Dr Hooters - Pt XXXIX 
by the Road Dog
FAST TIMES IN CENTURY BEACH 


Steve plopped a bronzed leg over the arm of Jeremy's  overstuffed
chair  and  opened  a  magazine.  "So, what kinda computer ya got
now, Jeremy?", he asked.

"An old 486 my dad brought home from the weather center",  Jeremy
replied,  pushing  his long blonde bangs off his forehead.  "They
were gonna trash it.  They're not using anything but Pentiums  or
better these days."

Steve  put the magazine down and wandered over for a closer look.
His ignorance of computers was  almost  total,  but  Jeremy  knew
enough  for  the  both of them.  "Hey!", he shouted, "Where's the
C:> prompt?"

"I'm running Linux", was the calm reply.

"What the fuck's Lie-nux?", Steve asked, genuinely  puzzled.   He
reached inside Jeremy's refrigerator and popped open a beer. That
was the great thing about Jeremy's house; if  you  could  put  up
with the constant computer chatter from Jeremy, it pai d off - he
lived with his divorced father who was never around, and they al-
ways had plenty of beer in the 'fridge.

"Still  drinking  Pauli  Girls,  I see", Steve commented.  Jeremy
clattered away on the keyboard.  "It seems  more  Linux-y  to  be
drinking  a  German beer", Jeremy explained.  "After all, it is a
European operating system."

"Oh, yeah", agreed Steve, who didn't have the slightest clue what
Jeremy was talking about.  "Whatcha doin'?"

Jeremy frowned with concentration.  "Writing a MIDI interface for
this port I picked up off an old ST."

"Huh?"

"MIDI", explained Jeremy.  "It'll let this computer talk  to  all
my  keyboards.   I  can  create all kinds of neat effects, record
dance tracks, drum rhythyms, things like that."

"Oh.  For the band", Steve replied.  Now here  was  something  he
could relate to.  About a week ago, Steve asked Jeremy if he knew
of a good keyboardist to join a band he,  Jack,  Brian,  and  Tom
were  putting  together.  'Tom's the best guitarist in this  part
of the state', he told Jeremy.  'We  need  someone  on  keyboards
that can keep up with him.'

Jeremy volunteered himself.  He had been working on computer- en-
hanced keyboards for some time, salvaging used equipment from his
father's job at the weather center, and what he could hustle from
other tech-heads at his part-time job at the music  store.  Steve
was underwhelmed.

Despite  this faint praise, Jeremy had agreed, and promised Steve
to have something ready for him by next week.   "So,  what  kinda
games do you play on this Lie-nux?", Steve asked.

"Got Doom", Jeremy told him.

"Aah!   I'm  tired a Doom!', Steve replied, running a well-tanned
hand through his rich  shock  of  sun-bleached  hair.   "You  got
Fighting Fists Of Fury?"

Jeremy  clacked  away  at  the  keyboard  some more, then threw a
switch.  A dozen electronic devices sprang to life with a deafen-
ing  hum.   "This isn't a Genesis 32", he scolded.  "I use it for
research, and for attaching to the Internet!"

"The Internet!  Hey!  Cool!", Steve's interest awakened. "Where's
the dirty pictures?"

"Ah  shit", Jeremy swore.  "That shit's gonna be the death of the
Internet.  The only place I can get instant answers  for  all  my
questions  on computer-generated sound and acoustics, and a bunch
a losers wanna shut it down 'cause of a few tit shots."

"Still", he continued,  "I  downloaded  something  last  Thursday
maybe  the  band  can  use."   Jeremy  touched a switch under his
table, and the terminal at Steve's elbow ignited.  Jeremy clacked
at the keyboard, and the screen went blue.

"Wuzzat?", Steve asked, puzzled.

"X  Windows",  replied  Jeremy.   A large window popped up on the
monitor, and the form of a slender young woman with  long  chest-
nut-colored hair falling over her shoulders and back appeared in-
side the window.  She wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Holy shit, Jeremy!", Steve exclaimed, "I didn't know  you  could
do  that  with  a computer!"  He stared at the screen.  The young
woman had her back turned to the viewer, but she was looking over
her  right shoulder, so that you could see her high, arched eye-
brows, dark expressive eyes, high cheekbones, and pouty mouth.

