Sarah drove back home, sometimes giggling, sometimes sighing as she thought happily about her encounter with big Bill Rahall. She arrived at her apartment, and after changing into some comfortable clothes, she checked the messages on her answering machine. One of them was from Mike Hinkle, asking her to get in touch with him as soon as possible. She copied down his number as the machine dictated, and when she'd finished checking her other messages, she called him.
"Mike Hinkle Photography, how may I help you?" he answered.
"Mike! Sarah Covington returning your call."
"Sarah, hi! How are you?"
"I'm fine! You?"
"Fantastic! I've got some good news for you a magazine named Extreme Curves just bought exclusive rights to your photos! Extreme Curves is relatively new, but it's quickly becoming one of the premiere big bust magazines in the world! They're very excited about you, too! The editor called me personally and raved about you, and he wants to put you on the cover!"
"Really? That's incredible! But on the cover? With my big bare boobs hangin' out?" The reality of it all was starting to set in.
"Yeah, but the thing is, your big bare boobs can't legally hang out on the front cover of a magazine if it's to be displayed on newsstands. Specifically, it's nipples that the law objects to. So, you and I need to get together and take just a few shots with your nipples hidden. Can we do that?"
"Well, sure, but what about that shot you took of me with my back to the camera?"
"No, they prefer a frontal shot on the cover: they want to see your pretty face. Now, when can we arrange for a shoot?"
"Any time is fine."
"How about Tuesday? Say, right after lunch?"
"That's good. Let me write that down..."
"Oh, by the way, I posted that shot of you on my web site. The one we agreed on?"
"Cool! I'll check it out right away."
"Well, I'm afraid it had to be taken off."
"Why?"
"The day after I posted it, my site saw more traffic than the previous three months combined! Your picture was downloaded a couple thousand times! The people who manage my web site had to remove it because there was just too much traffic, and it was threatening to crash their server!"
"You're kidding!"
"No, I'm not!"
"How flattering! Um listen, about Tuesday will it matter if my breasts are bigger than last time?"
"Again?"
"Still!"
"Wow! Well, I don't see why the magazine would have a problem with that. Um how much bigger?"
"Noticeable. I was just worried that it might look odd if the cover photo showed me with bigger breasts than I had in the rest of the pictures."
"Hm. How much bigger are they?"
"That's hard for me to say, off the top of my head. I see them all the time."
"Yeah. Well, let's go ahead and bring you in here for the cover shot, and if the difference in size is appreciable, we might want to think about reshooting the whole thing as long as everything is set up, just to be on the safe side. Do you have a nice bikini?"
"Not one that fits up top anymore."
"Oh. Well, one of my bustier models left hers behind after a shoot. The top probably isn't as big as you need, but we might be able to make it work."
"I don't know," she murmured, looking down at her protuberant bosom.
"Sorry I'm late, Mike!" Sarah whined as he let her in. "I had a flat tire! I thought I was going to have to get all dirty right before our photo shoot, but fortunately someone stopped and helped me."
"A good Samaritan, huh?"
"A bunch of them, in fact. Guys kept stopping and asking if they could help, even after the tire had already been changed! Finally a cop came by and told them they had to move their cars. Then it took me another ten minutes to get away from him!"
"I can't say that I blame them," Hinkle said, chuckling. "Anyway, don't worry about being late. I'm running a little behind schedule, myself."
"Good. I mean, I'm glad you weren't waiting on me," Sarah clarified as she removed her jacket. Underneath, she wore a sweater that tightly hugged her amazing breasts, leaving little to the imagination as to their extraordinary volume as they jiggled liberally without benefit of a brassiere.
"Sarah!" Hinkle exclaimed appreciatively, looking squarely at her chest. "You really are a lot bigger than you were the last time we did this! They must be growing pretty fast!" Hinkle declared, incredulous.
"Not all the time. They have spurts," she explained.
"Incredible! I'd say we definitely need to reshoot the whole series!"
There was something subtly exciting about his undisguised yet objective appreciation of her bosom's phenomenal size and growth. "That's fine with me," she replied. "I can stay as late as you need me."
"Fantastic!" Picking up a black two-piece bathing suit from his desk, he held it up and said, "This is the bikini I told you about." He looked skeptically at Sarah's sizable bosom and added, "But I didn't realize how much bigger your boobs had grown when I suggested that this top might fit you."
"Actually, I figured it'd be too small for me, so I got out my sewing machine and altered this old bikini of mine," she said, lifting a little red two-piece out of a bag she'd been holding. "It's not really sea-worthy anymore, but it looks okay."
"Outstanding!" he said, studying it. "You must be pretty handy with a needle and thread!"
Sarah opened her purse and took out a snapshot. Handing it to Hinkle, she explained, "I thought you might be interested in seeing this picture taken of me wearing the same swimsuit before my boobs got so big."
"Damn!" he exclaimed as he studied the print. "You're so much bustier now than you were here! When was this taken?"
"Oh, I don't know two or three years ago?"
"May I hold on to this for a while? I have a feeling the magazine might want to include it in your feature for comparison."
"Sure!"
"Great!" he said, slipping the picture into his shirt pocket. "Okay then, if you're ready, we can get started." He opened the door to the studio and motioned for her to precede him.
She thanked him as she walked through the door and headed toward the dressing room. Entering the booth, she silently questioned the need for privacy, since she was going to come out naked. At least, she reasoned, it afforded some hooks to hang her things on.
Soon, Sarah stepped out of the little room wearing her modified bikini, and Hinkle stopped his work to look at her. The bottom of the bikini fit her as well as ever, but the top was dwarfed by the mighty breasts it was attempting to support. She had lengthened the top's straps to accommodate her advanced buxomness, but it was still ill-equipped to manage the heavy bouncing and swaying of it contents as Sarah approached.
"Wow!" Hinkle exclaimed. When Sarah drew near him, the photographer's eyes were irresistibly drawn to her sparsely clad breasts, so close they seemed impossibly enormous. "I guess we'd better get to work, then," he proclaimed as he gathered his faltering self-discipline.
"Where do you want me?" she asked.
Hinkle took her to a backdrop that was set up in a corner of the main studio. As Sarah followed him, her huge tits bounced and bobbled so vigorously, one of her nipples nosed its way out from under the little bikini top without her realizing it.
The photographer positioned his busty model and took a few paces back, nodding as he examined her. He stepped close again to smooth a loose strand of Sarah's hair, and then surprised her by taking hold her bikini top and adjusting it to hide her big nipple.
"Sorry, dear," he apologized. "I'm not trying to get personal here, but you were showing."
"Oh, Thanks! No, I don't mind your doing this, I just wasn't expecting it," she explained with a chuckle. She observed with pleasure and pride as the man carefully tended to her big bosom.
To get warmed up, Hinkle used an entire roll of 35mm film, and then he switched to his four-by-five camera. There was very little variation in the poses he had Sarah assume. What he was striving to achieve was not so much the pose, but a subtler element within the pose: a facial expression or a twinkle in her eye that would make one shot stand out above the rest. They spent over an hour working on the cover photo before moving on.
As she strolled over to the main part of the studio, Sarah asked, "Are you ready for me to take this bikini off now?"
Repositioning his tripod at the bedroom set, he replied, "Yes, please." The scene was set up exactly the way it had been during their first session. Hinkle looked through the viewfinder. She was a thrilling vision to regard as he focused on his model's bosomy nakedness. He was inspired by her guileless and unassuming beauty, a quality that was as rare as it was alluring. As the afternoon progressed, Hinkle occasionally referred to prints from their previous photo session, studying them in order to duplicate the new shots more precisely. Holding a pose while waiting for Hinkle to make adjustments to his equipment, Sarah asked, "Why are you going to so much trouble to make these new pictures exactly like the ones we did before?"
"There are two reasons. One, since the magazine has already agreed to buy the first set, I'm obligated to make these as much like the others as possible because that's what the magazine has agreed to purchase. Second, I'm guessing that the editors may want to run some of these shots side-by-side with the earlier ones for comparison, because a lot of breast-men have a keen interest in growing boobs."
"Really?" Sarah chuckled and said, "I could be their poster child!"
"You're saying that to be funny, but I imagine you're going to be quite popular with that group!"
"Hm," she grunted, dubious that anything of the sort might happen to her.
"Jimmy!" came his friend's voice over the phone.
"Hey, dude. What's happenin'."
"Last night my dad brought home the new issue of Extreme Curves, man, and you need to see the outrageous babe on the cover: I'm talkin' major stackage! She's a new model and she's completely awesome: the hugest natural tits you ever seen! They're bigger than her head! Hell, they're even bigger than your head!"
"Uh-huh."
"Seriously! You gotta come over and check this out! I'm not shittin' you!"
"She's really that bodacious?"
"Totally! I got a hard-on right now just thinking about her!"
"Okay get rid of it and I'll be over in a little while."
"Well, hurry I have to put the mag back in my dad's hiding place before he gets home!"
Sarah parked her car after running an errand, and checked her mailbox on the way up to her apartment. There was the usual assortment of bills and junk mail, along with a large brown envelope. Curious, she looked at the return address and saw that it was from the publisher of Extreme Curves magazine! It had to be the complimentary copy of her debut issue that she'd been promised!
Excited and nervous, she hurried up the stairs and into her apartment. Setting her shopping bag and the rest of the mail on her kitchen table, she sat down and eagerly tore open the envelope. The magazine slid out, and there she was on the cover, looking seductively at the camera, her strikingly large breasts barely covered by the little red bikini top. The bold caption beside her bosomy image read: Exclusive! New, all-natural discovery Sarah Covington N-cup boobs and growing!
She opened the magazine and found her feature article. At first it was somewhat unnerving to see images of her naked body splashed across its pages, but as she contemplated the tasteful layout, her reservations yielded to a sense of satisfaction. The headline repeated what was on the cover, with a subtitle: This buxom beauty's boobs get bigger every day!
Sarah giggled. She laid the magazine open on the table before her, and began reading the article while unbuttoning her blouse. Her bra had become uncomfortably tight, and she'd been anxious to get home so she could take it off.
The beginning paragraphs seemed little more than hyperbole and sensationalism, but it was fun to read such glowing praise. The text of the article consisted mainly of an interview conducted over the phone not long after the magazine had purchased her photos. The man had asked her a lot of questions about her breasts, and seemed especially interested in the aspect of their growth. Sarah was glad to answer all his questions the best she could. In fact, she found it somewhat arousing to talk about her tits with such a sexy-sounding and keenly interested male voice.
The opening spread included an inset of a 'before' snapshot of Sarah wearing her old bikini, taken before her breasts had begun their phenomenal expansion. The difference was remarkable.
Sarah read with her elbows on the table and her head resting against her palms, dangling her bare breasts under the table. After a while she sat up and stretched, and then lowered her corpulent boobs down so they rested on the tabletop. The cool Formica against her skin began making her nipples pop. She absent-mindedly stroked one of her big exposed mammaries with her fingertips as she read her article and looked at her pictures.
After she'd finished perusing the feature, she skimmed through the rest of the magazine. There was no question that Sarah's breasts were by far the largest of all the models in that issue, but somehow, when she looked again at her pictures, they just didn't have the impact she'd expected. Wondering about this, she got up and took the magazine with her into the bedroom, and compared those photos to her reflection in a full-length mirror. As she studied her form, she saw how much larger her breasts had grown since the pictures had been taken. She hoped that was why she felt this vague sense of disappointment, and that the magazine's readers would not feel the same.
Huddled against the wind of winter's first chill, Maxwell Lee Jeffries stood in his little hut on the sidewalk of a busy downtown street, surrounded by his ware: the printed page. Stacks of newspapers from around the world lay on the pavement in front of his kiosk, and on its walls hung magazines whose focus encompassed the spectrum of subjects, ranging from general interest to the most arcane. News and sports magazines were displayed at the front of the shed because of their wide readership, while the skin mags were sequestered behind Max on the back wall to keep the public's horny hands from wrinkling his merchandise.
A dapper man dressed in a tailored suit walked up to Max's hut and bought a New York Times and a copy of a men's magazine named Extreme Curves. That was the great thing about selling girlie books he not only made money on the purchase of the magazines themselves, but his customers typically bought another item as well, as if that was what they'd come to buy in the first place, and the porn was just an afterthought.
That was the ninth or tenth copy of that particular periodical that Max had sold that day, and it was not even noon yet! It must be that huge-titted babe on the cover: he'd never seen a pair of melons like that. He could see how guys who were into that kind of thing would go nuts for her.
He picked up a copy of Extreme Curves and scrutinized the image of the lovely cover girl with the extraordinary mammaries. Her breasts were not only much larger than any Max had seen, but according to the caption on the cover, this woman's titties were naturally huge, unlike the surgically enhanced balloons such mags usually flaunted.
Max opened it up to the first page of Sarah's layout, and gazed at the startling images of her ultra bosomy nude form. Standing with his back to the outside, using his body to shield his choice of literature from public view, he marveled at the incredible size of the girl's hooters. Max was not a tit-man himself, but looking at her, he could understand the fascination of those who were. He heard the klik-klok sound of a woman's high heels on the sidewalk approaching his newsstand, and he discreetly slipped the magazine under the counter so he could look at it later. He would add this one to his collection.
That left him with only a few copies remaining, and this was only its first day on the stand! It was normal to have a few issues of any periodical left over when the new edition came out, and the distributor would credit him for those that hadn't sold. That wouldn't be the case with this month's Extreme Curves; in fact, he'd have to call and order additional copies if it continued to sell like this.
"Good morning," the woman greeted him. Max grunted. She picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal from its stack and set it on the counter.
"Anything else?" the vendor asked as he entered the price on his outdated adding machine.
As she busily extracted money from her purse, she replied, "A copy of Extreme Curves, please."
Owen knocked on Sarah's door and waited. It had been a couple weeks since he'd seen her, and she'd insisted that he come over so she could show him something. She opened her door and greeted him wearing a silky bathrobe that was not quite capable of covering her impressively large bosom.
"Hey, Owen! Thanks for coming over. Come on in."
"Thanks. Whatcha been up to?" he asked, taking off his coat and throwing it over a chair.
"Surfing the internet."
Owen glanced over at her computer monitor as he flopped on the couch, and saw she had been visiting Macey Mamms' official web site. Macey Mamms was a popular exotic dancer who advertised herself as having the biggest bust in the business. A few years back, she'd had her breasts radically enlarged by an experimental string-implant technique that was later abandoned by its inventor due to complications that arose with some of his test subjects. Macey got along fine with her implants, however. In fact, she was happy to find that one of the side effects of the technique was that the string absorbed body fluid and swelled over time, causing her breasts to continually grow larger. After Macey had first gotten the enlargement, her boobs were so big she caused an international stir within the adult entertainment community. Since then, her breasts had ballooned to nearly twice that size.
"Ah, checking out Macey, I see."
"Yeah, she's sort of become my hero," Sarah explained, settling next to him. "Not just because she has such humongous boobs and she's letting them grow even bigger, but because she seems to be in control of her own career. I get the impression she personally oversees her site, video sales, tours everything. I like that."
"You know, your boobs have gotten pretty darn big, too. If you wanted to become an exotic dancer, you could make a pile of money. You need to find some kind of work, after all: your severance pay won't last forever."
"Yeah, I know. I've been worrying about that. But I did make some good money modeling. I think I might keep pursuing that in the future, if I can get the work."
