Pic sauce: https://yande.re/post/show/201494

I had no choice but to eventually come to terms with the situation. History had been rewritten and I was now a half-Japanese girl, stuck in Japan, and since I had been born earlier I was still about 20 years in the past—there was no going back. Abandoned by my parents, I had been adopted by a nice Japanese couple. I had hit the genetic lottery, with a very cute body, beautiful long blonde hair, and an absolutely massive pair of breasts for my small stature. In the first few weeks I constantly explored and masturbated with this body, trying to deny my feelings for this new form, but I always ended up getting lost in myself and loving it. I thought, I hoped that I could get over it, and I wanted to hurry up and start making a life for myself beyond this. But the newness wasn’t wearing off, and I kept feeling the same as I did on that first day.

I tried to live a normal school life. I was worried that I couldn’t learn and adjust fast enough to get by, but everyone was more concerned with looking at my body instead of worrying about why I was acting weird and messing up. I felt like a sack of meat, always having to lug my massive chest everywhere, always the main thing people associated with me. Besides that, blending in wasn’t too hard. Apparently “my” personality was always like this in this timeline as well.

But something else nagged at me. I don’t know if there’s something I’m missing, or if girls just are different, but I couldn’t sexually satisfy myself. Instead of being able to preserve my previous self-image, I was always getting distracted by my body. I only held out for a couple weeks before I gave in.

One afternoon, I fucked a guy behind the school. I desperately came on to him, pressing my chest up against his and trying to rip his shirt off. I had no idea what to do, so I went straight for what I wanted—what I needed. I quickly won him over and we went to the bushes. I finally got him to go on top of me, bushing my lengthy hair out of the way. I pulled up my shirt and bra and shoved my skirt and panties down to my ankles. I had to grab at his pants before he would start taking them off. I knew which part of my body was the best, which one I had to start out with. I grabbed his head and brought his face down between my breasts, with a little bit of milk coming out and lubricating the act. In that moment the only thing that I ever needed, the only thing that defined me, was my boobs. He brought his dick down between them, and after an all-too-short period of frantic rubbing and fucking, released his load on them.

As I tried to return to my senses, I felt the weight of my chest again, and I noticed I was hyperventilating. I forced myself to take deep breaths to calm down, and I saw them, rising and falling. I told the guy to leave, saying that I was embarrassed and that I needed to be by myself. For the next few hours, I lay there, on the dirt, reliving it over and over in my head and thinking about what it all meant. The sun was completely set by the time I pulled my dirt-covered uniform back on.

After that, I kept doing it. I couldn’t resist. My school reputation became shameless. My libido was way too high, it had to be beyond what was normal—another unfortunate way I got “lucky” with this body. Resigning myself to my fate, I thought that I might as well enjoy it while I have it.