Hiding M Cups Ch 01

Author's note: All characters are 18 years of age or older.

May adjusted her strap. "It's coming. The company I bought it from is on vacation so I'm stuck wearing whatever until..."

"Huh?"

"I mean, five people work there and they make the bras by hand so they can't work every day."

"I asked how your job hunt was going."

"I thought you said 'bra hunt.' Did you say that?"

"No, of course not. Bra hunt?"

May pulled on the bottom of her shirt. "Oh, job hunt. I'll have a job by my birthday, at the end of the summer."

"You have one lined up?"

May tugged again. "No, but I'm getting my resume together."

Small talk ended as May became aware of her clenched hand, became embarrassed, and piddled away. She hid behind a plant in the corner of the room while the old man she spoke with rejoined his wife who asked, "Who was that girl?"

He pointed his nose. "Susie's daughter, remember her? She used to come around but we haven't seen her in years."

"That's her?"

"It is."

"Her chest..."

"I know. She told me she was bra hunting"

"Why would she tell you that?"

"I asked about job hunting and she thought I said 'bra hunting.'"

"That's the strangest thing I've ever heard."

"She is a nervous girl. Kept tugging her shirt. I don't think she realized it."

"Tugging her shirt and mentioning her bra? She was doing that on purpose."

"Trust me, she was not."

May rejoined the get-together which was the party of one of her mother's friends, a boring, adult party. May had been mingling with them and was exhausted. Her mom sat at a table talking loudly and happily and May knew she'd be doing that for at least an hour more so she went to the bathroom to kill time. There, she undid her bra, spooned her breasts from their cups, and let them hang, taking up the space between her and the sink. They were pillowcase-sized, vanilla-white, and hung a foot down, laid a foot across, and amassed ten pounds each. They wobbled like the moon seen through the eyes of a drunk.

"Is someone in there?" a voice asked from behind the bathroom door.

May took toilet tissue and patted sweat beads that had developed along the wireline of her bra. Tissue pieces broke across her chest but May couldn't be bothered to care. Her anxiety was high and her hand jittered as it went. "One minute."

"Sorry, I need to go badly," the voice said.

May bent over to grab baby powder under the sink. Her rib cage yawned as she went, pulling into a U shape. Cartilage between her vertebra made popping sounds.

"I can't be any quicker." May said. She slammed the powder on the countertop and the room filled with white mist. She grabbed her red top with her white fingers, got dressed, and opened the door. On the other side, a petite woman stood with buckled knees.

"I needed more time in there!" May whisper-shouted, walking passed.

The woman's head turned, confused at the sight of the white mist and enormous bust. "Uh..."

"What?"

"I have a condition," the woman replied, looking sorry.

May stood at the top of the steps. "Me too!"

Though she clenched her muscles, the woman lost control of her bladder. Urine came down her legs and she hustled into the bathroom, almost falling over. May leapt to her and got the door slammed in her chest.

"I need a mop," the woman said from the other side of the door. It opened and her face peaked out, "I had an accident."

May ran down the steps, her chest thumping. She searched for the host of the party. Lucky for her, she opened what she thought was a closet and found a big sponge and a bucket. "Let me help," she said, handing the supplies through the door crack.

"I'm cleaning up own mess," the lady said as she handed a pair of car keys through the door. "Go to my car, please, and get the pair of jeans that are in the back seat."

May did as told. After giving the pants to the woman, May waited outside and eventually the door opened. She went in and saw the woman on the toilet with her wet jeans in the tub and her hands covering her face.

"I am so sorry," May said.

"Like I said, it's a condition. And unfortunately it's getting worse."

The women sat in silence. Uncharacteristically, May volunteered information about herself. "Mine is getting worse too. I'm getting bigger..."

"It's your chest?"

"Yeah. My body doesn't know when it's done growing."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Yeah. But there's nothing to be done. I'm handling it myself anyway, learning to get by. Maybe, like you, I should keep an extra bra in the car just in case."

The woman smiled. "It took me a while to admit that my problem was as bad as it was. But after feeling an accident coming on at the beach and having to run in the ocean to relieve myself, I realized I couldn't ignore the problem away."

"Has this happened before? I mean, when you didn't have an ocean right there?"

"This is the second time. What about you? Ever ruin a blouse because you didn't have baby powder nearby?"

"I never burst a blouse."

"I didn't say 'burst.' I said ruin, because of the sweat."

"Yeah. I don't wear nice blouses often. I'd probably just burst them anyway."

"I didn't say 'burst,' dear."

"I know."

"Well, the first time my bladder gave me the middle finger, I was in a nice restaurant and it mortified me. I had to go home and leave my food still hot. I'd been feeling my bladder weaken for years but I never treated it. I thought doctors were invasive but I was wrong, and I needed the help all along."

"I don't need a doctor."

"I didn't say you did. I'm just sharing my story. From one woman to another, your chest is...quite dominant on your frame."

"I know that." May tugged the bottom of her shirt. Powder shook off and the tissue left under her bra soaked freely formed sweat beads.

"Are you growing quickly?"

"I don't know what size I am anymore. But I'm sure I'll be bigger by the end of the summer."

"Oh, you sound like myself a few years ago, thinking I could handle things. What's the matter with seeing a doctor? Don't you think you're big enough?"

"Of course, I'm big enough. I was always big enough but I'm handling it."

"It's your life. I just had my epiphany about reaching out for help and wanted to share it, plus, us women have enough problems and we get enough attention already. I'm sure you know that."

"I'm feeling huge right now."

"I can imagine."

"No. I mean, right now."

"Huh?"

"Sometimes I get the feeling of being really big, like, as if I'm actually growing. It usually happens when I'm nervous. Can you leave me alone in the bathroom, please?"

"Can I help you?" The lady put her hand on May's knee. May looked down and saw only forearm.

"No. I just really want to take my bra off and calm down."

The woman took her jeans from the tub and put them in a plastic bag and left the bathroom. May closed the door, exhaled, and hung her undressed breasts in front of the window, with the blinds closed so the wind aimed down her skin. She needed to go home. She needed those bra makers to get back to her e-mail. She needed that woman to vanish so she never had to look at her again and be reminded of the phrase, "quite dominant on your frame."

May held her M-cup bra and fondled the tag. "I need to stop growing this summer," she thought to herself. "I swear to God, double N cup and that's it."