"By the way, I know I said this before, but your X-Curves article is totally hot!"
Sarah smiled, pleased to hear his praise once more. "Thank you, Owen!"
"I'm sure you'll be a successful model, but you could advance your career even further by stripping!"
"I've seriously considered that idea, to be honest. The thought of being naked in front of people doesn't bother me anymore in fact, it's kind of intriguing. But the trouble is, I'm such a klutz! I can handle a nice slow dance with my head on someone's shoulder, but forget about entertaining people on stage. I'm way too awkward!"
Owen chuckled. "Believe me, there are plenty of strippers who can't dance a lick, if the truth were told. But with a body like yours, you could get away with just strutting across the stage shaking your big tits around."
"Seriously?"
"Absolutely! You wouldn't be the first."
"Hm."
"So you said on the phone you had something to show me?"
"I do," she confirmed as she began untying the sash of her bathrobe. "It's nothin' big well, I guess I need to rephrase that," she amended as she opened the robe for him. Underneath, she wore only panties and the largest brassiere Owen had ever seen in person. It held Sarah's profoundly large breasts high on her chest, creating deep, arcing cleavage that undulated enticingly within the bra's plunging neckline. Putting her palms under her corpulent mammaries, she lifted them up a little and then let them fall, sending wondrous ripples reverberating through her thick flesh.
"This is probably no big deal for you, but this is the first bra I've bought since my boobs got too big for store-bought. It's actually very comfortable."
"It's huge! Where'd you get it?"
"I had it specially made by a company I found on line. It was expensive, but with the money I earned posing nude, I decided I could afford to have at least one bra that fits. Besides, these big girls deserve a nice home," she explained, fondly patting the sides of her corpulent bosom. "If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have that money."
"Yeah, but if it weren't for them, you'd still have your job," Owen pointed out, immediately regretting his negative comment.
"Oh, screw that job," she said, dismissing it with a wave. "I'm so glad I'm not working there anymore. I'd much rather have my great big boobs than their dumb job."
"Yeah, I agree. Sorry, I didn't mean to sound contrary."
"I know, Owen."
"That is a cool bra, though," Owen observed, studying the commodious garment. "Are you sure it's gonna be strong enough? That's a pretty big load you've got there!"
"Yeah, it's specially made. It's lightweight but very sturdy. Watch." Sarah stood up and demonstrated the brassiere's serviceability by hopping on her toes, causing her enormous breasts to bounce heavily within their cups. Owen stared mutely at the spectacle as her huge boobs pounded against her tummy, wobbling and quivering wildly. "See? It's a lot stronger than it looks."
Owen sucked in a drop of drool that had been making its way to the corner of his mouth. "Yeah," he commented.
"So now you've seen my new toy. However, for a casual evening at home, this comes off," she said, slipping the straps of her off her shoulders. Owen watched vigilantly as Sarah thrust out her chest and reached behind her back, struggling to unhook the huge new bra. When the last clasp was released, her great boobs suddenly slipped down a few inches, collapsing the brassiere under their weight and wagging freely as she removed the garment.
Owen stared, spellbound. "Sarah," he murmured. "They're so much bigger than they were the last time I saw you!" He stared at them helplessly, stunned by the enormity of her lovely breasts. With the support of her brassiere removed, they bobbed heavily, bumping against her knees as she sat back down beside him.
"Yeah, I guess they are," she agreed, gazing down at her ballooning bosom. Sarah noticed Owen shift uncomfortably on the couch, trying to discreetly tug at his pants, where a pronounced bulge had developed. She leaned forward with a smile and lovingly caressed his crotch, causing her enormous breasts to swing out and dangle before him. He reached out a finger and began tickling one of her big nipples it until it had swelled to maximum size.
"Do you feel like playing a sex game?" he asked, switching to her other nipple.
"What kind of sex game?" Sarah purred, intrigued.
"It's a foreplay game. We both try to make each other as sexually aroused as possible, holding out for as long as we can stand it until the other person initiates actual penetration. Whoever lasts the longest wins!"
"Hey, I like that," she said with a playful grin. She unzipped his pants, and after freeing his large erect penis, she started tracing circles around the circumference of its head with both thumbs. As she continued to do this, she got up on her knees so her tits were level with Owen's head and began wiping them slowly back and forth across his face, asking with feigned innocence, "Is this how you play, sweetie?"
Owen nodded slowly.
Continuing to act her little-girl role, she asked, "Oh, did I tell you what size my new bra is? It's an R-cup with a 34 band!" she informed him, batting her wide eyes and lifting her swollen breasts in her hands.
"An R-cup!" he echoed incredulously. Owen grasped Sarah's huge boobs and pushed his face into the softness between them, recalling the proverb, It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game.
It had been a delightfully long time since she'd had to wake up before dawn to the sound of a screaming alarm clock. Lying in her bed, Sarah moaned as she gathered the wherewithal to rise. It was going to be a very long and busy day. She threw the covers back, sat up on the edge of the bed, and indulged in some therapeutic scratching.
As she shuffled to the bathroom, she pulled off her nightshirt and tossed it in the general direction of the laundry hamper, glancing at her enormous boobs reflected in the mirror. They'd been growing at a furious pace over the past several weeks. She'd heard of people whose weight had increased out of control until it took over their lives, and now she felt she had a taste of what that must be like.
After a shower, Sarah put on her new brassiere, a pair of pantyhose, a tight skirt that some might consider too short, and a simple cardigan sweater. Running late, she had just taken her first sip of coffee when Mim knocked at the door, ready to drive her to the airport.
After an uneventful flight, the airliner touched down in Miami just before noon. The magazine publisher, eager to please and impress Sarah, had booked her a seat in first class, and had arranged for a limousine to pick her up at the airport and bring her to their office. After the plane had come to a stop at the terminal, all the passengers got up from their seats, preparing to disembark. Sarah stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach a bag she'd put in the overhead compartment, and though she hadn't intended to make a spectacle of herself, this posture pushed out her sizeable bosom in a most conspicuous way, drawing stares of awe and disbelief from the other passengers. After retrieving her bag, Sarah did her best to discreetly tug her sweater back down over her exposed midriff as she waited to be let off the plane.
Sarah's sweater was made of an elastic knit that could expand to accommodate her extra large breasts, yet was resilient enough to hug her slender waist as well. Her extreme bustiness stressed the buttons in front, opening small gaps between them a minor concession in the eternal quest to clothe her substantial bust presentably. She had buttoned the sweater all the way up because the cool air inside the plane was making her nipples distend, and their bold contours were noticeably delineated in the clingy fabric.
Finally the door opened and passengers at the front of the aircraft began slowly filing out into the retractable walkway. As Sarah slowly moved closer to the exit, she noticed two female flight attendants whispering, looking her way.
She was becoming accustomed to people's curiosity about her extraordinary figure. Ever since her breasts had grown so uncommonly large, strangers of all ages and genders displayed an immediate interest whenever they encountered her: a fascination that increased with the size of her boobs. Sarah refused to be intimidated by what people might think, however. When others stared at her, she stood straight and tall, confidently nonchalant about the stunning magnitude of her bosom.
As she stepped out of the airplane and walked down the hallway into the terminal, her huge breasts bounced and swayed gravidly. Her brand-new custom-made brassiere did its best to restrain their heavy rollicking, but only so much could be done.
Men and women stared as she passed on her way to the baggage pick-up area, where she met the limousine driver sent by the publisher. The driver was a petite young woman of Cuban descent who contracted with the publisher to ferry advertisers, models, editors, and other notables around town. Though she'd never seen Sarah, the pretty little driver had been told simply to look for a woman with a very top-heavy figure.
"Miss Covington?" she asked in a rich contralto voice with perfect diction.
"Yes!" Sarah confirmed.
"I'm here to take you to the office of Extreme Curves magazine. My name is Rosa. Do you have all your bags?"
"Yes, thanks."
"Would you like me to carry something for you?"
"That'd be great, thanks!"
"If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the limo."
"A limo," she giggled. The driver smiled at her as they started off toward the parking deck.
When they stepped outside, Sarah was very pleasantly surprised by the weather. In the dead of winter, such a warm sunny day began giving her a case of spring fever. "I guess I really don't need this coat," she murmured.
"Not in south Florida, ma'am."
Soon they were on the road, headed toward Downtown Miami. First they'd stop by Sarah's hotel so she could check in and leave her bags, and then off to Extreme Curves. As Rosa drove, she eyed Sarah's extraordinarily busty form in the rear view mirror. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"Not at all; go right ahead."
"I understand that you don't have breast implants is that right?"
Sarah nodded and answered, "That's right. I'm all natural."
"Wow! I was told that you wear an N-cup bra with a 34 band."
"That was my size back when the pictures were taken the ones in the magazine. Now I'm an R-cup."
"R-cup!" Rosa echoed, uttering some oath in Spanish. "You're quite a hot topic among our friends at Extreme Curves these days, Miss Covington."
"Call me Sarah, please. So I'm a hot topic?"
"Yeah, you've got all the boys talking! The girls, too, for that matter!"
Sarah entered the lobby of Extreme Curves magazine and was about to introduce herself to the receptionist and explain her business, when at least a half dozen people appeared, greeting her warmly. She was surprised as they gathered around, eagerly waiting their turn to shake her hand. Though most of them were men, a couple of women were glad-handing her as well. After Editor-in-Chief Carl Wilkins introduced himself, he stepped back, still holding her hand, and surveyed Sarah's lavish contours.
"Outstanding figure, Sarah! You are stunning! Absolutely gorgeous!" The others echoed his praise.
After some small talk, they all took turns posing for snapshots there in the lobby, snuggling up close beside Sarah, hoping to 'accidentally' make contact with her phenomenal bosom. After this, someone handed her an 8" x 10" glossy of one of her nude shots, and asked her to sign it. Sarah blushed only slightly, and as she took the pen, she commented, "I've never been asked for my autograph before."
Once the introductory formalities were over, Wilkins took Sarah on a tour of the facility. Her enormous bosom wobbled heavily as she walked along beside the editor, despite the best efforts of her brassiere, and as they passed through the various work areas, people looked up from their tasks to marvel openly at her. She was introduced to all of the employees, many of whom gazed unabashedly at her huge boobs, boldly but respectfully expressing their heartfelt appreciation.
Wilkins led Sarah into the graphics department, where she saw numerous glossy prints from her layout, pinned up all over the walls. There was also a large poster-size printout of her cover shot. A young man stood hunched over a light table, scrutinizing some new transparencies of a popular big-bust model scheduled to appear in an upcoming feature.
"Excuse us, Donny," Wilkins said as they approached. "I'd like you to meet Sarah Covington." As soon as he heard the name, Donny immediately stood bolt upright with a startled expression on his face. "Sarah," the editor continued, "this is our layout man, Donny McKee."
Donny shook Sarah's outstretched hand, and said in a hushed voice, "Sarah, I've gotta say, you are the sexiest, most beautiful woman I have ever seen! No lie!"
"Wow!" Sarah responded, surprised by the man's superlative compliment. "Thank you!"
"I mean it! I see a lot of really sexy ladies in my work here, but to me, you're by far the hottest!" Donny said, raising his right hand to swear it.
Wilkins chuckled. "He's not just blowing smoke, either, Sarah he's talked about nothing else since he first saw your shots."
Sarah grinned at Donny and winked. "So I see," she said, glancing around at the many nudes of herself, adoringly posted on the walls.
"Take a look at this one," Wilkins said with a quiet laugh as he pointed, "and tell us what you think." Donny's facial expression clouded slightly.
Sarah walked over and saw one of her favorite poses from the shoot, but something about it seemed very odd. At once she realized that in this print, her breasts appeared incredibly huge, considerably larger than they actually were.
"Oh my!" she remarked with a chuckle. "There certainly is a lot of me in this." She leaned closer to study the image more carefully. "How was this done?"
Donny cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I, uh I scanned the photo and manipulated the image in my computer. It's a technique called morphing. I hope you're not offended."
"No, not at all!" Sarah assured him, still scrutinizing it. "In fact, this is really cool! It's very well done."
"Thanks!" he said, relieved. As Sarah examined her digitally enhanced image, Donny gazed at the curvaceous profile of she extravagantly large bosom, stretching out the front of her sweater.
"I really like this," she commented. "Can you print me a copy?"
"Sure!"
"I've been wondering what I might look like after a while, if my boobs continue growing like they have been."
"You're even bustier now than you were when these pictures were taken, aren't you?" Donny asked, studying her profoundly buxom form.
"Yes, quite a bit, as a matter of fact," Sarah said, turning to face him. The motion caused her heavy bosom to sway lazily from side to side within her top. "They just keep getting bigger and bigger!" she explained.
Unbidden, a tiny moan escaped Donny's lips.
Wilkins held open the door of his office, and motioned for his guest to precede him. Sarah went in and looked around at the dozens of autographed cheesecake photos on the walls. After closing the door behind them, he walked around behind his desk and motioned for her to sit in a stuffed chair opposite him. They sat, and Wilkins again feasted his eyes on the woman's sumptuous figure before he started talking business.
"Sarah," the editor began, "I appreciate your coming to see us. As you probably know, this latest issue of Extreme Curves with your cover and feature article is the highest-selling edition we've ever published! The reason for that is obvious: you!" He put his hand on top of a stack of papers and continued, "These are letters that came from readers demanding to see more of you. A few of these guys would like to see you have your own monthly magazine!"
Sarah chuckled sheepishly and responded, "Goodness! How flattering! That's a lot of mail."
"And these," continued Wilkins, moving his hand to a much taller pile beside the first, "are emails. They started coming in the day your issue hit the stands. These guys are crazy about you, my dear. We've never had this kind of reader response."
"Incredible," she murmured, shaking her head.
Wilkins leaned toward her. "Sarah, you're a star! In my opinion, you can take your career as far as you want. With your figure, you're the ideal model for this magazine's concept. The fact that your boobs are growing even bigger makes you all the more desirable! Our readers absolutely love that! Why, if I could pull in the kind of circulation every month that we're seeing with this issue, you and I would both be rich!"
"Rich sounds nice. What do you have in mind?"
"I want to you to be a regular feature in Extreme Curves. In addition to running a pictorial every issue, we'd also like to track and document the growth of your breasts. I'd like to select a few of the comparison shots we've already published, and continue updating them as a series each month. Donny could create a chart showing your progress, and we'll update it regularly. We'd also want you to write some commentary each month, like a diary. You wouldn't have to do any actual writing you can just give us a call and chat with one of our staff writers when it's time to do your article, and leave the rest to us. Our Sales Manager also wants to put out a special Christmas issue exclusively devoted to you, featuring a collection of all your previously published photos as well as some new stuff."
Sarah felt dazzled by the opportunity that lay before her. "This is overwhelming!"
"So, you're interested in these ideas I'm floating?"
"Yes, I am."
"Outstanding! I have a contract here that we'd like to propose," he continued, sliding a stapled document across the desk toward her. "It binds you exclusively to Extreme Curves for a period of one year, with option to renew. Upon signing this contract, you will receive an advance of $50,000, up front," he said, glancing at Sarah's enormous bust.
"Fifty thousand?" she asked, incredulous.
"We think that's a fair retainer. Then each month you would receive a regular payment of $20,000."
Sarah raised her eyebrows as she took the contract and skimmed it. "I'll be honest with you I don't know enough about this business to haggle with you; and besides, that much money looks darn good from where I'm sitting. So, if I sign this right now, I walk out of here with a check for $50,000?"
