Change for the Better

Georgina and I first met at University but for the first couple of years we barely spoke to each other and I only knew her by her surname. Indeed, it wasn't until our final year when our courses merged that I learned that she preferred to be known as Gina, so that's what I called her from thereon in.

I had admired her from afar so was delighted when our tutor had randomly chosen me (a shy boy) to work together with her on a final project as that meant I no longer needed to keep my admiration and lewd thoughts about Gina to myself. (She later confessed that she had been keeping a similar eye on me over our freshman years and had been disappointed that I had never made any approaches toward her.) So it was on the pretence of working together that we fell into a pleasant routine of late nights in the library followed by relaxing over a drink at the local pub before going our separate ways to bed. Our mutual attraction soon increased, and we got along together very well, so much so that by the end of the first week she thought maybe it would be a good idea to dispense with going to the pub but rather go to her student digs instead where we could work without interruptions. I found myself in complete agreement as I took my studies very seriously!

Our project was finished in a fortnight, but we managed to find other reasons to keep seeing each other during the rest of the term and our mutual affections blossomed into romance. It was obvious that we were meant to be with each other and so it proved. After graduation, we both found employment with reputable companies in the same city and there was no discussion that we should find ourselves a rented apartment where we could live together as man and wife.

For me, life couldn't have turned out better. I had a good job, as a customer-facing consultant, earning good money and I was living in a desirable part of town surrounded by nice neighbours; I had a beautiful, smart 'wife' who loved me (although she had a bit of a dominating nature)and she shared my passions and loved my big cock, what more could I wish for?

Well, there was one thing. I remember lying in bed one morning, reflecting on my good fortune, idly stroking my fat cock under the covers while watching Gina get ready for work. She didn't seem to mind me staring, as she zipped up her pencil skirt. I could feel my penis stiffening in my hand as she buttoned her white blouse, lifting her pale arms to expertly flip her blond hair over the collar, briefly showing a flash of white skin at her waist. Through her open shirt sleeve I caught a glimpse of the neat curve of her armpit and the slight swelling of her breast...

... and that's when I say, could I wish for anything more, for the 'slight swelling' was due to her breasts being not very big.

I had always since the onset of puberty had a breast fetish and my fantasies whenever I looked at the underwear pages in my mother's mail-order catalogues were always fixated on brassieres, the bigger the better. (I never did get caught out by my mother or questioned as to why some of those pages were inexplicably stuck together!) Anyway, as I say, it would have been nicer if Gina had been better endowed so that maybe my fantasies could have been made real.

So, as I lay in bed that morning, watching my 'hot wife' I consoled myself that she made up for the lack of chest inches by never refusing to satisfy my other desires and I reminded myself how lucky I was to have such an enthusiastic 'fuck buddy', and tried to steer my thoughts away from the one little imperfection in my otherwise perfect wife.

But the human mind is an unruly thing. The more I tried not to think about it, the more it consumed my thoughts. I reasoned with myself constantly, that she had really nice breasts, even if they weren't all that big; that she was great in bed, and, wow, could there be a nicer hairy pussy for me to push my ever-rampant cock into?

I had harboured thoughts about suggestions that some women get a second growth spurt in their twenties, maybe she might still grow a bit? Then I wondered about implants. They're not as nice as the natural ones, but better than nothing but, cost aside, could I find the courage to suggest such a thing without seeming shallow and selfish?

That question was quickly answered when we were watching some crass reality show on TV one evening and one of the 'celebrities', who was a similar height to Gina, clearly had enhanced her appearance by having had implants. I thought she looked magnificent and I casually mentioned that she didn't look at all bad and how they 'suited her body type quite well' and 'isn't it amazing what surgeons can do, these days?'

Gina knowing that I had this 'thing' about breasts was quick to recognise where I was going and she sighed theatrically, rolled her eyes and laughed, "You must be joking, I can't think of anything worse than having lumps of squishy lumps of silicon stuffed into my chest and then having to go and shop for a new wardrobe to wear, you can forget about that."

