DR. HOOTERS - Part XIX
by Servax
Love Comes To The Amazon

Marsha  got a postcard from Sherry in North Carolina.  She turned
it over.  What a beautiful spot to spend the summer, she thought.
Sherry  said  she  was busy, making lots of new friends, that she
missed Marsha 'mucho, mucho, mucho'.  No mention of any  changes.

Marsha  got  a  sheet  of  stationery  out,  and a pen.  God, she
thought, this paper is so tiny! Its like writing on a cash regis-
ter receipt.  She crumpled up the letter paper and pulled a sheet
out of her school notebook.  Grabbing the pen like it was a cray-
on, she began to write:

-Querida del alma (beso) (beso) (beso)

-Hola, chica!

-I  can't  believe  its  only  been  a  month and a half since my
quince! You -wouldn't believe the changes around here.  Well, ac-
tually,  the  changes  in me.   You won't believe it, but I've re
ally been putting on weight.  No kidding!  I weigh over four hun-
dred pounds now, but everybody says I look just great!

-I ought to tell you, I'm eight feet four inches tall.  Yeah, re-
ally.  I'm  sure it has something to do with Amanda.  I told Mom,
and  she's  been  real  cool about it.  I don't fit in my bedroom
anymore, so when you come back,  we'll have to hang  out  in  the
living room, which is where I'm living now.

-You  didn't  mention  anything  about anything happening to you.
Did you grow any tits?  Mine are just huge now.  I love it.   You
should  see  'em.  They  grew faster than the rest of me, and Mom
says that if they grow any more,  she'll have  to  bust  out  the
windows to make room for 'em.  I'm sending a  picture, so you can
see for yourself.  That's all me in the picture, too.

-Do you have a VCR? If you do, you can  see  me  on  'Sabado  Gi-
gante'.  Mom taped it.  Its a hoot.  Don Francisco barely came up
to my belly button, and he  never stopped staring at my tits  all
the  time he was interviewing me.  The  models were a pain in the
ass.  They were so jealous, they kept dropping  things all around
me  to  distract  me.  I can't really blame them.  Don  Francisco
made a lot of jokes about my tits.  I think he  hires  all  those
skinny  flat-chested   models so  he can  humiliate them publicly.
I wouldn't take the job, thank you.

-Anyway, there's really only two things wrong with 'the new  me'.
First  of  all,  I haven't had a date since my quince.  Even your
brother Marty hasn't called.  I think he's probably still waiting
for Amanda to show up.  I think guys are scared of me.

-The  other problem is that I am hungry all the time.  Mom says I
eat like a house burning down.   Its not my fault,  though.   Its
just  that  now that I'm so  big, everything else looks so small.
A chicken looks like a Rock Cornish,  and fills me  up  about  as
much.   Mom  says its a good thing were making so much  money, or
she couldn't afford to feed me!

-Other than that, its great being this size.   I  can  do  pretty
much whatever I want, and no one gives me any shit.  I'm stronger
than hell.  Even though I  don't really look muscle-bound or  any
thing, I can lift the front of a car right off the ground!

-When  you get back this fall, maybe we'll try out for cheerlead-
ers together.

-Couldn't you see me as an eight-foot  cheerleader?  I  love  it!
Maybe  I'll   just  try out for the football team.  If they could
get a set of pads to fit  around my tits, I think I'd be great at
blocking kicks!

-Lots of love (beso) (beso) (beso)

-Tu Marsha

*************************


Marsha's two problems were solved the same week.

When  she  arrived at the warehouse one morning, she saw that her
Mom had hired a new guy.  He  wasn't  a  Guatemalan  or  anything
weird.  He had sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a wide grin.  He
stared at Marsha openly and frankly, but she could sense that  he
wasn't looking at her as a freak or a monster.

No, with her inerrant Latina instinct, she knew he was looking at
her as an attractive, desirable girl.  She blushed a little,  and
smiled back.

"Hi",  she  said,  sitting  on  the dock beside him.  Seated, her
height wasn't as overwhelming.

"Well, hi, big  gorgeous!",  the  guy  replied.   Marsha  flushed
again, and dropped her eyes.  This was insane! Was she gonna fall
for this guy?

