"You've been overdoing it, Frederica. You ought to get away for a break." Dr Wallace reclined in his chair and wished he could light up a cigarette so he could admire the big-bosomed woman from behind a protective smokescreen. God, the tits on her! Single, unattached, a ready-made family; everything a young and ambitious doctor could need. Sadly, Dr Wallace was no longer young, and his lifelong ambition of finding and settling down with a gloriously huge-breasted girl was now, at best, unrealistic. If only he had met Frederica twenty years ago. She'd have been in her teens then, and if she'd looked anything like the way her daughters looked now... "Sorry?"
Frederica laughed softly. Men's thoughts were always drifting away in her presence. She was well used to staring eyes and glazed expressions. "I said chance would be a fine thing, Doctor. I couldn't possibly afford to take a holiday. It's not the money, so much — although I hate to think what the cost of a fortnight in the Aegean would be for myself and the girls — I just can't afford the time. I've got projects stacked up to here."
She indicated where with a small, capable hand. Apparently she had projects stacked up to just above her nipples. Even through her pure white T-shirt and dark blue bra, those nipples stood out like wine corks. They had to be some of the longest and thickest Dr Wallace had ever seen.
The sight of them took him back to ... when was it? '66? '67? Mr Tambourine Man ... Flowers in the Rain ... what was that nurse's name? The big one with the shaggy armpits from Pontrhydfendigaid who filled a flowery kaftan with tits all the way down to her tropical rain forest of a crotch. Nipples like champagne corks sticking out at the level of her hips, for crying out loud. Nurse Williams. Her voice came to him, silvery with a ridiculous accent, 'I'm jess sitten' watchen' flowairs in the rrrrain, Watchin' the pow-air of the rrrrain, Makin' the garden grrrrow...'
Nurse Williams. And her two fearsome brothers, Eifion and Euian...
He squirmed behind his desk. It had been a mistake wearing these silk boxer shorts this morning. They had been an anonymous Christmas present from one of his well-to-do female patients. Right now, they had slithered into a position where they threatened to separate one of his testicles from its sac, and his stormingly rampant erection made it impossible to adjust things without taking his trousers down. Frederica would probably not be favourably impressed if he did that.
"And even if I could find the time to get away, it would hardly be a holiday for me, would it? Not with two strappingly healthy teenage girls to look after."
"Two?" Dr Wallace consulted his notes. "You've got three girls, surely?"
"Aph wouldn't be able to come. Not with all the babies and kids and things. But she's no problem, she's got her teacher taking care of her, and they've got a Swedish nanny who comes in and takes care of things."
Dr Wallace did his best to erase the image of a seven-foot tall Nordic goddess taking care of things. He was left with the mental picture of Frederica's eldest (but still teenaged) daughter Aphrodite, already the mother of six children between the ages of eight and nothing at all.
"No, Aphrodite's okay. It's Bambi and Callista that worry me."
They would have worried Dr Wallace, too. He had managed to slip a hand beneath the desk and was trying to liberate his member, trapped down one trouser leg. If only he could get it around to the vertical, things would be much easier. This zipper was so ... damned ... tight. This whole consultation was becoming one of those farcical situations he liked to read about in big-breasted smut stories — when he could find them.
Frederica was still talking. Nothing much seemed to stop her. "Have you seen those two recently? If they appeared in public in swimsuits, they'd get themselves locked up in a Greek jail and the key thrown away."
Dr Wallace groaned.
"Are you all right, Doctor? It is rather warm in here. I suppose you have to keep the temperature up because of all those patients coming in with colds and flu, but even so..." Frederica fanned her face with a handkerchief.
"I'll open the win..." Dr Wallace was half out of his chair when he realised his mistake. The good news was that the sudden movement released his cock from its cramped quarters, allowing it to spring into a far more natural upward-pointing attitude. The not-so-good news was that it found its way out into the open air. He clutched at himself and sat down. Just in time. The patient hadn't seen anything, mercifully...
"Young Bambi's frighteningly developed," she continued. "I know I'm big, but she's simply staggering! I mean, the two youngsters have been wearing custom-made bras virtually since they started growing. They grew so big, so fast, while they were still little girls, really. But it didn't stop. Bambi's like an hourglass gone crazy. Although she wouldn't be much use as an hourglass, come to think of it; her top half would hold three times as much sand as the bottom..."
Dr Wallace slammed down into his chair, both hands wrapped round his groin. The good news was that he could now start sorting things out down below without attracting unwelcome attention from the patient, who was prattling on, apparently oblivious to the fact that he'd still not opened the window and he was sitting down again. The bad news was that he was still going to have to get up some time, and try again. He wriggled lower in the chair, stretching his legs out straight in front of him. His expression had become simultanously vacant and engaged, like a public toilet door with a broken lock.
"It's a pity in a way about young Callista. She put on a lot of weight before she was twelve. Then it started going away. But then it all came back again. We thought it was just puppy fat, and anyway, it helped in disguising the size of her ... you know ... which were simply enormous. Puppy fat's supposed to go away. It hasn't yet, although she's got plenty of time, I suppose, being only ... are you okay, Doctor?"
He slid the zipper down half an inch again, releasing the trapped skin of his shaft. "Yes, do go on."
"Where was I?"
Sweat broke out anew on the doctor's brow. "Young Callista's puppy fat."
"Oh, right! Well, as I say, she piled on the pounds, and she hasn't really stopped. I suppose I ought to bring her in for you to have a look at her, but you know how it is with young girls, she might get the wrong idea about herself and start some ridiculous diet. I mean, she's big, but she's not fat. Not really, anyway. Just plump, really. And her bust is still almost in proportion. Well, when I say it's in proportion, I don't mean it's in proportion, I mean it's vast, but with her being so big elsewhere, it doesn't show. Well, it shows, but not too much. Not really. Poor Callie!"