"Well, yes, we could do that, but you really ought to have your lawyer look it over first."
"Carl, I worked as a legal secretary for over six years, and one of my duties was to read through contracts like this for my boss to make sure everything was in order. He trusted my ability in that respect more than he trusted his own!"
"Oh! Well, it's up to you, Sarah. If you feel comfortable signing it on the spot, we'll be happy to cut you a check."
"May I take a couple of minutes to read it, then, please?"
"Feel free, Sarah. I'll wait."
She settled into the stuffed leather chair and began studying the document closely, while Wilkins spent the time appreciating her very bosomy form. Sarah's breasts were so big that they seemed to fill her entire lap as she sat reading. Her fat nipples poked out generously from within her bra and sweater, stirred by the cool ambient air.
She shifted in her chair and picked up a pen to make a notation on the document, and her heavy bosom swayed and bobbled in response. Wilkins realized he was beginning to become aroused, so he crossed his legs and focused his attention on elsewhere anywhere other than Sarah's extraordinary bustiness.
Finally, she sat up and announced, "This looks fine. One question: do you have any objection if I keep using Mike Hinkle as my photographer?"
"You mean exclusively? We have three photographers that work for us on a regular basis, and all of them have told me how much they'd love to shoot a session with you."
"I have no objection to that in fact, I think that'd be a good experience for me. I just want to use Mike as my primary vendor. It's because of him that you and I are doing business right now! I feel like I owe him, and I want to keep him in the loop."
"I understand. By the way, we'll be sending Mister Hinkle a handsome finder's fee for bringing you to our attention."
"I'm glad to hear that." Sarah folded a couple of the document's pages back and explained, "I did make one small correction on page three." Handing the contract back to Wilkins, she continued, "I initialed it in the margin, and you should sign your initials there, too, if you concur."
He put on his reading glasses and examined her revision. "Right. I'm glad you caught that the wording was a little too vague, there, wasn't it." As he initialed the correction, he commented, "I should hire you as my executive assistant."
"Until about ten minutes ago, I'd have jumped at the job!" she answered with a grin.
Wilkins signed the contract and handed it back to Sarah. As she added her signature, the editor picked up his phone and hit the zero button. "Judy, put me through to Ricardo, please." While he waited, he watched Sarah cross her legs, which shifted her short skirt even higher on her thighs. Ricardo answered just in time.
"Rick, we need to cut a check to Miss Covington for $50,000... That's right... No, she read it over and understands it completely she even made a correction," he said, smiling at her. "It's all signed and legal! ...Great! Send the check to my office as soon as possible, please."
Wilkins followed Sarah out of his office, and raised his voice so he could be heard above the noise in the open work area. "People, your attention please! I'm happy to announce that Miss Sarah Covington has just signed an exclusive one-year contract with Extreme Curves magazine!" The small staff applauded the news, eagerly congratulating Sarah and their boss. "I have a feeling that this partnership will open up exciting new opportunities for all of us, and I look forward to the bright future that lies ahead..."
As he continued his impromptu oration, Sarah marveled inwardly at the fact that she held a check in her hand for $50,000! Just a few weeks ago, she was having trouble paying her rent!
After Wilkins had finished his speech, it was snapshot time again. Someone got out a disposable camera and asked Sarah to hold up her check and shake hands with the editor. They complied, grinning like fools.
A few minutes later, everyone drifted back to their regular routines. Wilkins, still buoyant, turned to Sarah and asked, "When is your flight back home?"
"Tomorrow afternoon," she replied.
"If you don't have any other plans, why don't you let us take you out for dinner tonight, to celebrate?"
"That sounds wonderful!"
"Super! If you'll just make yourself comfortable in the lobby while I make a couple of calls, we'll be ready to go in a few minutes."
"This early? It's not even four o'clock yet!"
"Sweetheart, I'm the boss, so I can tell my people to knock off whenever I want! The work will still be here in the morning. Besides, at this hour we can get a good table at one of the local hot spots, and just sit and drink while we wait for suppertime!"
Sarah sat in the lobby and picked up a copy of the current issue of Extreme Curves, one of several lying on the twin end tables that flanked the love seat. As she read it, someone tiptoed up and took a snapshot of her engrossed in the magazine with her own ultra bosomy form emblazoned across its cover. This photo was later used promotionally.
During a lull in incoming phone calls, Judy the receptionist struck up a conversation. "I hear you're going to be working with us some more."
"Sure am! Looking forward to it."
"That's great! You wouldn't believe how many calls I've gotten from nitwits who want to talk to you, thinking you work in this office."
Sarah chuckled. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah! I can see why they're so disappointed when I tell them you're not employed here. You must be a dream come true for breast men! Plus, you're one of the prettiest models we've ever had."
"That's nice of you to say."
"Seriously! Some of these girls, all they've got going for them is a couple of big implants but you've got it all. Did you get one of our Extreme Curves tee-shirts?"
Still absorbing the compliment, Sarah absently asked, "Tee-shirt?"
"Yeah." Judy opened a lower drawer of her desk, took out a shirt and held it up. "Our official Extreme Curves tee-shirt." Across the chest of the white shirt, the magazine's logo was emblazoned in large red letters that were graphically distorted as if two large spheres were stretching it out of shape.
"No, I don't have one," Sarah commented. Only a check for fifty thou', she silently reminded herself.
Well, here," Judy said, tossing it to her.
Judy turned out to be a chatterbox, monopolizing the time with news of her family, friends, and other notables that Sarah had never heard of.
Eventually, Wilkins appeared with a small entourage. "Sorry it took so long, Sarah. Judy, we'll be gone the rest of the afternoon. If Chuck calls, tell him I'll get with him in the morning. So! Are we all ready?"
Sarah surveyed the group. "Is Donny going?" she asked.
"Uh, well, I hadn't thought to ask him," Wilkins said, "but he's certainly welcome." Turning back to the receptionist, he instructed, "Judy, buzz Donny and tell him he's going with us."
"Let me ask him," Sarah said with a grin, stepping up to the desk. Judy punched in Donny's extension and handed the receiver to Sarah.
"Hello, this is Donny," his voice answered.
"Hi Donny, Sarah Covington here."
"Oh! Hi, Sarah!"
"Carl and some others are taking me out for dinner tonight, and I was wondering if you'd mind coming along and being my escort?"
There was a stunned pause on the other end. Suddenly he blurted out, "Y-yeah! Sure! I'd love to! What time?"
"Now, I think," she answered, glancing at Carl, who confirmed with a nod.
"Let me shut down my computer and I'll be right there!"
The line clicked off, and as Sarah handed the phone back to Judy, a triumphant shout was heard echoing from the back. Everyone chuckled.
Rosa's limousine was barely big enough to accommodate them all. Sarah volunteered to sit on Donny's lap (to his delight), ostensibly to help alleviate the crowding. In this position, the young man was afforded an extremely close-up view of her huge boobs. Watching their gentle bobbing and swaying as the vehicle made its way through town, he prayed for potholes.
The limo arrived at their destination all too soon, and the revelers were delivered curbside in front of the upscale restaurant. The décor of the establishment, both inside and out, was in the trendy neo art deco style that tended to dominate the Miami scene. As they filtered through the front door, they saw that they were predictably the first of the dinner crowd to arrive, and it took a moment for the hostess to appear. She came apologizing for the wait, and with a curious glance at Sarah's enormous bust, she led the group to a spacious booth.
Donny chose not to do any serious drinking that evening. He was determined to keep all his faculties in optimum condition on the chance (the dream, the fantasy) that he might become a very lucky man later. For everyone else, however, the alcohol flowed with liberality, loosening tongues and inhibitions.
Deborah Herman, the magazine's advertising manager, lifted her glass and announced, "I'd like to propose a toast! For making my job a hell of a lot easier in the coming year, and for bringing untold joy to our dear readers, here's to Sarah Covington and her humongous fucking tits!" Everyone snickered at the woman's tipsy homage, including Sarah. The group added their hear-hear's and raised their glasses, and one or two of the revelers jokingly called, "Speech! Speech!"
Sarah chuckled and cleared her throat. "My humongous fucking tits and I would like to thank you all for your kindness. The three of us are having a very nice time," she said, breaking into giggles.
Then, leaning across the table, Deb whispered as if no one else could hear, "I have to know what size bra do you take, anyway?"
"R."
"What are??"
"No!" Sarah said, chuckling. "An R-cup bra."
"You're serious an R-cup! Shit, that must be some brassiere, honey. I'd love to see that baby sometime," she said with a laugh.
"Well here, have a look." Sarah arched her back and reached behind her, thrusting her hands up under her sweater and unhooking her bra. Every eye at the table was riveted on her huge thrusting bosom as it slipped a few inches lower on her chest. Then, after a few deft maneuvers, she pulled the bra out through her sleeve and dangled it from one finger for everyone to see. This drew chuckles and light applause. Though its enormity was no surprise, the bra was silky and lightweight, more like a bikini top than the industrial strength brassiere one might expect to find in service of such extraordinarily robust mammaries.
"Why, there's hardly anything to it!" Deb exclaimed, taking it from Sarah and examining it. "How can such a delicate thing support those great big boobs of yours, honey?"
"Well, its custom made, of course, and the company I bought this from is very high-tech. Believe it or not, that bra has Kevlar in it. That's the stuff they make bullet proof vests out of!"
Everyone gazed at the garment with great respect.
Holding it against her own modestly endowed chest for comparison, Deb asked impishly, "Since I'm pretty sure you can't put this thing back on the same way you took it off, what are you gonna do now for support?"
Sarah calmly moved her glass toward the center of the table and slid her silverware to either side, ceremoniously brushing away a few imaginary crumbs. Then she grasped her hefty bosom between her hands, lifted it up and placed the oversize load on the table in front of her. "How's this?" she asked rhetorically. Everybody laughed, though the merriment of the males was somewhat distracted.
At that moment, their waitress appeared to take their entrée orders. "Are we ready to..." she began, suddenly mute as she noticed Sarah's great breasts lying on the tabletop.
"Pardon me," Sarah murmured sheepishly, as she lifted her overabundance from the table and eased them down onto her torso again. After a moment, everyone broke into laughter at the situation, even the dumbfounded little waitress.
After placing their orders, the group began talking in a more serious manner about what strategies the magazine could use in exploiting their new partnership with Sarah. As in any respectable brainstorming session, there were good ideas and some not so good, and Wilkins made notes about both on his napkin.
As Sarah listened to the various concepts being volleyed back and forth, she began absently playing with the top button of her sweater. Eventually it popped open, and finding the cool air on her exposed skin to be very pleasant, she proceeded to unfasten some more buttons. Looking down approvingly at the cleavage she had just unveiled, she pulled her lapels apart to widen the exposure.
Deborah soon noticed Sarah's advancing décolletage, and brazenly commented, "Your top's coming unbuttoned, sweetie."
Donny and Ned Lambert, a staff copywriter, both responded together, "Shut up, Deb!" The perfect timing of their unison retort drew guffaws from the entire group.
By the time their food arrived and the brainstorming ceased, Wilkins had a respectable list of ideas for ways to promote Sarah in the future. The group turned their attention to what was on their plates, and conversation lulled for a time.
"So Sarah," Donny eventually asked, "do you have a web site?"
"My own web site? No..."
"You definitely need to have one."
"Absolutely," Wilkins chimed in. "As soon as possible, too. You've become quite popular, and you can bet there are thousands of people who are on line right now, trying to find your web site or any other mention of you!"
"Oh! But why is it so important for me to have one?"
"Money, honey," Deborah advised. "With all those thousands of horny guys who are hungry to see your pictures and read about you, imagine each of them paying you ten or twelve bucks every month to be a member of your site, so they can have access to all that. You really don't have to have a web site only if you want to make a ton of money."
"Well, I don't know a thing about starting a web site," Sarah admitted.
"You don't have to: that's why nature produced geeks, my dear," Deb explained.
"I can recommend somebody," Donny offered. "He's a pro, not one of these spare-time Dreamweaver jockeys. He'll do a top-notch job for you at a reasonable price, and he can host you, too. He doesn't object to adult content, either in fact, he'll love you."
"A boob man, huh?" asked Deb.
"Dyed-in-the-wool. His name is Ed Boggs I'll put you in touch with him if you'll give me your email address, Sarah," Donny suggested.
"That'd be great, thanks!" She was of a mind to let Donny have much more than just her email address. As time passed and the group continued consuming their supper, Sarah began playing footsy with him, and he happily responded in kind. They both did their best to discreetly hide their silliness from the others, though if someone had watched closely, they'd have noticed the subtle smirks on their faces.
Sarah surprised herself with her uninhibited behavior: conduct that was partly due to the influence of the wine, and partly to the fact that she was among people with whom she had no history. They had no particular expectations of her, and she was free to act according to whatever whim that might strike her. Leaning against Donny, she pressed her lips against his ear and whispered, "I want you to make love to me tonight!"
The man unexpectedly swallowed the mouthful that he wasn't finished chewing, and turned to look at Sarah's grinning face. With a wink, he discreetly slipped his hand under the table, moved her short skirt up and caressed her inner thigh, sending a thrill down her spine.
Sarah felt an intoxicating sense of power at her command something she'd never experienced before. With just a few words, she had propositioned a man that had caught her fancy, and he was hers!
Eventually everyone finished their dinner, and the group moved their party to a glitzy high-end strip palace, a favorite among the earnestly hip. It was a regular watering hole for the Extreme Curves crew, and they were warmly received by the staff upon arrival. Everyone who saw Sarah marveled at her bosomy figure, turning their heads to watch as she and her companions were ushered to a stage-side table.
As the group gave the topless waitress their drink orders, Sarah gazed up at the stripper who was going through her routine on stage. The young woman was impressively busty, and she knew how to capitalize on her generous attributes, deftly slinging her big breasts around as she danced. Sarah admired how she was able to control every bounce and jiggle for maximum effect. When the act was over, the audience cheered for her, and Sarah joined their enthusiastic response.
Another dancer immediately came on stage and began performing. As Sarah watched, she commented, "This girl's boobs are even bigger than the last one's!"
Carl nodded and explained, "That's by design. This place is oriented to big-bust dancers, and every night, the girls perform in order according to breast size, the biggest appearing last. That way, patrons always tend to stay longer to see the next number. The longer they stay, the more they drink, and the more they drink, the more money the house makes."
"Works for me," quipped Ned, lifting his glass.
"Who's headlining tonight?" asked Donny.
"The marquee said Ophelia Biggens," answered Carl.
"Oh!" Sarah chirped. "I know her! I mean I've seen her video. Her boobs are really huge!"
"Yeah, they sure are," Carl agreed as everyone else nodded their assent.
"You're a bit bigger, though," Donny pointed out.
"Seriously?" Sarah asked, surprised.
"Definitely," he assured her.
"Trust him," Carl commented. "Donny's an expert in the field."
As the group chuckled, Sarah recalled what an electrifying experience it had been to see Ophelia Biggens' enormous bare boobs when she and Owen had watched the model's video some months back. It was sobering to realize that her own breasts had now gotten even bigger than Ophelia's.
During the course of the evening, a constant stream of well-wishers stopped by to say hello to the Extreme Curves staff and ogle their extraordinarily bosomy guest. The crowd at large was also disproportionately dense near their table, as people gravitated there and craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Sarah.
