Hillary's Second Stage Growth

This is a x-post and written by DDDave.

Seems Hillary is becoming quite obsessed!



Hillary's Second Stage Growth





"Honey, Toh's coming over to visit. Could you wait out front for her? She doesn't know this area and I don't want her driving in circles!"

So I clattered my way downstairs and around to the front. Toh and Hillary had become fairly close friends since they first met in Ms LeFaye office several months ago, but this was the first time Toh had visited Hillary's apartment. Hillary and I were seeing each other regularly, but neither one of us had broached the idea of moving in together.
I had waited about five minutes before I realized that I had no idea when Toh was expected. I could be out here all day! But I knew that if I left my post to ask Hillary, Toh would drive past and miss the house.
As I was trying to decide whether to take the chance Mrs Murgatroyd's daughter skipped around the far corner of the house.
"Hey, Kim!" I shouted.
"Whatcha doing, Rich?" Kim asked as she came to a stop in front of me. "Looking for someone? You and Hillary gonna have visitors?" Three weeks ago Kim would have gone the other way when she saw me. Now she skipped right up to me and started chattering away. She had become much more comfortable with Hillary and me. I wish I knew why.
"Yeah, actually,we are. Could you do me a favor? Run upstairs and ask Hillary when she expects Toh?"
"Toh?"
"Yeah, that's her visitor's name. Do me a favor, huh?"
"Oakey dokey." Kim ran/skipped around to the back.
In about two minutes she was back.
"About five or ten minutes she said. Boy, I haven't seen her up close in a long time. She has the biggest boobies I've ever seen! You must really like big boobies to be dating Hillary!" This k** was really putting me on the spot!
Kim was looking at me with the biggest blue eyes. Waiting for an answer. It's funny how young k**s can say the damnedest things. And get away with it.
Luckily, I was saved. Before I could think of a response I saw Toh coming up the street in her Toyota mini van. Hurriedly, I waved her to a nearby parking spot.
I had turned to say goodbye to Kim when I saw her eyes bug out and her jaw drop.
"Fuck me!" she exclaimed. "Does every woman you know have tits the size of beach balls? Holy hell!" Kim suddenly didn't sound like a k**!
Toh had gotten out of the van and was walking toward us. Wearing a pale blue linen jacket over a lightweight summer dress she looked fresh, young, beautiful and hugely stacked. There was no disguising the fact that Toh proudly carried an immense set of breasts in front of her. She walked lightly and agilely despite having breasts that were as wide as her shoulders and preceded her by at least 18 inches. Beachballs indeed! She actually looked bustier than the last time I'd seen her about a month back.
"Rich! So nice! You look good," Toh exclaimed as she reached us. "Who is this?" she asked as she turned to Kim.
"Toh, this is Kim. The landlady's daughter. She lives here. Come on up. Hillary is waiting to see you." I was glad to get away from the suddenly curious Kim.

"S'long, Rich. Nice to meet you, Toh" said Kim as we departed. She was still gaping at Toh's bust line.
"Such nice little girl," said Toh. She latched on to my right arm with both hands as we walked. I enjoyed the soft, warm pressure of her breast on my arm and side as we headed upstairs.
For the next 45 minutes Hillary and Toh chattered away like any pair of life long friends — who had known each other for just months. When I closed my eyes I heard talk about work and men and clothes and men and food and fashion and men. With my eyes open I watched two women with the largest bosoms imaginable. Watching them together I kept waiting for worlds to collide. It never happened.
Both of them sat at an angle to the small dining room table. If they had sat facing each other I doubt that there would have been room to place a saucer on the table between them! That is if Toh had been able to rest her boobs on the table. She was so petite that her breasts met the edge of the table about six inches below where her cleavage started. She kept crushing one breast against the table as she conversed with Hillary.