"My name's Matt!", the guy continued, not noticing Marsha's  dis-
comfort.  "I go to school up in Gainesville.  You must be Marsha.
" He was grinning widely, and he was obviously delighted to  meet
her.   Marsha was almost completely undone.  This guy was so con-
fident, she couldn't believe it.  She looked him over.  He wasn't
small.   He  looked  to  be about six -five or six-six, and well-
built, with a slim,  muscular  build.   He  was  dressed  like  a
surfer,  with  a tank-top, baggies, and a visor.  He wasn't hand-
some.  He had a cracked tooth in his mouth, but he wasn't at  all
afraid of her, and he looked like the kind of guy who was used to
getting what he wanted from girls.

Marsha extended her hand.  Matt took it in his own.  She  noticed
he had large, strong hands.  They shook hands.  "How did you know
my name?", she asked.  "Hell, the whole street was talking  about
you when I came down yesterday to fill out the application. ", he
replied.

"You speak Spanish?" The whole area around the warehouse was  en-
tirely  Spanish  territory.  Marsha doubted that there any native
English-speakers for forty blocks around.

"Enough", Matt replied, "but I  prefer  to  speak  English.   You
speak  it  pretty  well.  " Marsha laughed, tossing back her wild
mane of dark hair.  "I was born here! Mom and Papi came over from
Cuba  in the 'sixties.  They met and married here.  I'm a hundred
percent American!"

"And a hundred percent gorgeous", Matt added shamelessly.

"You don't think I'm, well, too big?", Marsha asked.  It was  the
first  time  she  had  the  chance to ask a good-looking boy this
question, and she needed to know the answer.

"You're just the right size, for you", Matt  answered.   "If  you
were  hideous, yeah, I'd say you were too big, but honestly", and
he looked at her as openly and sincerely as a newborn child,  "as
beautiful  as  you  are,  you  could  be  twice  your size, and I
wouldn't think you were too big.  How can you have too much of  a
good thing?"

Marsha  stood  up  to her full height.  Matt's praise touched her
deeply.  She felt powerful, queenly, and utterly desirable.  Matt
stood  up as well.  She was glad to see he came up to the tops of
her boobs.  At least he could see her cleavage  the  way  it  was
meant to be seen.

She  gathered  her  courage  and  gave  him back some of his own.
"You're quite a guy, Matt, she said, "I think I'm gonna like hav-
ing  you  around. " She opened the warehouse, and started setting
out the palletes.  Matt helped her, and she saw he could hold his
own with her.

Martha  found  out that Matt was twenty years old, a sophomore at
the University of Florida.  He had come to Miami for  the  summer
to  improve  his Spanish, which was his minor subject at the Uni-
versi ty.  He was staying with his grandmother  in  Bal  Halbour.
Most  important,  she discovered he was attracted to Latin girls,
and the taller, the better.

All that day, the other workers noticed the chemistry between the
new  gringo and the boss's enormous daughter, and they made cruel
jokes in Spanish.  Marsha winced at their crudity.   Matt  didn't
let  himself  be  taken  advantage of.  He turned and cursed them
all, and all their female relatives, living and dead, in  fluent,
heavily  accented  Spanish.   The  illegals left them alone after
that.  Matt and Marsha ate lunch together on  the  loading  dock.
Matt  had  a  CD  player, and he played a couple f sides for her,
Nine Inch Nails and the Fields of the Nephilim.  "I like the Goth
stuff  OK",  he  admitted,  "but  I prefer Industrial and Techno.
What about you?"

Marsha had to admit that she didn't know much  about  alternative
music,  but she ran to the car and got out some Willy Chirino and
Juan Miguel Guerra.  As it poured out over Matt's CD player,  she
could  feel  her emotions rising.  She felt like grabbing him and
dancing.

"That's some pretty hot stuff", he admitted.  "You're gonna  have
to take me dancing some day".

Marsha  was elated! There! He had all but asked her out! "Only if
you promise to take me to take me where we can dance to your  mu-
sic too", she replied.