She had her arms lifted over her head,  one  pulling  her  thick,
dark  brown  tresses  back.   Her well-defined back narrowed to a
spectacular waist, which burgeoned out into a firm,  rounded  ass
with  prominent  cheeks,  and divided into smooth, chisled thighs
and calves.  Her right breast, not  large,  but  high  and  well-
shaped, was just visible with its dark areola and nipple.

Steve  pulled  his  breath  in  sharply in appreciation.  "What a
babe, Jeremy!  Got any more like her in there?"

"Wanna see her dance?", Jeremy said calmly.

"Uh, yeah.  Of course."

Jeremy pulled a keyboard out from behind his computer, attached a
cable  to  the  newly  added MIDI port, switched it on, and began
fingering a catchy little snippet of a song.  The figure  on  the
computer screen pirouetted, turning her front towards the viewer,
and began to move in time to the music.  Now Steve could see  her
proud  little egg-shaped tits, and her dark bush, as she strutted
back and forth on the screen in time to the music.

"Hot damn!", Steve shouted.  "This is great!  Did you do this?"

"Not the actual programming, Steve", Jeremy replied.  "I just put
a  few  pieces  together,  out  of the box so to speak.  The only
thing I added was the MIDI interface."

"Too bad she doesn't have any  tits",  Steve  commented.   "Other
than that, she's just perfect!"

"Try  moving  that  little  white ball over there to your right",
Jeremy instructed.

Steve rolled his hand over the ball, and to his astonishment  and
delight, the girl on the screen blossomed with new breast tissue.
As he moved the ball in a clockwise direction, the girl's breasts
swelled  and  grew,  covering  her  chest, her rib cage, final ly
hanging to her navel, then her waist.  Amazingly,  the  shadowing
changed  as well, so that the effect was one of stunning realism.

"Can I make them as big as I want?", Steve asked as he rolled the
ball  yet  further, dropping the young woman's breasts to the top
of her thighs.

"There is a limit", answered Jeremy.  "The effect  stops  halfway
between  her  knees and her ankles.  I think the programmer real-
ized that this would be sort of an upper limit to the human abil-
ity to stand upright."

Steve  pushed  the ball again.  Sure enough, the girl grew out to
the prescribed limit and no further, no matter how hard  he  mas-
saged the ball.  Nevertheless, her breasts had changed from perky
to ponderous- great, massive mounds of flesh  they  would  hav  e
been  in  real life.  Steve moved the ball in a counter clockwise
direction, and the girl's  breasts  returned  to  their  original
size.

"God!  This kinda turns me on!", he remarked, stroking his crotch
through the cutoffs.

"Just don't jizz on the keyboard, Steve", Jeremy warned.   Steve,
though,  was  entranced.   he  repeated  the cycle several times,
growing and shrinking the girl's breasts at various rates.   "You
know  what would be great?", he remarked.  "If you could put some
clothes on her, and watch her grow right out through 'em!"

Jeremy reached over and hit several  keys  on  Steve's  keyboard.
"There!  Now she can't dance anymore, but she'll do just what you
said."

The young girl was dressed in a pair of tight blue  jeans  and  a
white  shirt  buttoned down the front.  Steve hit the button, and
watched entranced as stress lines began to form on the  front  of
the  girl's  shirt,  gaps  opened  between  her buttons, the gaps
widened, and finally, her breasts exploded out of the shirt, rip-
ping through the buttons tearing the seams.

Steve  was  elated.   "I've  never  seen anything like this!", he
shouted.  Jeremy showed him the key sequence  to  re-clothe  her,
then Steve repeated the performance several times.

"You  like  that?",  Jeremy asked him.  "Hey, there's more.  Ever
hear of Dr Enlarge?  He's written almost ten or  fifteen  stories
about  girls'  tits enlarging.  Here!"  He touched another button
on his keyboard, and a printer began spitting paper onto  Steve's
lap.