"Oh, dear, you've gotten something on the sleeve of your jacket," Hillary suddenly exclaimed. "Slip it off and let me try to clean it," she offered.
"Boy, without your jacket you seem larger than I remember," commented Hillary as Toh handed over her jacket.
This, of course, riveted my attention on Toh. It seemed to be true. Now that Toh had removed the jacket, her bosom did appear even larger than the last time I'd seen her. Although Toh was much shorter than Hillary it seemed that she was only a little smaller around the bosom than Hillary's massive bust.
The very sheer sun-dress had spaghetti straps, with a square cut bodice. While it fit closely around her waist and bosom, it was loose and swirly around her hips and legs. It ended just at the knees. There was the barest hint of cleavage at the neckline.
"And I love that dress. I have such a hard time finding clothes. With breasts like these it seems all I can do is get separates," Hillary said. "If a dress is sized for my bosom, the lower half swims on me and if the lower half fits, I can't even come close to fitting into the top." Hillary gestured to the blue jeans and white ribbed top that she was wearing.
"And you're wearing a strapless bra! I love it! Where on earth did you get it?"
"Oh, Ms LeFaye tell about a tailor woman. Make lovely clothes. Not expensive. Know how to make clothes that flatter figure, disguise if I want. Nice lady. From England," Toh explained.
"You must give me her address. I want to see if she can do some flattering intimate apparel for the bedroom. And dresses. I would love to wear a dress that really fits me again. Not just separates or skirts and blouses."
"She have shop on Rampart Street. I give you address before I go. She help you with nice clothes. We two women, have vast bust. All men watch us. Richard watch us both all time I here! I like to feel Harvey's eyes on me when we are together and I like to feel eyes of other men as well. Do you like as much as Toh?"
"Maybe more. I like to know that men ogle me with lust in their hearts. Knowing that they are spouting boners as I walk by makes me feel good. And having men sprout boners and feeling good about it seems to be what make the pendant work for me!
"It only takes one look at these huge melons to get most men hard. And just a little wiggle, like this, can get some men so confused they walk into walls." Hillary demonstrated with a small shoulder shimmy that caused her breasts to quiver massively under her knit shirt. I could see the ribbing expand and contract as the knit top tried to cope with the suddenly surging flesh beneath.
When Toh imitated her, one of her dress straps fell off her shoulder exposing a quivering eight inch length of cleavage and the upper swells of her boobs as they bounced and shook. Her long nipples immediately poked out and made themselves present under her thin dress.

"Wear strapless bra today with this dress. Not need for support. More to hide nipples but when excited, not much I can do to hide. Seems amulet makes breasts firmer than most. Need bra only for tease and hide."
"Yes, I've noticed," responded Hillary. "I'm so much firmer than any other woman near to this size. You'd expect that these things would be down around my knees but they perk right up here." She gave herself a little squeeze. "The lower slopes are just below my navel despite being 76 inches around."
"But, Toh, where is your pendant?" I asked her.
"I take off last week. I still get jealous when boyfriend notice other woman. That why bosom now larger than before. Still grow when jealous. But not really want to grow bigger. I know boyfriend love me only. Need to learn not be jealous. I give pendant back to Ms LeFaye."
"Really? Not me! I want to be as big as possible. There is no such thing as too much, I think!"
"I started because I wanted him to love me. Now I know I have man who does. So I can stop. Not want to be biggest. Want to be in love.
Several hours later, the still stained jacket in hand, Toh left, with Hillary and I walking her back to her minivan. None of us paid much attention to the honking horn of the pimply adolescent who was driving by. Funny thing. They never stop. Just honk, wave, sometimes yell — but they never stop.
Toh's note with the address of the "tailor woman" was clutched tightly in Hillary's hand as she hugged Toh goodbye. Boy, there was a combined cleavage you could hide a yule log in!
"I had so much fun, we must do this again," she said.
"Yes, please!" said Toh.

Toh turned to me and impulsively hugged me too. Shorter than I, her breasts engulfed my lower chest, stomach and groin as she squeezed me tightly. I was used to being hugged by Hillary — which usually involved my almost suffocating in her cleavage. This made a nice change. And I was sure that Toh felt my dick take notice of the soft warmth of her breasts. She quickly released me and got into her mini van. She waved goodbye, but not before giving my crotch the quick once over with her dark eyes.
She grinned quickly and winked at me as she pulled away.
"And just what the hell was that all about?" Hillary was upset with me.
"What was what...?" I started.
"Don't try to play innocent with me. Look at yourself. One hug from Toh and you're standing at attention like you haven't seen a pair of tits in two years!
That was an exaggeration. I was at about half mast. But it was tough to hide in the jeans I was wearing.
"And her winking at you! That tramp."
Kim took this opportunity to bounce around the corner of the house and was standing beside Hillary before either of us knew she was there. Her eyes immediately fell to my crotch and she stammered "Hi" while staring at the protrusion that reached over half way down my thigh.

I was as much embarrassed as angry as I went up the stairs as quickly as I could.
I decided to change into a baggier set of pants. My cock drooping heavily toward the floor, I wasn't nearly hard but my dick was at least nine inches long and thicker than a knockwurst as it dangled in my shorts.
I was standing there, in just my boxer shorts, when Hillary came in.
Without a word she stood in front of me. There was a gleam in her eyes that I didn't recognize. Looking me in the eyes, Hillary slowly raised her hands to the front of her chest and began to toy with her nipples through the fabric of her top and bra. Within seconds the little nubs were hard enough to see thru the fabric as she plucked and pulled at them.
Still without removing her eyes from mine, she pulled her top from the waistband of her jeans and slipped her hands under it. Sensuously she ran them over her stomach and up over her bra-encased breasts under the cloth. As she moved higher, her forearms slowly raised her top, exposing her tight, smooth stomach. Within moments the fabric of the top was exposing the bottom edge of her bra, just at her navel, while her hands were a foot higher, caressing the upper slopes of her breasts.
With a grunt of effort, Hillary lifted both elbows up, exposing her immense bra, and in one continuous move stripped the top off over her head.

