Kinktober 12 - Feeder/Feedee Flip

Kinktober prompt:
Feeder/Feedee Flip

Contains: Breast Expansion

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Kinktober 12 - Feeder/Feedee Flip

Julie drummed her fingers on the table. “You know, you really don’t have to do this…”

Catherine’s voice came from the next room. “Just stay out there, Birthday Girl. Do you want more coffee?”

The brunette looked into her mug. She’d drank over two-thirds of its contents, nervously imagining the mess her friend was making in the kitchen. “Um… sure, I guess.”

Catherine stepped out of the kitchen, holding the glass coffee pot. She’d made it far too strong, and even though the concentrated caffeine wasn’t helping Julie’s nerves, she’d said nothing. When Catherine twisted to reach Julie’s mug with the pot, the brunette jerked back in her chair to avoid getting slapped in the face by her friend’s enormous breasts.

“Really,” Julie said, “You don’t have to do this. Just because it’s my birthday doesn’t mean I can’t still make us breakfast.”

Catherine put a hand on Julie’s shoulder, and the brunette could smell lilac soap and just a hint of… her. “I can do this, Jules, I promise. You take such good care of me; let me return the favor just this once?”

Julie sighed, blowing on her coffee. “Fine… Just… try not to make a mess, okay?”

The blonde stood back, knuckling her lower back and making her chest wobble. “As if I’d let you do dishes on your birthday! Ruby and I will take care of that, too.”

Cold panic ran through Julie’s body. “You can wash the dishes, but don’t you two dare put anything away. I have a system.”

Catherine smiled, patting her friend on the head. “Of course you do.”

She vanished back into the kitchen.

***

Catherine scooped a few slices of bacon from the pan onto a plate. Then she reached for the package. She couldn’t pull fresh slices out one-handed, so she reached for the package with her other hand. One of the pans rattled as her breasts bumped the handle, and she jumped back, checking to make sure she hadn’t knocked it off the stove. Both pans were in place, and the lack of scalding oil seeping through her sleep shirt told her she’d avoided disaster. She lifted the bacon package above her chest so she could reach it with both hands and still see what she was doing.

As Catherine tried to flip the eggs, the pan slid across the burner grate. When she started cooking, Catherine had leaned forward, letting her breasts dangle toward the floor so she could reach over them. But that posture put an ache in her shoulders and lower back after all of thirty seconds. When she stood normally, though, she could only reach with one hand at a time if she wanted to actually see the pan and its contents. Catherine slid the spatula forward quickly, hoping to get it under the egg without moving the pan off its place. The pan slid anyway, and the egg crumpled, breaking the yolk.

“Damnit!”

“Everything alright in there?” Julie called.

“Everything’s fine!”

Catherine slid the pan back into place, then planted the spatula on the pan and stepped closer. Holding the pan handle in one hand and the spatula in the other, she changed the fried eggs into scrambled ones, praying she wouldn’t burn herself.

The toaster popped, making Catherine jump. She turned to inspect the eggs and lifted the pan off the stove. She’d put the butter back in the fridge, so she pulled it open again. The door collided with her chest and swung back closed. Grumbling, Catherine twisted her body so she could open the fridge fully, then leaned forward to see inside over her boobs. She found the butter and spread some on the toast, getting crumbs all over her cleavage in the process.

***

Julie watched nervously as Catherine carried a large plate into the dining room. Balanced precariously at eye level, the plate piled high with bacon, eggs, and toast was just out of reach of her bouncing breasts as she walked.

“Here you go!” Catherine said, the plate nearly slipping out of her fingers as she lowered it to the table one-handed.

“This looks really great, Cath.”

“Thanks!” Catherine beamed, lowering herself into a chair and resting her breasts on the table.

“Did you make any for yourself?”

Catherine’s eyes widened, and both women heard her stomach grumble. Julie pushed back to stand.

“No!” Catherine said, standing back up. “I’ll do it. You stay here. Eat—before it gets cold.”

Catherine vanished back into the kitchen, and Julie picked a bit of shell from her eggs, wondering if her friend was going to keep this up all day.