John walked in to Sabrina's bedroom, expecting an all-mighty row. At the very least he would receive the silent treatment, until she decided he had suffered enough. Instead she smiled at him, and patted the bed for him to sit.
"I'm sorry John, it's all my fault. I gave you that damn control thing. I didn't realise it would . . . Well, you know," she sheepishly spoke.
He didn't know what to say. She was acting coy, which was something new. She could be a bitch sometimes. He stared at her, wondering if this was a prelude to something. Was she waiting for him to say the wrong thing?
"You're not angry with me are you?" she hesitantly asked.
"No, of course not. It wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened," he offered, trying to figure out what mood she was in.
"I guess. Can we try and get back to how things were?" she asked.
She was looking at him intently, waiting for his reaction.
"If we can get over what happened, yea. I want to try," he sincerely added.
"I'm glad. I've got to live with these for awhile," she said, while cupping her breasts under the sheet.
"What? Oh! Are they still, I mean, are they alright?" he asked. He felt wary from knowing he had done that to her body. He had left the device on the sofa, while it worked away at her, and her mother too. Not that he realised what it was for, which was some consolation.
"They don't hurt or anything. They should start going down, maybe by the end of the week. You saw them last night, do you think they've gone down. What do you think?" Sabrina asked, and lowered the sheet.
His first reaction was to say they looked great. "They might have, it's hard to tell," he said, trying not to look too interested. The sonic device certainly did a good job. They were big and firm. They looked pert, he decided, but kept quiet.
"Do you like them? Like this I mean," she asked.
"Yes, err, they're OK. It'll be better when back to normal," he said, trying to sound reassuring.
"Perhaps you had better take advantage while you can," she boldly stated, with a giggle. She took his hands to press them against her chest.
"You like them like this, don't you?" she plaintively asked.
"Yes, they're nice. I just meant. . . Well, it'll be OK, just give it time," John said, trying to be neutral. It was too distracting to fathom what she wanted to hear, while holding a large pair of breasts. They were certainly a couple of sizes bigger than normal, at least.
"I'm not used to them. It all happened so quickly. It feels better when you touch them. They kind of ache. Would you do me a favour?" she coyly asked.
"Sure, anything," he agreed, not really listening.
"Would you, err. This sounds terrible, maybe I shouldn't ask," she demurred.
"It's OK. Ask away, anything you want," he murmured.
"Well. They kind of ache, all tingly. I wondered if you would kiss them, just to see if it helps," she quietly asked.
John didn't say a word. He nodded. It was exactly what he was thinking, though not for therapy. He shuffled closer on the bed. She cupped a breast, offering it up to him. He leaned forward to take as much of the breast as possible into his mouth. Feeling a nipple hardening, he sucked it.
"That feels much better," she cooed. "Lay down next to me, closer," she encouraged.
John felt a breast nudging his ear. With encouragement he began sucking hard on the nipple. He wrapped both hands around the plump breast, and gently squeezed.
"That feels so good. The other one. Suck it hard. Try nibbling, gently," she warned.
They had never bothered much with her breasts before. Not when cuddling, or during foreplay. Now they were so sensitive, it felt arousing.
"Do you want to. . . Do you want to do it?" she asked, in a breathless whisper.
John unwrapped his hand from around a breast to push it under the sheet. He was surprised to find her legs weren't tightly pressed together as usual. She had spread them before he even touched her thigh. He would remember to pay her breasts more attention in future.
His fingers hardly touched her, when she began panting. She was pulling at him.
"I'm ready, are you?" she asked. There was no need to ask, as she had a firm grip of his cock. Her hand had delved in while he was sucking on her nipples.
"Now John, I need you," she whispered.
Not waiting for him to get undressed she pulled his cock from the jeans. He reluctantly let go of a nipple, as she frantically pulled at him. As he manoeuvred on top, she guided his hips.
"Do it to me, John. Fuck me!" she breathlessly implored.
This was all new too, only he was past thinking about how she normally behaved. She wasn't a prude, though never so eager as this.
Feeling him enter her body she let out a low moan. Although usually quiet, they had never dared make love while her mother was home. Now she was gasping for air with exhaled guttural noises.
"Fuck me hard! Harder," she demanded.
"I'm nearly there! Up a bit," she implored him, while shoving hard with her hips. His cock was rubbing her clit as he thrust in with strong long strokes.
They both exploded together, and deflated into the soft bed. The cooing sounds intermingled, as for that moment their climax became one shared sensation. His was one of arriving and getting off. Hers was the moment of intensity in a continuing journey. They lay back together breathing heavily.
"I needed that," she sighed.
"Your different. That was great," he smiled.
"Keep doing that its nice," she encouraged. Her nipples were still sensitive to his strokes and caresses. She put an arm around him cuddling his face to her breasts. "You certainly like them," she giggled.
Sabrina was listening to his muffled compliments. She was thinking about what he said. "What did you mean, different?" she asked, lifting his head away from a breast.