Dr Wallace considered suggesting that it might be an idea for him to examine the girls anyway, as he hadn't seen them for quite a while, and especially in view of his being a kind of unofficial specialist in the field of large breasts. Unfortunately, he had other things on his hands. But at least, the zipper was moving more freely now, his erection having dwindled a few millimetres following the recent unhappy occurrence. Under cover of the desk, he began inching it closed.
"You know, you're right, Doctor! I'm being selfish. There's no point in my earning all this money if I'm not going to be around to spend it. And the girls deserve a holiday." She began gathering herself together. "I'm sorry I took up so much of your time, but it was worth it in the end. Doctor, thank you!" She stood up, hesitated a moment, then offered her hand.
Dr Wallace was nothing if not a gentleman. He had no option but to get to his feet and say goodbye to his patient. After all, now she had stood up, her face was somewhere out of sight behind her formidable breasts. He scrambled to his feet. Several things happened in quick succession. His erection recovered from its temporary lapse. His now free-running zipper slid downwards. He found himself liberated. He rose towards the vertical, in more senses than one, grasping Frederica's hand warmly with his right hand and struggling to stuff himself away with the left. The good news was that all the action was taking place out of Frederica's line of sight, below her bust. The bad news was that release finally came to Dr Wallace and he spilled his seed, bigtime. Fortunately, most of it went on the carpet. Unfortunately, some of it splattered on Frederica's mini-skirt.
With pain etched on his aging features, he watched Frederica's departing backside, then he slumped into his chair and called the receptionist.
"No more patients for twenty minutes, Nurse," he gasped, mopping his brow. He still hadn't opened the window.
"A holiday? Mum! What for?" Callista didn't seem too enthralled with the idea.
"Why do people normally go on holiday? They relax, enjoy the sunshine, lie on the beach, eat ice cream, make sand castles..."
"Why would I want to make sand castles? And I don't like the sun. It's not healthy. They're always telling you that on television."
"You don't have to lie out in it all day. Just a little while. We can go swimming in the sea..."
"I don't like swimming. I don't like the beach. The sea's full of floating shit, and the beach is all sand and boys from Swindon."
Fred gaped at her. Odd, that. She thought she'd just been unlucky; meeting boys from Swindon every time she went on holiday. "I bet Bambi will want to come. Bambi knows how to relax and enjoy herself."
"So do I, and it doesn't involve lying on a towel surrounded by loud-mouthed boys playing football."
"You could bring a boyfriend," Fred suggested.
Callista turned scarlet. "A boyfriend? I hate boys. They're all the same. They only want one thing!"
Fred hid her face in the fridge. The girl mustn't see her mother trying not to laugh. It wasn't funny, anyway: Callista and her older sisters had been sexually active from the time their figures first started developing, which in Callista's case was long before she was even in sight of her teens. There had been no way Fred could have stopped them doing it, so she had bowed to the inevitable and talked to the girls. It had been the same when Frederica herself had started becoming attractive to boys. Her mother had realised that her little girl's mountainous bosom could not be denied. It was an unavoidable fact of nature. So she had given little Fred a lecture and let her get on with it.
"What are you laughing at?" Callista said sternly.
"I'm not laughing!"
"You are. You always dive into the fridge when you get the giggles."
Fred emerged, trying to keep her face straight. It was the irony of it that appealed to her. Her own mother had allowed her such freedom, yet her mother had been deeply indignant when she had discovered that Fred's daughters were 'seeing' boys, as she put it. Perhaps she'd been right; Aphrodite had started a family at an inadvisably tender age, and she was still popping them out at a rate slightly in excess of one a year, regular as clockwork. The two younger ones had avoided this fate, but Fred's mother never failed to offer dark warnings about what might happen to big-breasted young girls who spent too much time on their backs. Or any other position, for that matter.
They're big-breasted, all right, Fred thought. Aphrodite had been about Fred's size all along, although the constant pregnancy and lactation had more or less destroyed her figure. Bambi had always been the one with the hourglass figure, and her bust far exceeded Fred's in size and firmness. Callista was having problems, though. That was probably why she didn't fancy lounging on the beach. Callista didn't really have the shape for a bikini, after all. In her school uniform, worn with the white shirt hanging outside the microscopically short skirt, she could disguise her bulk somewhat, but in a bikini she would expose rolls of belly fat and a noticeably shameful backside. True, the child's awesomely Himalayan breasts drew some of the attention away from her plumpness, but no, she was right; Callista didn't have the figure for sunbathing.
"You don't have to sit on the beach all day, dear. We can go for nice walks, the three of us. Or hire a car and go up in the mountains where it's cool."
"It's cool enough here," Callista pointed out. "Why do we have to go all the way to the Greek islands where it's hot, just so we can drive for miles to find somewhere where it isn't? When are we going, anyway?"
"Two weeks' time." Fred hugged her youngest daughter. "Oh, sweetheart! You'll enjoy it, I know you will. You can have lots of new clothes to go away with, shorts and things. We'll have a new swimsuit made for you, any colour and style you like, and..."
"Will I be able to run my VirtuGasm in the hotel?"
"Of course. You can take one of those adapters that plug into the wall."
The girl was deeply attached to her electronic virtual orgasm generator. Fred had tried one once, but found it strangely impersonal. Not at all like the real thing. To Callista, it was the real thing. Talking about it was obviously making her restless. She began sidling towards the door, touching herself. "I'd better get on with my homework," she improvised. Then she stopped, staring at her mother, and a grin broke out on her cute face. "Mummy! You've got a great big blob of cum on your skirt!"
