Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 03

Obviously, he couldn't try on any of the panties, seeing as he didn't have anything to wear under them, but seeing him in just that skirt and a bra was good enough for me. I had to suppress a laugh though as he strut around and posed. He was doing a big show of trying to show off his muscles, and while his body was certainly more athletic than mine, it was far from the muscle-bound football-stud he seemed to believe he was. He did have this one way of flexing his pecs though which I loved, since it set his tits jiggling even in their satiny confinement.

Despite the prodigious number of bras that he'd picked up to try on, he had managed to narrow it down to a small handful that apparently passed for him as both sexy and comfortable. My favorite of these was the strapless push-up. Given the way his tits seemed to constantly defy gravity, I didn't know if a push-up bra was exactly the sort of thing he needed, but damned if I could focus on his face when he was wearing it. His favorite though, and the one he had decided to wear out of the store, was a sexy little red demicup, the strap of which seemed to be threatening to fall off his delicate shoulder at a moments notice. In fact he had modeled if for me doing just that. I almost fainted. He had picked out some matching panties, which he hoped would fit, but of course he couldn't wear them until after we had paid.

With Evan's little fashion show over, it was my turn. Before I could get up though, that woman from earlier had returned, now holding a number of bras that seemed more in line with her new proportions. The smug look on her face told me that she had not learned her lesson.

Looking around, the only people I could see were the sales associate and a rather mousy looking girl who I hadn't even noticed until now who was browsing around the back of the shop. Before the woman could even get to a dressing room stall I had swapped her boobs out with those of the mousy girl.

My jaw dropped as I saw the results. The woman had been buxom before, I had made sure of that, but now she almost put Evan and I to shame. Her tits swayed cartoonishly as she stormed into the stall she had been using earlier.

I looked over, stunned, at the girl. She seemed to be standing a little more straight, but I couldn't see any difference beneath her baggy coat. Where on earth had she been hiding all that?

It wasn't long after that I heard the woman start to swear and then not long after that before she stormed out of the dressing rooms altogether. She probably thought she was going crazy.

I looked up at Evan, who was emerging from his stall, a bounty of brasiers in hand, and just laughed.

Something I was quick to discover in the dressing stall was that I was apparently distractingly beautiful. I don't think I ever had the chance to just sit down and really internalized how good I now looked. I've never been especially vain or anything, I mean, how could I be? But looking into the full-length mirror before me now, I was completely thrown off guard by the porn star centerfold staring back at me. I was weirdly dressed, sure, but with tits as big as mine I made it look good. I made it look sexy. This just made matters worse for me down below however since my lust-driven hindbrain apparently couldn't seem to get it through its dense little grey-matter that what I was looking at was my own reflection and not some big-titted slut begging me to throw her to the ground and start rutting.

Frankly, between Evan's little fashion show and this, I was starting to question why we'd even left the house today to begin with. We could be at home naked and fucking right now.

Arduously, I tore myself away from my own sexy gaze long enough to actually try on some clothing. This didn't help, now I was just seeing the porn star in the mirror in various stages of undress and then trying on sexy lingerie. I bit my lip, but the look of wonton need on the poor girl's face wasn't helping either.

That's about when I realized that the panties I'd picked out were not going to do the trick. I had hoped that boy shorts might work, but I could tell that they were going to be woefully inadequate even when I didn't have a raging hard-on. I had to struggle to not whip my dick out and try to manually relieve some of that sexual pressure then and there. It felt like my hands apparently had a mind of their own, and that they were conspiring with my junk to get me into all kinds of trouble. I had half a mind to pull Evan's sexy ass in there and have him take responsibility for his errant dick, but of course that would have to wait until we got home.

