Krysta was not one to waste time on restlessness. Despite needing to be up in five hours for her Southeast Asia webcam show, she allowed herself only ten minutes of tossing and turning before transitioning back to work mode. Turning on her reading light, she inserted her phone into the slot rigged for the express purpose of taking bed selfies. Tonight, she chose to go with video, since she had posted mostly stills lately. She snagged a throw pillow from the foot of her bed and inserted it under the small of her back, allowing gravity to direct her breasts upward. Her abundant cleavage nearly touched her chin.
Now to get into the mode.
Before filming video, Krysta would imagine the experience of touching her breasts for the first time. It helped her get into the mindset of her fans, most of whom would likely never encounter—let alone touch—breasts as large as hers in their lifetimes. This mental exercise allowed her to feel free on camera and cast aside the daily headaches that came along with possessing such a magnificent chest.
As if I had not literally crammed them into countless undersized bras over the last fifteen years.
As if I did not have to wrestle with them every morning in the shower.
As if I could dress in a remotely conservative manner.
As if underboob sweat was not my sworn enemy.
As if I could walk in a public place without the heat of a hundred eyes on my body.
As if I do not imagine on a weekly basis what it would be like to reduce their mass by two-thirds and still be a full D-cup.
...though they are awfully fun to play with.
Krysta opened her eyes and tapped the screen to start recording. She began with the standard squeezing and kneading, which always went over well. Her cleavage billowed upward, emphasizing the veins on her pale skin, and she ran her palms up their sides before groping downward, letting the soft flesh run through her fingers—a new approach she'd been playing with as of late. She closed with a giggle (at least her version of one) allowing her lips to ever-so-slightly sneak into view. Ending the video, she checked for any trace of nipple (an Instagram no-no). Overall, she didn't critique the video too closely, as overthinking too often led to trodding down familiar paths. Lastly, she added a quick caption:
Within seconds of posting the video she had her first like, and in under a minute she'd already gained several more. It made her realize how far she'd come since her initial forays into Instagram right after college. In addition to feeling overwhelmed by the vast social media landscape, she'd received a flurry of inquiries from men's magazines, plus size modeling agencies, and, of course, porn sites. Rather than impulsively hopping in the deep end, she chose to watch from the bleachers for a while. She solicited the advice of several active models and researched the production companies that had reached out to her, eventually deciding to go with topless pinup modeling where she would act as her own management, web designer, and accountant.
Krysta's first business decision had been moving from the Bay Area to the much more affordable Midwest. She took a part-time tutoring position at Northshore, which had the advantage of putting her close to her friend and photographer Julie Ravner, and allowed her access to the college's many resources, which included AV guru Percy Fouts. Even with Percy's help, it took Krysta another couple years for her to carve out her space in the industry. Her final missing piece would turn out to be Alicia, who provided all of the social media consulting Krysta would ever need. Krysta, in return, helped Alicia design and launch her website. Percy received a regular commission from both of them for his photography, videography, and willingness to stand in as "booking agent" when they needed someone to take a phone call.
Her stroll down memory lane having not settled her down any, Krysta rolled out of bed and headed to her oak wooden desk where she sat down and opened her laptop. Her father, a self-employed accountant, had passed down to her the habit of working when he couldn't sleep. She initially felt it was counterproductive, but decided it depended on what she defined as "work." Her chosen activity was reading, which was passive enough not to keep her awake indefinitely while not being a total waste of time. She clicked open four browser tabs: her email, her social media management dashboard, the Reddit thread dedicated to her, and the "Best Tits Forum."
The "Best Tits Forum" was a hub for her fan base, where enthusiasts for exceptionally large breasts went to share pictures, links, stories, anecdotes, and anything else relating to breasts for which a D-cup is considered small. Her knowledge of the forum pre-dated her entire career as a model, with a thread dedicated to her extending 150 pages and over 600,000 views, starting when the first photo of her in her junior prom dress appeared online ten years ago. She knew she ranked among the top ten (if not five) active large-bust non-hardcore pinup-style models. As impressive as that sounded, it was a niche within a niche within a niche. Most in her circle lacked the desired looks or body type to cut it as mainstream models, and the most common search to turn up her name was some variation on "asian biggest boobs" (thank you Google Analytics).
While some models had a presence on the forum and even posted regularly, Krysta chose instead to lurk under a generic username. While she wanted to know what her fans (and detractors) had to say, she knew her presence could temper the conversation or create false expectations. For the web chats on her site, she had moderators to keep things civil. On the tit forums, however, she wanted it all: the good, the bad and the ugly. Modeling had given her a thick skin, which was necessary since most forum comments required her to read between the lines for the real constructive feedback:
I overdid it on the makeup.
That bra was a little too small...and my breasts are outlandishly big.
Good camera angle.
Bad camera angle.
Time to go boudoir again.
I have competition.
Not long after hitting the scene, newcomer Alexis Cheer signed on with DreamGirls, an agency representing a group of marquee topless internet models. Krysta admired the consistency and quality of their content and had an offer on the table to join, though she still preferred to keep her operation independent and in-house. The idea of joining Alexis Cheer for a shoot both nauseated and intrigued her, but if it were to happen, she intended to be strategic about the timing. Reaching out while Alexis was on the rise would seem desperate, but by waiting too long, she risked missing her window...and seeming desperate.
"The girl bears watching."
Krysta clicked to Alexis' thread, where a photo accompanied nearly every post. DreamGirls (figuratively) milked their rookie sensation for all she was worth, having already given her three feature photosets in her first month. The girl was unquestionably a big boob admirer's dream come true: young, tall, blonde, lithe, and ludicrously photogenic, capped off with astonishingly perfect 32Gs. If she were willing to get a reduction, she likely could be a successful fashion model, but everything about her suited pinup modeling. Krysta had never seen someone who made being topless look so natural. If anything, Alexis' only downside was she seemed a bit dense, but her joyful, authentic personality more than made up for it.
Krysta picked up the sound of sprightly Japanese dialogue emanating from the bedroom across the hall. Reminds me of someone.
Krysta scrolled to the bottom of the page and subscribed to Alexis' thread, then opened Alexis' Instagram and followed her there as well. At this stage, she could take the initiative at little risk. Ideally, Alexis or whoever managed Alexis' accounts would follow back. If not, she'd leave it be for now—the busywork had done its job, and she felt fatigue setting in. She updated her to-do list, checked the outfit she'd laid out for tomorrow morning's show, double-checked her alarm, and plugged in her phone before settling into bed. As she started drifting off, her phone chimed, and she opened one eye to read the notification.
"Huh."