Bambi turned her machine off and slid it back into its box. Hers was the version 3.0 VirtuGasm, almost the same as a VirtuGasm Lite. Another version, VirtuGasm Express, had appeared only briefly on the market before being withdrawn, as it were. There was a knock on the bedroom door.
"Have you finished, Bam?"
"Come in, Callie."
Bambi watched as Callista wandered in and did her usual slow lap of inspection.
"Where did you get these?"
"Millets. They're boys jeans. Boys jeans are tighter round the hips. Don't you dare try them on!"
"I wasn't going to. They're horrible. Is this your new bra? Cool!"
"Don't try that on either." Bambi blushed as she said it. Callista's unsupported bust was immense beneath that after-school T-shirt she was wearing.
"Oh, go on, let me!" The younger girl's eyes sparkled. "How much too small is it for me?"
"It's my size. Miss Twizzell doesn't give them cup sizes any more."
"Pity. You could always wind the girls up at school, telling them you wear a T-cup or whatever."
"It's not a T," Bambi blurted. "It's a V!"
Callista grinned. Bambi fell for it every time. "Did Miss Twizzell tell you what your measurements were?"
"Yes."
"Okay, don't tell me then. See if I care." Callista was off on the prowl again. "I know what they are anyway. You've got to be a fifty-four bust, right?" Bambi's expression confirmed the educated guess. "And your waist can't be any more than eighteen? Wow, Bam, you're three times as big in the bust as round the middle! I never ask her what my measurements are. Not now I'm fat like this. Maybe it's just as well I am fat. Imagine how I'd look with tits this size if I was skinny like you!" She took a deep breath and turned sideways, silhouetted against the window.
Bambi imagined it. Despite her recent workout with the VirtuGasm, the thought of it made her horny. Poor Callie! But then again, if Callista did ever happen to lose her puppy fat while retaining even half of her bust size, she'd never be able to stand up. The kid's tits were immense! They stood out at least a foot in front of her, and they came down to way below where her waist would have been if she still had one. And as for her nipples...
The girl tired of holding her breath, and wandered to the dressing table. "Why d'you carry on using this old thing?" She rattled the VirtuGasm in its luridly-coloured but battered carton.
Bambi sprang to the defence of her virtual lover. "There's nothing wrong with it! It works."
"Yeah, it works. So would a candle. Why don't you get a Version 5? Mine's great. It does all those things this one doesn't do. You could borrow mine one night..."
"I don't want to borrow yours. That one works just fine for me. If I want the feeling of someone sticking a finger up my arse, I'll do it myself."
Callista giggled. "It's not just a finger up your bum, Bam! It's all the other things it's doing to you at the same time. You need to get undressed to use all the features, but even in Office Mode, it still makes this one look like something from the twentieth century. And in bed, naked; wow! When you've got the mini-headset on, and the nipple cups, as well as the pants; shit, man!
Bambi blushed. She'd listened to her kid sister through the bedroom wall. In fact, it was the thought that she herself might howl as loudly and with such abandon as Callista that discouraged her from trying the Version 5. There were some things a girl liked to keep to herself, rather than sharing her orgasms with the entire street.
Callista turned the box over in her hands. "Maybe we could swap one night. It might be interesting, trying this old thing just for a change." She looked more closely. "What's this you've written on here?"
"Give it me back. It's not yours."
"I want to see!" She turned the box the other way up. "Mar ... Marco? Marco Bertolucci? You've written Marco's name on the box! Is that who you dream about when you're using it?"
"No! Of course not. Give it back!"
"Marco did have a big one. Nowhere near as big as my boyfriend's, but still big. Dicker's was like ... this much bigger than Marco's. Dicker's was like a Version 5!"
"Callie, stop it!" Bambi was close to tears. It was bad enough being the girl with the second biggest tits in school; having a outrageous, staggering figure like hers but no boyfriend was a shameful, shameful thing. Bambi was so busty she scared the boys away. Even Marco and Dicker kept their distance now.
"We're going on holiday," Callista said suddenly. She had completed her lap of the course and now perched her bottom on the window sill, darkening the whole room.
"Holiday? When? Where?"
"Two weeks. As soon as school's finished. Mum says we're going to Greece. One of those islands. She's getting me some new clothes. You too, probably. And she says my VirtuGasm will work on Greek electricity. You could get a Version 5 and bring it..."
"I don't want a fucking Version 5, Callista!"
Callista opened her eyes wide. "There's no need to swear, Bambi. Hey, maybe there'll be boys there. Mum says we'll have a separate room. We could fuck!"
"Separate from each other, or just from her."
"Whatever. We've done it in the same room before. The boys won't mind us sharing." Her voice fell to a whisper. "We might even find a Greek one!"
"Greek boys? In Greece?"
But the thought of boys, any boys, was making Bambi moist. She stood up abruptly and paced round the bedroom. "I've got homework, Callie. History..."
"Okay!" Callista plodded to the door. "I'll leave you to it. Later!"
As the door closed, there was the familiar pounding of Callista's footsteps as she shot back into her own room. Seconds later, Bambi heard the slam of the drawer as her young sister brought out her Version 5 VirtuGasm. Bambi smiled to herself. She had boyfriend problems, but she wasn't the only one.
"It's no good! How can anyone sleep with all that racket going on?"
Bambi turned over in her single bed and watched her sister get up and slouch across to the door leading on to the balcony. She stood there in the moonlight, looking out over the calm sea. The only sounds were the gentle lap of water on the sand, the murmuring of the insects in the trees, and Callista's heavy breathing.
