The movers finished setting up the refrigerator. Tabitha followed them to the front door as they left, and Jon followed her.
She turned around, her breasts jiggling pleasantly, saw Jon's questioning face, and said, "Okay, okay, let's sit back down, and I'll explain everything."
Jon went back to the mis-oriented couch. Tabitha perched on the edge of a cockeyed table. She sighed, took a deep breath, and then blurted, "I have a wishing stone."
"What?!" Jon exclaimed, not believing he heard what he just heard.
"I have this little rock," explained Tabitha. "I touch it, I wish for something, it comes true, with a few restrictions. And I've gotten so used to using it for little stuff, I kinda do it without thinking. I went in the kitchen, realized I didn't have anything to offer you, and wished for a nice pitcher of ice-cold lemonade and two glasses."
"Uh, what are the restrictions?" Jon was trying hard not to look too interested -- which was hard, now that his brain was splitting its attention between looking at Tabitha's titanic tits and thinking about her wishing stone claim.
"It only works within, like, 3 miles. But the worst part is you can't go back on a wish. So if I wish I don't have this pitcher anymore, it won't work."
"But you could wish the pitcher was somewhere else," murmured Jon thoughtfully. And then he sat upright -- he should have realized from the get-go that something was odd about Tabitha's chest. Her breasts looked perfectly natural, but they were much too big on her average-sized frame to actually be natural. In fact, they seemed supernaturally large.
She caught him looking, yet again. "Oh, yeah, these," she said. "Here's what happened."
