CHAPTER THREE

Fran walked down the street, satisfied with her afternoon lunch at Daisy’s — it had been nice to meet Jill and Marsha, and even though she had given up Timothy to Rhonda, she was still happy that she could have provided her friend with such a lovely little present.  Fran had a lot of admiration for Rhonda, and it made her feel warm inside to know that she had helped her finally find a young man who suited her size preferences.  

‘But Timothy!’ thought Fran as she continued on down the sidewalk, ‘Wow!  What a cutie he was!”  She almost regretted giving up the pretty little thing, but he was Rhonda’s type, and a tad too small for her tastes.  Still though…his young age, his helplessness, that adorable little toss of hair on his head…it really got Fran’s juices flowing.  It wasn’t every day that a woman just found a tiny little man on the side of the street.  

She scoffed inwardly at Rhonda’s fun little censure of her choice to use Timothy as her fart blocker.  ‘Oh please, Rhonda,’ she laughed to herself, ‘you know full well that it was one of my better ideas!’  She laughed to herself, wondering how much worse it would have been at Daisy’s luncheon had she not had the tiny little Timothy in her ass to absorb the brunt of her smelly gas.  

‘Oh well,’ she thought wistfully, ‘he’s gone now — he’s with Rhonda, where he belongs.’  Even though Fran almost hated to admit it, the little man had ended up with the right woman.  She sighed as she continued walking along, feeling especially horny after getting a little taste of the tiny Timothy.  She checked her watch…it was still relatively early in the afternoon; perhaps she’d find some luck at Lane Bryant, which is where she was headed now.  She was in dire need of some new bras to fit her massive breasts, and some new underwear to contain her hulking ass.  

‘Maybe I’ll find some tiny little man who’s right up my alley at the store,’ she thought to herself.  ‘After all, Lane Bryant touts themselves as an equal opportunity employer for men and women alike.’  She remembered seeing a commercial a week or so ago — a ravishing young woman in high heels was talking to the camera in front of the “Lane Bryant” logo, and her words rang out in Fran’s head as she rounded the street corner and saw the department store ahead.

“Lane Bryant!” the full-grown young woman’s chipper voice had said, “The equal opportunity department store where we’ll find a job for you!”  She had then pointed a long, red-nailed, manicured finger at the camera.  “And that means you men, too!  No job is too small for a man, no matter how small you are!”

Fran chuckled to herself as she entered the store.  ‘Lane Bryant’s advertising division sure had fun making that commercial,’ she thought to herself.  She looked around the brightly-lit store, taking in a deep breath through her nostrils, smelling the fresh scent of new clothes as she scanned around.  Perhaps she’d find a small man in here, a bit bigger than Timothy, more fitting for her.  She began traversing through the aisles of hanging clothes, patiently making her way towards the bra section.  Worst case, she’d at least come home with a new bra and panties that weren’t so worn out. 

 As she approached the bra section, Fran’s eyes happened to be drawn to a certain display table, and her heart leapt in excitement.  She could hardly believe her luck!  Standing on the display table, no taller than 7 inches, was a young man who was busy folding some exceptionally large bras.  He was stacking them in a pile next to him, a pile which already rose to about half his height.  Fran stopped in her tracks, staring in wonder at the tiny young man.  She hadn’t seen someone so perfectly sized since her late husband!  He was a little taller than Timothy, a full two inches by the looks of him — and as Fran looked closer she could see that he was her type in more ways than just height.  He was definitely young, still in his teens, she was sure, and skinny, just the way she liked them!  Plus, on top of all that, he was cute to boot!  

She approached the display table, which was just above her waist height, and therefore just below the height of her breasts, which were so big that they almost reached her waist.  As she approached, Fran had to take several deep breaths to calm herself down, because her closer proximity to this miniature young man had made her realize something else: she knew him!  He was her old neighbor’s son…Peter!  She couldn’t believe it — it felt like yesterday that she had lived right next door to him.  He was such a young thing back then; he was in school, and barely five inches tall.  Fran had always thought he was adorable when she went over to his mom’s place for drinks.  

