"I just sometimes wish that I had bigger breasts," said Ms. Watson.
"But your breasts are already big," said Jon as he caressed the two mounds of womanflesh, eliciting a moan of pleasure from his lover. "And they're all natural, not surgically enhanced like most girls with a chest your size are. You have one of the most beautiful busts I've ever seen."
"Thank you for the compliment," said Ms. Watson. "I know that I'm big, but it's just not enough for me. Part of my bisexuality is an obsession with breasts. I love breasts. I love having breasts. I want my breasts to be as big and sensitive as possible. I have this recurring fantasy that my breasts are as big as I can physically carry and are as sensitive as my clitoris. In my fantasy, the mere act of caressing and fondling my breasts is not only sufficient to give me pleasure, but also to induce the most intense orgasms that I am capable of physically experiencing."
"I don't think that sounds stupid at all," said Jon. "I know that I sound like the stereotypical breast-obsessed teenage boy, but its perfectly normal to want to look attractive, even if your standard is a little different from others. I want to be as handsome as possible, too. Most people who might say that your wish is strange probably have similar desires to look attractive, but in different ways." Both Jon and Ms. Watson, increasinly aroused by both their frank discussion and naked bodies, began drawing each other into thier arms and as the musk-scented rutting began again, Jon began exploring ways to give Ms. Watson what she wanted.
