A shudder races down your spine as you watch the pictures slow. You wonder if it's too late to delete that picture of the chick with the tits that were bigger than her head.
The idea also occurs that it's working on your mental state, with the insecure bunny girl. You cross your fingers, and start muttering 'please, oh please.' under your breath until it finally stops on the generously curved blonde.
As your bust swells, you feel the threads of your underwear shift, weaving themselves into decorative flourishes, it tickles your breasts, and you suppress a giggle even as the weight builds on your shoulders.
You hold yourself back from tugging at the straps. As you do, you feel the caress of the fabric as it shifts and tickles your curvy rear. The barely there gown slips off your silken shoulders coming to rest in the crook of your elbows.
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