Another wail split the air and Callista turned round, the shadow of her vast young breasts swaying in a ponderous semicircle. "Oh, Mother, for God's sake keep it down!" she muttered. "Honestly, grown-ups are so embarrassing when they try to fuck!"
"She's no louder than you," said Bambi.
"I don't fuck, remember?" Callista reminded her bitterly. "Three nights we've been on this desert island and we haven't had a sniff of action yet." She jerked her thumb at the thin wall separating them from their howling parent. "She's getting it all! It's disgusting!"
"We'll find some boys tomorrow," Bambi promised. "The nice man at the bar said there's another boatload coming in."
"Boys! I don't want boys. I just want a good stiff cock. Or preferably an adapter that fits this plug!" Viciously, she kicked the wall beside the power outlet, then retired cursing and sobbing, trying to repair her injured toe. Her breasts got in the way.
"Come here, Callie," Bambi soothed her. "Let me kiss it better." Callista sniffed dismissively, then thought better of it and meandered over to Bambi's bed. She sighed as her older sister caressed her foot in cool hands. Bambi drew the line at sucking Callista's toes. "You could use my 'Gasm tomorrow if we buy some more batteries. Would you like that?"
"I want to use mine. Why won't the plug fit? Why can't these things be standard sizes?" She rolled on to her back and applied a hand to her crotch for the fortieth time that night. In the next room, their mother screamed like a stuck pig. Her boyfriend must have been wearing ear defenders.
"How about those two?" Bambi nudged her sister and whispered.
Callista took a look. "You cradle-snatcher! They can't be any more than fourteen!"
Bambi thought of reminding Callista that the boys were still older than her, but she changed her mind. The two boys did look rather immature.
"Their dad's not so bad." The family was standing at the top edge of the beach, arms akimbo, looking for somewhere to sit.
"Callie!"
"He's looking at us."
"Don't stare at him like that, Callie!"
"No wonder he's looking at us," Callista whispered out of the side of her mouth. "His wife's flat as an ironing board."
"Shit, they're coming over here." Bambi wrapped her monster beach towel round her shoulders and hunched up to hide her figure. As if.
Callista was lying on her belly, sheltering beneath the beach umbrella, wearing a white T-shirt and her new shorts. In this position, her shape was largely disguised. "I could," she confided. "You can have the boys, and I'll have the dad."
"You're disgusting!" Bambi smiled tightly at the family and picked up her book. But she found she couldn't read it with her sun-glasses on and she couldn't spy on the new arrivals with them off. She put the book down again and stared out to sea, shading her eyes with her hand as if she were posing for a 1950's edition of Health and Efficiency. With a bikini on, of course. And a monster beach towel. She sneaked a quick glance. The boys were clamouring for ice cream. The man appeared to be staring at Callista, who was certainly giving him the treatment. The woman was glaring at the two girls for daring to exist. Obviously her husband had a record of fancying other women. Come to think of it, he wasn't bad looking. But after three days, even the two teenage boys were starting to look edible to Bambi.
Callista rolled on to one elbow, pretending to rummage in her bag for something. The man's eyes came out on stalks. She intensified her search, allowing her torso to shake a little. A little, in Callista's case, meant that her breasts were swaying and flopping six inches to either side, barely restrained by the T-shirt. The man was almost panting. The boys' insistence on ice cream grew louder.
Their mother snapped crossly. "For goodness sake, Harold, give them some money! We should never have come."
She sounded as if she'd never come in her life.
Callista had evidently found what she was looking for, a family size bottle of sun cream. She shook it vigorously, with predictable effects on her upper regions.
"It's too hot," the woman complained. "Why can't we sit where there's some shade?"
"There isn't any shade," her Harold pointed out. "This is a beach."
"I want an umbrella. Like that one. You can hire them."
"This was the last one," said Callista unexpectedly. The woman's eyebrows shot up at this interruption.
"Find us one, Harold!"
"I don't need one. I didn't pay a thousand quid to go on the beach and hide from the sun. If you want an umbrella, go and see the boys and get them to find one for you."
"I will!" This threat from the woman made no impact on her Harold at all. He continued staring at Callista, who was applying cream to the tip of her nose with a dainty finger. Snorting with outrage, the woman stood up, brushed imaginary grains of sand off her negligible rump and stalked off along the beach, picking her way between happy holidaymakers as if they were so many turds.
Callista bestowed a dazzling smile on Harold. "Hot, isn't it!"
"Erm ... yes."
"Lovely view, though!" Callista rolled on to her back and supported herself on both elbows, her breasts rolling outwards like bags of melted butter inside her T-shirt. She was now at the extreme edge of her towel, with her right shoulder only half a yard or so from Harold. She brought up her left knee until the fleshy thigh squashed against her mammoth bust. "I could look at it for hours," she sighed dreamily, and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
"S-so could I."
Bambi was feeling ill. That was always the trouble with Callista, she simply didn't know when to stop. Okay, this Harold seemed to be an admirer of the fuller figure. Why couldn't Callista just let him look? She didn't have to thrust her tits right in his face while carrying on a conversation riddled with innuendo. It was time fore direct action.
"Hello," said Bambi. "We haven't been introduced."
This was perfectly true. Harold was startled, and even Callista was taken aback.
"I'm Bambi and this is my younger sister, Callista. She's only... ouch!" Bambi bent to rub her shin where Callista's well-aimed accidental kick had caught her.
"We're here for a fortnight," Callista continued smoothly. "Do you know, we've been here three days already and we haven't really met anybody yet. Not really met them." She glanced around conspiratorially. "You wouldn't mind ... I mean if you're not doing anything else ... could you ... kind of ... rub some cream on for me? Just in the places where I can't reach? Please?"