After a break in the stage show, the evening's entertainment culminated with the appearance of Ophelia Biggens on the stage floor. She came out dressed in a nurse's uniform, her silicon-gorged bosom straining hard at the costume's seams, and began gyrating to the rhythm of the music. As her dance unfolded, more and more of the costume fell from her ultra-curvaceous body, until finally there was nothing left but her high heels. Sarah sat mesmerized as she watched Ophelia cavort across the stage in the nude, handily slinging her enormous tits around to the beat of the music. The outrageously busty dancer elicited the clamorous appreciation of her audience throughout the entire number, and Sarah drew comfort from the atmosphere of acceptance and esteem for the performer's grandiose bosom.
During the course of her performance, Miss Biggens spotted the Extreme Curves crew and called out a greeting to them over the loud music. When she noticed the lovely balloon-breasted babe sitting among them, she danced over to the edge of the stage, standing right by their table, and pointed at Sarah with a big grin. Then she leaned toward her and shook her heavy breasts back and forth, as if they were saying hello to Sarah's own huge pair. Sarah laughed and shook hers back at the woman.
After Ophelia had concluded her number to a clamor of applause, the emcee came out on stage to bring the stage show to a close.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he called into the microphone, "that was Ophelia Biggens! Great job, Ophelia! ...And now, I want to bring a good friend of mine on stage and introduce him to you Carl, come on up here!"
Wilkins grinned and got up from the table. As he walked toward the stage stairs, the emcee continued, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Editor-in-Chief of Extreme Curves magazine, Mister Carl Wilkins!" The audience applauded politely as Wilkins stepped onto the small stage, waving.
"It's great to have you here tonight, Carl!" the emcee said, and then pointed the microphone at Carl.
"Great to be here, Bobby."
"Carl, I wonder if you'd mind introducing that gorgeous woman sitting at your table there," he asked, handing the microphone to Wilkins.
"Thank you, Bobby." He cleared his throat and gestured toward Sarah. "This young lady come on up here, Sarah is the cover girl and centerfold of the current issue of Extreme Curves." Sarah's eyes widened. She had no idea Carl was going to do this. "If you've never seen her," he continued, "prepare to have your socks knocked off! And even if you've seen her in our magazine, you'll be amazed all over again, because this lovely lady's huge boobs have grown even bigger since those pictures were taken!" As Sarah stood and worked her way toward the stage, her enormous bosom jiggled and swayed heavily, to the wonder of everyone watching. "We've just signed a deal with this extraordinary model, and you'll be able to see her in every issue of Extreme Curves as we follow this lady's, uh development! Her story is just as remarkable as her figure, so please say hello to Sarah Covington!"
Applause erupted, peppered with hoots and whistles, as Sarah climbed the steps with her hefty unsupported mammaries bouncing deeply under her sweater. When she reached the stage and walked out to stand beside Carl, the audience went crazy. Flashbulbs popped and everyone was on their feet cheering. Wilkins grinned and shook his head as the ovation continued unabated, and then with a wink at Sarah, he simply handed her the microphone and walked off the stage.
Sarah was stunned by her reception. As the acclamation carried on, it became necessary for security to restrain a man who was trying to climb up onto the stage. People were calling out to her, shouting things she couldn't understand for the tumult. The clamor eventually coalesced into a chant, "Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!"
Sarah chuckled and brought the microphone up to her mouth. "You want me to take off my top?" The crowd roared their affirmation. Putting on a confused expression, she scratched her head and asked, "Well, why do you want me to do that?"
A man shouted out, "We wanna see your tits!" The audience applauded again.
"These?" Sarah asked, as if it was the oddest request she'd ever heard. "You want to see these?" She leaned forward and gently rotated her shoulders, making her enormous unbrassiered bosom sway pendulously within her sweater. The patrons cheered her so enthusiastically that she had to laugh, which caused her exposed cleavage to ripple deliciously as her chest heaved.
Sarah stood upright and began trying to unfasten a button with her free hand as the applause swelled to crescendo. She made a show of not being able to undo her button with only one hand, and she then looked about in vain for a place to put the microphone. From offstage, Bobby pointed to a nearby stand, but she ignored him. Instead, she leaned over and stuck the wireless mic up her short skirt, clamping it between her thighs, but pretending to place it much farther up than she actually did. The audience loved it.
Then she resumed unbuttoning her top, now with both hands. The cheering grew more frenzied with each button that fell open, revealing more of Sarah's huge bosom. When the last one was unfastened, she stood with arms akimbo and her sweater hanging freely but still covering her chest. After thus teasing the onlookers for a moment, she suddenly swept off the garment and stood before them in unveiled grandeur.
The people went berserk, whistling and hollering, and clapping until their hands stung. As Sarah stooped to retrieve the microphone from between her legs, her enormous bare breasts swung about ponderously. After straightening back up and securing the mic back on its stand, she walked to the front of the stage and leaned forward, allowing her huge tits to dangle just a few inches from the eagerly grasping hands of those in front. Then, turning her back to the crowd, she held her lavish hair up behind her head and sashayed toward the rear of the stage, handily swinging her lovely fanny. The amount of wobbling bosom that could be seen from behind was startlingly abundant.
Turning toward the audience again, she strutted to center stage and came to a sudden stop that sent thick shudders rippling through her enormous bare breasts. Then slowly, she turned her profile to the onlookers, and thrust out her chest to maximize her extraordinary protuberance. She looked at the audience and gave them a comic wag of her eyebrows.
After allowing the flashbulbs to ogle her for a few seconds, she picked up her sweater from the floor where she'd tossed it, and turned to face the crowd. When they realized she intended to cover her incredible torso again, some booed.
Sarah smiled and shook her finger at them scoldingly. She stepped over to the microphone stand and moved it to the center of the stage. She'd just opened her mouth to speak when a man in the audience yelled, "I love you, Sarah!" The crowd laughed.
"I'd like to thank you for your kindness tonight I never expected this at all!" After the responding applause had faded, she continued, "Now, you bad boys know I can't go home like this," she reprimanded amiably, gesturing to her swaying magnificence. "But I'll tell what I'll do I happened to take off my little ol' brassiere earlier this evening," she said, pulling the bra out of her skirt pocket and letting it dangle from her finger. "For those of you who've never seen a girl put on an R-cup bra before, this seems like a fine opportunity!"
This was met with rowdy enthusiasm. As Sarah began putting it on, she leaned toward the microphone and asked, "Does anyone have a question they'd like to ask me? People always seem to be so curious about the size of my boobs, but they're usually too shy to talk to me about them."
Someone shouted, "What are your measurements?"
"My measurements are 52-22-36!" These statistics were received with ardent approval. She held the bra by a strap and guided one of her huge tits into the generous cup, delicately tucking in the swollen gland. "Another question?"
"Are your boobs really still growing?" someone called.
"They're growing, yes, but I can't really say they're still growing. I stopped developing when I was in high school, and I assumed I'd be flat chested all my life," she explained, wrestling her other oversize mammary into its harness. "Then one day, boom! They started growing again like crazy, and they haven't stopped!"
Over a smattering of applause, a woman shouted out, "Can I have some?"
Sarah laughed and leaned forward to give the band of her big brassiere a good shaking, so her huge breasts would settle more comfortably into the garment's cups. Then she straightened up, lifted her fleshy bosom from the bottom and dropped it, causing it to shudder and quake. The crowd hooted their appreciation.
"Are they implants?" a young man asked.
A few of the more knowledgeable observers in the audience chuckled at his ignorance.
"No, I don't have implants," she assured him. "My breasts are 100 percent natural."
The emcee stood offstage, watching Sarah for a sign that she was ready to leave the platform. When she looked around hesitatingly, he took that as his cue and walked back into the lights. Taking the mic, he announced, "Let's hear it again for Sarah Covington!"
The crowd cheered loudly as Sarah waved and left the stage, heading back to the table with her huge tits rollicking heavily within her brassiere. She slipped her sweater back on while she made her way through the milling crowd, fastening only the bottommost buttons and leaving a wide tract of cleavage exposed. Ophelia Biggens was sitting naked at the table with the group when Sarah arrived, and taking a chair next to Ophelia, Sarah was welcomed with a small round of applause.
"Great job, sweetheart!" Carl exclaimed.
"They love you Sarah!" Deb gushed.
"You had that crowd eating out of your hand, girl!" Ophelia announced. "Carl tells me you don't have an act!"
"Well, everybody has an act," Sarah said with a wink.
The huge-bosomed model chuckled and asked, "I mean, you've never danced on stage?"
"No, that was the first time I've ever taken off my clothes in public. What a rush!"
"You bet it is! I'm surprised to hear you haven't been on stage, because you've got such good presence."
"Oh, I'm accustomed to public speaking. I used to make presentations to audiences of a couple hundred people or more when I worked for the law firm."
"How did they ever pay attention to anything except your bust?" Ophelia asked with a laugh.
"Because at the time, I was just a B-cup. After my boobs started getting really big, the firm canned me."
"That's the best thing that could have happened to you, honey," the stripper assured her. "Now you have a fun career, and a much more lucrative one. Plus, you're gonna make a lot of men very happy! You are going to start dancing professionally, aren't you?"
"I would, but I can't. Dance, that is. I'm afraid I was born with two left feet."
"Oh, phooey on that. The only reason you can't dance is because nobody ever taught you. Hell, if Rita Raxx can make a living by what she calls dancing, anybody can."
"Is there some school that teaches stripping?"
"Yeah," Donny interjected with a twinkle in his eye. "There's the University of Iowa College of Exotic Dance, for example."
Ophelia waved him off with a laugh. "Seriously, there are a few schools that actually offer courses, but if you're interested, I could teach you everything you need to know."
"You'd do that?"
"In a New York minute!"
"Are you sure? Because I'm a hopeless klutz!"
Ophelia looked at her slyly. "No you're not. You handled yourself really well up there just now especially for your first time. I was very impressed!"
"Seriously you'd be willing to teach me?"
"Sure! I'd love to."
Sarah thought a moment and said, "When can we start?"
Ophelia smiled. "As soon as my tour is over, which is in about five weeks."
"Excuse please," a voice interrupted. A Japanese tourist was standing next to their table, holding a camera in his hand and grinning widely. His wife stood behind him, smiling and nodding. "May I take photograph?" he asked, gesturing to Ophelia and Sarah.
"Sure, doll," Ophelia responded, putting her arm around Sarah's shoulder.
The man then pointed to Sarah's bust and sheepishly asked, "Expose bosom, please?"
The group chuckled, and Ophelia commented, "This'll be great!"
Sarah grinned as she unbuttoned her top, revealing her enormous brassiere. Then, pulling down at the neckline of the bra, she popped her huge breasts out of the cups and placed them on the table beside Ophelia's enormous glands. The man bowed gratefully and began snapping pictures of the extravagantly buxom women. It was a riveting sight as the two beauties sat side by side with their arms around each other's shoulders, and their enormous breasts bared and resting on the tabletop, four in a row.
The man and his wife bowed again and thanked the ladies, but Ophelia interrupted them, saying, "Wait a minute sweetie, we're not through with you yet!" With a grin, she reached and grasped the man's arm, pulling him toward the table. "Sit with me on my chair here, right between me and my friend Sarah," Ophelia commanded. She drew the little man toward her, making him sit cheek to cheek with her, then indicating for Sarah to scoot her chair close to them. "Now give the camera to your wife, doll," she instructed, pointing." He managed to stop gawking at the cluster of giant naked breasts swarming around him and handed the camera to his wife.
The woman peered through the viewfinder, making adjustments as her husband gave directions in Japanese. Sarah and Ophelia each wrapped an arm around the man's neck, and as they snuggled against him, their respective pairs of tremendous mammaries nuzzled his chest. By the time the woman had taken their picture, several other flashes had captured the moment as well.
The man was released from the busty women's custody, and then Ophelia insisted upon repeating the routine with his wife, too. Sarah expected the little lady to resist, but she turned out to be very enthusiastic instead. Once everyone was seated, the woman looked in astonishment at the huge breasts that were piled up on the table just inches from her face, and she said with awe, "Very big bosom!" Everyone chuckled as cameras continued to flash. After thanking Ophelia and Sarah again, the couple left.
Eventually, closing time arrived and the lights came up, encouraging people to go home. After exchanging phone numbers and email addresses with Ophelia, Sarah hooked her arm around Donny's while the group stood lingering, about to leave. Wilkins stepped up on the other side of Donny and quietly murmured, "There's something I want you to do for me first thing in the morning, Donny."
"Yes, sir?"
"Come in late!" he said with a wink and a pat on the back.
"This is it," Donny proclaimed as he pulled into the driveway. It was a modest but well maintained home, surrounded by small trees, shrubs, and flowerbeds. The vehicle came to a stop under a carport that protected them from the rain that clattered noisily on its metal roof. They got out of the car and Donny escorted Sarah inside the house.
"It's no mansion," he apologized, turning on a lamp, "but it's home."
"This is really nice, Donny!" Sarah commented, looking around at the seasoned but comfortable surroundings. "It's such a cozy place like you said: home."
"It may be small," he said as he walked over to a floor length curtain, "but it does have a nice view out back." He pulled the curtain aside and opened a sliding glass door. "Come on out!"
As she followed Donny through the door and out onto a screened-in porch, Sarah began to hear the ebb and flow of surf under the racket of the storm. Peering through the darkness, she saw the phosphorescence of the crashing waves, and exclaimed, "Wow! You're right on the beach!"
"Yeah. I love this place! Every morning I sit out here and meditate for a half-hour or so. It puts me in a good place to start the day."
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they held hands and stood silently watching the ocean roll in and out. Donny's gaze drifted to his companion's bosom, admiring its beauty and marveling at its extraordinary size.
Sarah glanced at him as he ogled her. Smiling, she turned toward him and slowly began unbuttoning her sweater. Donny intently watched her fingers move ever lower as she exposed more and more of her profound bosom. Finally, the last button was unfastened, and she opened the garment for him. Constrained within her now-infamous R-cup brassiere, her extraordinary tits ballooned out imposingly from her chest. Sarah tossed the sweater aside and proceeded to unhook her bra, revealing her huge, naked breasts. As Donny stood open-mouthed, gaping at Sarah's enormous swaying tits in the dim light, a small gasp escaped from his throat, which both flattered and amused her.
"Mercy!" Donny exclaimed with a look on his face like that of a child opening the best Christmas present ever. "They're so big and so beautiful! I was really amazed by their size when I first saw your photos, and now they're even bigger!" He reached out his hands and stroked the sides of her enormous tits, marveling at them.
"I'm glad they give you such pleasure," Sarah replied. As Donny gently squeezed them together, she placed her hands on top of his, encouraging his play and sharing in his caresses.
Sarah awoke to find herself alone in Donny's bed, with the sound and aroma of frying bacon emanating from the kitchen.
After a wonderful night of sex, she felt relaxed and thoroughly satiated. Donny's lovemaking had been extremely enthusiastic and skillful, having lavished pleasure after pleasure upon her.
She threw the sheet aside, which had been the only thing covering her nakedness. Sitting up, she stretched and then padded off to pee. Her panties were hanging on the bathroom doorknob, so she put them on before walking out to say good morning to Donny.
Sarah appeared in the kitchen, ready to greet her host, but before she could utter a word, she realized to her shock that the man who stood at the stove cooking in his jockey shorts was not Donny. He was a nice-looking middle aged man with gray stubble on his face.
