Deferred Development - 03
Disclaimer: This story contains adult themes. It is not suitable for minors or the easily offended.
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When she was eighteen, Olivia’s parents made her get reduction surgery and go on meds to keep her breasts from growing back. Years later, in college and on her own, she decides it’s time for a change.
Contains: Breast Expansion
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Deferred Development
III
Olivia’s life returned to normal. Or rather, it found a new normal. She went to class, she did lab work with Cora, and “the tripod” watched deliciously cringe shows in her and Nell’s common room. She still did not take her meds. While she never woke up with a crippling fever like that first morning, there were other side effects.
Weaving her way between the large round tables packed with students, dodging backpacks and bag straps, Olivia beelined toward two heads of black hair. One fell straight to her lower back, the other a spray of twist-out curls. Olivia dropped her tray on the table and sat across from her friends.
“You’re running late this morning,” Cora observed matter-of-factly.
Olivia shrugged. “I slept through my alarm. It’ll be fine; enzymology doesn’t start for twenty-five minutes.”
Nell scowled in a way that reminded Olivia of her roommate’s South Asian mother. She was certain her friend would not appreciate the comparison. “You’re not getting sick again, are you?” Nell asked.
“I wasn’t sick before; I’m not sick now.”
“When was she sick? That day she missed classes?” Cora asked.
Nell nodded.
“Did you go to the HC?”
“I told her she should, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“I was fine,” Olivia said. “It was just sleep-deprived or something. I was up and about by the time you got back from practice, wasn’t I?”
“Doctors are always the worst patients. I should know; I have two aunts, an uncle, and a brother; all doctors, and none of them get regular check-ups.”
“She’s not a doctor, Nell—we’re bio-chem majors.”
“That’s what I told her. It’s not like she can just diagnose herself.”
Olivia laid her palm on the table just short of a slam. “Would you two stop talking about me like I’m not here? I just overslept a little, that’s all. You don’t see me trying to drag either of you to the HC every time you sneeze.”
Nell and Cora grumbled as they returned to their food.
“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” Nell said, waving her fork at Olivia’s plate. “I guess that’s something.”
“What? Cora got two pancakes.”
Indeed, the few bites remaining on Cora’s plate confirmed Olivia’s claim. She’d not gotten the sausage, bacon, or scrambled eggs that Olivia had already inhaled, but no one commented on that.
“Cora’s bigger than you.”
“Hey!”
“Oh, relax. I’m not calling you fat; you’re just a giant giraffe.”
“Everyone seems tall to you, pocket waifu.”
“Wow. Ethnic slurs, really? Did I call you a ‘Nubian princess?’”
“Giraffes are from Africa…”
“Jesus Christ, will you two behave?”
Nell stuck her tongue out at Cora, who returned the gesture. Then they grinned at each other.
“Anyway,” Nell said, “I’m not judging you. I think it’s good that you’re eating better. Just don’t overdo it.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Olivia resisted the urge to adjust the bra strap digging into her shoulder.
“Iced caramel latte for Olivia!”
Olivia avoided making eye contact with Em as she grabbed her coffee. The clear plastic cup had her name written in medium-point marker with curly hearts dotting both of the i’s. Em, it seemed, had no hard feelings about their underwhelming romantic encounter. Of course, Olivia had done her best to make the experience satisfying for the redhead in spite of her doom-spiraling, so maybe the evening hadn’t been quite so underwhelming for Em.
When Olivia finally looked up, Em was watching her from the corner of her eye while she worked the hissing, steaming piece of coffee equipment. Her freckled arms were bare to her shoulders, and they flexed softly as she tipped a tiny metal pitcher this way and that. Her glossy pink lips curled into a smirk, and she tossed Olivia a wink. The twinge of discomfort Olivia felt at the sight of those scribbled hearts shifted into something far less confusing. She traced her tongue across her lips, tasting a sense-memory of lavender and bergamot before sipping her latte. Keeping things casual didn’t mean she couldn’t ever go back for seconds, after all. Plus, the remembered taste of those freckles was making a compelling argument.
She couldn’t flirt with her ginger barista today, unfortunately; she had a decidedly less princessy woman waiting for her at a high-top table.
Unlike Em’s herbal tea body wash, Lilah tasted of carnations and licorice. Nearly as tall as Cora, her tight blonde pixie cut was dyed pink, and, as Olivia had hoped, her muscles weren’t just for show. Lilah was strong enough to toss her around like a doll. Well, she’d carried Olivia from the front door of her shared house all the way to her bedroom without getting winded. Olivia had wrapped her arms around Lilah’s neck and her legs around her waist, thrusting her tongue into Lilah’s mouth the entire way.
Although Lilah had done all the work, Olivia’s breathing was nowhere near as steady. She gasped when the big masc cupped her entire ass in one hand, pressed the other to the small of her back for balance, and then laid her gently out onto the bed. Olivia sank into the springs before they pushed her back up, and the motion was enough to bounce her breasts. They brushed against the fabric of her top, and even through her bra, the jostling was intense enough to make her squeak.
“Are you okay? I tried not to drop you.”
Olivia bit back a laugh as she nodded. She wasn’t made of glass. “Come here.”
Lilah crawled onto the bed, propping herself on an elbow. Olivia ran a finger along her jaw, drawing her closer until she could taste her black lipstick. She guided Lilah’s free hand to her chest, and when Lilah squeezed her boob, she moaned deep in her throat and her back arched.
