Warning: This is a work of fiction (obviously). Men do not just grow breasts, and if they did they likely wouldn’t get it on with big-titted beauties. Therefore any resemblance to people living or dead is in your imagination. Go get another drink. Oh, by the way, sexual content, yadda yadda yadda...
My head was aching when I woke up. I was so confused. I remembered looking out the window the night before. I remembered watching that star twinkle and shine. I remembered feeling a sense of amazement as I thought about life, about love, about sex, food, death and everything else and it all seemed to make sense for the first time. Then I remembered wishing for something ... something ... that I couldn’t remember. It slipped away like so many grains of sand.
I walked into the bathroom of my apartment, still in a haze. I took off my clothes, thinking that they felt strange; binding and loose at the same time. I couldn’t understand it, but I’m not surprised that I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still felt like I’d dropped a few dozen codeine pills.
I noticed in the shower, though.
When the water hit my hair, I ran my hands through it. That was my first surprise. I keep my hair cut short, I suppose trying to look like one of those “guy groups”. I never had the build to look like a Backstreet Boy, though. However, now something was very different. My hair just kept going and going. I didn’t end. It was long, and now that I began to clear up I could feel it brushing against my ass cheeks. I spun around and got my second surprise.
The stream of water hit me square in the face, and ran down my neck, over my chest and in between my breasts. Breasts! That’s right, all of a sudden I had breasts. I grabbed them. They were real. They hung off of my chest. I can still barely believe it. All this time later and still doesn’t seem real...
I screamed. The scream was somewhere between a manly howl and a ladylike wail. I slammed by body against the shower doors, desperate to escape. From the shower? From myself? From whatever had happened to me? I don’t know. All I know is that I wanted away so badly that the shower doors gave way against my assault and dropped to the floor. I landed on top of them. Hard.
I had never felt so much pain in my entire life. I don’t think another living creature ever has. My new breasts slammed into the doors and mashed against my rib cage. I though my lungs were going to explode. Then my cock crunched down against the metal corner of the shower door. I felt that all too familiar lightening bolt start running up my body. It shot into my brain with the force of a rocket. Any breath I had exploded out of me, followed by a fountain of vomit as my stomach clenched and roiled. It took me minutes to regain my breath and control of my body. Those were the longest minutes of my life. They lasted years in my mind. When I could stand again, I stood up and stumbled to my bed.
When I woke up, I could think rationally. I didn’t know what or how it had happened but somehow my body had changed. I had to know exactly what had changed. I walked fearfully towards the bathroom, unsure of what I’d see. I procrastinated, shoving the doors out of the way. This only reminded me of what had happened as my arms brushed against the sides of the things on my chest. I had to look.
I was still naked, and I could see everything immediately. My body hair had diminished amazingly, and was now no more dense than, well, the average woman’s. I was still tall, my original 6’ 2’’ having been reduced to only about 6’, but my frame was vastly different. I had always been large. My skeleton had been large and the body upon it had been just as big. I’d always been slightly overweight, despite years of martial arts and jogging. Consequently, I’d always had some flesh hanging off my chest. Nothing like now, though. My frame was more delicate, if the frame of a female body builder can be called delicate. My muscle tone wasn’t anything like a body builder, though. I could see the slight definition of my muscles under my skin, looking for all the world like a magazine model. But no magazine model had breasts like these. Well, maybe porno magazine models, but their bodies weren’t as tight as mine.
But back to my breasts. They were huge, but not implant huge. They hung slightly, giving me quite and attractive amount of cleavage. The nipples were on the large side, but perfectly defined, and rock hard from the cold air against my naked skin. Okay, maybe they weren’t all that large, not so people would gape as I walked down the street, but they were at least a large C, and going from normal male to big breasted female sure made them look titanic.
I wasn’t entirely a big-breasted female though. My cock still hung down between my legs, right where it had always been. I looked so incongruent, I couldn’t believe it was me. I had to reach down and grab a hold of it just to make sure that it was part of me. I felt my hand close around its limp form and knew it was me. I forced myself to look up and see if any of my old masculinity remained. I could see hints of myself in my new face. My jaw was slightly stronger than is normal on a woman. Further down, my shoulders and hips were still in nearly male proportions. Here and there I could see me. All over I could see someone else.
I heard the furnace come on. The furnace always came on about six in the afternoon as the air turned cold when the sun set, despite the fact that it was nearing the end of March. The air that blew out of the vent on the floor below me blew up and over my body. I felt it stimulate my prick and then travel up over my new body and caress my nips. I felt my body temperature rise. My body was responding in ways that I’d never felt before. Did women feel this every time the wind blew? Oh, God, it felt good. I reached down and grabbed my hardening cock. I pulled on it quickly until it was rock hard. Then, on pure instinct, my other hand grabbed at my chest. I started moaning as I threw my head back. My hair brushed my back and ass, lush and dark. I felt as if electrical shocks were flying through my skin wherever my hands, or anything else, touched me. I felt a wave crash over me. I fell to my knees. The cold tiles against my legs and ass brought me back to reality. What was I doing? I needed help. I ran to the phone. I called my friend Natalie.
Natalie and I had known each other since we were ten. We were friends all the way through highschool and now we were both in second year of university together. She knew me, my thought and feelings. She’d see through my body. I hoped.
“Who is this?” she asked. I forgot that my voice sounded higher, more like a woman’s. I concentrated, and my voice took on a semblance of normality.
“Nat, it’s me. Andrew. Uhm ... I’ve got a bit of a problem. I need to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?” Her voice was sounding slightly panicked.
“Uh ... it’s hard to explain. I do want you to come over, but can you promise me that you’ll be open minded?”
“Andrew, what’s wrong?”
“You’ll understand when you get here. Bye.”
I hung up the phone as I realized that I had only about ten minutes to find something to wear. My hips and waist had only changed size slightly, the lover handles and pot belly having disappeared and the entire deal becoming slightly more girlish. My pants should have fit, and I was delighted to find they did. I didn’t look like a super model, but they stayed on. For a shirt, I chose a baggy old sweatshirt of mine. It almost drove me insane, though. The inside of the shirt kept rubbing against my nipples, which had become a hundred times more sensitive than they had ever been while I was a man, and beyond that the shirt was rubbing against my breasts and stomach which were also incredibly sensitive. I felt my cock starting to harden again, when a knock at the door came.
“Andrew, are you in there? It’s me, Natalie,” came her call through the door. I ran over and opened it without thinking.
“Who are you?” she asked, eyeing me up and down.
“Come in, I’ll explain,” I said gesturing inside.
Natalie walked inside warily, and gingerly sat down in my big arm chair. She looked up at me, examining me, and I examined her in return. I’ll admit that I’d always found her attractive. She was on the plump side, being about 165 lbs and only about 5’7’’. However, her chest was enormous. When she was taking notes at lectures, her E cup tits always rested on her binder. When she got to the bottom of the page and moved the binder up, her breasts would drop down and jiggle in an amusingly arousing way. Her ass and legs weren’t sculpted, but they had a good muscle tone from the time that she spent at the gym. She’d always been sensitive about her size, but with her blonde hair, heart shaped face, and incredible tits no man would look the other way. I imagined myself pressing up against her, letting my new tits be engulfed by her massive boobs...