He turned and gaped at Sarah who stood like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights, trying to cover her naked breasts for propriety's sake. Their great size, however, made this effort rather futile. The man turned his gaze back to the pan of frying eggs, and said with a grin, "Well, hello there, young lady! I'm Johnny, Donny's dad. I suppose that in the heat of the moment, my son forgot to mention that I live with him. Why don't you find something to wear and come join us for some breakfast? I saw Donny out back meditating. He ought to be through pretty soon."
Sarah smiled sheepishly and answered, "I'd like that, thanks. I'll be right back."
In a minute she returned wearing a large tee shirt with a map of Florida stretched across her oversize bosom. Johnny had put on Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt in the meantime, and was nearly finished cooking breakfast. A third plate had been put on the table.
"I should introduce myself," Sarah said as she came back into the kitchen. "I'm Sarah Covington."
"It's nice to make your acquaintance, Sarah. I'm sorry we had to meet that way I imagine you weren't half as surprised as I was! I hope this won't make you feel awkward."
"Not at all, Johnny," Sarah assured him. "Can I help you do something?"
"Well, if you don't mind, the silverware needs to be put on the table. It's in the drawer right beside you."
After Sarah had collected enough utensils for three, she asked, "Where are your napkins? I'll put those out, too."
"In that holder on the counter, darlin'. Thanks." While Johnny transferred helpings of scrambled eggs from the pan to the three plates that were set, Sarah laid the flatware and paper napkins at each place. As she leaned over the table to perform these tasks, the animated jostling of her huge breasts within the tee shirt created an arresting distraction for the cook.
"So, do you and Donny live here by yourselves?" Sarah asked.
"Yep. Just the two of us. He's pretty good about puttin' up with his old man."
"What happened to Donny's Mom, if you don't mind my asking?"
"I don't mind a bit. She ran off with our drummer when Donny was just a little guy. Haven't seen her since. She wasn't a bad woman, mind you. Just couldn't stay with one thing for too long."
"She ran away with your drummer?"
"Yeah, I had a band called the Castaways. We were a one-hit-wonder, and our claim to fame was a song called 'Stop and Think'. But that was before your time."
"I've heard that on the radio! That's you?"
"Yep."
"Did you sing it?"
"Sang it, wrote it, played lead guitar on it."
"Wow! So you're a rock-n-roll star, huh?" she teased.
Johnny laughed. "Well, I had my fifteen minutes. That song has been good to me, though. Over the years, it's been covered a lot, and it was used in a couple of movies, so I get royalty checks that allow me to live this life of luxury," he said dryly as he wiped his hands on the dishtowel he was wearing as an apron.
Sarah chuckled as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Seriously, though," Johnny continued, "This really is a great situation for me. I don't have to work except to cook and keep house here and I get to spend an early retirement living on the beach, enjoying Florida's beautiful weather, which is just about perfect except for the occasional hurricane."
"It really is beautiful here. This is my first visit to Florida, and I'm enjoying it a lot."
"You're a model with the magazine, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I came down here on business yesterday."
"I assumed you were probably the gal Donny's been talking about," he said with a deliberate glance at Sarah's huge bosom. "At the risk of sounding crude, I gotta say that's quite a handsome figger you got there, young lady!"
Sarah smiled. "Why, thank you, Johnny!"
"So what led you to become a model?" he asked as he brought a plate of bacon over to the table and began putting strips into each plate.
"A very unusual turn of events, actually. Until last spring I was pretty much flat-chested, and then suddenly my boobs started growing again!"
"You're kiddin' me!" Johnny protested.
"I promise! They've been growing furiously ever since, too."
"So I see!"
"It changed a lot things in my life besides just my bra size. I used to be a real shrinking violet, and now I'm a nude model in an international men's magazine! Heck, last night I even stripped to my waist on a live stage!"
"Well, I can imagine how it might be difficult to remain shy and retiring after suddenly growing a set of punkins like you got! I imagine all eyes are on you ever'where you go," he remarked as he sat across from her at the table.
"That was something to get used to, but the most difficult thing for me still, is when people treat me unfairly because of the size of my breasts. I lost my job, my boyfriend, and I almost lost my dignity but I chose to fight back instead: to make the best of the situation. Now things are looking up!"
Footsteps on the deck announced Donny's approach a moment before he opened the back door and stepped inside. "Good morning, everybody! I see you two have met."
"I'll say," his dad murmured.
With their plates empty and their stomachs full, they continued to sit at the table in idle conversation as the sun climbed higher over the water. Looking out through the big panels of plate glass that comprised the kitchen's exterior wall, Sarah didn't see a soul out and about.
"Is this a private beach?" she asked.
"Very private," Donny answered. "Almost all of the people who live along here are older retired people who rarely go out on the beach unless the grandkids are visiting. Dad and I are the only ones who regularly swim here."
"It looks so inviting. I wouldn't mind going for a swim later today, if it gets as warm as it was yesterday."
"Actually, it's already warm enough out there to swim!"
"Wow! Unfortunately, my bathing suit's at the hotel along with the rest of my things."
"Don't let that stop you," Donny advised. "It's our beach, so you can swim nude if you want to. I do myself, occasionally."
"Well, I just might! I've never been skinny dipping before I was always too chicken. Funny how things change in life. These days, being naked has become my career! Sometimes I even like to go nude when I'm just hanging around the house!"
"Must be interesting for Jehovah's Witnesses, when they come to call," Johnny commented.
Glancing up at the kitchen clock, Donny said, "Well, I'd better get going."
"Aren't you running kinda late, son?"
"Carl gave me his blessing. But, I have a ton of work waiting for me, and I'm not getting it done sitting here." Taking Sarah's hand, he asked, "Will I see you again before you have to go home?"
"Yes, if you don't mind putting up with me for a little longer. I'm a lady of leisure now," she said with a grin. "I don't have to go anywhere."
"Really? Could you, like, stay for a few days?"
"I'd love to, Donny!"
"Great! Hey you could even marry me and live here for the rest of your life!"
Sarah and Johnny chuckled at him. "You may be trying to move a little too fast, there, son," Johnny advised.
With a grin, Donny responded, "Well, I'd kick myself if I didn't at least ask!" He got up from the table and kissed Sarah good-bye. As he walked out of the kitchen, he called over his shoulder, "I'll see you two later!"
"Will you be working late?" Johnny asked.
He stopped just before closing the front door after him, and answered with a gleam in his eye, "Not tonight!"
After Donny had gone, Sarah looked at Johnny and said, "Let me help you clean up here."
He held up a hand and protested, "I'll get it!"
"I really don't mind at all!"
"Neither do I. You're a guest in this house. Relax and enjoy yourself!"
"Come on, Johnny!"
"I insist!"
She sat idly for a moment, then rose and walked to the sliding glass door, opening it enough so she could stand on its threshold and look out at the waves lapping on the sand. A warm, gentle breeze blew invitingly on her face from the water. "Since you won't let me help you clear the table, would it be okay if I went for a swim?"
"By all means! Clean towels are in the hall closet."
"Thanks!" On her way out of the kitchen, she took her dishes to the sink under Johnny's protest, and then disappeared around the corner. In less than a minute, with inertia still holding Johnny in his chair, Sarah came back through carrying a towel, not wearing a stitch. With her huge naked breasts bouncing merrily, she giggled as she passed him on her way out the back door.
Binoculars in one hand and a telephone in the other, Johnny stood at his bedroom window watching Sarah's nude antics in the surf. "Bill? Johnny... Fine; yourself? ...You might want to take a sneaky peek out your back window, and get a look at some interesting local wildlife out on the beach right now... Well, let's just say it's something you don't see every day."
About an hour later, Johnny glanced out the window and saw that Sarah was apparently finished swimming. The tide was high, crashing loud and close, and she was nowhere in sight. He assumed she'd come back inside while he was in the bathroom.
One of the rules that Donny had set down when his father moved in with him was that there was to be no smoking inside the house; so since it was time for his mid-morning cigarette, Johnny headed out the back door onto the deck. Like a ship's captain surveying his domain, he stood at the railing looking out at the horizon as he tapped a smoke out of its pack. He lit it and drew his first puff, savoring the moment.
Suddenly he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Johnny turned his head and saw Sarah standing under the outdoor showerhead at the far end of the deck, rinsing the sticky salt off her naked body after swimming. At first he was uncomfortable about having again breached her privacy, but then he saw her wave at him nonchalantly. What an incredible body that child has, he thought. Chuckling, he waved back at her and then turned, strolling down the deck until he disappeared around the corner of the house.
Sarah got up from a nap after lunch and wandered through the quiet house and into the kitchen, where she discovered a freshly brewed pot of coffee that smelled delightful. After pouring herself a cup, she took a sip and gazed out the window at the ocean. She decided it might be very pleasant to sit out on the deck and take in the seaside ambience while she enjoyed her coffee.
Upon stepping out the back door, she found Johnny sitting on a bench against the house, holding his own cup of coffee in one hand and a smoldering joint in the other. "Oh, here you are!" Sarah said, sitting down next to him. "You rock-n-rollers: always smokin' that pot," she teased.
Johnny smiled and slowly shook his head. "Here I was trying to be real discreet while you were takin' a nap, and you come out here and bust me!" he whined facetiously, offering her the joint.
Sarah surprised herself by accepting it. "I've never actually smoked this stuff before," she muttered, lifting it to her lips.
"Just relax and go with it. Let it sneak up on you. It won't knock you over or nothin': it'll just make you nice and mellow," the man advised as he watched the pronounced visual effect of Sarah's lungs filling to capacity.
After holding her breath for a while, she let it out and said, "Johnny, I want to apologize."
"For what?" he asked with a quizzical expression.
"This morning I shouldn't have been so cavalier about parading around naked in front of you like that."
Johnny chuckled. "Did you hear me complain?"
She smiled. "No, but I'd let myself forget how it is with guys. They say that when a man sees something sexual, he can't just shrug it off like a woman can."
"Well, Sarah, that's true, but don't be concerned. First of all, I want you to know that I'd never make a play for one of my son's girls. He's crazy about you: been talkin' about you for weeks. He was so excited when he found out you were coming to visit the magazine." He laughed and continued, "Why, if you'd accepted his proposal this morning, I believe he'd have married you in a heartbeat. So please don't give it a second thought, because I sure have enjoyed the scenery around here this morning! But if it makes you uncomfortable to cavort around in the nude where I can see you, that's something else; just don't restrict yourself on my account. I have one or two lady friends of my own if I feel the urge."
"I bet you do," she commented with a sly look.
"Now, if you do choose to shed your clothes, I hope you'll understand if steal a peek occasionally, because you sure are easy to look at."
Sarah smiled at the compliment and took another puff. "Thanks, Johnny. Don't feel guilty about that. To tell the truth, I really like it when a nice man finds pleasure in looking at my body. It makes me feel good."
"Well, it feels pretty good doin' the looking, too, I guarantee it! Now, are you gonna pass that thing, or are you just gonna sit there and keep it all to yourself?" he inquired with a wink.
Sarah giggled. "Sorry, Johnny," she apologized, passing the joint to him. As he partook of it, she asked, "Sometime this afternoon, would you do me a big favor and drive me over to my hotel so I can get my things and check out?"
"Sure thing, young lady," he answered, venting smoke out his nostrils like some wise dragon.
After Sarah and Johnny returned from the hotel, she took her bags to Donny's room and looked through them for something to wear. She decided to put on her tank top bikini, which she'd bought before her tits had begun their phenomenal expansion. She had packed it as an afterthought, not knowing if the weather would permit or if she'd even have time to swim, but she wanted to be prepared in case an opportunity presented itself. She didn't even know if the tank top could still accommodate her big boobs, as enormous as they'd become.
After removing her borrowed clothing, she stepped into the bikini bottom. When she put on the tank top, Sarah discovered that the increase in her breast size was more extreme than she'd realized. Though she was able to wrestle the shirt over her huge bosom, it was a very snug fit. Sarah' s tits were so big that the top wouldn't reach all the way down in front, leaving her tummy exposed and providing peek-a-boo glimpses of the bottoms of her swollen boobs. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and immediately decided that the swimsuit was no longer acceptable for public wear. Sarah's great globes bulged out profoundly, and her nipples jutted out almost an inch, outlined boldly in the thin fabric and drawing out a deep furrow between them. Though the top provided some degree of coverage, it did nothing to support her heavy breasts, allowing them to wag and dip unabated when she walked.
Donny arrived home from work shortly after 6:30, and as he entered the house, Sarah pranced up to greet him with her unwieldy bosom wobbling profusely within the poor top. He took her straight to the bedroom.
Mike Hinkle sat at his desk, finishing a sandwich he'd bought at a nearby deli. The morning's work had been frustrating and difficult, as was usually the case with corporate clients, but the money was worth it. At least the shoot was over and the rest of the day was his. This would be a good opportunity to clean up a few of the loose ends he'd been neglecting, and maybe he'd even get to go home early.
As he swallowed another bite of his Rueben, Mike noticed that the light on his answering machine was blinking, indicating that three messages had been received that morning while he'd been busy in the studio. Locating a pen and a note pad, he tapped the device's PLAY button and listened.
"Hi, Mike, this is Sarah Covington..." the recording announced. Mike brightened and turned up the volume. "I just got back in town after a great visit with our friends at Extreme Curves magazine. I signed an exclusive twelve-month contract with them, in fact! I wanted to tell you that, and to thank you for making it possible. Also, they asked me to schedule another session with you, as soon as you can work me in. Call me; thanks!"
Mike hit a button that stopped the machine from delivering any more messages, and then began searching his address book for Sarah's number.
When the phone rang, she was putting her dirty lunch dishes into the dishwasher, a chore that had become even less convenient now that she had to hold one arm against her bulky bosom to keep it out of the way while she worked. She trotted to the phone, drying her hands on a dishtowel.
"Hello?"
"Sarah! Mike Hinkle. I just got your message. How are you?"
"I'm doing great, Mike. You?"
"Good, thanks. Listen, if you don't mind the short notice, I don't have anything scheduled for this afternoon, and I was wondering if you'd like to come in for that shoot you called about. Are you free?"
"You mean right now?"
"Yeah. I hate to ask this all of a sudden, but I thought maybe..."
"Well actually, I don't have any real plans for this afternoon sure, why not!"
"Super!"
"So do you want me to come over right now?"
The front office door of Mike's shop was unlocked, so Sarah pushed it open and went inside. Hearing sounds coming from the studio, she called out, "Mike?" There was a loud clatter of something falling on the concrete floor, and then footsteps approached.
Mike appeared through a doorway, saying, "Hi, Sarah! Good to see you!" As he extended his hand to her, his eyes were drawn to her enormous breasts, which had again grown substantially larger since the last time he'd seen her. She was wearing a man's extra large white shirt that she'd bought as a quick and relatively cheap informal top that could accommodate her enormous bust.
"Hi, Mike," Sarah replied cheerfully, bypassing Mike's hand and giving him a hug instead. "It's good to see you, too!" After taking a step back from him, she held out her arms and looked down at her protrusive chest, saying, "How about this, huh? They've been growing like crazy!"
Mike didn't realize he was holding his breath as Sarah pulled her shirt out of her jeans and it lifted up, exposing her huge brassiere-clad bosom. "This is an R-cup bra I'm wearing, and it's already starting to bind."