Matt laughed.  "Marsha, you'd make a hell of a Goth! I can't wait
to dress you in black silk and take  you  to  the  clubs.   You'd
scare shit out of all of

Marsha stared at Matt through slitted eyes.  The salsa had turned
her on.  She thrust her enormous breasts out at Matt,  her  quar-
ter-roll-sized  nipples  pushing through the flimsy fabric of her
cotton top.  Her breath was starting to come in little gasps.

"Hey! Big Gorgeous!", Matt warned.  "You gonna rape me  my  first
day on the job?"

Matt's  remark  disarmed her completely.  She dissolved in laugh-
ter.  She grabbed his arm.  Her huge  breasts  shook  like  great
tubs of Jell-O from the force of her laughter.  "Only if you want
me too", she gasped in reply.

"God, who wouldn't want to?", he laughed, "but I gotta  learn  to
walk before I run.  You're a lot more woman than I'm used to, and
I'm used to a lot!"

*********************************

So Marsha acquired a boyfriend.  Matt made good on  his  promise,
and  took  Marsha  to the beach clubs.  She pierced her nose, and
Matt bought her huge silver ring to put into it.  "I'd buy you  a
nipple-ring, Big Gorgeous", he admitted, "but, damn, it'd have to
be the size of a horseshoe, wouldn't it?"

Then, it was Marsha's turn to introduce  Matt  to  Miami's  Latin
night-life.

First, she permed her hair.  It took two stylists the better part
of the day, and cost over 300.  But it was  worth  it.   Marsha's
thick dark hair now looked positively lethal.  She put on a black
mini-dress, the size of a small  tent.   An  average-sized  woman
could  have  walked  around  inside  it,  but on Marsha, it was a
skimpy, feathery, little mid-thigh nothing.  She and Matt hit the
salsa-  dromes.  She even had the balls to wear heels, great fuck
me pumps that boosted her up to just under nine feet(274cm).

For Matt, dancing with Marsha was like dancing with  a  hurricane
or  some  other  primal  natural  force.   She plastered his head
against her beach-ball sized  breasts,  and  rubbed  against  his
chest  with  all  the urgency of her womanhood.  Matt pushed back
against her pulsating crotch.  He could feel  the  volcanic  heat
generating  there.   It wouldn't be long before there was an erup
tion.  His own hard-on was practically exploding with its own  ur
gency.  He rubbed it against Marsha's thigh, just above her knee.
She got the message.

The band struck up a Colombian cumbia, one  of  the  most  openly
sexual  of  all Afro-Latin dances.  Matt could feel the raw sensu
ality in the music, and Marsha began to  dance  with  an  abandon
that  made  her  almost  dangerous.   The  other couples left the
floor, watching from the sidelines as Matt danced alone with  his
titanic  partner.   She  filled  the room with the perfume of her
hair, with the restlessness of her desire.  The salsa  band  coop
erated, becoming more and more animated as Marsha became more and
more frenzied.

It became a duel between Marsha  and  the  band.   The  tempo  in
creased,  the  conga  drums belting out an Afro-Cuban rhythm that
overcame Marsha like hot rum.   She  would  show  her  gringuito.
These  were  her people, this music was like the pulse of her own
blood, unceasing, blatantly sexual.  The floor of the  salsadrome
began  to  shake with the vibrations of Marcia's fevered dancing.
The band increased the tempo yet again.  Marsha matched them, for
ten, fifteen, twenty long minutes.

To  Matt's  credit,  he  was doing a valiant job to keep up.  She
didn't want to wear him out.  She glanced at the band-leader  and
nodded.   He  took  the  band into a final horn coda and stopped.
The salsadrome erupted in applause.  Marsha scooped Matt  up  and
headed  for  the  door.   She set him on the third step and began
kissing him feverishly from the ground, devouring  him  with  her
huge,  hungry  kisses,  and thrusting her famished crotch against
his turgid dick.

"Oh God, Matt, please!  I've  got  to  have  you,  please!",  she
moaned.  "No me niegues.  Don't deny me. "

Denying  Marsha's gargantuan appetites was not even a possibility
for Matt, who was completely undone by  her  performance  in  the
salsadrome.   Before  he  knew  it, he had passed his hands under
Marsha's dress, and was ravishing her mountainous ass, her loins,
her  soft,  pliant,  incredibly large breasts with his hands.  He
moaned with desire, his dick stiffening to  the  point  of  pain.
'Marsha!

