And at least one load... for the washing machine.

One shower later, Pastor Clarke felt refreshed, physically as well as mentally, even though not going another round under the warm water had taken some restraint. He'd chucked his dirty bed sheets into the washing machine and was now on his way to the kitchen for a snack, trying not to grin at the way his big, soft boobies bounced and jiggled with every step. And as he walked, the pastor got to thinking.

Why exactly had he been so stressed this last week? Because he kept fighting his own body, agonizing over what was happening to him. And whenever he just accepted his beautiful breasts, his swelling, bountiful milkers and played with them to his hearts content, reveling in the pleasure they made him feel, the pastor had felt... not calm, of course, but a far cry from stressed. And now, after his first proper, pre-meditated session of 'acceptance', Pastor Clarke felt as good as he ever had, even before this condition of his had first started.

It wasn't just the jiggling of his bazongas - as the pastor wondered where he even knew that word from, he adjusted the bulge in his slacks. He neither knew how it was possible nor if it was related to his milky condition, but even if Pastor Clarke didn't use it very often, and even less with a partner, his new size below was a source of satisfaction for him. Worrying about the swelling below didn't even cross the pastor's mind - why would he, now that he had stopped worrying about the swelling up top?

Snacking on an apple he'd gotten from the kitchen, Pastor Clarke went to his study and got to work. Somehow, it was much easier to continue the sermon now, even though the pastor didn't focus completely on writing, hands straying to the creamy expanse of titflesh bulging from his half-open dress shirt or the tingling nipples poking through it. But maybe that was the key; Pastor Clarke wasn't worrying or agonizing about the oh so terrible fate that had befallen him, but luxuriating in the subdued pleasure filling his body, keeping him half-hard the entire time he worked.

And this time, the pastor's work wasn't interrupted by the need to milk himself around noon - his breasts were surely fuller than in the morning, but a far cry away from leaking. He'd been making good headway, too, the sermon's rough draft almost finished by the time there was a knock on the door. Of course, it was Sarah, carrying a shopping bag from a store with a logo that seemed to consist of a V entwined with an S. Smiling at the way his housekeeper blushed and couldn't help but throw a glance down at his overflowing cleavage - and then the bulge in his pants."Ah, hello, Sarah." Deciding to tease her a little, Nicholas thrust out his chest, only to immediately regret the decision as he heard some thread begin to rip, either on a seam or a button. Going back to sitting normally, he continued. "Back from shopping?"

"Uh... y-yeah. I bought some groceries while I was at it." As much as Sarah was in control of herself when she was in control of the situation, the Pastor's reactions seemed to throw her for a loop every so often. "B-but... here's the most important thing!"

Stepping into the room, Sarah held the bag up with a wide grin. Pastor Clarke wasn't quite convinced he needed to wear bras, but Sarah was so excited that he just had to indulge her. Besides... the way his dress shirt pressed together the soft orbs on his chest made them look nice already, so maybe... with a proper bra? Sarah sat down on the floor, rustling the bag.

"The sales girl was super helpful, and don't worry, I told her I was shopping for a girl friend, not the guy I work for." As she gushed about the shopping trip, Sarah began to pull out bra after bra. After bra. After bra. Setting all of them down on the floor in front of her. "Oh, don't look at me like that. Some are for me. But I just couldn't go past this red one, or the lace on this purple one, and this black one is to die for, and this one's super-comfy, and..."

After describing the amazing properties of at least 15 bras, Sarah looked up at the bewildered pastor with a flush face and a huge grin.

"So, which one do you want to try first?"

"First?!"

"You didn't think you could wear just one, did you? That would be unhygienic and unsex-- uh, you know, it's just not a good idea." Holding up a pretty red bra with a tiny bow between the cups, Sarah thrust it towards Pastor Clarke. "Let's start with this one!"

"I, uh..." The pastor could identify the cups, and there were some straps, but in all of his life, he'd opened maybe two bras. Putting one on? No chance. "I think I'll need your help."

It was hard to say who was more excited about this, Sarah or Nicholas. The housekeeper definitely showed it more, but Nicholas couldn't deny that Sarah touching his sensitive titties - and maybe even more - didn't sound too bad. Alright, that wasn't entirely correct. The thought alone brought him from half-hard to fully erect and throbbing, pants suddenly painfully tight. Obviously, Sarah noticed.

"Oh yes, plea-- I mean, I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't, right?" Sarah barely caught herself, still sounding almost desperately eager. "Okay, it's easy, really... But you'll need to, uh, take off your shirt."

"O-of course." Nicholas' heart was beating so very fast as he began to unbutton the dress shirt, his heavy breasts tumbling free after the first two. Sarah couldn't help but gasp as they settled high on Nicholas' chest, perky and firm, swollen with milk. And the attention sent a lustful thrill through Nicholas, his nipples stiff and pulsing with his heart beat. "And now?"

Author's comment: Feeling a little under the weather, so short chapter today. But also a question: How far should Sarah dare to go in this? Sex would be too far, but breast feeding, dry humping, handjob, blowjob should be fair game. Let me know in the comments!