"Wow!" Mike blurted. Her breasts were astonishingly large and rotund, bulging out of the bra and jutting an imposing distance from her torso. "Absolutely incredible!" he decreed, helpless to do anything but marvel at them. It was hard to believe that a woman's breasts could actually become this big, but there they were, up close and personal! "Well," he uttered, trying to collect himself, "If you'll excuse me, I've still got some set-up to do, so just make yourself at home for a few minutes until everything's ready. Coffee and snacks are right there; help yourself."
After Mike had disappeared back into the studio, Sarah sat down at his desk and began scanning around for something to occupy her attention. Sitting on a shelf behind the desk, she found a row of six small portfolios bound in shiny black leather. On the spine of each was a hand written title in silver ink: Industry, Nature, Technology, People, Corporate, and Glamour.
Sarah pulled out the portfolio entitled Glamour, and opened it up on Mike's desk. The book was full of many 8 x 10 prints of a variety of beautiful women, most of whom were much bustier than average. In fact, some of the women were extraordinarily well endowed. Some were nude, and some were semi-nude, but every shot in the portfolio was a work of art, displaying the model's loveliness dramatically but tastefully. Sarah was fascinated by the very sensual way that Mike had photographed them. It was as if he were making love to them with the camera. As she flipped through the pages, looking at photo after photo of lovely, buxom women, she began to feel a powerful intensity coming from those images, and she felt privileged to be working with such an artist.
Then she turned a page and was surprised to see her own nude body, revealed in a sultry pose that elegantly celebrated her voluptuous figure. Sarah was thrilled that she had been included in Mike's collection. As she looked at the picture, it brought to her attention how much bigger her breasts had grown since the shot had been taken. Then after a few seconds, she realized that even so, her image was the bustiest of all those she'd seen in the book.
She flipped the page, and was pleased to see that the next opening was comprised of two more photos of her. Mike had only devoted that many shots to the most exquisite models in this book, and Sarah was flattered and touched to be counted among them. When she turned the page again and found two more of her pictures, she was stunned!
"Sarah?" Mike hollered from the studio. "I'm about ready here!"
She closed the portfolio and returned it to its place on the shelf. When she walked into the studio, she saw a huge sculpture of an open hand with its palm held upward. Made of a material that looked like some sort of plastic, the shiny black hand was about seven feet long from the heel of the palm to its fingertips, and stood about ten feet tall. The base of the sculpture was swathed in a satiny material that radiated out across the floor. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the hand.
"That's from this morning's shoot. It's a prop from a series of product shots I did for one of my corporate clients. I thought I'd just reuse it for this session and save myself some set-up time. Besides, I think it'll be interesting. We'll start with a few shots of you in the palm of the hand, and then we'll move you down to the fabric on the floor. I hid a mattress under there, so you'll be nice and comfy. Why don't you take off your clothes now, and I'll go get a ladder so we can put you up on the hand."
"It'll hold me okay?"
"Yeah, no problem. It's very sturdy, and built to support up to 600 pounds."
"Mm," Sarah grunted, only moderately comforted by the data. She began undoing the buttons of her shirt. "Where'd you get it?"
"I commissioned it. I met the artist when he hired me to photograph a sculpture of his. He's really good, as you can see."
"Before I leave today, I'd like to get his number from you, if you don't mind. I might need a good sculptor for a future project I'm thinking about."
"No problem. Tell him I sent you."
By the time Mike had found his ladder and was returning to the set with it, she had hung her shirt on the back of a chair and was trying to unhook her huge brassiere. Most models preferred to undress privately, even when they're about to pose nude, but Hinkle didn't object.
When the last clasp was unfastened, he watched out of the corner of one eye as she eased the bra's grandiose burden down onto her tummy and then tossed the garment on the chair. As Sarah bent forward at the waist and pushed her jeans off of her lovely legs, he couldn't help but stop what he was doing and fix his stare on the woman's immense dangling tits for a moment. Soon, she'd removed all her clothes and stood naked as a newborn, waiting for Mike's instructions.
Making sure the ladder was secure, he invited her over with a gesture, and she approached him with her huge boobs swaying and nodding. He took her hand and helped her up, savoring the fact that he was touching the nude body of such a desirable woman. When she was safely perched upon the giant hand's palm, Mike removed the ladder and set it aside.
After turning on his stereo, he stepped behind the camera and peered through the viewfinder. He zoomed in on Sarah's immense boobs, which jiggled as she repositioned herself in the hand, and he called to her, "Sit with your back against the thumb, and cross your legs." She complied, and he gave her further instructions that fine-tuned the pose until he felt satisfied with it. She was stunning. Hinkle then hit a switch that killed the overhead lights, leaving only his fill lights to illuminate the room.
Looking through the viewfinder again, he made some minor adjustments and finally said, "Okay, hold that..." and triggered the shutter. With a soft pop and a bright flash, artificial light painted a portrait of Sarah's sensuous nude body on a four-by-five-inch canvas of acetate film.
She assumed the next pose at his direction, and as she held it for him, she thought about Mike's pin-up portfolio and how gorgeous and appealing those models had looked. The women were so full and succulent, like ripe fruit bursting with life. Sarah wondered if she affected Mike that way as he spied on her nakedness through his lens.
He was a very handsome man. She had been immediately impressed by his sexiness and calm confidence when he'd first approached her, and apparently, he'd found her attractive as well, or she wouldn't be in front of his camera. She wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him. He was an artist wouldn't his skillful hands and expressive fire translate into an asset in bed? He was also a few years older, and no doubt well experienced sexually: patient and thorough in his lovemaking, and familiar with the nuances of a woman's body and psyche. His touch had been so nice when he'd helped her up the ladder strong, yet gentle.
She stared intently at the camera lens, consciously seducing Hinkle with every inch of her spectacular body. With each shot he took, Sarah exuded a lusty invitation to pleasure that burned right through the camera and washed over him in a flood of desire. By the time he was finished shooting all the poses he wanted, tiny beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, despite the chilly air conditioning.
"That was great, Sarah! Let me get the ladder and I'll help you down." He dragged the ladder back from its temporary location and positioned it beneath the hand, holding it steady as Sarah began to climb down. It was electrifying to watch from below as she descended, her enormous tits bobbing and swinging with such gravid animation.
Skipping the last step, she hopped off the ladder and was suddenly standing right in front of him with her shuddering breasts inches from his hands and her face very close to his. Stunned by this unexpected proximity, Hinkle was at a loss for words, but somehow managed to speak what he'd already had in mind to say, prior to losing his composure. "Um, are you ready to move to the mattress?"
Somehow, as they stood almost nose to nose, looking into each other's eyes, his words came out as a sexual proposition, and he wondered if that impression was only in his mind, or if Sarah too had perceived it that way. He didn't want to offend her, but neither could he think of anything to say that would clarify his meaning, either.
She returned his deep gaze and quietly replied, "Yes. I am."
After searching her face for a moment to learn if her 'yes' meant what he hoped it meant, he threw caution to the wind, slipped his arms around her waist, and kissed her. Sarah was thrilled at his advance. She passionately clutched him to her body, mercilessly pressing her tremendous bosom against him as they embraced.
As Mike's hands moved across her bare skin, making their way toward her enormous breasts, he wished he could snap his fingers and make his clothing simply fall away. Sarah then began unfastening his trousers, as if she knew his thoughts. She plunged her hand down into his underwear, grasping his already stout erection and caressing it zealously.
He moved one hand from Sarah's immense bosom and sent it exploring between her legs, and was surprised to find that she was already well lubricated. She groaned and clutched him all the more desperately as his fingers inquired of her secrets.
"So where's this mattress of yours?" she whispered urgently.
Sarah exhaled with a great sigh of satisfaction as Mike rolled off her. "Whew!" she huffed. "I've never climaxed so many times in my life! You're incredible!"
"You're incredible, Sarah," Mike countered, stroking the enormous boob that had just rolled against his chest.
She giggled and asked, "Is this how it is with you photographers? Did you make love to all those girls I saw in your portfolio?"
Mike chuckled. "No. Not all of them."
"Ahh, most of them, then?" she asked.
"Some of them. Hey. Stay right where you are: I'm going to take some more photos."
"More? Now?"
"Yes!" he said, getting up. He picked up his pants and stepped into them, sans underwear, saying, "I want to get some shots of you the way you look right now!"
She laughed and asked, "You mean wet and messy?"
"No, I mean satisfied," he replied with a smile.
"Well, I don't think I could ever be more satisfied, so fire away!"
Editor-in-Chief Carl Wilkins opened the manila envelope Mike Hinkle had sent, and emptied the collection of new 8" x 10" prints onto his desk. When his gaze fell on the top photo, Wilkins immediately forgot to breathe. Sarah's breasts had now attained an incredible size, ballooning out from her chest with pronounced audacity, fat and full. Although he'd expected an increase, to actually see the most recent results of her fervent development was awe-inspiring: like the ripening of giant record-breaking pumpkins in the garden.
He studied the collection of photos, inspecting each at great length as he sat at his desk. His habit was to separate such prints into two piles when he first sifted through them, making one pile of immediate rejects and another for further consideration. By the time he'd finished scrutinizing all the shots, however, there was no pile of rejects. They were all well-crafted images of a very beautiful woman with an astounding body, and it was going to be a difficult task to decide which of them to publish and which not to.
As Wilkins contemplated the first series of poses showing Sarah on the giant hand, he was drawn into the alluring image, mesmerized not only by her phenomenal body, but also by the overpowering sexuality that radiated from her. She had really come a long way as a model since her first shoot: she wasn't just posing here she was seducing the camera in a very potent way.
The other series of prints, showing her lying on satin, presented a different kind of intensity. These poses were more subtle in their sensuality somehow less urgent. Perhaps satisfied was the word. Then it dawned on him: that lucky dog had her! Wilkins grinned, envying Hinkle.
After going through the entire set, he looked at his watch and was shocked to see that it was much later than he'd expected. Though it only seemed he had been working with Sarah's photos for maybe 45 minutes, it had actually been almost twice that! It was at this point that Wilkins noticed he'd become sexually aroused. After almost twenty years in the porn business, looking at pictures of naked women day after day, it was rare a photograph that could effect him so powerfully.
Picking up his phone, he punched the zero button. "Judy? Hold my calls."
When these photos of Sarah were published in the ensuing issue of Extreme Curves, sales surpassed even that of her premiere appearance, becoming the magazine's new best seller.
Sitting at her computer desk wearing only a bra and panties, Sarah called Ed Boggs' phone number and listened to it ring. On Donny's recommendation, she'd hired him to set up her web site, and though she'd communicated with him a number of times via email, this would be their first live conversation. Momentarily a female voice answered, "Boggs and Associates."
"Hello, this is Sarah Covington. I'd like to speak with Ed Boggs, please."
A click immediately came over the line and a man said, "Hi Sarah, this is Ed! That was just my virtual receptionist. It's a digital sound file I send down the phone line to deflect sales calls and other people I don't want to talk to."
The operator's voice came on again, saying, "I'm sorry, Mister Boggs is in a meeting right now, can I take a message?"
"Oops," Ed muttered. "Sorry about that." Sarah stifled a chuckle. "So," he continued, "did you buy those items I listed in my last email?"
"Yes, I did."
"Got your webcams?"
"Three of them. A friend hooked up one of them for me, here at my computer. It should be on line now."
"Okay, great. Just give me a few seconds and I'll see if I can shake hands with it." As she waited, Sarah listened to Ed's fumbling activity. Finally, his voice came back, "Okay, there it is. All I need to do is here we go gotcha! Shit!" Ed blurted out. "Oops, uh sorry! I wasn't expecting you to be in your, uh..."
"No problem, Ed," she said, waving at the camera and grinning. "You're gonna be seeing a lot more of me than this in the future, so you might as well get used to it."
Ed chuckled awkwardly and replied, "You caught me by surprise, is all. I seen your pictures in the magazine, but I didn't expect you to've grown that, uh... Anyway, you said you want to network three webcams, right?"
"Yes, this one here at my computer, and soon there'll be one in my bathroom, and the third is actually a full-blown digital camcorder that will be dedicated to a special set with a backdrop. That's where I'll stand for my daily profile shots that I want to compile into a time-lapse movie."
"Oh, right the movie that'll document the progress of your, um..."
"It'll show my boobs getting bigger over time."
Ed sighed. "Right."
"I was wondering, Ed I have a series of Polaroid shots I began taking just after my breasts started growing: can we somehow use those at the beginning of the movie?"
"I don't see why not. I've got an associate who does all my more complex graphics. He can do a good job on that."
"The thing is, the Polaroids weren't taken on a daily basis like I'm doing now. A number of weeks elapsed between each of those."
"Not a problem. My associate has a morphing program that can take care of that. Now, this camera with the backdrop -that's just for stills?"
"No, it'll also be used to do custom videos by request, as well as live netcasts and such."
"I see. And it's not hooked up yet?"
"No, neither is the one in the bathroom. But they'll both be on line soon, hopefully."
"Did you think long and hard about that bathroom cam? Like I said in my email, letting people see you in the shower is one thing, but I don't think it'd be so cool when you're taking a dump."
Sarah chuckled. "Yeah, I mentioned your concern to a friend of mine, and he suggested installing a kill-switch for that purpose."
"That'll work. Did you take a look at the first draft of your web site yet?"
"Yes I did, and it looks great!"
"I archived all your photos, and there's a link to the Extreme Curves site like you asked. The membership form isn't quite ready yet, but I was working on that when you called. I should have it by the end of the day."
"No rush on that," Sarah replied. "It's going to be a free site for the first month, as a promotional thing."
"That's fine, but you still want to have your membership application up as soon as possible, so people can start joining in advance."
"Good point."
"So I'll go ahead and post that when it's ready. The QuickTime movie page is all set, except I don't have any movies to plug into it."
"Yeah; I'm still learning how to use the software to record digital video."
"I can make the recording from here, over the web, too. In fact, we could do that right now," Ed suggested hopefully.
"Good idea! Let's do!"
"Great! Give me a second to get ready..."
Sarah looked at the video window on her screen, showing her real-time image. The picture wasn't detailed enough for her to worry about fixing her make-up, but she did smooth her hair and fluff her boobs while she waited.
"All ready, Sarah," Ed announced. "I'm recording now. Just set the phone down, and then do whatever it is you're gonna do. When you're through, pick up the phone and holler. Later, I'll edit out the beginning and end to make it nice and tight."
"Okay, Ed," she said, and put the receiver down.
Keeping one eye on the monitor, she scooted her chair back until her bosom was nicely centered in the frame. "I've been practicing this in the mirror, I hope it looks okay," she called out as she put her hands on her brassiere and began kneading her lavish bosom. After handling herself this way for a while, she reached behind her back, thrusting out her chest as she wrestled with the bra's clasps. At last, the garment suddenly went slack, hanging limply against her huge tits. Sarah slipped the straps from her shoulders and dropped the garment aside, revealing her enormous breasts in their naked glory.
Lifting one in each hand, she hefted them alternately for a while, a graphic demonstration of their extraordinary size and weight. She then lowered them back down onto her torso and began tweaking her nipples, causing them to pop out marvelously. Sarah laced her fingers behind her head and began rocking gently from side to side, making her big boobs sway enticingly, and after a half-minute or so of this, she took them in her hands and began kneading them again.
When she had thoroughly fondled her huge tits for a sufficient amount of time, she stopped and called to the telephone receiver, "That's it, Ed!" As Sarah sat scooting her chair back toward her computer desk, her boobs repeatedly swung out and then returned, slapping solidly against her tummy and inspiring Ed to continue recording.
