Packing Clarissa's Genes
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"What?" Bob looked up from the book he was reading. "Did you say bra?"
"Yes," she said. She was dressed for bed, in one of his old T shirts.
"I need a bra and I don't know which one to get."
"You don't wear bras," said Bob.
She turned sideways and arched her back, pulling her shirt in at the
waist. She was used to doing that to tease Matt and it was just an
impulse to do it now.
"I need to start," she said, posturing.
"When did THAT happen?!" he gasped.
"I'm a girl," she said. "We grow breasts, Uncle Bob. If you dated you'd
"Yes but ..." He stared at her chest just like Robby had, initially. "I
mean ..." Clarissa almost laughed. Could it be that Uncle Bob was just
as helpless around a good pair of breasts as other males? "The last
time I looked at you, you were flat!" he blurted.
"Probably," she said. "I went through a growth spurt, I guess."
"Man!" sighed Bob. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed this already.
She wasn't huge, compared to some other women Bob had seen, but if he
had a before picture, nobody would believe this was the same girl. That
sparked something in his mind. He jumped up. "Be right back."
He came back with a picture. It was of the three of them, taken at Six
Flags, the previous summer. Bob was in the middle, with an arm around
each youngster. Clarissa stood there looking somber in shorts and a
tank top. Her legs were thin and there was VERY little pushing the tank
top away from her ribs.
"I can't believe this!" he exclaimed. "You're all grown up!"
"Why thank you," she said, curtsying and holding imaginary skirts. "I
looked at bras and there have to be a hundred and fifty different
kinds. I don't know which one to get."
Bob snorted. "And you think I know about that kind of thing?"
"Well, asking you is better than asking a stranger," she said. "Don't
you know somebody who could tell us what to do?"
"I know lots of women who wear bras," he said. "I don't think any of
them would entertain questions about how they fit them. Not from me,
anyway. You're an internet guru. Why not look it up online? I'm sure
there have to be guides there."
"Of course!" she said, hitting her head with the heel of her hand. "I
don't know why didn't think of that."
"Well, based on what I'm seeing, it's entirely possible that your
brains have sunk down to your chest," he joked.
"That's the stupidest thing I think I ever heard," she said, shaking
her head sadly. "And you're a scientist!"
"Good luck," said Bob. He forced himself to go back to his book, but he
looked up as she walked away. Her hips were swaying. He stared at a
luscious looking butt...and HIPS!
She sure HAD gone through a growth spurt.
Half an hour later, Clarissa came back into the room with a sheet of
paper in her hand.
"This is complicated," she said, looking at the page. "I collated all
the stuff and printed it out. I'm going to have to have help, though."
"Help with what?" asked Bob.
"Measurements," she said. "I need dozens of measurements."
"It sure seems like it."
Bob got up. He went to the junk drawer in the kitchen and dug through
it. He came up with a bedraggled yellow cloth measuring tape that had
seen better days. Still, the numbers could be read.
"I have no idea where I got this, or why I got it," he said. "But it's
a good thing I did. What's first?"
What was first was something Clarissa had thought about as she did her
research. Uncle Bob had looked at her with the same look in his eyes
that Matt had when he looked at her. She recognized that look and it
made her horny. Guys at school did it too, however it didn't have the
same effect when they did it. She liked the attention, but didn't get
all that horny, usually. That she DID get horny when Matt or
Uncle Bob looked at her, she chalked up to the fact that she loved
them. They were her special men, always there for her, and she knew
they'd ALWAYS be there for her, no matter what.
To be fair, she didn't actually think of Bob as a potential sexual
partner at that point. But she loved teasing Matt, and she decided it
might be fun to tease Uncle Bob too. If nothing else, she'd feel really
good if he got excited.
So...what was first was for Clarissa to yank her shirt off and stand in
front of her uncle in only her panties. She was proud of herself for
how steady her voice was when she spoke.
"It says here that the first measurement is for band size."
"What?" Bob just stared as his jaw dropped. He couldn't believe the
soft, round orbs he was seeing. The pink tips were well defined and
"You have to measure just under my breasts, and I have to expel all the
air I can. It needs to be as small a measurement as possible without
being too tight." She held her arms out, waiting for him to take the
Bob realized he was holding the tape. With jerky movements he went to
her. She blew out her breath while he wrapped the tape around her ribs.
