It was supposed to be an innocent Amazon purchase. A cowkini and cow-eared headband – just a little something to impress a certain special someone with. But all it took was for her to stand before her bathroom mirror to realize something was amiss.

“Wh-…what?“ Andrea’s hands moved to cradle her breasts. Just minutes ago, she was an A cup on the best of days – but now she was filling out the bikini quite handsomely. They were perfectly round, perfectly perky; together with her slender frame, she would have been perfect fodder for a fashion magazine. “I… something’s wrong,” she said, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward. Her boobs gently bounced against the palms of her hands. “I have never been this busty before…“

Maybe her chest heard her remark; maybe they were provoked as she gave them an exploratory squeeze. But in an instant, they began to swell even more – rapidly inflating like they were being pumped up with air. “EEEP!” Andrea’s shriek was coupled with a panicked step backward, but her hands kept themselves gripped tightly to her bust. Not that her grasp kept them from bouncing with her movements, of course. The way they swayed back and forth like pendulums made it obvious that they were natural through and through. If they were C cups before, they were venturing into watermelon territory by now.

“My boobs are growing! Oh my god! Oh my god oh my god oh my god-“ Though Andrea may have been the one panicking, her words would have been equally as fitting if they came from her cowkini top. Straps stretched until they were as taut as guitar strings, desperate to just keep up with her growth – and then they were promptly swallowed up by her rising, billowing flesh. Areolae escaped from beneath the triangles of cowprint fabric like water spreads outward from an overturned bucket. And all of this was to say nothing of the pressure; Andrea’s features contorted into pain as the straps dug deeper and deeper into her skin.

“Too much… too heavy…” Andrea’s backpedaling led her to collide against the wall behind her. Her eyes shot open. The mirror confronted her with her new reality: a cartoonishly top-heavy body that would turn heads and intimidate door frames. A long line of cleavage separated the two jiggling masses – which somehow never stopped quaking even though her hands hadn’t yet left their undersides. How could they? The soft sensation was just too exquisite; it was like she was holding her fingers underneath a warm chocolate fondue fountain. Breast blubber drooped over her hands like a blanket, layering on thicker and thicker, until-

SNAP!

The cowkini top split in two like it had been sliced with a sword. Straps fluttered through the air like bits of confetti – and her gargantuan tits, now freed from any kind of pressure, rounded out into their natural, satisfyingly-oblong shapes. They were big enough that they obscured her belly button, and wide enough that they could easily be seen from behind. “…oh my god, I’mmassive,“ Andrea moaned, her hands on top of her head; they had finally found something else to occupy themselves with. “I don’t think I could even reach my nipples if I tried…“

But just as she extended her arms, just as she outstretched her trembling fingers, just as she wanted to see if she could – her nipples (now the size of Atari joysticks) erected themselves and sprayed down her mirror like a pressure washer. Perhaps most memorable was the sound; it was not worlds away from how water batters the windshield of a vehicle in a car wash. Gallons of her product flooded the sink, poured off the counter, soaked into the grout between the tiles on the floor, and slipped between her bared toes.

The milk eventually died down, but not before forming a pool of milk that was ankle-deep. Andrea’s hands toured her new, gelatinous bust, kneading and squeezing every square inch. Her face sported so vivid a blush that it would make tomatoes jealous. “…w-well… at least I’ll get his attention now,” she said under her breath. Her eyes glanced at the remains of her cowkini floating in the milky tides. “I say this purchase was well worth it~“

@littlecutiecow​

“You’ve come on time… that’s a first, anon~!“ Even when it was a date, Kirika never abandoned her uniform. Maybe she adhered to club regulations at all times; maybe she had simply outgrown the rest of her wardrobe. But the way her nipples were tenting against the thickness of her yellow vest, she was probably already due for a new fitting. “They say that holding hands is lewd. But that’s exactly why I want to do it, you know?“

She tossed her banana peel into a trash receptacle and held out her hand. Though Kirika only vied for your attention, her charms always came with a blast radius. Patrons in a nearby restaurant peered over their newspapers or their cups of coffee to get a serving of her massive chest; one particularly transfixed waiter was absent-mindedly pouring an entire container’s worth of salt over someone’s fries. And who could blame them? Even so much as extending her arm left her beach ball breasts quaking through multiple aftershocks. If there was a bra somewhere under there (and there had to be given their spherical perk), it was about as flimsy as the peel she had just discarded.

“Awww, you’re so cute when you’re flustered, nonnie!” Kirika’s free hand moved to cup her cheek; her elbow nudged against her bust, further elongating the already-endless jiggling. “I just can’t help myself around you. I am dying to eat you up~!”

If it was foreseeable then, it was downright palpable now: Kirika’s figure wasn’t taking kindly to her uniform. Her vest – even as thick as it was – had begun to shear like it was being driven through a cheese grater. Slits of her pale, creamy flesh bulged through every gap they could find. It wouldn’t be much longer before the dam burst.

But you didn’t have to watch from a distance. Kirika took your hand in hers and tugged you to her side. Your head immediately impacted against an ample serving of sideboob; it would seem that her rack was doomed to an eternity of wobbling. “Whoops, silly me~,” Kirika feigned remorse, but the way she bore her teeth was like the grin of a cunning fox. “I may have the body of a supermodel, but I’m still pretty damn wide thanks to these honkers~!” The impression of her chest’s softness lingered far after your brief contact – though, perhaps it was just that a little of her sweat had adhered to your face in the same way her lipstick left marks on your skin.

But was it sweat? Or was it… was it something else?

“Now let’s get going already,” Kirika said, lacing her fingers around yours and tightening her grip. “I don’t want to be late for our reservation!”

If it was something else, she hadn’t noticed. But since your eyes were at the level of her boobs, it was undeniable: a duo of damp circles began to form on her vest, and they expanded slowly like pancake batter being poured into a pan. Your heartbeat quickened – and so did her body’s growth. The purple bow rounding her neck had begun to unravel, revealing a significant amount of perfectly symmetrical cleavage. The gaps in her top popped seams like popcorn, and more and more of her skin was pouring out from the fabric.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that I took some expansion serum,“ Kirika finally admitted. “The restaurant doesn’t have the greatest drinks… so I figured we could just go hide in a bathroom stall and I’d quench your thirst~“

Growth Snaps #210

Snapchat me @ expansion_g for more!!!