Picking up the phone, she asked, "Did you get that?"
"Sure did."
"Was it okay?"
"Fantastic! I'll clean it up and format it, and then I'll finish building the membership form."
"Great! How long before the site is on line?"
"Depends. It might be ready in two or three days. How soon can you have those webcams up and running?"
"All I have to do is get my friend over here to finish the job. I'll find some way to persuade him."
Ed could imagine. "Alright. Just give me a call when you're set to go."
"Okay, Ed. I'll talk to you then. Bye-bye."
"Bye."
Sarah dialed Owen's number and leaned back in her chair, causing her corpulent bare boobs to slip off her chest and hang pointing in opposite directions. "Owen. This is Sarah."
"Hey, babe! I was just thinking about you."
"I was wondering if there's any way I could entice you into coming over to my apartment to install those other two cameras for me."
Jimmy climbed the stairs to the second floor of Stan's house and knocked on the DO NOT ENTER sign that was screwed to the closed door of his friend's bedroom.
"Who is it?" a voice called from within.
"It's Jimmy!"
After some shuffling, the lock clicked and the door opened. After letting him in, Stan poked out his head and checked for other traffic. Seeing no one, he shut the door and locked it again.
"Whatcha up to, dude?" Jimmy asked.
"Surfin' the net."
"Did you ever figure out how to get around your parents' lock-out software?"
Stan grinned and clicked open the window he'd hidden before letting in his friend. "No problem! And that's not all, my man check this out!"
Jimmy leaned closer to the monitor. "Dude!" he exclaimed. "It's Sarah!"
"She finally got her own site, man, and it's awesome! Plus, it's free for the first month, too!"
"That's a picture out of X-Curves, ain't it?"
"Yeah, I downloaded them all."
"She got any new ones posted?"
Stan smiled knowingly. "Wait'll you see." He clicked a link and in a few seconds another page appeared, showing a number of thumbnail images. He peered closely at the monitor and selected one of them. The new page came up blank at first, and then the photo began to slowly build itself on the screen from the top down. As the image grew more complete, it revealed more and more of Sarah's nude form, drawing gasps of amazement from Jimmy as her enlarged breasts came into view.
"This isn't a morph?"
"No, dude. It's for real!"
"Shit!" Jimmy exclaimed. "She's so fucking big!"
"I know," Stan sighed, staring fixedly at Sarah's enormous bosom.
"Her tits are way bigger than they were in the mag!"
"Damn straight. That's not all. Wait'll you see this," Stan said, navigating to another page. After a few clicks of the mouse, a digital video window appeared, and within that, a small image of Sarah came to life. The young men watched transfixed as she sat wearing only her panties and bra, feeling up her profound bosom for the webcam. When she finally took off her brassiere and revealed her huge tits, Stan and Jimmy moaned gratefully.
"Awesome, man," Jimmy intoned.
The clip finished with Sarah scooting her chair toward the camera, flopping her bare breasts.
"I love that part," Stan said, rewinding it enough to watch the last sequence again. He then clicked back a page, and as its contents reassembled on the screen, his face brightened. "Hey! This says the live cam is on!"
"A live cam? Check it out!"
Stan clicked the link and another grainy image appeared. The camera's point of view looked down on Sarah's bathroom, where she could be seen changing her clothes. Her huge bare breasts dangled heavily as she leaned over to step into a pair of jeans. She had to wiggle and squirm to pull the tight pants up over her luscious fanny, and this produced heavy rollicking in her great boobs, which the boys watched with spellbound fascination.
After zipping and snapping her jeans, she grabbed a brassiere from the doorknob and bent forward so her tits would swing out enough for her to slip them into the cavernous cups. Once her ponderous glands were nestled into the bra, Sarah straightened up and reached behind her back, struggling to fasten the clasps.
As she grimaced and writhed in her effort, Jimmy commented, "She's makin' like her tits are too big for the bra! Cool!"
She'd just worn the darn bra the other day how could it be too small already? Sarah became more frustrated by the moment as it dug deeper into her skin. Eventually she muttered, "Screw this," and gave up, throwing the bra on the floor in aggravation.
She grabbed a tee shirt from a hook behind the bathroom door, and pulled it on over her head. It, too, was a tight fit across her broad bust line, but the soft material stretched enough to conform to her extravagant contours. It was certainly more comfortable than that brassiere.
She turned to the mirror to make final adjustments. After spending a moment trying to smooth out the wrinkles in the tee shirt's stressed fabric, she lifted her enormous bosom in her hands and let it fall heavily back onto her torso. When she'd repeated that operation a couple more times, she left the bathroom to go look for her shoes. In a few seconds, the motion sensor registered a lack of activity and the camera shut itself down.
"Dude!" Jimmy exclaimed.
Stan sighed in agreement.
The telephone interrupted a nice nap Johnny was having as he sat in front of the television, where a basketball game was in progress. He walked across the living room, lifted the receiver from its cradle and answered, "McKee residence."
"Dad! Sarah just called!"
"That's real nice, son," Johnny replied, scratching. "How's she doin'?"
"She's gonna be on Letterman tonight!"
"No shit? Tonight? Wow! Thanks for the heads-up, Donny. I'm gonna have to make me a pot of coffee."
"Dad, would you tape it for me, please?"
"Sure, son."
"You can use the tape that's in the machine now. Don't forget! You remember how to do it?"
"Sure I do," Johnny said, trying to recall.
"Just press the red button on the big remote. That's all you have to do."
"No problem. What time is it now?"
The commercial faded to black, the music of the house band swelled, and the David Letterman show returned from a station break. The audience continued their applause as the camera dollied in on the show's host who sat behind a desk playing with a pencil.
"Thank you, Paul," he called to the bandleader after the music had dramatically cut off. "Our next guest is a remarkable young woman who is the current centerfold for Extreme Curves magazine..." Several male voices hooted from the studio audience.
"Thank you very much," Dave commented, evoking a bubble of laughter from the crowd. "She's a very lovely lady, and I want you to welcome her right now: Miss Sarah Covington!" Applause and cheers commenced as Dave stood and gestured to the opposite side of the studio.
When Sarah walked out from behind a curtain, the audience clapped their hands incredulously, and a few women shrieked as they watched the beautiful smiling girl stroll onto the set with her colossal bosom wobbling before her. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress, and a matching jacket that utterly failed to disguise the enormity of her bust. As she walked toward Letterman, her huge boobs dipped heavily with each step.
After greeting Sarah and shaking her hand, Dave gestured for her to walk around in front of the two vacant guest chairs and have a seat. The applause died down, and Dave began, "Thank you for being here, Sarah! I must say, you're an absolutely lovely woman." Numerous members of the audience voiced their agreement. "Sarah is the centerfold in the current issue of what magazine is it?" he asked, picking up an issue from his desk and studying its cover.
"Extreme Curves," Sarah said.
Amid some hooting and whistling, Dave commented aside, "I'll say!" He stood the magazine upright, facing outward, waiting for one of the cameras to focus on it for a tight shot. The director briefly cut to a close-up of Sarah's Extreme Curves cover photo. "You're obviously an extraordinarily buxom woman," Letterman commented, provoking more audience reaction. "Now, I read your article here very thoroughly," he continued, casting a comic glance at the camera, "and according to this magazine, you're actually still developing?"
"That's right. They just keep getting bigger and bigger!" she replied primly.
"And you're not fooling around about it, either," Dave affirmed. "This is borne out if you compare your picture on the magazine cover to the way you look now. How much time has gone by since this photo was taken?"
"Oh, about two or three months, I think."
"Really?! In that short amount of time, there's been a noticeable increase in your, uh..." he began awkwardly, gesturing to Sarah's huge bosom.
"Breasts." Sarah finished for him, grinning.
"Thank you; that's the word I was groping for." The audience burst into laughter.
After it had quieted down, she responded, "I was fairly flat chested until last spring when I first noticed that all my bras were getting too small. Turned out that my boobs had started to grow again for some reason."
"Do you have any idea why? Did you see a doctor?"
"My doctor ran some tests, but she couldn't tell me anything."
"What was your reaction when this started?"
"At first it was annoying, having to buy bigger and bigger bras constantly. And then, to add insult to injury, my boyfriend at the time dumped me."
"He what?!" Dave demanded incredulously.
Sarah shrugged. "I guess he wasn't a breast man."
Dave laughed. "No, however the term 'idiot' comes to mind! So how did you end up posing naked for a men's magazine?"
"Well, after my boobs had gotten pretty big, the law firm I worked for let me go because I was causing a disruption, they said."
"They fired you?" he asked incredulously, chuckling.
Sarah nodded. "Yeah. They gave me a severance package to keep me from suing them. Then nobody else would hire me either, because of the way I looked. But not long before I lost my job, I had met a photographer who very nicely asked if I'd consider posing nude for him. When I started getting paranoid about my severance money running out, I gave him a call."
"Was that a hard decision to make?"
"Pretty much. But I decided to turn a liability into an asset, and let my figure work for me instead of against me. Besides, by this time I was starting to enjoy being so busty, and posing in the nude intrigued me."
"I was intrigued as well," Dave confessed with a straight face, momentarily peeking inside the pages of the magazine. Sarah and the audience laughed. "So, they're still getting bigger?"
"Haven't stopped so far," Sarah confirmed, drawing a few whoops of approval from the studio audience.
"I imagine that must present a few problems, as far and your daily life is concerned, doesn't it? Things like not being able to see to put on your shoes." The crowd laughed. "Seriously!" the host asserted.
"Oh, you're absolutely right, Dave! The size of my breasts effects a lot of every day activities. For example, I can't just go to Wal-Mart and buy a blouse off the rack: most everything I wear up top has to be custom-made. Fortunately, I'm not too bad a seamstress, so I'm able to make or alter a lot of my clothes myself. I made this outfit, in fact," she said, looking down and giving the bottom hem of her jacket a tug.
"You do very good work," Dave observed, gawking at her big bust.
"Well, I cut the neck of this dress a little lower than I'd intended," she confessed, using her finger to describe a deep line across her jacket.
"Gee, that's a shame. By the way, does it seem warm in here to you, Sarah?" Dave commented with an impish expression. "You know, if you get too hot, please feel free to take your jacket off."
"They told me to keep this on and button it all the way up before I came out, because there was too much cleavage showing otherwise."
"Yeah? Well, I'll make sure those people lose their jobs. Now, be a sport and take the stupid jacket off!" he pleaded shamelessly.
"Seriously? Would that be okay?" Sarah asked.
"You're darn right it'll be okay!" Dave answered emphatically, lightly hitting his fist on the desk. The crowd gleefully applauded the idea.
"If you say so," she said with a grin, moving her fingers to the top button.
Sarah began undoing the top buttons of her jacket, accompanied by a roll on the snare drum. After the last button had finally been unfastened, the drummer hit his crash cymbal and the band played a fanfare as she removed her jacket and set it on the seat beside her. There were murmurs of awe amidst the hooting and whistling that ensued.
The neckline of Sarah' s dress was indeed very deeply cut, revealing a remarkable tract of cleavage. Dave tossed a pencil over his shoulder followed by the sound effect of breaking glass as it flew through the empty window frame in the set behind him. "Can we get a close-up of this, Hal?" he asked mischievously, looking offstage. Sarah grinned and cooperatively thrust out her huge breasts for the camera, and in a second or two, the screen was suddenly filled with the image of Sarah's enormous bosom. "Yeah!" Dave exclaimed enthusiastically. "Now that's television!" The audience half laughed, half applauded. "We're going to take a break, and we'll be back with more vistas of the Grand Canyon, after these messages..."
Johnny shook his head and smiled. "That sweet little gal sure has one hell of a rack," he murmured to himself as he rose from his recliner and headed outside for a joint during commercials.
Jimmy had the sound turned down low to keep from alerting his parents. He got off his bed and removed his underwear, hiding the garment under his mattress, and then put on a clean pair from his dresser drawer. Before lying back down, he checked his VCR to be sure it was still recording.
The commercials finally ended, and as the set of the Letterman show faded up from black again, Paul and the band closed out a ripping rendition of the Four Seasons' 'Big Girls Don't Cry'. Sarah and Dave suspended chatting with each other as the camera dollied in.
"Paul Shaffer and the Orchestra! Thank you!" Dave waited as the applause subsided, and then continued, "We're back with the lovely Sarah Covington, ladies and gentlemen... We have some video we'd like to show our viewers and the studio audience, now. Sarah was kind enough to allow us to take our cameras to her day job earlier this afternoon, where she works to supplement the meager income she earns as an international sex star. Hal, can we roll that, please?"
The image of Letterman and his guest dissolved to a busy Manhattan street scene where taxis dominated the thoroughfares and people of all descriptions hurried in every direction. A section of pavement had been cordoned off where street repairs were being made. As the hand-held camera moved up behind a small group of onlookers, the sound of jackhammers rose above the traffic noise. The camera nudged its way through the crowd, and focused on one of the jackhammer operators.
He was a stocky man, wearing jeans and a dirty white tee shirt. His fat belly hung over the handles of the hammer and shook like a tub of gelatin as the tool pounded the pavement to rubble. The camera then slowly panned to a second jackhammer, and the audience laughed and cheered when they saw that the person operating the hammer was Sarah! She too was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, complete with a hard hat and a pack of cigarettes tucked into her sleeve. It was conspicuously obvious that she wasn't wearing a brassiere under the shirt: her enormous breasts lolled atop the handles of her air hammer, vibrating heavily in much the same way as the belly of the male operator. The audience guffawed and applauded as they watched her tremendous bosom jiggle perforce.
Sarah was playing the part to the hilt, with a cigarette hanging from her bottom lip and a look of cool detachment as she worked. In the crowd of spectators, a young Hispanic man was carrying on a one-sided conversation with Sarah, discussing her profound figure in rude but glowing terms, much of which had to be censored.
The band played a segue as the clip ended and the set of the Letterman show returned to the screen. "Thank you, folks," the host called over the audience's appreciative response. And thank you, Sarah, for being a great sport. Now, you were telling me during the break that you'll be appearing in every issue of Extreme Curves for the next year?"
"That's right the magazine will be featuring a new pictorial of me each month, and we'll be keeping track of my development over that time."
"And you won't be the only one. Sarah, thank you for being here; you're a lovely, lovely woman!"
"Thank you, Dave," she replied with a warm smile.
"Before Sarah leaves," Letterman said, turning to the camera, "she's going to help us read tonight's Top Ten list: the top ten alternative uses for Sarah Covington's brassiere!"
The audience applauded enthusiastically as the Top Ten opening rolled, accompanied by fanfare from the band. The camera closed in on Sarah as the video intro finished.
"The number ten alternative use for my bra," she announced, reading from a card she held in her hand, "dredging silt from the bottom of New York Harbor. Number nine..."
The next day, newspapers and web sites ran human-interest stories on the balloon-breasted model that had appeared on the Letterman show the night before. Naturally, every account was accompanied by a still shot taken from the program, showing Sarah's spectacular endowment. Her site saw a significant increase in traffic and membership as a result of the interest generated by the appearance, and her outrageously huge breasts began to make an impression on the public consciousness. When people made jokes about big boobs, they began invoking Sarah's name instead of Dolly Parton's as their icon of supreme female development.
A splinter group of leg-men even arose and formed their own fan club devoted to her. They offered bumper stickers that proclaimed, "SARAH GOT LEGS!"
