Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 04

She'd make a good soccer mom, I caught myself thinking, cause she was bringing enough juicy melons for everyone. Uhg. I scowled my own pun.

Her husband was... well, it was kind of hard to get a read on guys now that I wasn't really attracted to them anymore. He seemed kind of nerdy, but maybe in that cute way? He was in decent enough shape, and seemed to be quite a bit taller than her. That was something I had always found attractive when I was straight wasn't it? I got such a thrill out of Evan being shorter than me now though, it seemed so alien to think the reverse had once been true.

While they both looked tired, the wife was definitely the more worn out of the two. She must have been fronting a lot of the responsibilities herself. That didn't seem very fair, did it?

What's worse, while the mother just wanted to sit down and relax, the father was clearly not in a happy place. His face was red with embarrassment at his wife's exposed chest, and his eyes were darting around the plaza to make sure that no one was staring as the mother of his child pulled out her other boob and swapped sides. I glanced away as he looked in my direction. Sure, I had been staring, but it had hardly been intentional.

"I don't see why you're always getting so nervous." I heard her sigh. "It's perfectly natural. Look around, you're the only one here who has a problem with it." This seemed to do little, however, to assuage his anxieties.

Now, in my defense, I must have spent several minutes resisting the urge before I finally broke down and grabbed for the device. All the philosophical waxing I had been doing slipped from my mind completely. In my head it seemed perfectly justified. After all, I was just allowing the father to take on some additional responsibilities with the baby. It would do them both some good for him to shoulder his wife's big heavy burdens for a while, right? In truth, I think I was just insatiably curious.

This was an easy swap. I laughed remembering how many different pairs of boobs I had tried on last night. Swapping tits around was practically a speciality of mine.

The device's signature zzzzttttt noise gave way to a loud prolonged ripping sound as the father's shirt burst apart at the seems to make way for his sudden and irrepressibly massive milk makers.

The baby, to my surprise, continued to suckle at its mother's nipple, completely oblivious to the strange noises or the sea of chest hair now surrounding it. Was lactation not connected to breasts when the device swapped them around?

The woman looked over and laughed as she saw her husband's plight, then said something sarcastic as she gently pulled the child from her chest and adjusted her now-loose dress back over her nipple.

"I told you that would happen!" she laughed. "The doctor said your boobs would keep swelling up! I don't know why you even put that tiny shirt on in the first place. God, you're so stubborn!"

His face flushing red, I didn't catch his mumbled response, but she clearly didn't like what she had heard.

"Oh no you don't. Look, she's clearly still hungry. I understand that you think it's embarrassing to do this here, but it's perfectly natural for a father to be breastfeeding his daughter out in public, and no one in their right mind is going to care unless you make a big show waving your great big udders around for everyone to see. Besides, my feet are killing me and right now I really need to just sit down for a few minutes. Now here," she hoisted the tender infant into his arms, "take the baby and when she's good and fed we can go find you a new shirt."

He looked like he was going to say something back to her, but between her expression and the little girl suddenly in his arms, he seemed to think better of it. Red faced, he held up the child to his naked breast where it instinctively locked on and began to suckle.

The father seemed to relax considerably as the hungry child fed. A part of me wondered what that felt like. I had an interesting opportunity here, maybe I could find out. But... no... I don't think I really wanted to give up my boobs. While his were certainly very nice and very very big, mine were shapelier by far.

I could probably separate the actual lactation from the boobs though, couldn't I? If I made my boobs lactate, would they change shape to accommodate the shift in physiology? I wondered if lactating with small boobs felt any different from lactating with big boobs. Could I swap the lactation onto men without giving them boobs at all?

I began to look around for some interesting test subjects, but my attention crashed like a ship against the rocks that were Evan's sweet swaying spheres.

My jaw dropped as I (eventually) looked up at Evan's face. I couldn't believe how much he had done with so little. It was subtle, but powerful. All the little pores and flaws on his face were completely gone, to say the least, and the way his eyes seemed to stand out made him seem alert and well-rested. I hadn't even noticed the little bags under his eyes before, but they were gone now.

Without any major changes to his face he had gone from a 7 to a 9. I had never been one of those girls who put a lot of time and thought into makeup, but damn, if was amazing what a little concealer and eyeliner could do. Had he colored his lips? They looked so juicy, but it was so subtle I could hardly tell. I'd have been jealous if I wasn't the one who gave him this amazing skill in the first place.

"Oh my god!" I said. "You look amazing!"

"What, this?" He preened demurely. "Thank you, baby, but this is nothing. I still feel half naked." He laughed, then paused a moment before adding, "And not in the good way." He winked. "Still, it'll be enough for today, I suppose. I hope I didn't leave you waiting too long. I'm always doing that."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about it," I said, looking over at the couple. "I found something to occupy my time."

"I'm sure you did." He looked down at the device and gave me a wry smile. "So, I was thinking. Maybe we should skip ahead a bit and check out Stephan's. After that fiasco in the department store, I don't think any of these other boutiques - nice as they are - are really going to do the trick, you know?"

"Wait, Stephan's?" I asked. "Isn't that the place that sells all that, like, comically slutty stuff?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, isn't that where Elizabeth bought her little 'Open for Business' skirt? The one she said she totally bought as a joke and then I found all those pictures of her online wearing it out to the clubs."

"Oh, right! Yeah, I guess they do have some pretty unsubtle stuff."

"I mean who in their right mind," I laughed, "would actually wear that sort of thing? You're literally just advertising yourself as an easy lay."

Evan paused and moment and glanced over in the direction of the fountain. "I mean, yeah it's a little out there, but like... it's not like there's anything wrong with that or anything, right? I mean, if you have the body to show it off, why not have some fun with it?"

Oh. Oh no. Of course. My poor sweet boy had had exactly that sort of thing in mind when he'd recommended it. I should have been more careful with my words. I hadn't hurt his feelings or anything had I? And, uhg, wasn't this exactly what I had wanted? Hadn't I wanted him to dress all slutty? Hadn't new me wanted to dress both of us to drop jaws? If sexy and provocative are what we were aiming for, what better place to start than a store that stood out as trashy even in this town?

I stood up and gave Evan a great big reassuring hug. "You know what baby? You're right. What's the point in looking good if you're not going to show it off a bit, huh? And hey," I gave his ass a gentle squeeze, "trust me when I say that you look good."

He brightened back up as I said this, his big beautiful smile spreading across his face. I like to think it was the compliment that did the trick, but honestly? He was probably just excited by the prospect of more shopping.

Little did I know that that was one of the last times I'd ever see Evan smile like that. If only I had known then what I knew now I'd have stopped to appreciate it, to savor it for all it was worth. But instead, like the animal that I was, my gaze was glued thoroughly to his tits.

To be continued in Part 5: Booty Language.