Proudly standing in front of me, her breasts surged and quivered within the confines of the immense industrial strength bra cups as she breathed heavily from the effort of removing her top. Still wordlessly, she slipped each inch and a half wide strap off her shoulders. In response her bosom dropped, but only an inch. Slowly she began to shimmy her shoulders from side to side as she gradually leaned toward me. I could hear the fabric of her bra groaning in protest of the abuse it was taking. As the bra straps fell past her elbows she slipped her arms free and raised them to behind her head. She released her hair from the pony tail that had restrained the waist length blonde strands while continuing to shimmy back and forth.
Once more leaning forward Hillary used her upper arms to press her breasts together — forming a cleavage above her bra a foot long and even deeper. Quickly then she reached behind herself and, glancing coyly at me from under her eye lashes, she released one bra hook after another. After releasing five hooks she slowly pivoted to show me that bra was still held in place by the middle hook.
Facing me again Hillary simultaneously inhaled and lifted her hands to cup the back of her head. As she continued to inhale she flexed her back muscles to expand her chest as much as possible. With an audible creak something in the bra slowly collapsed under the pressure, the body band came loose and her bra began to slide majestically down the long slopes of Hillary's bosom toward the floor.
Hillary caught the bra just before it would have revealed her nipples. Crushing the stretched out fabric to herself, she kneaded her breasts, squeezing and massaging, while licking her lips suggestively. Her breasts heaved and surged in response to her self-manipulation and I felt my dick, which had been rising slowly in response to her teasing, pop out of the opening of my boxer shorts fly.
Laughing gaily Hillary tossed the bra aside and, shimming like a kootchy dancer, slid to her knees in front of my fully erect dick. Her boobs continued to shudder and shake for long seconds. "I thought I ought to remind you of who has the big tits around here!" She giggled as she used her boobs to enfold my lance in a warm embrace. "No one has bigger tits than I do. No one has a cock like yours! You know that! Let Toh look all she wants. She can't handle you the way I can! No one can! I'm bigger than her. I'm inches bigger than Toh!"
Her tongue darted out to tease the tip of my cock as it surged through her cleavage.
"Now I want you to spurt your cum all over my big, big tits. I love to watch you cum on my boobs." She continued to push and pull her tits up and down over my cock until, with a groan, I unloaded. My squirting dick slid up and spouted onto Hillary's neck and the top of her breasts and then was swallowed up again to drench her cleavage.

Smiling proudly, Hillary grabbed my dick with both hands and milked every drop out onto the vast shelf of her boobs. She rubbed the sperm into her skin as she smiled up at me.
"Now, get on the bed, honey. I want to feel your tongue in my pussy! If you have the strength, I may even let you fuck me later!" She giggled as she jounced into the other room. Hell, I knew as well as her that she wouldn't let me out of bed until after we'd fucked our brains out. And that was okay with me!
Pausing to pick up Hillary's discarded clothes to toss them in the hamper I noticed that the stitching on her bra had held up. It was that last hook itself that had given up. It was pulled straight!





The next morning the tinkle of a small bell announced Hillary's entrance into the shop of Ms. Joan Shaw. The proprietor was not in evidence and Hillary used the time to examine the shop.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Some racks of clothes, some mannequins displaying clothes and undergarments. In fact, the whole place had a kind of dusty, unused air about it. The clothes were not particularly fashionable or current; the bras and other items of intimate apparel were standard "Cross Your Heart" B and C cup bras. There was even a girdle on display.
"When was the last time I knew someone who wore a girdle?" thought Hillary to herself as she looked around. "This has to be the wrong place. This is not at all what I was expecting," she decided.
As she was starting to leave the store the inner door behind her opened and an English accented voice said, "May I help you, miss?"
Looking over the rack of dresses that stood between them Hillary saw a woman, presumably the proprietor, coming toward her.
"She is not what I expected, either," she thought to herself. The woman was almost as tall as Hillary, with close cropped auburn hair. She seemed to be in her mid forties but her face was remarkably well preserved, whatever her age. Also well preserved was everything from the neck down.
Wearing a form fitting suit that flattered every line of her body the woman was the picture of refinement and grace. Her skirt ended just above the knees and revealed dusky hose which in turn led downward to a pair of black pumps with three inch heels.
It was as she rounded the rack that Hillary suddenly realized that the woman was also sporting a chest measurement far larger than she had at first thought. In profile it was clear that this woman was stacked! Not in Hillary's league, but big by any other standard.
With a quick glance up and down, the woman broke into a smile and extended her hand. In that split second glance Hillary felt that she had been examined, measured, evaluated and assessed in minute detail.
"I am Ms Shaw, Joan Shaw. Welcome to my shop. I can see that you are in need of my services! Please come into the back where we can chat."