Clearly, that tactic wasn't going to work, and I had to accept that this was one thing I could not change, and my big tit fetish was going to have to be continued to be served by the internet.

Fast forward to the following summer when one lunchtime I found myself taking a stroll from my office in the city to the nearby 'Chinatown' area and browsing the menus of the restaurants and the displays of other business establishments. I found it all rather fascinating, not least by the displays in the windows of the various adult stores that proliferate the area. I was particularly intrigued by a place that claimed to be an Oriental pharmacy-with its big jars full of mysterious roots, dried seahorses and pickled snakes in the windows. What particularly caught my attention were the collections of dildoes and other items of dubious provenance on display which suggested that it wasn't just Chinese medicine on offer. However, even more intriguing was a sign written in big red letters which displayed a smirking lady with large breasts saying in a speech bubble, 'Make More Womanly with Emperor Tian Powder' suggesting that the powder was in some way responsible for her magnificent proportions. My kind of woman and without a second thought, I found myself walking in the shop where once my eyes had become accustomed to the gloomy interior I saw a tiny old man with thick glasses who was stacking boxes with quick efficient movements behind the counter. He gave me barely a glance and greeted me briskly without pausing in his work, "What you want?"

"I saw the sign on your window.. the one with red letters ... the picture of the lady..." I mumbled embarrassingly.

The old man gave me a shrewd squint, "Yeah, but what you want?"

"I want to know what does it do?"

He reached under the counter and pulled out a small metal tin and placed it on the counter.

"This make somebody more of a woman. Bigger breasts, more love in woman parts. Make person become much more woman. Become very sexy."

I picked up the tin and read the label, which had been written by someone whose first language was not English, it said 'Emperor Tian Lady Powder. Use lightly, massage on skin, one time only.'

I suspected that it must be a joke item, a worthless product despite what it said on the tin but with Gina's birthday coming up I figured it would provide a laugh when she opened her presents to go along with the lovely watch I'd already picked out. I mused, maybe she would even go along with the joke and try the stuff out and, who knows, maybe it might work! No harm in hoping, anyway.

The old man didn't share my suggestion that this was some kind of joke. Indeed, he was offended that I should have such thoughts and showed his displeasure at my sense of humour by asking that if I wanted to purchase the tin that I paid him an exorbitant sum, in cash. I was so embarrassed by my show of bad manners that although the price was high, I quickly paid up. He scooped the money from the counter and in an instant my money was in his apron pocket, and he disappeared leaving me to pick up the tin and conceal it in my pocket. My lunch hour was finished, and it was time for me to get back to the office to finish my workday.

My commute home was shorter than Gina's, so as usual I was home before her in the evening. I used the time to have a closer look at Emperor Tian's Powder and so I pried open the lid of the tin and looked inside. To my surprise It was nearly empty, containing a little less than a teaspoonful of pale powder at the bottom and my first thought was that it was indeed a joke and I had been well and truly caught out. Then a thought came to me that if the label was to be believed and that the powder was supposed to be rubbed onto a woman's body that it would do no harm if I used it on Gina without her even noticing!

It was a sneaky idea, and I knew I should be ashamed, but it was worth a try if only to find out if this stuff would even do anything? Most probably 'Emperor Tian's Powder' was nothing other than talcum but I would at least get some pleasure from sneakily rubbing it on her tits without her knowledge. Just thinking about my plan, my fantasy, had given me a hard-on (the uncomfortable kind, where your stiff cock is caught up in your underwear, poking down one trouser leg). I went up to our bedroom and slipped the tin under my pillow.

Supper was pleasant and afterwards we sat together on the couch, sharing gossip about our workdays over a glass of wine and just generally chilling out. I didn't make any mention of my lunchtime shopping expedition. After watching some TV, I excused myself and said I was going up to bed to read for a while before sleeping. Gina took the hint and soon followed to shower, remove her makeup and come and join me in bed. My mention of reading was all a bit of a joke between us, we both knew that once the lights went out we would usually have sex and this night was no exception. We were young and, if she was in the mood, we had sex about four nights out of seven; this was one of those nights.