So nothing against boxers, but I was a little disappointed. I'm sure there's plenty of them out there that are cute or sexy, and I totally see the necessity of having all that room up front, (plus, I had discovered that they have a little hole in the front you can sneak your dick out of for some reason, which was kind of neat,) but it just wasn't doing anything for me stylistically. I wanted something frilly, I wanted something girly, I wanted something slutty, and I was pretty sure guys underwear didn't come in that sort of style unless the store was catering to some very specific clientele. I made a mental note to check if we had that sort of store around here, but it seemed like a bit of a long shot.

I wondered what that mincing cheerleader from earlier had been wearing. Uhg, she had probably been wearing some kind of super skimpy thong. I could just imagine how hard it was to get something like that to contain a great big dick like mine. I didn't envy the way her balls were probably bouncing around all free inside her pants. Last night, I had ended up with no panties at all after swapping some stuff around with one of those girls at the bar, so I guess it's possible she wasn't wearing anything at all. Maybe hers was just so small that she didn't have much trouble with it. I laughed as a weird kind of pride washed over me. My dick was pretty amazing. It wouldn't surprise me if I was bigger than any of those skanks where it counted.

Evan gave me a supportive grin as I stepped out of the stall in lacy lavender. In my mind he'd seen me in bras so often I'd kind of stopped caring, but with all the changes that had been happening, I guess he was seeing me now for the first time. For some reason that made me nervous.

"Well," I asked, "What do you think?"

I did a tiny spin and struck an awkward half pose as I stepped out of the dressing stall to give him a good look. I tried for something coy and flirty, but I think it ended up as just looking silly. Clearly, If I was going to look good I was going to need to get better at this.

Evan just grinned as he stood up and gave me a great big hug. Or, well, that was his attempt. Between me being taller than him and our boobs getting in the way, part of the effect was lost. Still, he got points for trying.

"You look beautiful, baby."

I smiled. He was right. I did. I really really did love the way I looked. I had never felt truly confident in lingerie, but seeing up close and feeling deep down just how drool-inducingly good I looked just reaffirmed all of the decisions I had made up until this point.

"How does it feel?"

"It feels good?" I laughed "It feels like a bra."

"It fits okay?"

"Well," I said, bouncing my tits up and down and seeing how long it took them to settle, "it feels like it's still a little jigglier than I'd like, but it's holding them in place pretty well and nothing is digging in or anything, so yeah, I'd say it fits pretty well."

"Is it everything you were hoping it would be?"

"Yes?" That was a weird question.

"I'm glad." He gave me a kiss. I laughed.

I spent some time showing off a few more bras to Evan. The flashier ones, mostly. I had made sure to get some good reliable everyday bras for lounging around the house in too, of course, but I didn't feel the need to really show them off. I found that making the effort to go sexy had led me down a winding road of lacy and exotic patterns hitherto unknown by my bra drawer. They were all very feminine too, I noticed, as if in contrast to Evan's more masculine tastes.

Sadly, I did not see the result of my little experiment on those two girls, who left while I had been changing. From the way they were gabbing about how they were going to kill at the big party this weekend though I could tell that they both seemed to enjoy their selections.

Not long after that, that cute teenage couple had come in to try stuff on. I noticed, as I was modeling for Evan, that the girl seemed to be waiting with that kind of impatient lechery that I now found all too familiar. She also seemed quite distracted by me. At first I thought that maybe she was weirded out by the way I was dressed, but then I noticed the way she was using her boyfriend's purse to try and hide her erection. I considered giving her a little bit of a show, but sadly her boy-body didn't really do anything for me. Still, it was good to be found attractive.

My good mood was shattered by a sharp derisive laugh.

The woman from earlier, her enormous knockers wiggling out in front of her like a pair of angry poodles, had returned, holding in her hands a pair of equally enormous bras. She had apparently taken one good look at me and what I was wearing and couldn't decide if she found it hilariously pathetic or just plain disgusting.

On most days, the look she was giving me would have made me want to curl up and cry. It was an awful hurtful thing. Today, however, I was better than that. Today I was going to feel good about myself and I wasn't going to take any shit from someone like her.