Steve  scooped  up  the paper and began reading.  Before long, he
was transported into a semi-magical realm  where  girls'  breasts
swelled to unimaginable proportions, much to the delight of their
husbands and boyfriends.  "God",  he  mumbled,  "I  wish  Karen's
would do that!"

"I  never  had you picked for a big-tit man, Steve", Jeremy said.
"Karen can't be any bigger than a B-cup, at best."

"Well, tits usually come attached to a  girl",  Steve  commented.
"Karen's  got  a  34-A,  but  at five-seven and a hundred fifteen
even, she doesn't really need any more.  It  doesn't  matter  how
much  you  like  the tits if the rest of the girl doesn't do any-
thing for you, and you'd be surprised how fond you can get  of  a
pair of tits if you like the girl that comes along with 'em."

"That's  pretty  deep for a twenty-three-year old bass player and
beach bum", Jeremy said.

"I have my moments, buck-o", affirmed  Steve,  returning  to  the
growing mound of literature in his lap.

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

Watching  Karen  descend the stairs from the Science Hall at Fla-
gler Community College was one of Steve's favorite pastimes,  and
he  was  glad  she  elected  to take the class this summer.  On a
good, windy day, her flawless legs were admirably displayed.

And today was one of the windiest.   Karen's  thigh-length  skirt
threatened  to  blow  up  around her waist, and flash-flash-flash
went her yellow panties as she struggled desperately with  books,
hair, and skirt.

Steve dashed out to help her.  The wind was really picking up. He
ran up the steps and grabbed  Karen's  books  out  of  her  arms.
Smiling bravely, she reached down and pulled the hem of her skirt
into place.  She gave him a small kiss on the cheek.     "Thanks,
Sir Gallant Knight", she joked.  "How long did it take you to de-
cide to come to my rescue?"

Steve grinned.  "When I saw you decided  to  wear  yellow  today,
Kin-kin",  he  teased  her, using the name her baby brother Aaron
called her by.

"But I'm not wearing yellow  today...",  she  began  to  protest.
Then,  as Steve's import sank in, she walloped him from the side.
"You pervert!!", she shouted jokingly.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about, Kin-kin.   Old  Dr.
Evans  there,  I  think you could have given him a heart attack",
Steve cautioned as he held the door of the Volvo open for  Karen.

Inside  the  Volvo  and safe from the rising wind, Karen smoothed
her skirt across her peerless legs.  She smiled as Steve  climbed
in beside her.

"How's  about full payment for the rescue?", he demanded.  Laugh-
ing, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed  him  passion-
ately, full on the lips.  After about a half a minute, the two of
them came up for air.

Steve started the car.  "So.  How was Biology today?", he  asked.

Fumbling  around  in her purse for her brush, Karen found it, and
began pulling the tangles out of her long blonde tresses.  "OK, I
guess",  she  replied.  "Dr Evans was going on and on today about
stamens and pollen, and I don't see what any of this  has  to  do
with my becoming a nurse."

"And  what  did  you  do  today,  Mr Scholar?", Karen asked.  She
looked over at him and smiled, her clear  blue  eyes  glittering.
Steve  swallowed hard.  If he told her the truth, she'd be on him
for wasting the day with Jeremy.  If he  lied,  she'd  eventually
find out...

"I,  uh,  went  over to Jeremy's and we hung out for a while", he
confessed.

Karen's blue eyes flashed quickly with anger.  "Jeremy Preston!",
she  snorted.   "If ever there was a case of wasted talent, there
it goes!"

"Hey, Kin-kin", Steve protested.  "You've got Jeremy  all  wrong.
He's a genius!  We're lucky to have him in the band."

Karen  wasn't  buying it.  She crossed one long, well-muscled leg
over the other and balled her hands into fists.  "Some  genius!",
she  hissed.   "A  genius  of perversion!  A sick genius!  Do you
know what he did with that picture of me with  the  other  cheer-
leaders in my high school yearbook?"

"The one he scanned and, uh, doctored up?"