This night I deviated from the norm of having a few kisses before getting on top of her the moment she got into bed. This time I planned to do things differently and extend any foreplay so that I could make sure that the 'medicine' was properly applied. I waited until I heard When I heard the shower door click open I knowing exactly how long she would take to pat herself dry before slipping into her nightshirt and coming to join me in bed, I waited the appropriate time before pulling out the little metal jar out from under my pillow. I carefully unscrewed the lid and shook out its contents into the palm of my left hand, closed my fist over it and then I put the empty tin into the drawer of my bedside table. As she came through the door I casually picked up my book in my right hand, and waited innocently.

My timing was perfect. On cue, Gina emerged from the bathroom and slipped into bed beside me. Luckily, she was in the mood and without a word she took the book from my hand before leaning over to give me a kiss. As we kissed, I slipped my left hand under her night shirt, and she moaned her approval as I began caressing her soft little boobs in the most loving way. She did not seem to notice the very small amount of powder that I was rubbing into her little mounds, brushing over her stiff nipples, and dusting the slight depression of her chest of what would have been a cleavage had she had tits. Satisfied that I had effectively covered her with the last traces of the powder on my fingers, I let my left hand wander down to the moist bushy cunt and placed between her thighs and rubbed between the plump lips of her vulva so that any last traces of powder might find a home there. Satisfied my work was done I then grasped my long, thick cock and pushed it between those soft lips and we both sighed with pleasure.

That night, our sex seemed a little more exciting than usual, and I was feeling quite pleased with myself as I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I was not the least bit surprised to see absolutely no change in the size of her chest. Emperor Tian had given no hint as to how long it would be before his potion would make a difference and I had already convinced myself that the whole thing was indeed a joke. No matter, at least he had given me a bit of harmless titillation and my mind game had added a little spice to our sex life and that could only be a good thing in itself was my thinking.

I was in high spirits as I drove home in the evening and I was even more pleased to find that Gina had arrived a little before me and was hanging her coat on the hall coat rack. My pleasure was a little dampened when I noted she seemed a little bit down.

"I left work early," she said. "I was feeling a little weird. I think my period is coming early."

She turned toward me, and I saw that she did indeed look a little flushed. I reached out to put my hand on her forehead and happened to glance down and noticed something a bit odd about the way her shirt was hanging. I had to suppress a gasp when I realized what I was seeing, there had been a small, but unmistakable, 'enhancement' to her bust-line.

She caught me staring. "Yeah, don't ask, I reckon I must be retaining water, or something."

The thought that it might be due to the powder doing what it 'says on the tin' made my cock stir and begin to stiffen. I was both confused and elated; could it be, has the powder caused this? I did the only thing that come to mind, I changed the subject, mumbled something about getting supper started, but before I could make a move she reached out impulsively and cupped her hand over my half-hard penis. I was startled by her forwardness, but not displeased.

Completely out of character she then said, " You know, I might be getting my period but that doesn't mean that I don't want this thing in me ...." She gave the stiffening shaft of my cock a squeeze through the fabric of my trousers, "... I've never properly appreciated the size of this thing. Don't let us worry about the period ... I don't know what's got into me, I've been thinking about this all day." She laughed lightly, pulling me over to the couch, unbuckling my belt with her free hand.

I thought back to the placard in the shop window and the claim of ' Make More Womanly ' and I silently thanked Emperor Tian as I drove my thickness into her wet cunt. We forgot about supper and made love three times that evening, a record for us, before falling into a blissful sleep.

The next morning, I awoke to a sounds of dismay from across the room. Gina was standing in front of the mirror in her panties, fumbling with the straps to a black underwired bra. Three other bras were on the floor at her feet. I asked her if she was having a problem.

"This is crazy, it's like all my bras have shrunk in the wash. This is my biggest one that I bought by mistake, it's a 34C, and even this doesn't fit!"