"C-cream?" Harold's voice rose to a frightened squeak. "Rub? Where?"
"Here, of course. We don't want to go back to our apartment to do it, do we? We're staying just up there." She pointed accurately to the apartment block, making sure Harold could see where it was.
"We're staying with our mother," Bambi interjected. "She'd be about your age, I suppose."
"Bambi was just going for some ice cream, weren't you, Bambi? Bring me one. And one for Mr Harold, too. Rubbing cream on me will make him ever so hot."
To her amazement, Bambi found herself standing up, fishing for money in her beach bag. The towel fell off her shoulders and a gasp exploded from all the onlookers within twenty yards. Harold's eyes widened still further and Bambi grabbed for her towel again. A young teen with a 54-18-35 figure has to be careful how much she shows on a public beach.
"Thanks, Bam," Callista drawled lazily. She crossed her arms and started pulling her up T-shirt. "Is it okay to go topless on this beach?" she enquired. "Oh, what the hell! One pair of tits is just like any other!" And following ten seconds of billowing action, Callista was kneeling before Harold, unveiled from the waist upwards.
Bambi, fifty-four inch bust or not, knew when she was hopelessly outclassed and totally outgunned. She wasn't even remotely in the same league as Callista, who had expertly adopted a pose in which her breasts entirely hid the rest of her body. Wrapping her towel around her, Bambi retreated in the direction of the apartment. The ice cream money she held in her hot little hand would just buy her some new batteries.
Bambi heard the door slam, and a few seconds later Callista came in and slumped on her bed. "Shit," she said. "Shit, shit, shit! And crap."
"What happened?"
"She came back. With the boys. They didn't find an umbrella. I told them we'd got the last one."
"What did she say?"
"Not a lot. She couldn't say much, could she? I'd got her Harold rubbing my back by then. I was lying on my tummy and he was just rubbing the last of the cream on my bum."
"Your bum?"
"It needed doing. We'd done my boobs, and they took nearly the whole bottle. He was pretty good once he got going. But once she came back he lost his touch. They started arguing, so I got dressed, stuffed all our gear in the bag and came home. She ought to be happy now, she's got an umbrella, at least. Miserable bitch." She was silent for a while, thinking, then she suddenly snorted with laughter. "Those poor boys, having to put up with a mum like her! They're called David and Jonathan."
"No worse than Callista and Bambi, I suppose," Bambi grinned. "Wait a minute. How did you find out their names?"
"Once their mum started on at Harold, they wanted to get away, so they followed me. David carried the bag and Jonathan brought the towel. They're sweet, really. You'll like them."
"Like them?"
"They're just fetching some ice cream then they're coming up here." Callista prowled restlessly to the window. "Here they come now. I told them to come straight up. So you've got a choice."
"A choice?" Bambi dithered and flapped her hands. "Between David and Jonathan?"
"Yeah. But the main choice you've got is whether to let them see you like that or with your clothes on."
"Oh, shit, I forgot. It's so hot in here..."
"I shouldn't worry. They said they were watching you when you walked off the beach. You made quite an impression, even wrapped in a towel. And they know how big I am. They take after their dad. They like big tits; the bigger, the better!"
"They told you all that in a hundred yards?" Bambi was struggling into a pair of shorts.
"No, but I can tell when a boy fancies me. Are you going to hide that VirtuGasm or let the boys play with it?"
"Eeek!" Bambi thrust the box in the drawer and forced a T-shirt over her breasts. They didn't want to fit inside and once they were in there they started trying to get out. "How do I look?"
"Are you wearing those shorts or eating them?"
Bambi bleated in panic and plucked at her already saturated crotch. "Is that better?"
"Depends what you mean by better. He-hee! You're sopping wet, Bam!"
"Oh, no! I haven't got another pair..."
"It won't matter. I'll just tell them you've pissed yourself."
"Callie! No!"
The knock on the door was tentative, as if David and Jonathan couldn't quite believe their luck.
"Come iii-in!" Callista sang. "We're up here...!"
The boys came in, looking round like tourists, their scared eyes finally settling on the girls sitting side by side on the edge of Bambi's bed. The brothers each had two ice creams, one in each hand. They thrust them at the girls who accepted them politely.
"Come here, David," Callista patted the bed beside her. "Come and sit with me. Jonathan's older," she explained to her sister. "He can be your friend."
"Is she older than you?" Jonathan asked Callista, with a panic-stricken scan of the two sisters' awesome bosoms.
"Only a year and a half."
"But your..."
"My tits are bigger? Don't worry about it! Mine are bigger than just about anybody's."
"We've never..." David started.
"He means most of our girlfriends are younger than you," Jonathan translated freely.
"That just shows how much he knows," Callista muttered, leading the younger boy past her bed to the balcony. "We've got a lovely view of the beach from here. Do you want to wave to your mum and dad? That's their umbrella down there..."
"No!" David scurried back into the room. "They'd go ape-shit if they knew we were up here."
"It's okay. We won't tell them, will we, Bam?" And she reclined on her bed, pulling the much lighter boy on top of her, where he floated like a leaf on the ocean of her bust. "Do you know about kissing, David?"
"A little bit."
"Show me how much."
David showed her. It wasn't much.
Callista took over.
The other couple watched them open-mouthed.
Finally, Bambi shrugged. "Do you know about kissing, Jonathan?" It was her sister's line, but it had worked okay for her.
"Not really," the boy admitted sadly.
"Never mind. I'll show you how."
"It wasn't my fault," Callista protested. "I didn't know he was going to be as small as that."
