i just got really high and my boobs feel sooo sensitive. can you make em bigger so i can really enjoy this?
Growing while a little bit high really is the best, isn't it? You're just so much more alive inside your body. You feel everything so keenly, the best pressing up against your body, the weight of your own breasts pressing down. You can feel them wobble and shift with each breath you take, pushing them outward against your clothes. Even just the fabric of your bra brushing against your skin sends warm waves of pleasure across your whole body. For a blissful moment, your clothes feel so tight, squeezing your breasts. You can feel yourself bulging out, spilling over the edges, your breasts searching for every route out of their confinement that they can find.
And then you breathe out and everything relaxes. Everything goes back to normal.
Except it doesn't quite, does it?
As you relax, your top doesn't relax all the way. Your bra stays stretched, just a little bit. Your breasts don't quite settle back where they were.
And then you breathe in again and everything gets even tighter. More stretching. More bulging. More intense pleasure. Your hands come up to squeeze your breasts and they fill your grip more than ever before. Your back arches from the pleasure boiling in your core, pushing your chest further against your hands. Your fingers start to spread as your breasts grow underneath them. Soft flesh bulges out through the openings. You're getting bigger! The realization slams into you and you let out a moan, your eyes rolling back into your head. Your boobs are growing!
You can't help yourself now. You grab and grope and squeeze and knead. You can't lift your hands away. Your clothes are getting tighter by the second, almost too tight, and they're blocking you from your own tits. They need to be taken off. You don't quite have the togetherness of thought to coordinate your effort, so you simply claw and pull and whimper at the clothing. Finally, something gives. The sound of tearing fabric fills the air and your breasts flop free. You don't care about your ruined clothes. Not now. All of your attention is on your growing bust.
Your moaning gets even louder, drowning out your own thoughts, as you're finally able to grab yourself directly. Pinching and tugging on your nipples, squeezing your tits, slapping them together. It would have felt good anyway, but being high means that you feel everything! Time slows to the point of meaninglessness. Everything outside of your direct perception fades away. The whole universe, as far as you're concerned, is only you and your growing, swelling, engorging tits.
They keep growing. They keep swelling. Cup sizes pass you by without notice as you keep playing with your udders. At some point, a singular thought breaks through. You don't have the willpower to give it any proper consideration. You simply act. Your lips part and take your own nipple between them.
Everything goes white.
Like a flashbang in your mind, pleasure explodes inside you. The most primal of instincts take over and so you just suckle on your own tit, chasing pleasure and nothing else. The place between your legs is completely ignored; the whole center of your pleasure—of your very being—is just your tits. And, still, they grow. They can't stop. You don't want them to. They're getting bigger and heavier and fuller and, somehow, even more sensitive. If you had the capacity to worry, you might fear that they're getting too big, but those concerns don't exist anymore. There's only growing. There's only pleasure. There's only tits.
