Fashion Lesson

I stood there, still thinking this had to be some sort of hallucination. I wrapped my arm around my beach ball-sized tits, trying to lift them. For a hallucination, it sure was killing my back.

My girlfriend smirked. "I'm waiting."

It started as a normal evening with the two of us sitting around, not talking much. She watched some stupid fashion show on TV while I messed around on my phone. Eventually, I got bored and decided to say something dumb.

"Babe, can you please put on something else? This is so boring."

Sarah rolled her eyes at me. "As if anything you want to watch is so much better? I think it's interesting. They teach you a lot about the fashion industry."

Unfortunately, I have a nasty habit of running my mouth. "Please, any big-titted bimbo could figure out how to design a dress."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh really? I'd like to see you try. Teach me, since you seem to know everything about everything."

"You know, I'd love to, but..."

"But nothing. One of us is about to learn a very important lesson."

Fun fact: that's the moment I discovered that my girlfriend has some sort of supernatural powers. Her eyes started to glow, the lights flickered, wind from nowhere blew indoors... the whole nine yards. Just before everything went dark, I caught a smirk creep across her lips.


When the lights finally came back, I nearly fell over in shock. Actually, that's not true. At first, I nearly fell over from the sudden weight on my chest, then from shock when I realized what was going on. The room had changed, but more importantly, so had I.

My hands shot out in front of me, trying to disprove what my eyes had already seen. To my dismay, I grabbed two handfuls of positively massive breasts, held in place by a frilly but heavy-duty bra. Every sensation felt magnified a thousand times. Hair draped across the back of my neck and tickled my collarbone. My legs rubbed together, barely separated by sheer black stockings. A set of high heels simultaneously pinched my feet and forced my ass uncomfortably upwards.

As I basically felt myself up, Sarah looked on in smug amusement. "Well, 'professor', you've got a classroom and a student. Time to get teaching!"

I must have looked comical up there, mouth agape. "But you-- I'm a... a..."

"A big-titted bimbo? All the better for you to prove your point." In a menacing tone, she added, "The longer this takes, the worse it will get."

Worse than this? I stepped hesitantly over to the blackboard. While I'm normally pretty quick on my feet, I hadn't fully acclimated to my new ones. I felt lost as I tried to figure out where to begin.

As if reading my mind (was she?), Sarah suggested, "Why don't you start with some different styles of dresses?"

What had they been talking about in her show? "Well, you have the a-line... um... and the b-line?"

"BZZZZT! Wrong!"

"OK, geez! Um, there's wedding dresses, and prom dresses, sundresses, sexy cocktail dresses, and super cute dresses for dancing in the clubs!"

Sarah smiled, so I figured she liked that answer better. I tried to come up with what to say next, but I was too distracted. I know bras are supposed to prevent back pain, but the straps digging into my shoulders were making it impossible to think.


"I'm sorry, um, class, but this just has to come off." I reached behind my back, fighting with the hooks and jutting my rack out even farther before I felt the tension release. "Ahhh," I sighed. I'd fallen halfway out of my dress and my boobs definitely hung lower, but the relief was worth it.

"Looking good, babe!" she cracked before letting out a wolf whistle. I just rolled my eyes, but I'll admit it was actually kind of fun showing off my chest.

"Anyways, next lesson. Um, it's important to pick the right materials. Because, like, some materials are light and flowy, and others are more stretchy. You want something really stretchy for a dress like mine so it can show off your hot booty!"

"That's right. What about taking measurements?"


I scrambled, trying to come up with a good answer. "Oh!" I squealed as I spotted a measuring tape on the desk. "That's a really smart question. So, girls have all different sized boobies. That's why it's important to measure them before you start sewing the dress."

I held the tape up to my chest, unsure of exactly how to use it. Maybe it had something to do with how far apart your nipples were? Why not. I stretched the tape from one nipple to the other as my melons bounced around. "OK, so I'm, like, a 128 in boob size, so I'd have to make the dress big enough for that."

Sarah smiled again; I smiled back. I was totally nailing this! Just like I hope she nails me later. Haha, whoops, I'll be nailing her, since I'm the guy.

"You're doing great, hon. Last question: where does a dress look best?"

I giggled at her question. For some reason, the word "guy" was still bouncing around my head, and I couldn't help but picture a strong, shirtless man. "On a hunk's bedroom floor!"


Sarah laughed as I ditched my garter belt and stood with my boobs swinging freely. "Thanks babe, you did a great job teaching me."

"I told you! Even I could explain it, and I'm just, like, a big-titted bimbo!"

"Haha, you sure are. Should I change back into a guy so we can fuck?"

God, that sounded awesome! All this teaching had made me super horny. Except, something felt wrong, I just couldn't put my finger on it. "Wait... babe, wasn't I a guy before?"

"Don't be silly," he said, his hair getting shorter while the rest of him got taller. Mmm, I love the way his shirt shows off his big muscles. "Does Lexi sound like it could be a guy's name?"

I clapped my hand over my face, feeling totally embarrassed. Duh, of course I was the girl! Why would I even think such a silly thing?