"You must have. I know you. You picked the one with the biggest cock and gave me the other one."
"You know size doesn't matter, Bam. Anyway, you did it, didn't you?"
"Once, yeah. For about ten seconds, then he fell asleep."
"You looked ever so sweet, cuddling him like a baby..."
"It felt nice," Bambi admitted. "He was all tiny and helpless."
"You'd never have thought they were brothers. David was nearly as long as Dicker. Not as thick, but not bad for his age. He's only as old as me! And he came gallons. Three times!" Callista lay back dreamily and ran her hands across the broad acres of her tits. "I rubbed it all in, every last drop! Did you rub Jonathan's into your tits, too?"
"Of course not," said Bambi uncomfortably. "He did it inside me."
Her sister wagged a reproving finger. "Mum told you to be careful."
"He's only a kid, Cal. Besides, my period's next week."
"That's what I mean. Anyway, it's only right that I should have had the boy with the biggest tool. You've got a VirtuGasm that works." She was silent for a while. "I feel just the way it feels when I've got the Version 5 nipple cups on. My tits are almost throbbing!"
Bambi had never lived the Version 5 experience. "It's not worth the extra money for a pair of nipple cups and a couple of extra probes. That's all bullshit. And mine works on batteries!"
"I don't really need mine right now. I've got David!"
"No you haven't. He's gone."
"He's coming back tonight. He's going to get his brother to let him out and let him back in again first thing in the morning."
Bambi sat bolt upright. "What? What about me?"
"But you've got your machine, Bam!"
Bambi crept out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Her mother looked disgustingly fit, sipping freshly squeezed orange juice as she applied lipstick to her areolae. "Morning, dear! Help yourself to juice. Where's Callie this morning? She did come home last night?"
"You mean you didn't hear her?" Bambi yawned. "Every five minutes, she was howling like a lovesick wolf. I didn't get a wink of sleep. She's snoring like a pig now."
"Bless her. So she got an adapter for her VirtuGasm at last? I'm glad she's got it working."
"VirtuGasm? She had her boyfriend in there all night.
"Boyfriend? Callista? Who is it?"
"Some boy we met down on the beach. He's gone now. I've never heard a boy like him. He just kept on coming. He's tired me out, so I don't know what he's done to Callie."
"I hope she took precautions, that's all. You know what you young girls are like, you do it first and ask questions later."
"I doubt if they were all that careful, Mum. There aren't enough precautions on the whole island, the way those two were banging away. They'd have gone through dozens of the things."
"Don't exaggerate, Bambi."
"I'm not! After she'd woken me up the first time, I couldn't get back to sleep again, so I started keeping score. Look at this." She produced a piece of paper covered in pencil marks. There were four strokes, with a fifth stroke crossing them out. This same symbol was repeated all over the sheet, in an increasingly haggard scrawl. "Each one of those is five times!"
Fred passed a hand over her brow. Her youngest and most busty daughter, beloved fruit of her loins, was utterly insatiable. The thought was strangely arousing. She felt mingled admiration and pity for the boyfriend.
"You'd better go in and wake her up. She can't stay in bed all day."
"I wish I could," said Bambi. "But I couldn't sleep in there with her lying on her back snoring like a foghorn. And even with the balcony door wide open it stinks of cum and pussy."
"Bambi, please!" Fred put down her toast. "Go in and wake her up now. Tell her I'll make you both something nice for breakfast."
Bambi re-entered the bedroom, waving a book in front of her nose. Callista was sprawled on her bed, her legs tangled in a rumpled sheet.
"Callie?" She pulled at the sheet, managing to uncover part of her sister's bum.
"Mmmnff. FFmfllph," Callie protested, farted and burrowed beneath her sheet again.
"Callie, wake up!"
"David! Not again..."
"It's not David, it's me."
"Put it between my tits this time..."
"Callista!"
The girl stiffened and rolled over on to her back. Two big eyes opened then screwed themselves closed again. "Oh, shit! What time is it? Where am I?" With a look of panic she began searching under the sheet for something or someone.
"It's morning. David's gone. Mum's making breakfast."
Callie sat up and stretched. Then a faraway expression came into her face and she inched the sheet down to look underneath.
"He's gone home, Callie."
"I wasn't looking for him. I was looking at ... something else."
"It stinks in here. And the bed's soaked with cum and pussy juice." Bambi tried to pull the sheet right off, but her sister grabbed it and hung on tight.
"You mustn't. I don't want Mum to see..."
"See what? Come on, get your fat smelly arse out of bed and have a shower."
"No! Is she in the kitchen?"
"Of course she is."
"Have a look at this, Bambi. See if you think the same thing I do."
"What are you talking about? You were fucking all night long, keeping me awake. I doubt if Mum will be best pleased. You're only..."
"Never mind how young I am. Look at this." She pulled the top of the sheet down, revealing the first foot or so of her cleavage.
"Oh, that's disgusting, Callie. Your tits are covered in dried cum!"
Another six inches came into view.
"I don't want to see. You've got to have a shower before Mum sees that mess."
Another three inches.
"Callie?"
Three more.
"Callie, what's been happening? Show me properly. Show me all of them."
"Don't tell Mum..."
"I won't. just take the sheet off and show me what's happened."
Callista did as she was told.
"Callie! I'm going to get Mum!"
"No! You promised!"
"What's ... happened to them?"
"They're bigger."
"I can see that. Why? Tits don't get bigger overnight. Not that much bigger anyway."
"Mine have. Never mind why, they just have, that's all."
"You've got to let Mum see them."
"No, they might get smaller again. Maybe it's all that sex that made them grow. If I have a cold shower, they might go down. Tell Mum I'm having a shower..."
