I'm James, a bit on the taller side at 6'5," and leaner at 210lb. We've been dating for a while now and living together for a little over a year. When we heard about a new procedure that allowed a small amount of fat transfer we were immediately intrigued.

The week after the transfer was relatively normal. Your already respectable C cups were instantly pumped up to a large DD. The doctor said that the growth may continue slowly for the next week or two, and neither of us had aaaany complaints about that.

We decided to buy you a few larger bras and whatnot just in case. A little over a week has passed from the procedure and we're just waking up.

"Babe, wake up...I think you've grown again." I say as I shake you gently. Your now slightly larger ass continues rocking for a moment afterwards.

I look down at you curled up on the bed. Your chest looks huge...bigger than it did last night. I hand you an F cup bra, the largest that we bought in preparation for your growth and you're absolutely spilling out of it.

"Holy shit, looks like we're making another shopping trip."