 Of course, since Peter was a young boy back then, Fran had not dreamed of doing anything sexual with him, but she knew that he’d end up handsome one day.  But as she looked at Peter now, she had to admit that he was a little beyond handsome — hell, he was drop dead gorgeous!  He had wonderful pale skin and a lovely head of golden blond hair.  And he looked beyond adorable folding up the giant bras that were meant for breasts many, many times the size of his own body.  

 ‘My goodness, how he’s grown!’ thought Fran excitedly as she approached him.  He finished folding one of the bras in the stack he was making, and then bent down and, with effort, began to lug up a fresh new bra to fold.  It was right then Fran decided that she simply had to have him.  She strode up to him confidently.  

 “Hello!” she said down to him, flashing him a bright smile as she walked right up to where he was folding on the display table.  

 “Hello ma’m,” said Peter respectfully, lowering the giant bra that he was folding.  “Can I help you?”  But almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he looked hard up at Fran’s face and recognized her as the neighbor lady he and his mom used to talk to in passing. 

 “Oh!” he said in surprise, “I think…I think…I know you!  You’re Mrs….um…Mrs — ”

 “You can just call me Fran!” she said happily.  “I was your neighbor years ago!”

 “Y-yes, yes that’s right!” said Peter, smiling genially.  “You and my mom were friends and used to get drinks together at our place!”

 “That’s right,” said Fran, smiling.  “It’s been so long!  And you were definitely cute now, but Peter…my goodness — you’ve grown into quite the handsome young man, I must say!”  

 His tiny little cheeks grew a shade of crimson as he blushed at her compliment.  Fran looked at his small rosy cheeks and felt a surge of electricity go through her loins.  God, this boy was hot.  

 “Well actually,” she continued, still smiling down his small form, “I think you can help me today, Peter.  I’m looking for bras in my specific size — I usually have a hard time finding bras that fit me, but I was hoping that Lane Bryant would have what I was looking for.”  As she spoke these words she grabbed each breast with a hand and hefted them up and down slightly.  Peter felt his eyes threaten to bug out of his head.  He was shocked at how tall and large his old neighbor was, especially in her breasts and hips.  He was used to women absolutely dwarfing him, but even he was surprised at how huge Fran was – he was sure that her breasts must be the biggest that he had ever seen!  He stood there for a moment, transfixed by the enormous bulk of her boobs, which seemed to jiggle and quake with the slightest movement. 

 “Uhh…um, uh…what…what size are you, Fran?” he asked, recovering himself enough to ask the basic question.  

 “These babies are 52M,” she said proudly, jiggling them a little more.   

 “52M??” he asked, trying and failing to hide the incredulity in his voice.  He had never heard of breasts being so large!  “Oh!  Umm, well Fran, uh…I’m sorry but we…uh, we only go up to 52L.”

 “Oh I see,” she said Fran, not seemingly bothered by this information.  “I used to be able to squeeze into those.”  As if to demonstrate, she cupped her breasts in each hand and squeezed them, causing the breast fat to explode out of her grip.  “But the thing is,” she continued, enjoying Peter’s astounded reaction to her breast antics, “I think I’ve grown a little bigger recently, and I’m not sure if she still can still fit into that size.”  

 “Oh…uh…I, uh…ok,” said Peter, trying to remain calm in the midst of Fran’s breast onslaught.  

 “The bra I’m wearing now might be able to work,” continued Fran, winking at down Peter, “even though it is a little snug.  The thing is, I forget what size it is.”

 “Oh that’s not a problem,” said Peter officially, happy to slide into a more professional role as he pointed his little finger across the store, “We have fitting rooms right over there where you can check your…um, your bra size.”  

 “Nonsense!” laughed Fran, waving away Peter’s suggestion with her big hand.  “The tag on the bra I’m wearing is just right in the front.”  She stepped a little closer to the display table, so that Peter actually felt himself get swallowed up in Fran’s shadow.  