He stared at her breasts the whole time and his fingers brushed against
the bottoms. Her skin felt hot to the touch. She took in a breath.
He jerked. He hadn't read the tape.
"Blow out again. I got distracted," he sighed. She exhaled again and he
pulled the tape tight. "OK, it's pretty close to thirty-two exactly,"
She looked at the paper in her hand. "OK, we have to add four inches
because it's an even number, so that's thirty-six for the band. Now you
measure around the breasts themselves, at the fullest part."
Bob swallowed. "Um...that would be...um...here," he said, pointing at
"OK. Go ahead." She WAS having fun watching him flush and get all
He could have arranged to read the number on her side, but he wasn't
thinking that way. He pulled the tape around and let it cross right on
one nipple. His fingers brushed the bud, which almost appeared to be
erect, to his mind. He tried to concentrate on the numbers on the tape.
"Mmmmm," she said.
"What?" He sounded anxious.
"Nothing. It just felt kind of nice when you touched me, that's all."
"It's not supposed to feel nice!" he moaned.
"Never mind. What's the measurement?"
"I got distracted again," he sighed. "Let me do it again."
"Make sure the tape is parallel to the floor," she advised.
"It's a little over thirty-five," he said, feeling his penis getting
stiff. "Can I go now?"
"We're not done yet," she said. "There's math to do." She dropped her
arms and wrote the numbers down on the page. "OK, I have to subtract
the over measurement from the band measurement. That's thirty-five
minus thirty-two. That comes out to three inches. According
to this chart, that makes me a thirty-six C."
Bob nodded. "That looks about right." He licked his lips. "I guess."
"OH? Have you seen a lot of thirty-six C boobs?" she asked sweetly.
"I've seen my fair share," he said, wresting some control back over his
emotions. "And I shouldn't be seeing yours at all, young lady!"
"Oh pooh," she said. "You're my Uncle Bob. It's not like you're some
boy at school. I don't mind if you see me like this."
"Well I do," he sighed. "I don't know what happened to you, little
lady, but you're turning into a beautiful young woman and that's hard
on an old man like me."
"You're not that old," she laughed.
"I feel like it right now," he sighed. "Thirty-six C. How about that.
Last summer you were flat as a board."
"Im glad I had my growth spurt," said Clarissa. "I feel much more grown
"I can see why," muttered Bob. "OK, you're a thirty-six C. Are we
done?" He was thinking about going to his room and beating off.
"I need measurements around my hips too," she said. She
started to push her panties down. Bob stopped her,
"We can do that with those on!" he gasped.
"Oh, OK," she said, holding out her arms.
He leaned over and wrapped the tape around the thin cloth of her
panties. He imagined he could smell a woman's arousal and he
almost groaned. "Thirty-four," he croaked.
"Do you think we need to measure around the legs too?" she
asked. She touched her inner thigh just below the panties.
"Like right here?"
Bob imagined putting his hands so close to her pussy and had a vision
of his hand taking on a life of it's own and diving between her
legs. He stood up quickly and had to take a step as he got
light headed. "I think the leg holes stretch to fit," he groaned.
"We're done, right?"
"For now," she said. "There's lots more I need your help with. Now that
we know what size to get me, I have to try them on and there are all
kinds of things that have to be checked."
"Surely you can do that by yourself," he said.
"No," she said. "I'm supposed to just stand there while somebody else
checks the fit. We can do that tomorrow."
"Check the fit," Bob said. His voice sounded hollow.
"Thank you!" yipped Clarissa. She hugged her uncle and kissed him on
the cheek. His hands just naturally went to her naked back.
"Sure," he said, with a breathy voice.
Ten minutes later Bob was lying on his bed, jerking his prick savagely,
thinking about those luscious thirty-six inch breasts he'd touched so
recently. Relief came almost violently as he decided he needed to think
about finding a girlfriend.
Thirty feet away Clarissa and Matt were seeking release too. Clarissa
had ridden Matt through two very nice orgasms and he was beginning to
buck under her.
"You gonna squirt in me now?" she panted.
"Uh huh!" he grunted.