"Well, I was just leaving. Um, I think..." Hillary started.
"Nonsense, my dear. No one else can do for you what I can. Not in this town. Don't let this clutter fool you." She waved dismissively at the shop. "Step back here and let me get you some tea."
Brooking no opposition, Ms Shaw gently guided Hillary thru the shop's back door. The inner room was a revelation. Unlike the front show room this room was a study in modern, low key design with flattering indirect lighting sources picking out elegant dresses and showcases with a bewildering array of undergarments and accessories.
"Yes, it is a different world back here, isn't it?" Ms Shaw had noticed Hillary's wide eyed stare as she tried to take in all there was to see in this room.
"The front room is just for the walk-in trade. Most of my real customers are word of mouth referrals. As I suspect you are?" She let the question hang in the air.
"Well, yes, I suppose so. I have a friend, Toh Rhee, who wore the most exquisite sun-dress to a little get together yesterday. She gave me your name and address."
"Ah, Toh! She is one of my biggest customers! And I mean that in all the ways you may think! A lovely woman! With a spectacular figure. I would guess that your figures are close to being the same."
"Well, I think I'm actually a little larger up here," said Hillary, gesturing to her bosom.
"You certainly have a lavishly spectacular figure. Please, sit here while I get some refreshment. Feel free to look around. I'm sure you'll find some things that you'll enjoy. I'll be right back." With that, Ms Shaw disappeared behind a beaded curtain.
Hillary took the chance to really look around. The first thing that struck her was that all of the dummies were equipped with much larger than normal sized breasts. All of the dresses had substantially larger bodices. Many were cut in ways as to emphasize this. Others were much more discreet. Some were so cleverly done that it took careful study to realize just how large the tops were.
And there were shelves and shelves of lingerie. A whole rack of shelves contained strapless bras, long line bras, demi cup bras, quarter cup bras. Old fashioned "rocket cone" bras, soft sport bras, all sorts of bras! None were on display, but there was quite a variety of colors, fabrics, textures and sizes on the boxes. At least twenty shelves side by side, the bras were arranged by size. The middle shelves where Hillary started examining them carried labels identifying them as 36's. The lowest shelf, just below her waist held 36-F cups while the top shelf held one each in R, and U, two X and one labeled 35/66, Level II, B, whatever that meant.
Noticing that the band sizes seemed to go up to her left, Hillary walked to the far left side of the shelves. The bras here were more varied in sizes, ranging from 54 GG up to 68 W. Again, there were some with the Level II label.
At the far right the sizes started at 26-C. Here again there was the Level II. This one (the only Level II to be found here) was a 30/54, Level II, A. Hillary paused to consider.
"If this 26-C is what I think," she murmured out loud, "it means that there is a girl walking around somewhere with a 21 inch chest and a 29 inch bosom. I wonder how old she is?"
"Eight and a half," came the reply from behind her. Ms Shaw put down the tray she had silently carried into the room. "She is one of the earliest developers I've ever known. She has no figure at all really from the ribs down. In fact her waist and hip measurements are also about 21 inches. When she grows up, she may look a lot like you if she's lucky. So far, she seems to be bearing up well under the weight of her unusual appearance."

"I hope she does well," said Hillary.
"Well, what is it I can help you with?" inquired Ms Shaw as she poured tea. "One lump or two?"
"Two please."
"Yes, of course."
"Your shop out front doesn't hint at what you have here in the back," said Hillary.
"Yes, and on purpose. Much of my business is mail order. My local business is almost always by referral. The front room is just to handle the walk-in trade. I really specialize in the, well, how to put this? The unusual challenges of foundation garment design. Almost all to order, of course. I like to keep a lot of choices on hand. If the average woman in America is a 36-B and she can choose from hundreds of options I'd like to present a variety of choices to a woman who may not fit into the "average" bra. Such as yourself. And to a smaller degree, myself.

"I started this business in England years ago when I left school. I had trouble finding flattering clothing choices in my size. Even if your bust only measures in the mid-fifties as mine did then and still does, it is hard to find flattering, well fitting garments. So I started doing up my own. I found that there was a call for such items for other women in my position. Now I do mail order world wide. I hope I can be of help to you, my dear."
"I'm looking for some flattering lingerie. And a dress. And something that I can wear to a job interview or such. One that will, perhaps, disguise my figure a little."
"Well, let's start by getting some measurements and seeing what we have to work with. Let's step into the fitting room."
Hillary followed Ms Shaw as she held open another door that lead to a smaller room with a comfortable chair, a three panel mirror partially enclosing a nine-inch high platform and several plants.
"Step here please to start," indicated Ms Shaw, pointing at a doctor's scale. "I don't care about the weight but I need to know your height."
"My height...?"began Hillary.

