Love your work. Could you write a (anthro) story where Sweetie Belle has grown up into an amazon and teases Rarity about how much bigger and bustier she is?

“Oh,” Rarity said. Her smile felt plastered onto her face. From the look on Sweetie Belle’s, it was already apparent where this conversation would be going. “Please, come in.”

Sweetie Belle grinned back. “Thanks, Rarity,” she said. She rested a hand on the top of the doorframe and bent down a bit so that she could see Rarity better. “You sure I’ll fit?”

A vein on Rarity’s forehead twitched. “Yes, dear. Come in.”

“Okay!” Sweetie Belle’s eight-foot-plus figure filled most of the doorframe, so it was no surprise when she not only had to bend down even more to fit through, but also sidle through at an odd angle to fit her larger…assets through comfortable.

She grunted as her shoulders rubbed against the top of the door. Rarity’s twitching vein only worsened as she saw Sweetie’s fist-sized nipples rubbing against the opposite side of the door frame, each barrel-sized breast bobbing gently as its owner struggled to fit through the too-small door.

Finally, though, Sweetie managed to cram herself into the Boutique, the door thankfully undamaged. She drew herself up to her full, eight-foot-seven, height and gave a happy-sounding sigh. “Wow,” she said, looking around the main room. “This place looks a lot smaller than I remember.”

“Very odd,” Rarity said. She chuckled bitterly. “Now, if you don’t need anything, I’ll be over in my study.”

“Aw, c’mon Rarity.” Sweetie Belle pouted. Before Rarity knew it, her much-larger sister had taken one gigantic step forward and seized her in a hug. “Don’t I get any time with my ‘big’ sister?”

Rarity’s shoulders almost shook at the added inflection. She shifted her own arms until they were at a less-awkward angle around Sweetie’s muscular leg - a leg which was nearly as thick around as she was - and stiffened a bit when she realized that the light weight on her hairbun was in fact the underside of Sweetie Belle’s bust.

“Of course, dear,” she said with a grunt, pushing herself forcefully out of Sweetie’s grip. With arms as thick around as cider barrels and a rock-hardset of abs to hold her against, it was clear that Sweetie could have easily held her in place. Yet, thankfully, Rarity was able to struggle her way free from beneath her sister’s amazonian form, though not without getting her hair mussed up and her sewing glasses tilted. “But, ah, perhaps - “

“You don’t look like you’re too happy to see me,” Sweetie Belle said, looking down at her.

Rarity blanched. “O-oh, no! Not at all. I’m simply overjoyed! I just - “

“Feel a little small?”

The vein came back. “Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said. “I’m sure i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Sweetie Belle said. She glanced around the room for a second, her gaze brightening when she spotted the loveseat. “Aha. Mind if I take a seat?”

Rarity shook her head mutely.

Sweetie took a single, gigantic step over to the love seat, setting her incredible breasts jiggling above Rarity’s head, and slowly sat down. The love seat creaked and protested under her incredible weight; somehow - not surprisingly - she managed to cover both cushions with her muscled, shapely rear.

Sweetie Belle groaned in satisfaction. Her arms lifted over her head and flexed - stretching, of course, but also indubitably showing off. She looked absolutely ridiculous, Rarity thought, her head and back stretching far above the top of the couch and her oversized hands drooping over the sides. It was clear, though, that Sweetie loved every inch of her big, bulging body, and it seemed that she wasn’t afraid to go even further in showing it off.

Sweetie finished stretching and let her long, thick arms fall to her lap. She caught Rarity’s eye and grinned. “C’mon, sis,” she said. “Come take a seat.”

“Next to you?”

Sweetie’s grin spread even wider, and she shifted her weight a little bit to let the love seat groan a bit more. “Doesn’t look like there’s much room,” she said. “But…”

She patted a hand on her lap, right between her thick, corded thighs - and right beneath the shadow of those big, round breasts.

“Why not right here?”