 The thing is, though,” she said, her voice a little lower now, “I don’t have my reading glasses, so I’m gonna need a little help.”  With that, she then bent down slightly, grabbed both her huge bra-covered breasts from underneath her tank top, and released them onto the table just in front of Peter.  They made a loud “splat!” sound as they came down hard on the display table, causing Peter to jump back in alarm.  

 Fran chuckled a little at his reaction.  Her huge nipples were jutting out from behind her bra fabric as gestured down to them.  “I know, I know,” she laughed, “it can be a little jarring when you see my nips all hard and pointing straight at ya.  I mean, how did they even get so big and hard, right?  Haha, well young man, all I have to say is that sometimes middle age can be a little too generous at times.  I hope you don’t mind them.”  

 “Uh…n-no, no, that’s…they’re…uh, fine,” said Peter, swallowing nervously.  She chuckled again, appreciating Peter’s anxious and dubious reaction as she peeled out the front tag.  “Can you read what it says there, Peter?” she asked kindly.

 Peter felt a marked sense of discomfort as he regarded Fran’s massive breasts before him.  She was certainly forcing him to skirt the boundaries of professionalism with her request…but…he definitely did not want to alienate his huge old neighbor.  Besides, it wasn’t like she was asking him to touch her breasts or anything like that.  He approached the huge, sweaty masses of fat, bent down, and read the tag, which to him was about the size of a dishrag.  

 Fran took the opportunity of Peter’s close proximity to playfully jiggle her breasts some more.  To Peter it seemed as if two very large boulders of flesh, many times his height and weight, were moving precariously in front of him.  “Mmmmm,” said Fran, practically purring at this point, “I used to love storing Steve down in here between the girls.  You know, when he was still alive and all.”  She shot Peter a provocative look.  “Ever snugged up for a little between-the-breasts nap with an older woman, Peter?”

 “N-no, I—I can’t say that I have,” said Peter, hating that his voice sounded so high-pitched and scared.  But he couldn’t help it; Fran and her mammoth breasts were just too intimidating.  

 “Well, you know, maybe if you help me out enough,” said Fran warmly, “I can let you catch a well-deserved nap right in here. It’s awfully warm ‘n toasty ya know.”  And she extended her index finger and inserted it deep into the dark sweaty chasm between her huge breasts.  Peter had no response to Fran’s suggestion, and simply stood there, rooted to the spot in fear.  

 “What’s the tag say little darling?” asked Fran, inclining her head.  Peter took a deep breath as he swallowed his fear and walked the last few steps over to examine the tag.    

 “It says 52M,” he said, doing his best to hide his astonishment at her size.  

 “Oh that’s too bad!” she said, snapping her fingers in mock frustration.  “Well, since you all don’t have it, I guess I’ll just have to order one online.”

 “I’m…I’m sorry we can’t help you with that, Fran,” said Peter, genuinely apologetic.  

 “Oh that’s quite alright,” said Fran, bending down again to smile at him.  “It’s not your fault, Peter.  Sure, it’s a bit inconvenient for me, but hey, when you have breasts like these, you gotta expect to have a little trouble containing them, am I right?”  

 “R-right,” said Peter, nodding his head.  

 “Now,” said Fran, “you all may not have my bra size, but the least you can do now is help me find some underwear bottoms.  Think you can help me with that, Peter?”  

 “Of…of course, Fran!” he said, excited to be of service.  He turned on the display table and was about to climb down the employee ladder when Fran suddenly made a move.  She reached out and grabbed his little 7-inch body, wrapping her hand and fingers completely around his body.  

 “H-hey!  F-fran, what…what are you doing?” asked Peter in consternation.  

 “What does it look like I’m doing, Peter?” asked Fran, as she walked over toward the underwear display case.  “I’m saving us both a little time.  You don’t mind that, do you Peter?”

“Uhh…uh…n-no, no, that’s, that’s fine,” he said, feeling like he couldn’t really say anything else in his situation.  As Fran walked with him over to the underwear, however, he felt encroaching anxiety at her behavior.  She was rubbing his body, ever so gently, with her thumb as she walked.  Did she realize what she was doing?  He looked up at her face and saw that she was sporting a slight smile.  She knew…and he was just going to have to try and deal with her the best he could.