"Please, it is most important. I've years of experience at this. Please do as I ask. Slip out of your shoes, please."
Stepping up onto the scale, Hillary fidgeted as Ms Shaw carefully measured her height.
"Five foot, ten inches. Okay, fine, that's um, 66 inches tall. Fine. Please disrobe. You do not need to remove your panties. There is a modesty panel over there if you prefer, but I must take the measurements personally to assure accuracy. Feel free to use the robe on the hook if you wish.
"That's all right. I'm proud of my figure! It took me long enough to get it! I've waited all my life for this figure!" Hillary quickly doffed the jacket that she had worn and started to remove her slacks.
"What an odd way to put it."
"Yes, I suppose." Hillary turned to place her slacks on top of her jacket on the chair and slipped out of her loose blouse remaining in only her bikini panties and cavernous bra. Ms Shaw seemed not at all affected by the immense size of either the bra or the breasts that it struggled to contain.
"Right! Before you remove that contraption, let me get your hip, waist, lower and upper chest measurements." Suiting deeds to words, Ms Shaw quickly measured Hillary.
"Indeed. 35 inch hips, 24 inch waist. Your lower chest measures 37 inches while your upper chest is 39. Take off that, that, ugly harness. Now, the full circumference..." With a grunt of effort Ms Shaw passed the tape from one hand to the other around Hillary and drew the ends together at her spine.

"Does the tape follow your fullest measurement?" she asked Hillary.
"Yes, just below my nipples and around the largest part of my sides!"
"Well, then. Seventy-five and three quarters of an inch. Good. You have a magnificent figure. But, I'm sure you knew that! At five foot ten inches tall with seventy-six inches you will need one of my new Level II bras. A B cup I believe."
"A B cup!" exclaimed Hillary in horror.
"Well, a 42/66 Level II B Cup is not the same as what you may be thinking. Let me explain.
"I started this business, as I said because when I left school I could not find clothing or lingerie that would flatter my bosom. And I'd only a measurement in the mid fifties! As my business increased I found that there are some women who have such large breasts that normal measurements did not seem appropriate. You are one. So is your friend Toh. There are many women who literally burst the standard measure. They, like yourself, are the possessors of a bust measurement that exceeds their height. After you go thru the alphabet from A to Z in cup measurements where do you go? I spent some time trying different measuring systems that would accommodate women such as your self.

"In the end I devised a system that is based on proportion. When you see a woman you notice her figure first. You notice that her bosom is large or small. But what you really notice is that her bosom is large or small in comparison to the rest of her figure. A short, petite woman with a 36 inch bust may well look incredibly well built! The same measurement on you would indicate a fairly flat chest. See? So proportion is the key! A Level II bra indicates that the woman's bust measurement at least equals her height! I choose the name Level Bra System because my system allows each person to be measured against herself. It levels the playing field, so to speak. If you know the height and bust measurement of two women you can quickly determine which is proportionately more busty.
"The Level Bra System cup size is measured in percentages above a woman's height. Each cup size indicates an increase that is 4% larger as compared to her height. You are 66 inches tall with a seventy six inch bust measurement. In the Level system you are a 66 Level II. Your bust measurement meets, or exceeds, your height. You are 10 inches larger around the bust than you are tall. This 10 inch represents about 8% of your total height, thus the B cup. In my work, the bras are all custom made, of course, to exact measurements
"Using this system a woman could, conceivably, increase from a Level II A through Level II Z cup, or you could call it a Level III bra. At that point they would, with their next increase, need a Level III A-cup bra, indicating a bust measurement of twice their height! And so on. See? Simple, elegant and more informative than just a number with no reference point.
"What would Toh measure using this system?"
"Well, she was just here last week. She picked up her new strapless bra. It was a 32/62 Level II D Cup as I recall."
"Level II D Cup huh? So in this system of yours, Toh would actually be bustier than I am, eh?"
"Well, proportionately, yes. She is inches shorter than you and only a little smaller in circumference. The smaller frame combined with the almost as large bust would result in her seeming to be bustier, yes. Although looking at how full your breasts are, I suspect that the total volume of breast compared to total body volume in your case..." Ms Shaw's eyes became unfocused briefly as she continued to mumble to herself.
"Well, that is something I will have to consider more thoroughly in the future. Now let's see if we can find you something that you will like. You can get dressed while I bring out some suitable choices." Ms Shaw turned to her store room as Hillary proceeded to get dressed.





When Hillary got home she had a new glint in her eye. She was a changed woman. She had a renewed purpose. She was dedicated, determined and willing to go the distance while doing what needed to be done in order to achieve her goal. Throw in any other business/sports cliché about a will to win that fits.