"Go on, then, get up."
"Not 'til you've gone."
"Oh, come on, Callie. We've seen each other nude before thousands of times."
"Not like this you haven't."
"Callie. I'll tell Mum you're getting up, but you've got to let me in on the secret. Get up and let me see them properly. Maybe I can help..."
Callista crawled out of the other side of the bed and slowly straightened up.
"Fucking hell, Callista!" Bambi began to giggle.
"What are you laughing at?"
"They're fucking gigantic! I mean, they've always been vast, but they must be hanging six inches lower than they were yesterday. And they're so full!" She advanced and jabbed one with a stiff finger.
"Ouch, you pig!"
"It's so firm! And look at the bits round your nips."
"Oh, very funny, Bambi! How am I supposed to see right down there?"
"There's a mirror in the bathroom. I tell you what, Cal, if those things look big from where you are, you ought to see them from here!"
Callista bent over to try and see her nipples. The monster globes bounced against her thighs and slapped together audibly like applause. Then wide-eyed with fright, she set off for the bathroom. By the time Bambi arrived and squeezed herself into the confined space, Callista was staring in the mirror, in tears.
"I'm enormous, Bam!"
"You always were."
"Yeah, I know, but now look at me!"
"I am, I am!"
Bambi was, she was. Callista's breasts were hypnotic.
"They make the rest of you look smaller, Cal." She was standing behind her sister, looking over her shoulder in the mirror. The reflections of their two scared faces were close together, thinking the unthinkable. Bambi ran her hands down her sister's broad and fleshy back. "I think your waist is a bit smaller, you know."
"As if it mattered. I can't go anywhere looking like this. What can I wear?"
"It's okay. You could still get them into an extra large T-shirt. An extra large extra large one, anyway. And if you tuck it into your shorts, your tits won't fall out of the bottom. Well, probably not. Not quite."
"How big am I?"
"You can see how big you are, Cal."
"No, I mean in inches. Oh, what's the use? I didn't know how big I was before, so what does it matter how big I am now? I wonder how big I am now, though?"
"We can measure them later if you really want to know. Have a shower first. They might go down a bit. Besides, you don't smell very nice. How many times did you do it?"
"How would I know? Weren't you keeping count?"
"The cold water's made them a bit smaller, Callie," Bambi encouraged her. "I knew it would."
"They don't look any smaller. They don't feel any smaller. Did you find me a big shirt?"
"This one's the biggest you've got." Bambi had spread a T-shirt out on the bed. It must have been designed as a joke. Nobody needed a shirt that size. She gave it to her sister who was walking with great care, trying not to wobble. "A bra would help, Cal."
"If I could get these things into a bra, it would only hold them up. If I'm going to disguise them, I'll have to let them dangle. Maybe if I put a big sweater on over the top..."
"Cal, it's about a thousand degrees out there!" She watched as Callista sat on the bed and wriggled into her shorts. It was always a fascinating spectacle but this morning it was even more so. Her breasts rested on her thighs, great rippling masses of flesh. "You can't let them dangle, Callie! You won't be able to walk. You're going to have to wear your bra. Pretend your period's nearly due or something."
"That's another problem. I'm going to start getting bigger anyway in a couple of days. You know how huge I get at that time of the month. If I get that much bigger this month I'll explode!"
"No you won't. Your bra might explode, but your tits won't. Put your bra on, Callie. I've got a sneaking suspicion Mum's going to notice them anyway. You can't hide from her for the rest of the holidays, and I tell you, those things are too big to hide, whatever you wear."
Callista's shoulders drooped. "Wow, thanks, Sis!" she said gloomily. "That really does wonders for a girl's self-esteem. Pass me my bra, then. The black one's probably the biggest."
Bambi flung open the top drawer and fished out the black bra. It was an immense thing, with reassuringly huge cups that looked big enough to contain soccer balls. "Maybe it will fit okay," she said hopefully as she tossed it over. Callista caught it and looped it around her back, then spun it round so the hooks were at the front. Her movements were practised and expert; those of a girl who had worn extremely large bras since she had been ten years old. But as she fumbled between her heavy breasts for the fastenings, she looked altogether less accomplished. Red-faced and panting, she complained that she couldn't see what she was doing. "All these hooks! I'll never get them done up. Help me, Bam."
It wasn't the right way to put a bra on, Bambi realised, biting her lip. Miss Twizzell had always taught the girls to lower their breasts into the cups first, then to fasten the hooks at the back once everything was safely contained. With Callista standing up and holding her hair out of the way, Bambi tried the approved method first. Once Callie's breasts were in the cups, the straps wouldn't meet at the back. No chance. There was a gap of at least six inches.
"We'll have to fasten it first then stuff your tits into the cups afterwards."
"Okay, let's just get on with it."
Bambi unloaded the cups again. This time, she was able to fasten the hooks easily. "Isn't it usually tighter than this round your chest, Cal?"
"Tighter than what? I can't see what you're doing round there."
"It's quite loose on the last set of hooks. Of course, it will be a different stoy once we try getting your tits into the cups again. But it's almost as if you've lost weight. A lot of weight."
"It feels as if I've gained twenty pounds of boob. Please, Bam, hurry up!"
Bambi shrugged. She'd thought it had been her sister's new development that was making her look so much slimmer everywhere else, but now she wasn't so sure. It wasn't possible, of course, but it looked as if the fat on her belly, her hips, her body generally, had somehow migrated to her bust. Overnight! Logic prevailed. Callista must have been gradually losing her puppy fat, without anyone noticing. After all, the kid had hardly been flaunting her figure these last few months.