"Do  you  know what he did with that?  He made me look like I had
breasts like a cow!  He did the same to Chrissy, to Courtney,  to
Sue-Kim,  and  to Keesha.  Then he had the ***balls*** to post it
on the Internet, with **our** phone numbers right underneath.   I
got calls for months after that!"

The  photo  she  was talking about was one of Steve's most prized
possessions.  Last year, when Karen was still a Senior at Flagler
High, Jeremy had scanned in one of the pictures of the cheerlead-
ing squad into  his  computer.   Then,  using  some  high-quality
graphics  program, he had made it appear as if all the cheerlead-
eers were busting out of their sweaters.

It was hilarious, of course.   All  the  girls  Karen  mentioned;
Chrissy Simmons, Courtney Penrose, Susan Kim, and Keesha Sanders,
were pathologically flat-chested, as was Karen herself, but Jere-
my had made them all look as chesty as porno stars.

"Jeremy  almost  had  to go to court for that!", Steve protested,
pushing his own lanky sun-bleached bangs out of his  eyes  as  he
turned  right onto the beach road.  "If the school had been keep-
ing better records..."

"Well, it taught him a lesson.  I'm glad!"  Karen seemed  willing
to  drop  the  subject.  "What were the two of you doing, then?",
she asked.  "Probably reading pornography off his computer!"

Steve blushed slightly, remembering the stories Jeremy had print-
ed  out for him.  Wow, they were great!  He remembered one, where
a college guy gave one of his girlfriends a pack  of  mints,  and
her  breasts  exploded until they were the size of her dorm room.
He looked over at Karen's modest endowments and wondered...   No,
he thought.  Just a silly story.

The  beach swung into view as Steve wheeled around a corner.  Due
to the approaching storm, it was almost deserted.  A family  with
small  children was packing their car to leave, and Steve saw one
or two brave surfers still wading through the swells, looking for
rideable waves.

"So,  did  Mr.  Genius say when the hurricane was going to hit?",
taunted Karen.

"'S'not a hurricane, Kin-kin", replied Steve.  "Its just a tropi-
cal storm.  50 mph winds, and thats just in gusts."  He pulled up
in front of the cottage Karen was sharing for the summer with all
the  other  girls.  Steve wondered why, if Karen objected so vio-
lently to Jeremy, she moved in next door to him.

A stray gust of wind blew a  garbage  bag  across  Steve's  wind-
shield.   He opened the door and let Karen out.  Immediately, the
wind pressed her skirt and her blouse hard against her, outlining
her  slim,  athletic body.  Steve looked her over.  Not wearing a
bra today either, he thought  as  he  ogled  her  barely-jiggling
bite-sized mounds.

As  a  breast  man, Steve found it hard to explain his attraction
for Karen Pollock, ex-cheerleader  and  future  nurse.   She  was
about  five-seven,  one hundred fifteen pounds, tall and slender.
Her athletic pursuits, aerobics, cycling, and weightlifting, left
her  toned  and trim.  Hours at the beach had tanned her a golden
brown.

Karen's legs were legendary.   Long,  slender,  and  well-formed,
they  had already appeared in a couple of local shoe shop commer-
cials on television, and now, with the wind whipping her skirt up
around  her  firm, shapely thighs, Steve could see why the panty-
hose people were starting to sniff around, starting to  make  in-
quiries about her.

All-American  girl,  he  thought,  Florida-style.   And she's all
mine.  Karen leaned into him and kissed him deeply,  passing  her
tongue  into  his  mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck,
pulling him to her.

They kissed for a while, then Karen turned  and  bounced  up  the
steps  into  the cottage. "See you Wednesday, Stevie honey!  Pick
me up at eight, OK?"  Steve  waved  and  grunted,  and  the  door
closed behind her.  Looking up to the top story, Steve saw Court-
ney in one of the windows.  She smiled and waved at him as  well.

Steve smiled to himself as he turned away and stared out over the
ocean.  The waves were growing in volume and height, smashing fe-
rociously against the shore, and the clouds were coming in thick-
er than before.  All these babes in one house, he thought, and  I
got the finest one of all.
































