Packing Clarissa's Genes

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Chapter Five

"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.

Bob goggled.

"When did THAT happen?!" he gasped.

"I'm a girl," she said. "We grow breasts, Uncle Bob. If you dated you'd know that."

"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 stiff.

"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 measurement.

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," he said.

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," he said, pointing at one nipple.

"OK. Go ahead." She WAS having fun watching him flush and get all nervous.

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 up now."

"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, frantically.

"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 covered.

"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 right."

"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 past."

Clarissa had already been teasing him, and it was easy to keep doing so.

"Oh? How?"

"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 twitching.

"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."

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 first.

"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 honest answer?

"They all liked it," he said, wondering how they had gotten onto this subject.

"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 cooperate!?"

"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 Clarissa's outburst.

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 went in.

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 conference.

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