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No, this whine was mechanical, and accompanied by a low rumble. Kamsy was home. I stood up, and saw her Mustang, a Roush stage 3, pull into our driveway. I felt the same way I felt every day when she came home safely. Relieved. Lucky. Thankful. I was already on my way to greet her when I heard her voice. "Agunna? Honey? I'm home," she called. Her tone was happy. It wasn't always the case. Her face lit up when she saw me at the top of the stairs, and she opened her arms to welcome my hug. I embraced her, squeezing her tight. Most of the time, that hug would have her soft, voluptuous chest pressed tight against me, but today, all I felt was body armour. While it wasn't normal for her to wear it home, it wasn't that unusual either, a result of simple geography. Sometimes, she was closer to home than her precinct at the end of her shift. Despite the Kevlar, I held her close. My hands caressed her back, feeling the extra mags for her service weapon in the back pouches of her vest. My arm. I liked the weight of my body squeezing my tits flat. It felt nice. Then August happened. I got big! Not Billie Eilish or Sydney Sweeny big but large “D” cup big. I still liked to sleep on my stomach feeling the pressure squeezing my newly acquired tits as flat as they would go.As school approached, I started to think about a bra. I’d never owned one. If you were flat and wore baggy clothes then why go to the discomfort of those tight straps. During those last few weeks when I actually had something that jiggled, I had just covered it with loose-fitting tops. This was embarrassing. I snuck into my younger sister’s room. Although she’s two years younger, she had actually gotten tits when she was twelve. Fuck! I knew enough not to take her current underwear so I found a drawer with a lot of old bras in it and grabbed a handful scurrying back to my room.Fuck! Just my luck, I snagged her first bras with small cups. But I got curious. What would it feel like? Luckily my sister and I had.
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