The shoulder straps would need loosening off to let Callista hang lower. Bambi tugged at the fastenings, slackening them to the maximum. That ought to do it. If it didn't, tough shit; the girl would just have to bulge out over the top. "Here we go, then, Cal. Give me a hand..."
"Ouch, your nails...!"
Together they loaded the younger girl's right breast into its container, then Callista held the wobbling thing while Bambi stuffed the left cup as well. But even with the shoulder straps at their fullest extension, they had difficulty getting them up on to Callista's shoulders.
"You lift from underneath while I ... there! Now the other one... right, got it! How's that?"
"Great, except I can't breathe!"
"You'll get used to it! Now let's have a look at you. Turn round."
Callista obeyed ponderously.
"Bloody hell! You've got as much tit spilling out of your bra as I've got altogether!"
Callista blushed. "Don't exaggerate, Bambi."
"It's true. You're so huge!"
"I still can't breathe in here."
"Let's try something. Is that better?"
"A bit. What have you done?"
"It's what I've undone. I've undone the top hook. Try another."
"That's better, too." Callista tried a cautious breath. "One more?"
"We have to be careful, Cal. It's starting to creak a bit. Miss Twizzell put twelve hooks on this bra for a good reason. If nine had been enough, she'd have used nine. Besides, you've got far bigger tits than the bra was designed for."
"I can see that." Callista was peering down into her astounding cleavage. "I could keep the Yellow Pages in here. Just one more hook, Bam," she pleaded.
"Okay, but not yet. Let me borrow a couple of safety pins first..."
A pounding on the door. "What are you two kids up to in there? If you want any breakfast, come on out now."
"Just a minute, Mum!"
"What do you want for breakfast, anyway? I've got a date at..." Their mother flung the door open. "Callista! What on earth...?"
"Hi, Mum!"
"What happened? Your ... your bust!"
"It grew last night."
Fred was speechless. She opened her mouth a few times, wordlessly.
Bambi broke the silence. "Mum, when you've finished gawping at your youngest daughter's tits, have you got a couple of safety pins?"
"Stop staring at me, Mum!"
"I can't help it, dear. You're so huge."
"I know."
"She knows, Mother. Girls tend to notice these things."
"Anybody would notice those things," said Fred. "What are we going to do about them?"
"How about a new bra, for starters? This one's cutting me in half."
"I don't think we'll be able to get anything until we get home, dear. There isn't likely to be a branch of Discoveries on the island."
"Why not?" Callista pouted. "Don't Greek women wear bras?"
Fred shook her head sadly. "Not as big as us, Callie. Have you seen anyone else here with a bust as big as mine, even? Let alone Bambi's. Certainly not as big as yours was before last night. And absolutely not as big as you are now!"
"Whatever we do, that bra's not going to last much longer," said Bambi. "It's held together with safety pins. If that lot gets loose, it's going to hurt."
"What did you mean, 'do about them', Mum? You don't mean I'd have to have an operation?"
"She can't have a reduction, Mum. She's probably still growing."
"I wasn't thinking of a reduction. Not surgically, anyway."
"It's the only way there is."
"Not necessarily." Fred looked thoughtful. "There was something I once heard about, in fact, I even tried it for a short while when I was about Callista's age."
"You mean some kind of pills, or medicine?"
"Or a cream that you rub in? It wouldn't work, or we'd have heard of it before."
"It was on the Internet," said Fred. "Years ago, when it was newer than it is now. It might work. If it didn't, it wouldn't matter. There'd be no harm done. Callie, are you up for this?"
"Up for what? You haven't said what it is. I don't want to take pills every day. We couldn't get them here, anyway."
"It isn't pills. It's a bit like Bambi said, a sort of cream that you rub in. And we could get it here. In fact, you can get this stuff practically anywhere, and it costs nothing."
"She's off her head," said Bambi. "Don't listen to her, Cal."
"Can you get some of this stuff, Mum?"
"I could, but you could probably find a supply of your own, even easier than I could. All you need to do is have a quiet word with this boyfriend of yours..."
Bambi looked sceptical. "What else does she have to do? Whispering sweet nothings in David's ear isn't going to make that bra fit her again."
"It might. It's simple enough. All Callista has to do is to ... oh, it's so difficult to say it, girls. I can't believe I'm saying this to my own baby daughters..."
"Oh, come on, Mum! Look at us! Babies? What does Callie have to do? You'll be telling us next that she has to get David to come all over her tits!"
Callista started to interject: "But I've alre..." Then she realised there are some things a young girl doesn't admit to her own mother.
Fred's response stunned the girls.
"That's just what he has to do," she gasped. "He has to ejaculate on the breasts, then the fluid has to be rubbed well in until it is all absorbed."
Bambi rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "I've heard everything now. Our own mother telling us that rubbing cum into our tits will make them smaller."
"It can't do any harm to try it," said Fred.
"The girls at school always say it makes them bigger, not smaller," Bambi scoffed.
"That's an old wives' tale," said Fred. "This was on the Internet. Your Auntie Dawn told me about it."
"You'd better try it, then, Callie," Bambi's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Mother's miracle cure!"
"But I..."
"What she really needs, Mum, is a much bigger bra. There must be someone locally who can make her a new one. Or even just make the cups of this one bigger. Can't you have a word with your friend Stavros? He's a waiter, he's bound to know all the local women."
Fred's face was almost incandescent. "How do you know his name...?"
The girls just stared at her.
"Okay. I'll speak to him. As it happens, I'm seeing him this afternoon. Just promise me one thing, Callista. Get your David or whatever his name is to ... to do what we were just discussing. You promise?"
Callista sighed. "Okay. I promise."