to eat. You’ve also poured yourself a large glass of milk, which you drink rather quickly, as you are quite thirsty.