“Do you like that?” Lilah teased.
In answer, Olivia bit gently on Lilah’s lower lip, then soothed away the bite with her tongue.
“Good.” Lilah undid the top button on Olivia’s blouse, then the second. “They’re very nice; I’ve been wanting to get my hands on them since you walked into the coffee shop.”
She was only undoing her buttons, but every contact, every incidental touch, was glorious. The sides of Lilah’s hands, the heels of her palms, even through layers of fabric… A whole-ass mouth on one nipple and fingers on the other hadn’t felt half as good two weeks ago.
Lilah parted the sides of Olivia’s top. Goosebumps pebbled across her skin as her upper body was laid bare. Covered only in her bra, black with red lace, she watched Lilah’s eyes travel hungrily down her body and back to her face. She made a wicked grin Olivia could tell was a bit forced.
“I think this one’s a bit small, babes.”
Olivia’s pulse was already thundering in her ears. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. “Probably shrank… In the stupid… dorm dryers…”
Instead of taking the bra off, Lilah’s large hands palmed her breasts, tracing the red lace of her bra cups with both long, tanned index fingers. They inched higher, her nails so short that nothing but Lilah’s skin met her skin. Olivia’s back bowed up off of the mattress, pressing her breasts harder into Lilah’s palms, desperate for more friction.
A slight widening of the eyes was the only sign of Lilah’s surprise. She didn’t pause to overthink as Olivia would have done, though. Her grip relaxed, shifting down to the crease where her underwire sat. She probed and searched with both thumbs. The bra was padded, but not enough to hide her hardening nipples. When Lilah’s thumbs slid over them, Olivia gasped. When she rolled them in slow circles, Olivia moaned. When she leaned in to kiss her cleavage, massaging the nubs like kneading dough, Olivia came.
When she came back down, she saw Lilah watching her with a smile that seemed genuinely pleased. Most women—Olivia included—would have been hard-pressed not to look smug. Lilah tucked some of Olivia’s hair behind her ear.
“I feel like I should apologize,” Olivia said.
“What for?”
“What’s the thing guys say, I swear that’s never happened before?”
“Ha! Are we in a sitcom now?”
“Maybe a rom-com.”
“Well, you’ve definitely got nothing to apologize for. Unless, of course, you’re done for the night…” Lilah stroked a finger along Olivia’s shoulder, teasing her bra strap.
Olivia grabbed Lilah’s biceps, throwing a leg over her broad hips as she rolled her onto her back. Somewhere in the violent maneuver, Lilah’s finger must have snagged on her bra, because the strap tore.
“Oh no! I’m sorr—”
Olivia silenced her apology with a hungry kiss. “It was old; don’t worry about it.”
As Lilah had said, her “date bra” didn’t fit right anymore, anyway. She undid the hooks and tossed it away. Lilah reached for her bare breasts, but before she could distract her, Olivia slithered down her gorgeous, rock-hard thighs to undo her jeans and return the favor.
***
Olivia was revising and rewriting a lab report in their common room when Nell returned from practice. The half-empty latte on the dining table beside her laptop beaded with condensation.
“I don’t know how you can drink coffee so late in the day,” Nell said, slumping down in the chair across from her.
Olivia picked up the clear plastic cup and shrugged as she took a sip. “It doesn’t keep me awake like that; I don’t know.” She set the cup back into its circular puddle, watching a droplet run between the hearts over her name. It was her second iced coffee of the day, but Nell didn’t need to know that. “How was practice?”
Nell threw her head back with a groan.
“That bad, huh?”
“I really, really wish I’d picked a solo for the spring showcase.”
Nell proceeded to re-argue her case for not playing piano for a duet in the music school’s big concert… thing. Her advisor had talked her into it, and the singers were a pair of complete prima donnas who spent half their practice sessions bickering, according to Nell. Every time Olivia heard this rant, she was tempted to suggest the duet just bang it out—straight people were always doing stupid shit like starting arguments and holding grudges to cover up their horniness. Nell wouldn’t appreciate that advice, however, even if Olivia could manage to phrase it more diplomatically. Instead, she nodded, made sympathetic faces, and offered appropriate responses like, “oof,” “yikes,” and “what a dick.”
Olivia listened until Nell finally wound down and let her arms drop to her sides with a deep, exasperated sigh. “So, what I’m hearing is…” She waited for Nell to come back from whatever she found so frustrating about their ceiling and look at her. “We skip the dining hall, order pizza, microwave some popcorn, and have an Amadeus marathon.”
A smile cracked Nell’s lips for the first time since she’d walked through the door. “Does one movie count as a marathon?”
“It does when said movie is three hours long.”
“First you suggest a movie, now you’re dragging your own pick?”
“I’m simply stating facts. It’s a long movie, but it’s perfect for us. You get all your music nerd stuff, and I get to see what’s her name’s girlies shoved up in corsets.”
Nell’s eyes flickered to Olivia’s chest and back. Her current bra didn’t fit much better than the date bra that hadn’t survived an evening with Lilah’s man hands. Her strong, thick, talented man hands. Anyway, she definitely had quad boob showing through her tank. She braced herself for one of her roommate’s well-intentioned but low-key intrusive comments, but Nell only said, “What kind of pizza?”
I really need to start air-drying my bras.