"Good," she purred. "I love it when you squirt in me."
You'd have thought two teenagers on the genius scale would have thought
about the consequences of what she loved so much.
When Bob woke, it was with the memory of a crazy dream he'd had in
which everyone he met or interacted with was a huge breast. The nipples
in his dream had been noses, and each breast had eyes and a mouth too.
He rolled over and relaxed, deciding to stay in bed.
Most Saturdays, at least in the last couple of months, Bob had had to
go in to work for a few hours. On this one, though, that
wasn't required. He lay there, hearing the little sounds that
happen on a Saturday morning in any domestic setting. There was the
clink of a dish being put in the sink. He heard Saturday morning kids'
programming come on the TV, and a door closing somewhere. It was a
comfortable feeling to lie there just dozing.
It was ten when he got up. He wandered into the kitchen and, on the
way, saw Clarissa sitting on the couch, watching TV. She was half
reclining and, now that he was paying attention, it was even harder to
believe he'd completely missed her recent physical maturation. She
looked like some young lioness waiting for something to wander into
sight so she could chase it and eat it.
"Morning, Pumpkin," he said. She looked up and smiled.
"Hi! I thought you were going to sleep forever."
"It was nice," he said.
"Hurry up and eat, so we can go shopping," she said.
An hour later Bob was standing in the middle of the women's section in
WalMart, surrounded by women's underwear. Clarissa was almost vibrating
with energy as she searched for bras that had a 36C tag on
them. Bob was relieved to see that the first thing she looked
for was a sports bra. There couldn't be anything to fitting a sports
bra. It either covered the breasts and kept them from moving,
or it didn't. His relief was short-lived as she handed him the sports
bra and then selected a sexy looking white bra that looked very lacy
and insubstantial to Bob. He nervously looked away and took in some of
the marketing photographs of women wearing underthings. That didn't
help control his unruly manhood, so he switched to watching other women
who were shopping in the area. Then he began worrying that they'd
notice him...noticing them. He didn't know where to look.
"OK, I have some stuff," said Clarissa. "Let's go to the fitting room."
"I don't think they approve of men going into the fitting rooms with
ladies," he said.
"Well that's too bad," she said. "I need help and I don't want anybody
else to help me except you."
He kept expecting sirens to go off, or people to yell as he followed
her to what seemed like an impossibly small room that had no ceiling in
it. She closed the door and locked it. He had to press into a corner so
she had room to move. She held an armful of variously colored items out
to him and, as soon as they were in his arms, she took off her shirt,
baring her teen breasts to him once again.
"This isn't a good idea," he said weakly.
"Why not?" she asked.
"I'm a man," he said softly. "and you are most obviously a woman now."
"You're sweet," she said. "Give me the white one." She pointed at the
sports bra. "That one there. My poor boobies bounce all around when I
run laps at school."
Bob's mind supplied him with a slow motion image of her running along
the track. She was half naked in his mind, and her breasts were
bouncing up and down. His prick moved in his pants as she struggled
into the sports bra.
"This is tight!" she said, pulling and tugging until her breasts were
"It's supposed to be," he said. He watched her jump up and down on the
balls of her feet.
"Are they bouncing?" she asked.
"Not so much," he choked. He felt like his eyes might be bouncing.
She took the sports bra off and selected a black bra this time. Bob
sighed as she filled the cups with her pale breasts. She was having
trouble with the catch and, with her arms behind her back, her breasts
were thrust out at him. The cups seemed awfully small, compared to what
they were supposed to be holding.
"Let me," he said. She turned and he fastened the bra.
"OK," she said, reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out the same
piece of paper she'd had the night before. "The center panel is
supposed to lay flat against my breastbone. Is that right here?" She
pointed at the material at the bottom of the bra in the front, right
between her breasts. It wasn't lying flat on her skin.
"You're supposed to be able to run a finger under the band," she said.
"I could run a finger under that," he said, looking at the part that
was supposed to be flat on her skin.