Evan had already risen to his feet in my defense by the time I had managed to retrieve the device from my bag. He looked between me and it and I gave him a reassuring look. I appreciated the effort, but I had everything under control.

With a soft zzzzttttt I swapped the woman's whole torso with the girl who was waiting for her boyfriend. The woman's new, boyish chest looked comically out of place, an effect perfectly enhanced by the way she looked down perplexed at the huge sails of fabric in her hands.

The girlfriend, now every bit the equal of Evan and myself, snickered at the idea of this poor flat-chested woman trying on something so... optimistic. I joined in the girl's laughter and Evan followed suit. The woman blushed angrily, confused tears started to well up in her eyes as she escaped into the dressing room stall.

I felt kind of bad for the woman as I returned to my own stall, but I supposed that at least she seemed now to have learned her lesson. I had decided that the bra I was wearing, a lacy pink plunge kind of thing, was comfortable and stylish enough that I wanted to wear it for the rest of the day. I just wished I'd been able to find some underwear to match.

As we made our way over to the cashier, I was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. I loved my tits to death, but it was so much easier to move around now that I had a bit of support. I hadn't expected them to be so difficult to control. The fact that my sore, sensitive nipples were no longer constantly rubbing against the rough fabric of my sweatshirt was also a huge plus.

I was kind of disappointed though that Evan's weren't jiggling as much. I kept sneaking down eyefuls expectantly, but to no avail. This is not to say, however, that I was not delightfully charmed by the way they were now lifted and supported. They were perky for their size before, but Evan's push-up bra now had them standing at attention just for me.

As the cashier rang up all the items, I idly wondered where we were going to keep all of these. I guessed we could throw away all of our old clothes, of course, but we were definitely buying more than we were going to be able to get rid of, and this was just the first store we had been to. I supposed, come to think of it, that a lot of them would probably end up spending a fair bit of time strewn about on the floor after we had pulled them off each other, but that was hardly a solution.

The bill was painful. It turns out that good quality, good looking bras in our size aren't cheap. I idly considered giving the cashier a swap in exchange for the clothes, but that would probably have raised too many questions. I just had to have faith that my plan to get money from Elizabeth was going to work out. She could be a little unpredictable, sure, but she generally meant well. And hey, if it didn't I'm sure there were plenty of other people we could sell swaps to.

I could see the couple from earlier were now browsing through the area of the store that hosted the larger sizes. I guessed now they were looking for stuff for the girl, who seemed eager to show off her prodigious assets. For some reason even though they both had boobs, it seemed wrong to me that the shy boyfriend wasn't the one with the ridiculously huge pair, so I made sure to swap them around before we left. After all, she had helped deal with that nasty woman, in a way, so why not give her a reward?

I kind of wish I could have made them the same size, so that they could share clothes - that would have added a cute aspect to their relationship - but it would have taken too long to find the right pair of boobs and Evan was eager to get going. I looked over at my beautiful boyfriend and considered doing the same thing with us, but then we'd just have to turn right back around and buy a whole new set. Oh well, it was something we could try out some other time. Besides, I kind of liked the fact that I was a full cup-size bigger than him, even if his were perkier.

I'm sure we still looked pretty ridiculous as we left Victoria's secret. I was still wearing an old hoodie and a miniskirt with boxers on beneath, and Evan was still rocking that hockey jersey, but it was a relief at least to have all that weight off our chests, and at least Evan was no longer flashing his vag to anyone who cared to look.

I leaned over and gave him a kiss. Though at first surprised at my sudden display of affection, he smiled back at me and returned the kiss with vigor. Before long I had him against the wall, our tongues dancing as we explored each other's mouths.

I wish we could have stayed there forever, or taken things to the next level, but we had a long day of shopping still ahead of us. I sighed as we parted. We'd have to put this on hold for now. Besides, I could already see another situation demanding I use the device.

Hand in hand we ventured forth.

Evan, ever the gentleman, carried the bags.

To Be Continued in Part 4: Swapping Therapy!