I followed her as she marched straight into the bedroom, retrieved the amulet from the nightstand and slipped it over her head once more.
Turning to me she proclaimed: "No Oriental chick, friend or not, is going to have a bigger bust than me. Guys, prepare to lust. After me. I'm gonna tease, I'm gonna tempt, I will swing and sway. I'll jiggle and jounce. I will flaunt what I've got and get even more as a result. Just wait. I may become the first woman to need a Level III bra!" I had no idea what she was talking about.
Flinging open the closet doors Hillary began to sort through her wardrobe. Rapidly she started tossing clothes onto the bed. She built two piles of clothes. The first contained all the clothes that could not possibly fit her any longer. Old dresses and clothes that predated her bust expansion. She indicated that they were to be given to charity.
It was the second pile that she was interested in.
"Richard, help me sort through this stuff. I have to find the hottest, sexiest clothes I own so I can get the best response from guys. I want to be able to stiffen a cock at a hundred paces and cause ejaculations just by walking by men. I'm going to grow the biggest set of tits I can! Nothing else will do!"

Soon enough the pile had been winnowed down to a collection of short-shorts, tight skirts, skin tight jeans and the smallest, tightest, most revealing tops that Hillary owned. Many of them were items that had fit well some time ago but were now just a little too small for her seventy six inch bosom.
Over the next several days she mapped out her strategy with the precision of a military campaign. Her target: the crotch of every man in town. Her goal: the arousal of lust in everyone who saw her. Her determination: absolute and unstoppable.
Over the following weeks Hillary took to wearing the most titillating outfits she could put together. Every evening she would return home and measure herself. I was called upon to sate the lust that she built up as she teased and taunted the men in town. I was truly surprised that at no time was she ever accosted or attacked.
I wasn't spending every night at Hillary's the way I'd been doing. Her priorities had clearly changed and I was just the object to be used when available to satisfy her needs Every time I saw her Hillary would recount the who, where, how and other details of the days events.
She would regale me with the tales of the reactions of the men as they first saw her. The double and triple takes. The ones that walked into walls and light posts. The glares of the suddenly ignored girlfriends. The details of the attempts to be ever more provocative.
Daily she would dress in short skirts, tight sweaters or blouses. Dresses cut down to there. Or further. Inches and feet of cleavage was revealed. But despite her every effort Hillary was not at all content with the results of her campaign. It seemed to take longer for the pendant to charge than it had before. Her crystal would flicker to life with a soft pale glow when she gained lustful looks and die out after we had sex. Her breasts would expand another fraction of an inch each time. She became more and more determined even though the growth was not as rapid as she wanted it to be.
As I recall I was the first to notice one significant change. We were making love one evening. Hillary was on top of me, powering up and down in long, strong, deep strokes that brought the maximum pressure to bear on her clit. She had experienced two or three orgasms and was building to another peak when I began to squeeze the tips of her breasts.
Understand, when Hillary was on top, her nipples were not always right there for me to latch onto. If her hands were on the bed instead of on my shoulders or chest, then her breasts rested on top of me.
That was the position now. I could feel her tiny stiff nipples scr****g back and forth over my upper stomach and lower chest with her movement. Then, when she straightened up some and shifted her weight a little more toward my thighs her breasts rose off me and I grabbed hold with both hands.

Her breasts were so firm that I never was really able to squeeze a full handful. Rather, I was able to flex my fingers together a little and then her firm flesh would resist. It was somewhat like trying to grab a mostly inflated basketball, but each breast was larger, although not so spherical. This time, when I squeezed, she hissed in a breath and moaned.
"Gently, lover, gently! I'm real sensitive tonight!"
"Okay, I'll kiss 'em and make 'em feel all better," I replied as I used both hands to heft her left breast to my lips. As I drew her nipple between my teeth she moaned again, deeper and longer. It felt like her nipple was larger between my lips. My head moved like windshield wiper blades as I switched back and forth from one to the other. Her moans rose in pitch and increased in frequency.
She crashed into an intense orgasm and shuddered to a halt on top of me while I kept up my nursing, alternating tit tips. Suddenly to my complete surprise, I felt her entire vagina convulse around my embedded dick. The pressure was stronger than anything I could recall having felt within this marvelously active cunt and her entire passage began to pulse, quivering and tremoring the length of my whole shaft. I came within seconds and as I ejaculated deep with in Hillary she crumpled over me in a dead faint.
Concerned, I quickly got her onto her back and rushed to the bathroom for a glass of water. I don't know if that was the right thing to do or not but by the time I got back she was conscious. And thirsty, so the water did come in handy.
Hillary quickly regained her self.