"Well do it then!" she said, impatiently. She kept reading as he
gingerly reached out and slipped his index finger into the gap in the
front. No matter which way he moved his finger, it ran into soft, warm
female breast flesh. "The cups are supposed to be smooth over the
breast. If I don't fill the cups, I need a smaller size. If my breasts
are bulging, I need a larger cup size." She also told him to slip his
finger between the edge of the cup and the side of her breast, to see
if there was a gap there. That put his finger in contact with more
soft, warm flesh.
"These are definitely bulging," said Bob weakly. He was still absently
running his finger back and forth under the band between her breasts.
"I think this one is too small."
She took it off and looked at the tag. Bob looked at her breasts.
"It's a 36C," she complained. "It's supposed to fit!"
"Try this one," he said, picking the first thing that came away from
the bundle in his hand. Again, he had to fasten it for her.
This one was blue and it fit much better. The cups were full and
smooth, and the center of the band did, in fact, touch her skin. She
told him to look and see if the front and back of the band strap were
both parallel to the floor, though he had no idea how to judge that. He
said the back was lower than the front and she said that was good, and
that it meant it provided better support. Again he had to run his
finger under the band. He could tell the difference immediately. It had
been easy to get his finger under the band of the black one, but it had
felt tight as he moved his finger. This one just felt snug everywhere.
She took the bra off and examined the tag. "This is the exact same size
as the black one," she said. "How the heck am I supposed to be able to
pick out a bra if the same size fits differently?"
"I guess that's why you have to try them on," said Bob, who was trying
not to stare at her pink nipples.
She tried on four more bras. At one point she read off the page that it
was important that the breasts didn't fall to the side or sag.
"Those breasts couldn't fall to the side or sag if their life depended
on it," mumbled Bob.
Of course Bob had to touch her breasts each time she put on a different
bra. In the end, the only one she liked the feel of was the blue one.
She put it back on and leaned down to pick up a wisp of blue cloth from
the seat. Bob realized, with horror, that they were matching panties.
Before he could say anything she was pushing her jeans down. She faced
away from him and took her panties off at the same time, which put her
naked ass inches from the front of Bob's pants. Those pants appeared to
be trying to reach out and touch her, based on the tented bulge there.
Then she wiggled into the panties and turned around. She held her arms
out and posed.
"Ahhhh...umm...Oh man, Rissa!" he croaked.
She dimpled. "I'll take that as a positive assessment." Then she
frowned. "But I can't get by on just one set, and the others don't fit
"So get more of those," said Bob. "Doesn't the company make the same
thing in different colors?" he asked, trying to think about anything
but jumping his niece's bones.
"Of course!" she said, smiling again. "Why didn't I think of that?" She
turned her back to him. "Undo me?"
He groaned, and she looked over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is that you've matured into a beautiful sexy woman, who's
standing here almost naked."
"You're so silly," she laughed.
"I'm NOT silly!" he said. "And you need to understand that, honey. Boys
are going to start treating you a lot differently than they have in the
Clarissa had already been teasing him, and it was easy to keep doing so.
"You're not stupid," he said. "They're going to want to date you, and
kiss you, and touch you, and ... stuff," he added, his fingers
"You're so silly," she said again. "The only difference is that now I
have boobs. So what. Now undo me, please."
His fingers went to the catch on the bra and it snapped apart. He
couldn't help but run his fingertips down her sides. She shivered.
"That tickles," she said. "But it feels good too." She turned around
and pulled the bra off her breasts. "See? They're just boobs, Uncle
Bob's face twisted and his mouth worked. "Not to a man," he said softly.
"What are they to a man?" she asked, her voice just as soft.
"They're a playground," he sighed. "A tasty treat." He
jerked, unable to believe he'd actually said that.
"Tasty?" She seemed to lean closer to him. Matt had played with them,
but he'd never tasted them. She wondered what that would feel
like. "I bet that would feel good," she said without thinking
"What?!" Bob croaked.
"Well, it feels good to rub them," she said, rolling her breasts in her
hands. Her fingertips flicked across the nipples and they spiked. "And
when you kiss my cheek it feels good, so I bet it would feel good if
somebody kissed them and tasted them."
"Oh for Pete's sake, Rissa!" groaned Bob. "You're killing me here! I'm
not even supposed to be seeing them!"
"I don't know why," she said, still rolling her breasts. "I like it
when you look at them. It makes me feel good inside."
