No question, they were bigger. 

Mara dragged the towel under the heft of her breasts, heavier than they’d been. It wasn’t normal to have a… ‘growth spurt’ like this at 32, was it? It wasn’t like she’d put on weight anywhere else. Just there, in her chest. She’d noticed a couple of days ago, when rolling over in bed. She’d flopped onto her stomach and felt like her balance wasn’t right. She figured she must have been imagining things, but… well, she’d spent half an hour last night squeezing and eyeing and measuring them. This morning, they were bigger.

Mara squeezed into her bra, finding it more difficult than usual, and got dressed for work. All day she was distracted – if she’d been thinking, she wouldn’t have worn a blouse with buttons down the front. She could feel the strain of them tugging at her shirtfront, testing the strength of those buttons. More than once she lost her place in the middle of writing an email, picturing the shirt giving way violently, buttons clattering noisily against the surface of her desk and the walls of her office.

She hurriedly removed her shirt and bra when she got home, her swollen boobs gasping for air. New bras this weekend, she thought as she slumped back on the couch. She idly cupped them with her hands, gazing down. Had they grown again? Over the course of the day? Seriously?

When Mara got up the next morning, they were even larger. Maybe. It was getting hard to keep track. Maybe they were the same, but her mind was more fixated now. It was Saturday, so she stayed in, going braless around the house, feeling the way they swung freely under her tshirt. Their weight and firmness demanded her attention. If she didn’t keep busy, she caught herself just standing there, hands on them, squeezing softly and idly through her tshirt.

She burned her dinner when she got distracted groping herself.

On Sunday, Mara called her doctor. She stammered her way through a description to the receptionist, not really sure how to describe this problem. After all, it wasn’t like she felt sick, even. On the contrary, she felt great. She might be lounging around, unable to focus much, but she felt energetic and alert. Her skin was clear and her hair actually looked better than it had in ages. She thought she might have lost weight lately, even – at least, in most places.

She called in sick on Monday. Lying in bed that morning, her tits felt warm and huge and incredible. She just laid there, squeezing them, staring at them. At some point that turned into slowly rubbing her clit while she played with them. The orgasm from that was the best she’d ever given herself. She did that six more times before lunch, completely forgetting her doctor’s appointment.

Having exhausted herself from cumming the morning away, Mara made her way to the shower and cleaned up. That took the better part of an hour – her rack just looked so fucking hot all soaped up and wet, she couldn’t keep herself from getting off just one more time in there. After that, she slid into a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt and headed to the outlet stores. The cotton of the sweatshirt rubbed on her nipples in such a distracting way that she was grateful she’d taken the train instead of driving. She’d have crashed into a ditch before she made it five miles, she was sure.

Hours later, Mara made her way back to the station with bags on both arms. She practically picked up a new wardrobe. It wasn’t a very responsible series of decisions, but the idea of showing off her big, delicious jugs was just too much to resist. She was going to look so fucking hot in that lacy pushup bra, or that emerald green corset, or even just those simple white tank tops that’d show off how her nipples protruded, or the-

-Mara more or less bowled over the guy coming up the stairs out of the station. She dropped a couple of her bags. He bent over, picking them up for her, murmuring an apology. He glanced up as he handed them back to her, his eyes catching on her chest. Even hidden by the unflattering sweatshirt, it was clear she had assets worth stopping his gaze. She grinned, thrusting her chest forward. She stepped a little closer, enjoying the scent of him, feeling herself flush with excitement.

This is the best thing that ever happened to me, Mara thought, reaching out and touching his chest as she said hello.


This story is brought to you by a follower who made a donation to the National Center for Transgender Equality. Thank you! The request was for a breast expansion story, which I don’t do a lot of, so I maybe took some liberties with that genre to fit my usual sort of thing. I hope it fit what you were looking for, and that everyone else enjoyed it as well.

Those of you who have donated and made requests, I can’t thank you enough. Those of you who would like to – please do. Any monetary donation to any trans rights group will work. Doesn’t have to be big, just has to be something. Send me the receipt (redact anything you want, of course, I’m not looking to datamine you) and I’ll write whatever you’d like to see. Happy to brainstorm with you, happy to keep it private if you want. Whatever works for you. Thanks very much.

Great story AND a great cause!