"Lord, that was something else. It was the most intense orgasm I've ever felt," she told me. "It was like there was an electrical current between my pussy and my breasts. It pulsed and grew and grew until I fainted! Wow! I don't know how many more like that I could take! But I'm willing to find out!" and she reached for my dick.
"Take it easy, honey. Not so fast! Take a few minutes to recover! Besides, I'm not nearly ready to go again so soon."
"Honey, I can get your dick hard so fast you'll be dizzy. I'm blessed with the biggest tits you've ever seen and if I want you hard you'll get hard. You boob crazed maniac. Here, lie down. Let me sit on your stomach and dangle these huge hooters in your face. That oughta get you hard in no time!"
Putting words to action, Hillary was astride me in seconds.
The ceiling was blocked out as she hunched her shoulders and thrust her colossal boobs at my face. I ended up wedged into the cleavage between each breast as they pressed against the bed. My nose was at least six inches away from the bottom of her cleavage!
"I'll back up a little," she giggled as she wiggled backwards.
Once again I used both hands to heft her boob to my lips. This time I started with the right one. As I brought it into my view I saw that her areola was puffed up. It and the nipple were larger than I'd ever seen them.
"Honey, your nipples look larger!" I exclaimed. I ran my tongue around the perimeter of her perfectly circular tit tip. Her nipple was the size of a pencil eraser. Just as stiff, as well!
"And more sensitive too!" she moaned.
"No, really. I used to be able to completely enclose your nipple and areola in my mouth. Now, it seems that there is a little outside of my lips."

The nipple and areola that had once resembled a TicTac centered on a silver dollar was now both longer and larger.
Smiling lustfully down at me Hillary used both hands to heave her other breast to where she could gaze at its prominent nipple.
"You're right! It is a little bigger. And puffier as well, she exclaimed as she pinched and pulled at it with one hand while trying to support her boob with her other hand and arm. "Oh, and it is more sensitive! I like it! Can you suck them both at once?"
She dropped the breast she was holding and, using both hands, tried to crush her breasts together enough so that I could get my mouth on both at the same time. That didn't work. There was too much flesh to handle. Switching approaches, Hillary rested her hands on the swells of breast just above her nipples and tried to crunch her boobs together with her elbows while pulling her nipples closer to one another with her hands. It was an epic struggle. Her nipples pointed outward somewhat when her breasts hung from her chest. They more or less pointed straight ahead when she was leaning over me as she was now. But there was still at least nine inches of flesh from the center of her cleavage to the nipple on each breast. With both of us pushing and mashing her tits together we were able to bring both nipples close enough that I could suck on them at the same time. With her boobs squeezed together like this her cleavage was forced up so far that Hillary could barely see what I was doing. Her face was buried into her cleavage almost up to her nose as she moaned and sighed in response to the nibbles, sucks and licking I was subjecting her nipples to.
Hillary had at least two more orgasms as I spent the next half hour lavishing her tits with attention. Then we fucked until we both collapsed in exhaustion. Her change continued. Soon her areola was the circumference of a small saucer while her nipples grew wider and just a bit longer. They quickly became so large when she was excited that they were to be seen even when she was wearing a sweater. This did not disturb Hillary at all.

"Lots of men like to see my nipples poking out like that. I like it too. It tingles and makes me feel sexy when my nipples jut out for all the world to see."
The growth continued. Within weeks her breast circumference at the largest increased by several inches due solely to the expansion of her now wildly puffy areolae. When aroused, which was practically constantly, they sat like a soup bowl, seven inches wide, two or three inches deep, on the end of Hillary's breasts. And they were topped, finally, by nipples that would swell when excited like half a Vienna sausage. The fullest part of Hillary's bosom continued to fall just an inch and one half below these now behemoth nipples. When the nipples were added into the calculation they pushed her total bust measurement up another few inches!
Now, no matter what she wore, her constant excitement was prominently displayed.
"I feel like a little k** again." She whispered to me one day while we were waiting for the bus. "I can't wait to see what happens next. When my bestest friend, Mandy, had puffy nipples as a k** it marked the beginning of her breast growth. And I had a similar episode when I first started to grow, remember?
"Well, yeah, but this time you've really grown a lot larger. Last time your cute little titty tips just puffed up a little. Now you're as large as some women's entire breasts!"
"I know," she smiled proudly down at herself. We were sitting on bus bench near campus. "And still, so sensitive. It takes just the smallest touch!" Not caring if anyone was watching she brushed her hands lightly over her breast tips and smiled fondly as her immense nipples and areolae swelled into jutting prominence. A passing bike rider smashed into the back of a parked car. Hillary did not seem to even notice.