"Yeah, well people just wouldn't understand about that," said Bob.
"I don't care what they think," said Clarissa. "They're MY boobs, and I
should get to choose who can look at them and make me feel good." She
paused a few seconds. "Have you ever tasted a woman's breasts?"
He was a little off balance, which was probably why he actually
answered the question. "Of course I have," he said.
"Did she like it?"
He was caught now. She sounded quite serious and he was the
closest thing she had to a father. Didn't she deserve an
"They all liked it," he said, wondering how they had gotten onto this
"Do you think I'd like it?"
Something clicked in Bob's mind. A warning bell went off. Her suddenly
physical maturation was strange enough, but now her inner sexuality
seemed to have had a growth spurt as well. She was entirely too
comfortable being around him like this. Girls just didn't act this way
... especially teenaged girls who had apparently just entered full
puberty. He suddenly wondered if she was sexually active already. That
seemed insane, on the face of it, but she surely was acting the vamp.
The invitation in her voice was plain. It sobered him, and control
returned to his brain.
"You're still a little young to find out," he said firmly. "And
you're too young to be flashing your breasts at ANY man, much
less me. So get dressed and let's get you some more of this brand and
size and be on our merry way."
He expected her to be cowed. She wasn't. She was obviously angry
instead. Her face flushed and she pulled her shirt on roughly,
muttering "How am I supposed to learn things if the men I like won't
"You're just a little young to be learning things...whatever that
means," said Bob, sure he was saying the right thing.
She turned to him, a gathering storm on her face. "You know I get horny
too, Uncle Bob! Just like Matt does!" Bob's jaw dropped, and
she went on. "But you didn't teach ME to masturbate! Oh no! You just
left me to wonder what was wrong with me. And when I try to get you to
help me, all you do is say I'm too young. Well I'm NOT too young! And
I'm horny right now and you're NOT HELPING!"
She stormed out of the dressing room and he followed, to see an
overweight woman staring at them both. He remembered that the dressing
room didn't have a ceiling and wondered if the woman had just heard
It was obvious she was still mad at him, because she sulked all the way
home. She even left her eight new bra and panty sets in the car when
she got out and went into the house. He took them in for her.
The rest of the day was uneventful and quiet, since Clarissa seemed to
have no interest in talking to Bob. Matt said he was going to one of
his friend's houses and his sister calmly announced she was going with
him. Bob expected Matt to object, but he didn't.
They called around suppertime and said they'd been invited to stay for
supper there, so Bob ate alone. He watched some TV, thought about how
teenaged hormones were well known to make kids act bizarre, and then
went to bed early. He opened a book he'd been meaning to read, but
hadn't had time to. He wasn't worried about the kids. They were
intelligent and wouldn't get into any trouble. They were probably just
having fun with their friends.
He heard them come in, sounding like a small herd of elephants. They
made noises in the kitchen, which didn't surprise him. Then it sounded
like they both went to their rooms, which did surprise him, since he
expected them to stay up a while. While he thought about that he
reached for the cup he kept by his bedside, but it was empty.
He got up and went to the kitchen. Along the way he saw the WalMart bag
with Clarissa's new underwear in it. Filling his cup, he decided to
take the underwear to her and try to make peace.
It never occurred to him to knock. The kids had been living with him
for years and nobody ever knocked. Usually, in fact, the doors to the
bedrooms in the house were never even closed. He turned the knob and
His cup hit the floor and iced tea splashed everywhere.
Clarissa was on the bed, on her back, stark naked, with her legs flung
wide. Matt was doing pushups on top of her, except that Bob
realized instantly that it wasn't pushups. His eyes went to their
groins and he saw Matt's slickened hard prick slide out and then back
into his sister as both of the teen's heads turned to stare, wide-eyed
at their uncle.
They froze. Bob was already frozen. He couldn't help but look at the
bare breasts he had seen, just that morning, on the chest of a girl who
was obviously, it was now clear, sexually active. He almost laughed
hysterically as he remembered her complaining that he hadn't taught her
to masturbate. He couldn't laugh, though. He knew that would be a very
bad idea, under the circumstances.
"Get dressed," he said. "Meet me in the kitchen immediately." He didn't
think it was necessary to say there was going to be a family
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