You smiled for the camera, making sure to lean over as much as you could. God, your tits look good in this shirt! Placing your phone on the desk, you couldn’t help but wonder if they looked a little bigger. You brushed off the thought, instead returning to your desk.
Books upon books upon books.
Extra reading, essays, analyses, everything under the sun still left to be done. You pulled up a chair, grabbing your pen and adjusting your glasses. You were going to get it done!
Looking over what to do, you lazily adjusted your bra strap. You rubbed the spot where it was, the skin feeling tender. You were in your room, what would be the point in keeping the silly tight thing on. You unbuttoned your shirt and took the breast prison off, sighing a little with relief before returning to your work. You made it about 3 sentences in before stopping again.
Your shirt felt uncomfortable now! It was too tight with the buttons done up, and the fabric felt too coarse on your sensitive chest. The shirt would have to go too! You slid it off, feeling a little dirty as you went back into your work.
“… the character’s motivations are in direct confl-” You mumbled what you were writing before abruptly stopping again. You arm was barely moving while you wrote, but it was making your chest jiggle and bounce like it were made of jelly. You tucked your chair in a bit, leaning forwards so your breasts were resting on the table. They pooled a little beneath your arms, but the things didn’t get in the way too much.
“… Are in direct conflict with their requi-”
Your pencils spilled over the table, the pot having been knocked over by yours tits. But… You hadn’t moved them. You sat up, looking down at them. They looked normal. Well, normal enough. Big, kinda perky, resting on the desk. Wait. Resting on the desk? They didn’t usually do that. You kept watching, gasping when you saw a line of your paper get swallowed up. They were growing.
“What the fu-” As if on command, set to explode when you realised, they began to grow quicker. You pushed your chair back so you didn’t ruin all of your work, only sitting away from it for a few seconds before they had swollen into your lap. They got every heavier, ever rounder, ever bigger with every second, filling up the space on your lap. They rocketed through the cup sizes as you stared in shock.
Just when you were starting to worry you wouldn’t be able to fit through the door they stopped. You couldn’t do anything but look at them. Metres of cleavage splashed out in front of you, your thighs obscured by the titflesh, your stomach completely hidden. You couldn’t even get closer to your desk, your chest barely touching it and preventing you getting at your work.
You may as well make the best of a bad situation…
Boobs upon boobs upon boobs.
Hey! Lucy here~ This one is semi autobiographical in terms of being unable to do the amount of work I have to do! Which I’m putting off to write this… Unfortunately, when I put off work I get low grades and sleepless nights, not giant tits. A girl can dream…