That night Hillary dug through her lingerie drawer. Crowing with triumph, she exhibited her find.
"Look, honey. It's one of my old bras!"
"That one looks like it was one of your first bras! That thing will never fit you," I told her.
"I know that, silly," she told me as she stripped off her clothes. "Look at how small it seems now." She held it up next to the bra she had just removed. Both cups of the old bra were dwarfed by one of the cups from her newer bra. "This is one of the first bras I bought. It's a B cup. I wonder.."
She held the old bra to her immense chest. Using both hands she positioned the cup to her right breast, over her newly enlarged nipple and areola. As she rubbed the lacy bra over her tit tip and pinched her nipple thru the fabric the flesh beneath sprang to prominence, her areola puffing up. As it did so, it filled the bra cup that Hillary kept covering her tit tip. Within seconds the cup was filled to the brim. And beyond.
Look here, Richard! I can over fill this cup with just my nipple and areola! See, the cup can't cover the pink flesh on either side when the bottom is covered. I remember the time not so long ago when I would have been ecstatic if my breasts had become as large as these are all by themselves!"

But Hillary's excitement faded as within a few days. It became evident that her breast expansion was almost at a complete halt. True, her breasts were now well over 80 inches in circumference and were topped with hugely excitable nipples. But no matter what she tried, she could not achieve the massive growth that had come so easily before.
Her activity outside the college library a week later was typical. By this time her schedule was well known. Male students had been jockeying for the best positions for an hour when she appeared around the corner of the library and started toward the steps. An immediate hush fell over the crowd. Her mincing gate and high heel shoes gave her walk an element of eroticism that was seldom seen outside of a movie house or striptease hall. She was not going to strip perhaps but she was definitely teasing.
Her men's shirt was stretched tight over a custom made turtle necked leotard and tucked into a tight denim skirt that was cut up the front and back to reveal quick glances of her legs as she watched. No one noticed her legs.
Every one noticed the massive surging that was evident even through her bra, leotard and shirt as she strode majestically toward the steps down to the broad promenade that led away from the library.

At the top of the stairs she paused to move the bookbag she clutched against her gargantuan left breast to the other side and lightly stroked the brass railing with her left hand. As she made her way slowly down the stairs her use of the railing was understandable. She was clearly unable to see the three closest steps because of how far in front of her the fleshy shelf of her bosom projected. Her breasts surged and rebounded with movement as she gingerly made her way down the stair case. Her boobs rose and fell with her downward progression. Slowly her blouse was working itself free of the confines of her tight skirt despite the constraint of both bra and leotard. Finally, as she was almost to the bottom, it did come free. At the base of the staircase Hillary stopped and dropped her belongings on the short wall next to the stair case and, moving with exquisite slowness, she gathered up the loose fabric of the blouse. Beginning with the lowest button, she slowly began to unbutton her blouse, seemingly unaware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes following her every move. A groan of disappointment mixed with rising excitement greeted the sight of the turtlenecked leotard that was revealed as she crammed her blouse into her book bag.

Her bra, revealed now under the leotard to also be white, was clearly visible in contrast to the light tan that Hillary still retained from summer. It was the newest bra that she had bought from Ms Shaw. The shoulder straps were over an inch wide. The body strap was at least six inches wide and housed a hook-and-eye every half inch. The cups were made of lace and spandex panels. As this was her newest bra there were no small rolls of flesh pooching above the line of the bra cups. Her leotard, not so new, was stretched so tight in places that the fabric pattern of Hillary's bra was embossed onto the leotard. This was particularly evident at the tips of her breasts where the fabric was stretched to the point of translucency.

Once again on the move, she strutted between the crowds of men who watched in awe as the largest bust any of them had ever imagined paraded past. Moving ponderously up and down, each elephantine breast had a natural rhythm that swayed, quivered and surged in time with Hillary's walk. Without the shirt the shifting and quivering movement of Hillary's incredible vastness could easily be appreciated. The erotic spell was only enhanced by the slow emergence of her areolae as they became visible through her now even thinner leotard fabric. Slowly swelling with excitement, they approached the size of a half g****fruit. Each was capped by a nipple the thickness and half the length of a Vienna sausage. As her excitement increased the nipples became more and more prominent. As she turned the last corner it appeared Hillary had stuffed a robin's egg into the tip of each bra cup!
That evening, Hillary was disconsolate.

"Look here," she cried, pointing to the log she had been keeping. "Weeks and weeks of strutting my stuff all over town and all I have to show for it is a measly ten inch increase in my bust! For all the teasing I've done, for all the men that have lusted for me, this pendant should be shining like a lighthouse. Not glowing dimly the way it has been! I have to go see Ms LeFaye tomorrow and see what's going on. She should be able to help me. I have to do something drastic if I want to reach my goal."
"But honey, your nipples and areolae have expanded hugely! Why, just last week you were bragging that you could fill a normal B-cup with each areola! And I swear, they are bigger now than ever! If you just wait you may start growing again."
"Well, it isn't enough! I want to have the biggest breasts in the world. And I don't want to have to wait! I want to grow so large that I have trouble moving. I want a Level III Bra! There are going to be some changes. I'm going to have the largest bosom I can have! Nothing is going to stop me!" Hillary shouted at me.