So, Karyn lied. A little. It was a tiny thing, really, a lie of the minuscule alabaster variety, and she wouldn't be losing any sleep over it. Really, there just wasn't any nonawkward way to tell a friend-boy who's not your boy-friend that your boobs felt weird.
Karyn found herself back in the school shortly. The doors weren't locked, nor would they be until the Cheer Squad and the Jocks were done with practice for the day, but Karyn didn't care about that. She was single-mindedly heading to the girl's bathroom, because her boobs felt... how did her boobs feel? Bigger and heavier, obviously, but there was more to it in a way she couldn't really describe if she tried. They felt like an itch, except there was no compulsion to scratch them. They felt like a tender swollen wound, except there was no pain and no scab to pick at. They felt like the rock-hard genitals of someone very horny, but Karyn wasn't really in the mood. She didn't know what it was really, but her boobs were insisting on her attention.
Karyn pushed her way into the lady's room and found herself in front of the cleanest mirror they had. It was quiet, until she jumped at her reflection in the mirror with a little yelp. It was the first time she had seen herself with her newly long, blonde, silky hair flowing behind her, and after a moment Karyn was running a hand through it. The tug on her scalp left a pleasantly tingly feeling... but she was getting distracted. Her boobs needed her, so she pulled off her top, and-
Okay.
So Karyn was straight.
Probably.
Puberty had seemed to have forgotten about her libido, she'd thought; whatever abrupt awakening she was "supposed" to have where she suddenly started dreaming about cute boys (or girls) sweeping her off her feet and carrying her off into the sunset hadn't really happened to her, at least not in any way she had really considered notable in any of her 18 years of life.
Until now.
Karyn wasn't wearing a bra, and the titty drop her bulging eyes beheld as she pulled her shirt and sweater off actually audibly made her gasp. Those big, perfect blobs of feminine beauty caught her clothes by the nipple and bounced, up and down and jiggle and wiggle until they finally assumed that perky, tantalizing teardrop shape other pairs as huge as hers could only achieve with a bra if ever.
God, they were HOT.
That was the word. Karyn learned what it meant, then and there. It meant that for reasons Karyn could not put into words she simply had to stop and stare and appreciate their beauty more deeply than any critic had ever appreciated the Sistine Chapel. It meant that Karyn blushed, her heart beat faster and her breath came quicker, meaning in turn that her huge heaving breasts heaved harder and made her hotter.
Karyn couldn't believe they were hers.
Experimentally, she bounced them, and the eyes she glued to them just about made her jaw fall off. She swayed them, back and forth, and she was hypnotized, her mind emptied except for thoughts of her steadily swinging boobies and what to do with them. She jumped and shook and twirled and things were taken up a notch when, at last, she squeezed them.
God, they were SENSITIVE.
Karyn whimpered like a wounded puppy, but then she squeezed them harder. They were soft and sensitive and supple and sexy and above all they LOVED to be played with. Karyn couldn't help but oblige them, and soon her hands were busy kneading and squeezing and caressing and massaging and her pussy was busy weeping tears of joy into her soaking panties and her voice was busy singing a song of sighs and moans and gasps and whines and soon Karyn had no idea where she was or why she was there because the only thing that mattered was her new huge tits, capped at the ends by two rockhard steamy sensual lovers that pleasured her more deeply and viscerally than that whore her clitoris could ever dream of.
Karyn's knees gave out as she climaxed, and she collapsed, panting on the cold gross bathroom tile.
"...Um?"
Karyn felt as if she were struck by lightning and bolted to her feet. One of the Cheerleaders (Amber? Was that her name?) was standing just inside the bathroom's entry. Both of them were blushing beet red.
"D-do..." Amber's eyes were locked on Karyn's chest, and she gulped. "Do you need any help?"
"No!" Karyn said a little too forcefully. "No, I'm uh, I'm like, I'm totally fine," she stammered, then she bent over to pick up her shirt and her sweater and hurried to get dressed. Amber watched the reverse striptease in its entirety.
"Can..." Amber's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Can I touch them?"
That caught Karyn completely off guard. "Excuse me!?" she asked, flabbergasted.
Wrong answer. Amber's red face somehow turned almost purple, and she buried her face in her hands in shame. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Forget I said anything, forget I was here!" And then she ran away as a humiliated mess.
Karyn just stood there, for a very long while. It almost seemed impossible to believe what had just happened was in fact actual reality that had just happened. Finally, in a haze, her feet started to carry her homeward.
Her boobs still felt that sensation that called for her attention.
