Genetics are a bitch, I remember from my youth that my grandmother had giant breasts. When you are a kid, and she is coming at you to give you a big hug and kiss, her breasts just are enormous and swallow you whole until she releases you.
Later, I see that my mother is also ginormous. She is not overly over weight, but her bras on the line just caught the wind and exploded in a giant sail. And then, my sister was also so big that she had to have a reduction just to be able to walk normal.
So, I shouldn't be surprised that I also have huge breasts, but I am a male. My breasts were always big growing up, so big that a doctor checked my genetics, and checked for a disease called gynecomastia. Which I didn't have, just had a big chest. In High School, they were so big it hurt when I got hit in the chest in football because of the shoulder pads pinching down. I won't go into the teasing here, that is another story.
This story takes place much later in life. I married a woman who had a young daughter, just turning 10. She was a great kid, but her mom didn't teach her manners too much. So, the first thing she said when she saw me with a white t-shirt on was "Mom, why does he have breasts like you? I thought boobs were just for girls?" I don't know how she explained it, but it didn't stop her from keeping up talking about it all through her teen years, and into her 20s.
She would come up to me and ask if I was comfortable. I would say sure, why, and she would ask if I was in pain from my breasts not in a bra. I would just turn back to what I was doing and ignore it. Or she would come up from behind me and grab one and say "Hmmmm, I think a C". I would yell "Cut it out" and go about my business. Then once, she came into the house early home from school. I was walking from the kitchen to the bedroom without my shirt, and she just stared. I stopped, looked at what she was looking at, and then started walking briskly, covering my chest like a woman would.
But I wasn't fast enough. She ran up and said "yep, big B or a C. Just admit it, and let's get you measured". I said no, and pushed past and got into the master bed room and shut the door.
Now let's fast forward. My marriage was going downhill, and I found food to be the only thing that made me happy, so I started gaining weight. But, unlike most men, the first place I put on weight is my chest and legs... yeah, just like a woman. Well, I wore sweatshirts, and big bulky things to keep my daughter from really noticing them. I would avoid her except when I was sitting down, and when I would hear her coming I would evade as quick as I could.
Fast forward a little more, I move out. Soon, my step daughter asks if she can move in with me because she is experiencing the same thing from her mom. I would never refuse her in this and gave her a room, and I slept on the couch. It's nice. She is a great roommate. Cleans, cooks, doesn't bring weird people home. I am loving it.
One night, she said she has some booze and wants to know if I would share. Sure would! We sat on the back porch and drank quite a few. I was getting warm and took off my sweat shirt, and she saw my larger breasts for the first time for real. Being a couple of sheets to the wind, she said "Dad, really, let's just see what size you are. It's just you and me. Let's do it." I said "You are never going to let this go are you? Fine, if this will get you over this, let's do it."
She goes in and grabs that floppy measuring tape from her sewing kit. She makes me take off my shirt, and puts the tape around my body, just under my breasts. She then puts it under my arm pits, then measures around the fullest part, over the nipples. "Jesus Dad, you are a double D! I never thought you were that big, but I..." and she measured me again. She sat down, pulled out her phone (I thought she wanted to take a photo) and typed something into it. "You didn't tell someone did you?" She said, "No, just wanted to make sure. A double D dad. That is awesome!" "Well if you think so." I said. "I'm going to bed". And walked off to her protests.
A couple of days went by and I didn't think another thing of it, and she hadn't mentioned my breasts since then. I thought we were all done! But, one night, I fell asleep in a lounge chair in the living room. I was awoken to her rustling through a bag and I asked what was up. She said "I got you something!" all sweet and cheery. She pulled out this beige bra with a red lace over it, and it was way bigger than what she would wear. I just stared, still kind of sleepy, and she said again "This is for you, Dad. Just try it on, you will see how much better you feel". "Fuck, I thought we were over this." I said. She said "Dad, we can wait until I get you drunk again to get what I want, or you can just do it now" as it dawned on me she had that booze so I would let her measure. Fuck. What a manipulative little minx.
I sat there, thought she has already seen my breasts naked, what is the difference. So, I said "Ok, sure"
She must have jumped three feet in the air and yipped! "Stand up, and take off that sweatshirt" So I did, and the t-shirt underneath. I was now just standing there in my shorts. She walked behind me and wrapped her arms under my arms around my chest. I felt really weird, but didn't stop it. I was in it to finish it.
She told me to put my hands through the straps, which I did, and she then pulled the strap tight behind me. It was pinching and painful. She came in front of me and said, "Oh, bend over" so I did. She slid her hand in the side of the bra, around my breast, and pulled and my breast just dropped into the cup. Then she did the same thing with the other side, and the pinching and pain just went away! "Ok, stand up". When I did, she had the strangest and oddly proud look on her face. "So much better than I had expected!" Let's get over to a mirror!
Walking over to the mirror, I can feel my breasts just jiggle and jiggle inside the bra. But, strangely, I could breathe easier, and felt my back pain ease a bit. Then I saw myself. I had a real pair of breasts! And to quote Seinfeld, they were amazing! Me! With better breasts than my daughter, or my wife!
She stood there, looking at the mirror, at me, at the mirror. And said "That just won't do. Come on" She grabbed me by the hand and we walked into the bathroom. She rummaged around in the cupboard and came out with some Nair hair removal. Now we are crossing a line! No way. No Never.
"Dad, what, it will grow back? Who sees you naked now, well except me? You have gone this far, and if you don't like it, it will grow back! Hair always does". I had to admit, she had a point, and I kinda wanted to see just how much better my tits were than my X's.
She went behind me, unhooked my bra, and whispered "never unhooked someone else's bra before, crazy" under her breath, but I laughed out loud, but she was all business. She had me wash up my chest and shoulders, and she washed my back. She then spread this stuff all over my chest and stomach, shoulders, and then my back and arms. While I was sitting there getting chemical burned, she went into the other room and wrustled around in a bag and brought back another... thing. We then washed off the Nair, and hair, and I faced me, with a nice set of breasts, clean and softer than I would have ever expected.
She said "Perfect! Nice, they look beautiful Dad" which was an odd sentence to hear. Put this on first. It was something stretchy, that she explained that I needed to step through feet first through the neck part.
And I had to take off my shorts.
"Honey, come on, this is going too far". "No, Dad, I have to see this through! I have been thinking about this since I was 13, and now that I have you this far, we need to finish it. Do it." "Ok, get out of here.", which she did and I put them on.