Marsha!", he panted, "Marsha, I can't breathe for wanting you. "

Conio, thought the security guard as he watched from the balcony.
That big cubana's gonna fuck that poor American boy to  the  land
of  Holy  Mary.   They decided to consummate their desires in the
warehouse, where, conveniently, there was a big pile of defective
T-shirts  waiting to go into the shredder.  Marsha barely got the
door open when Matt rushed in, and  pulled  her  in  behind  him.
"Papito!", she giggled, "Be patient. "

Matt  wasn't interested in patient.  He grabbed Marsha around her
waist and pulled her to him.  He was, as Marsha admitted, a pret-
ty  strong  guy.   He  pulled her down onto the pile of outs, and
straddled her.  "See, Big Gorgeous", he said, stroking her  hair,
her  cheek,  the immense breasts that thrust out towards him like
two small hills, "Lying down, we're all the same size!" He  tried
to  reach  underneath  Marsha to unbutton her dress, but couldn't
get around her titanic tits.  Marsha smiled and helped  him  out.
Her dress fell off and she lay there in her bra and panties.  She
unhooked her cavernous bra and lay it to one side.   Matt  gasped
at  his  first  glimpse  of Marsha's mighty mams.  They glistened
with the sweat of her desire, and they shook tremulously as  Mar-
sha twisted to get out of her panties.  The nipples were the size
of Vienna sausages, set in areolae the size of tea saucers.

Matt threw himself on her, covering her face, her hair, her neck,
her  giant  breasts with hot, urgent kisses.  He felt Marsha peel
back his shirt like an onion skin, popping all the buttons.   She
reached  one  ham-sized  hand down into his ass and pushed him to
her.  He attempted to undo his pants, but Marsha beat him to  it.
She  ripped  his pants off with the same force with which she had
savaged his shirt.  Now only his boxers. . .

But Marsha had reached around his  back,  and  with  both  hands,
ripped  the  fabric  right  off his loins.  His hard dick shot in
stantly to attention.

"What's that?", Marsha screamed.

"My dick", stated Matt.

"It looks like two dicks".

"This is where I usually lose girlfriends, baby", Matt confessed.
"The  doctors told me I was supposed to be twins, but all the fur
ther I got separated was right here.  See? Its really two  dicks,
joined  at  the  head, and covered by some skin, sort of outer an
wrapping.  Its too thick for most girls.  That's why I  was  hop-
ing. . . "

"Hoping I'd be woman enough to take it inside? You bet, baby.  No
me niegues, querido!"

Matt buried his double dick deep into  Marsha.   With  a  growing
sense of joy he realized, he fit.  Marsha was obviously stimulat-
ed as well, as her passion began to mount and she began  to  roll
under Matt's powerful thrusts.

This  is  where I belong, he thought to himself in that explosion
of certainty that occurs to those fortunate men who, out  of  all
the  women  on the planet, have been able to locate the one woman
who seemed fashioned to accommodate him.  He was bold  enough  to
suggest  that Marsha get on top, and was rewarded by the sight of
her titanic breasts flopping and dangling only  inches  from  his
face,  while  his  double-barreled  cock rejoiced in that special
blend of softness and strength that is a powerful woman's  pussy.

Shortly, they both erupted in a conveniently timed double orgasm.
Matt crawled up and took Marsha's upper body onto his lap and  ca
ressed  her  softly.  Marsha was astounded.  She knew how big and
strong she was, but this man made her feel so feminine,  so  pro-
tected and sheltered.  She adored that, and snuggled against him,
basking in the warm afterglow of her titanic orgasm.

After a while, he spoke.  "We'd better be getting you  home,  Big
Gorgeous!  Your mother would tear me apart if she knew what I did
to you tonight. "

Marsha cuddled against his bare chest.  "I'll tear you  apart  if
you don't do it again.  Soon. "

"Is that a promise?"

*******************************************************************



