Miriam shook with laughter as she looked down in amazement and fingered her blouse, examining the place where a button had been.
Her friend Pam was laughing too, and was fanning her face with one hand. "Mim, I'd never have pulled that on you if I'd known how drastic it was going to be!" Both women lapsed back into renewed convulsions of laughter, until finally Pam was able to continue, "When Alan did it to me, I didn't get anything like that!"
Mim sighed gleefully and suddenly her face brightened. "I'll have to try this on my friend Sarah!"
It was Girl's Night again for Sarah and Miriam, and they had rented a chick flick for the evening. They sat watching the television, sipping wine and munching on snacks until it was time for a bathroom break. Being Sarah's guest, Mim took her turn first.
Sarah went after that, and when she returned, Mim was looking as innocent as she possibly could. Sarah sat back down on the couch with her friend, and took a sip of her wine before aiming the remote at the DVD player.
After a while, she noticed that Miriam seemed to be more interested in watching her than in watching the movie. This was very odd, and Sarah had just about decided to ask Mim what was going on, when she suddenly began feeling a little dizzy. Her breasts were also starting to feel very warm.
"Mim? Something's happening to me!"
"I'm sure you're fine, dear," she answered, starting to have doubts about the wisdom of such a prank.
"My boobs are so tight!" she whined, clutching them. "They feel like they're getting bigger I mean really fast all of a sudden!" The worried look on her face tugged at Mim's heart.
"Don't worry, Sarah!" she said comfortingly, feeling pangs of guilt as she took her friend's hand. "I'm so sorry! It was just a stupid practical joke. I thought..."
"Mim!" Sarah interrupted, looking down incredulously at her bulging bust. "They're definitely bigger! They're what did you say?"
"I said it's just a joke!"
"This is not a joke, Mim it's really happening!" Sarah released her grasp on her bosom and thrust it out toward her friend, saying, "See this?" Sarah's boobs always looked unbelievably big, but now they were noticeably larger than they'd been just minutes ago, severely taxing her blouse's integrity.
"I'm trying to tell you that the reason this is happening is because I put something in your drink!" Mim forcefully confessed. The words made her ashamed at having taken such a liberty. "It's only temporary! It'll wear off in about 20 minutes!"
"What? What?"
"I gave you an herbal extract that causes body fluid to accumulate in your breasts!"
Sarah gawked at her friend for a moment, absorbing the meaning of Mim's strange words. In a few seconds she asked, "I'm gonna be okay, then?"
"Sweetie, you are okay! I'm such an idiot!"
Sarah relaxed a little, but still kept watching her huge boobs, throbbing visibly as they continued to expand. The front of her blouse was stretched tightly across her chest, until suddenly, with a soft snap, one of her buttons popped off and dropped silently to the carpet. Then, like dominoes falling, three or four more buttons failed in rapid succession, and Sarah enormous breasts slid lazily through the gap and out into the open. The top button and a number of lower buttons of her blouse remained fastened, framing Sarah's burgeoning mammaries.
"So, this is some kind of drug?" Sarah asked at last, regaining some of her composure.
"No, it's an extract from a combination of herbs."
"Oh, yeah. You said."
"It's a new thing that came from China or Korea, depending on what story you hear. They call it Balloon Ride, and it's been a craze over there for several months. Men are giving it their wives and girlfriends for a thrill, women slip it to their friends as a joke, like I just did to you. I'm so sorry; someone did the same thing to me, but the effect wasn't this strong. I've even heard of people slipping it to perfect strangers in public just for a laugh. The thing is, most women only grow a cup size or two."
"Well, I'm way past that! Good grief look at me!" Sarah stood shakily and removed her ruined blouse. What had merely been extremely large was now shockingly enormous. Her tremendous naked breasts were so swollen that they gleamed tight as a drum, proudly standing out from her chest, fat and bulbous. By the time they finally stopped expanding, they'd attained a magnitude of about twice their original size!
"I think they're finished growing," she said at last, tentatively embracing her giant breasts.
"Are you mad at me?" Mim asked with a pleading expression.
There was a half-second pause before Sarah answered, "No, I'm not mad at you. But you're right, this was a really dumb idea."
"I'm sorry," her friend said again, shaking her head.
"You're forgiven, hon. Don't worry about it, I'm fine. Walk with me into the bedroom; I want to look in the mirror, but I feel like I'm about to fall forward.
"You look like it too," Mim commented. She escorted her friend into the bedroom where they both stood gazing at Sarah's outrageously bosomy reflection.
"I wonder if my boobs will ever get this big naturally," she pondered, turning from side to side. "I'm bustier than almost all of the morphs I've ever seen of myself! Hey! We need to take pictures and get some video! Let's go to the backdrop, Mim."
Sarah removed her jeans and panties, and Miriam helped her mammary-laden friend maneuver into the bedroom where the digital video camera was set up, trained on a gray muslin backdrop.
"Okay, get ready," Mim called, peering through the camera's viewfinder.
Sarah struck a pose and thrust out her chest. "How's this?"
"Damn, girl! That's some big pair of titties you got!" The camera clicked.
"You're not kidding!" Sarah agreed, hefting them in her hands. After a few more photos, she declared, "Hey after this wears off, I want to take another dose, and capture the growth on video, too! Got any of that stuff left?"
"Well, yeah there's still plenty left in your glass. Are you sure you want to do that, though? I mean, the skin of your boobs is really stretched out right now! I'm afraid they'll be all saggy afterward, not nice and plump anymore."
"We'll see how I look after the swelling goes away. I think they'll be fine, though I always rub plenty of cocoa butter into them every day to prevent stretch marks, since they're growing so fast. It keeps my skin nice and supple. Help me over to my computer, hon, so I can download these pictures to my hard drive before we do any video. I'm starting to feel a little steadier on my feet, but I could still use some support," she said, taking a few steps with her arms held out for balance. Mim walked her to the nook where her computer was set up. When Sarah leaned over to type in a command, she failed to take into account the increased size of her breasts, and they came crashing onto the keyboard. "Great," she muttered.
She corrected the chaotic results of those random keystrokes, and then proceeded to launch the video software. After setting it up to feed directly to the computer, bypassing the camcorder's on-board memory, she initiated the recording sequence and walked to the set with Mim's assistance. As soon as Sarah was in front of the camera, she began playing with her radically enlarged breasts. They were extremely heavy, and it took a moment for her to become accustomed to handling the extra weight as she lifted them, kneaded them, and pushed them about.
As Miriam watched, she shook her head in amazement at the enormity her friend's mammaries had attained. She walked over to the computer and gazed at Sarah's extravagantly mammiferous image on the screen, and quietly muttered, "The boys are gonna eat this up!"
Eventually Sarah ceased her autoerotic behavior and called to Mim, "Okay, would you hit 'return' please?"
Mim did so, and the video window filled with static.
Sarah's immense breasts dipped and wobbled gravidly as she carefully stepped across the floor to her computer desk. "How long did you say it takes for this stuff to wear off?"
"About twenty minutes."
Sarah saved the video clip to a file. "Well then, let's go back to watching our movie. First, I've gotta get some water I'm so thirsty!"
"Yeah, that's the Balloon Ride."
"What?"
"The herbs. After your body pumps all that fluid into your boobs, it leaves you really thirsty," Miriam explained. "Go get yourself a drink of water while I pour you a fresh glass of wine."
Soon, they were once again immersed in their movie. They'd moved from the couch and were now sitting on the floor, surrounded by bowls of snacks and their drinking glasses. Sarah owned no article of clothing large enough to fit over her super-expanded bosom, so she sat with her legs spread wide, straddling her gigantic naked breasts where they rested on the carpet. She'd placed a small bowl of corn chips on top of one immense gland, using it as a platform for convenient munching as they watched the film.
"Actually," she commented during a lull in the plot, "this is pretty cool!"
"What is?"
"My boobs being this humongous. I like it!" she admitted, patting their broad flanks.
Mim turned her gaze to her friend's outrageous buxomness. "They're so darn big!" she declared, incredulous. "You make me feel flat chested!"
After several minutes, Sarah's breasts began to slowly diminish. The feeling of tightness went away as Sarah's bosom returned to its previous size. The movie kept their attention for the rest of its duration, until the ending credits were rolling.
"What do you think?" Sarah asked, thrusting out her bare chest. Are they back to normal yet?"
"Back to normal? Hell, no! But I think they are back to the size they were before."
"Yeah. Maybe a tad bigger, it's hard to tell."
"They kept their shape, too. I guess it's a good thing you've been using that cocoa butter!"
"So, let's make some video!"
Sarah stood facing the camera wearing a pair of panties and a camisole with no bra, and raised the wineglass to her lips, draining all of its herbally fortified contents. Mim was seated at the computer, ready to start recording at Sarah's command as soon as the concoction started taking effect.
After waiting a while, the sensation of warmth began returning to her breasts, and she signaled her friend. This time, they'd plugged in a microphone to record Sarah's running commentary as the transformation took place.
"A few minutes ago," she narrated, "I ingested a dose of the herbal mix known as Balloon Ride, which will induce a dramatic temporary growth in my breasts beginning at any time. I'm just starting to feel it go to work, so my assistant is going to take my bust measurement now, before they really start growing."
Mim nervously stepped into the camera's frame and did her best to wrap the tape around the fullest part of her friend's bosom, trying not to interject herself between the camera and its subject. Sarah had chosen the silky camisole because it had become a little too tight in the bust lately, so she didn't mind if it got ruined: in fact, she was hoping for that.
As Mim labored, Sarah continued, "From what I understand, Balloon Ride seems to have a stronger effect on bustier women. In other words, the bigger your boobs, the bigger they'll become when you take this stuff! I'm told that a girl with an average bust can expect to gain one or two cup sizes. Larger breasted women may grow three or four cup sizes. Now, a big girl like me I wear about an U-cup at the moment well, I took some earlier this evening, and my boobs swelled up to about twice the size they are now! You got my measurement yet, hon?"
Mim cleared her throat and said, "Yes, it's 57 inches! Hold this and I'll zoom in."
Sarah grasped the tape and held it in place while Mim disappeared behind the camera. The picture clumsily closed in on the measuring tape, showing that Sarah's bust indeed measured just over 57 inches in circumference. After a few seconds, the picture zoomed back out.
Sarah tossed the tape on the floor nearby and continued, "I can feel the skin of my breasts getting really tight now, and the warming sensation has become very strong. Once my boobs start growing good, it'll only take a few minutes to complete. I should mention for anyone who may not know, that this is a temporary enlargement that lasts for about twenty minutes."
She paused in her narrative for a moment, cupping a hand beneath each tit and hefting them to test their weight. The camisole's deeply cut neckline generously displayed an abundant amount of cleavage as Sarah's heavy breasts rose and fell on her chest. Soon, she could tell that her huge bosom had begun to grow even larger.
"Okay, here we go," Sarah declared, letting go of her boobs.
As Sarah's breasts started gradually becoming bigger, they strained resolutely against the camisole's silky material with ever increasing force. Before long her boobs had swelled to such massive proportions that her thin shoulder straps snapped in rapid succession, dangling uselessly from her jutting bust. The extreme pressure of her expansion kept the camisole from falling, however, and in another few seconds, the garment began creaking and popping at its seams. Earlier, Sarah had taken the liberty of making a strategic snip with her scissors at the center of the chemise's neckline to facilitate an easier and more controlled breakaway. Soon her boobs had grown so immense that the poor undergarment burst asunder with a rip, spilling her heavy mammaries onto her tummy with a shudder.
Having already achieved incredible enormity, they kept on growing even beyond the magnitude of Sarah's previous episode, pulsating with each beat of her heart. Her colossal breasts blossomed from her chest profoundly, so heavy and full that they gleamed like overinflated balloons. Sarah's nipples were full blown and popping out boldly from the tips of her gigantic boobs.
"Get me a drink of water please, Mim," Sarah asked as her incredible tits continue to swell. In a moment, Miriam returned from the kitchen with a large glass full of water, and handed it to her. "Thanks, hon," she said, taking it. Sarah drank deeply from the cool water, not stopping until the tumbler was upturned and its contents drained. "Another, please," she requested, handing the glass back to Mim. Her thirst was satisfied only after consuming a total of three large glasses of water.
The video was still "rolling" as Sarah's bosom proceeded to grow bigger and bigger, finally achieving an enormity so astounding that she and Miriam had to gawk at her immense glands in silent awe. They were now so heavy that Sarah was becoming weary of standing upright.
"Mim, I need to rest would you get behind the camera again please, and follow me down so I can set my boobs on the floor?" Mim complied, tilting the camera down as Sarah leaned over and eased her mammoth breasts onto the carpet. Once their weight had settled fully, she knelt down with her knees on either side of her tremendous bosom. "Whew!" she exclaimed, grinning at the camera. "Well, it feels like the swelling might have stopped now, so let's take another measurement."
Miriam locked the camera in position and picked up the tape measure from the floor. It wasn't easy to wrap the tape around such a massive pair of breasts, but after some awkward manipulations, she was finally able to cross one end of the tape over the other at the 102-inch mark.
After Mim had announced the result to the camera, Sarah commented, "You'll notice she's using a 120-inch tape measure a standard 60-inch tape would be way too short! Please keep that tape handy, Mim: in a little bit we'll check and see if I'm still growing." They allowed a minute or two to elapse, and then Mim took another measurement. It still read the same, indicating that this was the maximum girth Sarah's titanic bosom would reach, under the effect of the herbs.
After being helped to her feet, Sarah faced the camera and began playing with her colossal boobs. Though this was mainly for the benefit of the viewer, she was also compelled by her own personal curiosity to test the extreme and unprecedented magnitude that her bosom had attained. Using both arms, she lifted one heavy tit and caressed it deeply, exulting in it phenomenal size. Cradling the gigantic gland in one arm, she began fingering its fat nipple with her free hand until it distended to its maximum. Then she let go of that mammoth tit and began playing with her other nipple in the same way until they were both popping out.
She lifted both of her tremendous breasts in her arms at the same time and hugged them against her torso, murmuring, "They're really heavy!" After playing with her monstrous boobs a while longer, Sarah then instructed, "Okay, Mim stop the recording and save it. What did I name the first clip?"
"Um 'Ride'. I'll change that to 'Ride_1' and name this one 'Ride_2'."
"Thanks. Wait a minute let's name them in a more logical order instead. This video we just made of my tits growing will be '1', and the first one, where they're already super big we'll call that number '2'."
"Right," agreed Mim, typing on the keyboard.
"I'll have to edit down this last clip for time it's way too long as it is," Sarah muttered as she eased herself back down onto the floor. "Toss me my cell phone, please?" she asked. "It's there on the desk." Mim pitched the phone to Sarah in a lazy arc, and it landed on the carpet beside her. Straddling her insanely immense breasts, she picked up the phone and dialed. "Hey, Owen! Sarah! Can you come over right away? There's something you should see!"
Owen knew that when this woman had some novelty to show him, it was always worth his time.
Mim dialed Sarah's number and then sat back in her chair, absently looking out a window near her desk. She waited as her friend's phone rang, hoping the girl wasn't out or occupied. Finally the line picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, there!"
"Hello, stranger! I haven't heard from you all week! Whatcha been up to?" Sarah asked.
"Let's do lunch, and I'll tell you all about it. Can you meet me at Lindeman's Cafe?"
"Uh, sure! What time?"