She turned to show me, and it was true, her breasts were definitely bulging over the fringe top and there was no doubting they were also pushing out beneath the bottoms of the cups.

"They hurt, too. I'm calling in sick to tell them that I'm going to be late; that I have an appointment with my doctor. I just hope that I can get an appointment, I need to find out what's wrong with me."

I did my best to hide my delight with 'what was wrong' and faking sympathy I agreed that she should go the surgery. I offered to go with her but she declined and said she would go on her own but promised to call me at work if there were any problems.

Then, completely out of character, I noticed her staring, with an odd fixed look, at the big bulge in my boxers. She let go of the bra, turned back to face the mirror, and slipped her panties down and gave me a provocative wink. The next thing I knew was to be stuffing my cock into her from behind, gently cupping her newly formed big, tender tits in my hands.

******

There was no word from her all day, so I assumed everything was OK and on the bus ride home, all I could think about was that I would soon be home alone with my new sexed-up, C-cup wife; that she'd probably tear off my clothes even before the door shut behind me. I was soon to be disappointed.

I found Gina at the kitchen counter, staring down while methodically chopping up vegetables. She did not look up to meet my gaze when I asked her how she had got on at the doctors. In truth I wasn't too interested in her answer for I could see that matters had moved on and that her day had bought on further changes. She was wearing one of my loose cotton tee shirts and a pair of her jogging shorts. The tee shirt ordinarily would have been was too large but not now, her boobs were simply enormous and her nipples could be clearly seen pushing against the fabric. There was doubting that she'd been growing all day and the sight took my breath away, she was stacked.

She looked up and tearfully asked, "So, I'm guessing you're happy?"

I was taken aback, and fumbled for an appropriate reply. "I'm not sure what you mean... um, what did the doctor say?"

"He had no idea what is causing this... he said it's not something he's come across before but was aware it's something that might happen on rare occasions, even in fully grown women; a hormone imbalance. He said that I might need to have some tests taken ... that nature can be so unpredictable ..."

Her voice trailed off and had I been taking more attention I should have noticed a sadness and maybe tinge of bitterness but I was fixated on looking at those magnificent tits bulging and blossoming against the borrowed tee shirt.

"I stopped on the way home and tried to find some new bras. I picked up a 34F but even that doesn't seem right, who knows if I've even stopped growing. None of my clothes fit, I can't go out like this; my breasts bounce when I walk, everyone will stare at me and now my back is starting to really hurt. I feel like a I'm some fucking bimbo in a porno movie. It's horrible."

I couldn't dispute her analysis and I was in complete agreement that she did look like some desirable porno star but I didn't tell her that. I was wise enough to see that she was visibly upset and that she was working up to tears. I did the only thing I knew that would calm the situation, I stepped forward to 'comfort' her, to let her feel my trusty penis tightening in my trouser leg.

I was totally unprepared for what happened next. She put the knife down and took a quick step back to evade my hug. Then she pulled something from the pocket of her shorts, and held it up for me to see.

It was the empty tin of Emperor Tian's Powder.

"You self-centred prick!" she hissed. She cupped her free under one heavy breast and shook which caused her newly developed cleavage to wobble and sway appealingly (or so I thought). "What the hell have you done. How could you do this, what is it, some kind of fucking hormone? Do you even know what this stuff is?"

Oh dear, not the reaction I was hoping for. and certainly I didn't want to hear what she said next, "Well, I hope you like what you're looking at, because you're never touching me again."

She turned and left the room. When she was halfway up the stairs, she stopped and said flatly, "There are clean sheets on the bed in the spare room. If you so much as knock on my bedroom door I'll call the police."

And with that she slammed the bedroom door leaving me alone with my guilt ... and a throbbing hard-on.

For the next three days, she hardly left the bedroom, appearing only when she needed to eat, and then to sit quietly by herself at the kitchen table. She took great care to avoid getting anywhere near me and as she had taken to wearing an oversize, shapeless housecoat, I could not tell whether her shape had developed more/worsened/improved, depending on one's point of view.