Once in awhile, it would be nice to be able to assume that everyone minds their Ps & Qs when it comes to stories like these. However, this is not the case. This is an erotic story with subject matter that you kiddies shouldn't be reading. Of course, now you'll read it for sure, but I've informed you.

What irritates me most about these types of warnings is that they result in enticing the very behavior that they were intended to prevent. If you're reading this, you're actually one of the responsible people, and probably of legal age. Those who see this and skip by it to get to the story within which they know is contained (by virtue of the warning) probably aren't. How ironic.

In summary, if you shouldn't be reading this, don't. It's as simple as that.

Oh, and one more thing: this is intended to be a fictional representation of two real actresses. If anything in this story is similar to anything real, pat yourself on the back for noticing, and read onward.

Prologue

       Some days, when in observation of the rich and famous, you begin to wonder if they share the fantasies and fetishes in which we who read these stories delight. Given the state of Hollywood today, I wouldn't doubt it. Those who fill the ranks of Hollywood's elite are intelligent, imaginative, innovative, evocative, and just a tad warped, precisely the type of people who would be most well-suited to such fantasies of the night as ours are.

       This is the (probably) fictional story of two celebrity women whose fantasies do coincide with ours, and which do so in surprising (if not altogether unexpected) ways...

Chapter 1: Love & Lopez

"YAWWWWNNNN!!!"

       Jennifer Love Hewitt stretched her lean, lithe body as she awoke from another night's slumber at the sound of her trusty cellphone/alarm clock, raising her arms above her head and breathing in deeply. Her lace nightie strained at her bountiful C-cup breasts as the fabric shifted to reveal a taut tummy. As she stepped onto the frigid floor of her trailer, she tugged at her matching bikini-line panties, and proceeded to begin a brand-new day.

       First, she swiftly detached her phone from its charger and ended its alarm sequence. Next, she scooped up her SideKick^� and dropped both items in her purse. Then, she entered the relatively capacious bathroom (for a trailer), opened her shower's hot water spigot, and turned to the sink to begin brushing her million-dollar smile. When she finished, she looked in the mirror and nearly blinded herself with her own toothy grin. Amused, she stripped off her nightclothes and jumped in the (now-heated) paradise she called her shower.

       To "Love", as she referred to herself and asked others to refer to her, the shower was effortlessly pleasurable. The steam quickly fogged up the glass enclosure, but inside, the heat cleared the senses of Love, even as the rivulets trickled down her hair onto her white buttocks and past her toned thighs. She turned and faced the showerhead, splashing water on her face and down her perky peaks. Her eyes closed, she didn't see the shots of blue goo come out and splatter on her chest. Thinking it was some extra soap, she rubbed the goo in until it was absorbed, and she thought nothing of it, but stopped to marvel at her own breasts.

       There they were, the objects of obsession for countless millions of men across the world. Well-developed, round, and naturally jiggly, they had been on Love since she was but a pre-teen, but she hadn't shown them to anyone but herself, nor did she intend to do so anytime soon. She washed them with great care, making sure to squeeze and feel them both for any tell-tale signs of imperfection. Certainly, she was conscientious, but she took great pleasure in this by teasing her nipples to full arousal, followed by a finger indulgence down below. She released an inadvertent moan as she climaxed.

       The afterglow was short-lived, however, as her stylist entered the trailer at precisely that moment, poking his own professionally-teased head of hair inside the bathroom. Love blushed a little red despite herself, and was thankful that the fog had its obscuring properties.

       "Love! Love! Hurry, hurry, hurry, my dear! We've got no time to waste! I know you prefer to get up in plenty of time for your day, but it couldn't be helped! The newest Hollywood star to join this project has just arrived, and filming will begin as soon as you are ready! Oh dear, you simply must rush! This one's a bit of a diva, if you know what I mean. By that I mean she's a downright bitch, but you get the picture. Sorry to burst in on you!" The stylist slammed the trailer door shut, startling Love, but she composed herself and shut off her morning paradise.

       Curiosity piqued, Love swiftly moved through the rest of her morning routine, joining her stylist and other makeup artists in the makeup trailer, and finally donning her mid-18th-century pioneer's costume. Starting at her head, it was a plain light-blue bonnet, framing her curly-cue brunette frock. Her matching white plaid polyester button-down shirt was covered by denim overalls. In it, she felt she was a distinct relation to Annie Oakley, the female Old West sharpshooter, or, more contemporarily, a brunette Daisy Dukes.

       As Love surveyed the studio lot, she could see preparations were being frantically made. The director, a genius of his craft heretofore to go unnamed, strode purposefully over to Love. He gestured over to the other side of the lot. "You'll find who you're looking for over at the new set where we will be filming today." After Love strode over to the new setpieces, she again looked around. Suddenly, from behind, a voice spoke.

       Jennifer Lopez awoke to the familiar smell of her favorite 100% Columbian coffee. It had been something she had started rather recently, and off which she planned to wean herself eventually, but for now it was something essential to her mornings, especially since she was starting a brand-new film project today. While she detested stereotypes, this role was the stretch of a lifetime, and, additionally, promised to make up for her horrendous failure, Gigli, after which she had not made any significant movies.

       It was still dark as J-Lo sat down for breakfast. Delicious as usual, she absent-mindedly reviewed a few sections of the L.A. Times. On the front page of the Entertainment section was an above-the-fold publicity article about her joining this project. A stock photo of herself graced the top-leftmost corner. She grinned and headed for the shower.

       In her own trailer, J-Lo enjoyed the premium convieniences, and the bathroom was no exception. In fact, it was two rooms. A vanity room that exceeded the size of some bedrooms in regular trailers greeted her, and she passed through the capacious area to her positively regal showering station. Not only was the sink gold-encrusted marble (a particularly flamboyant gesture, she felt), but the shower stall (the exterior of the stall door and walls, at least) as well.

       Once the water was appropriately heated, J-Lo stripped off her velvet bathrobe, undershirt, and thong panties, and stepped into the shower. She twisted around in the enclosure and let the water ride down her back straight down to her million-dollar ass. Suddenly, blue goo shot and landed a direct strike on her buttocks. Thinking it was soap, she massaged her bottom until it gleamed. Damn, she thought. This ass looks mighty good today! I'm on it! She marveled at her booty and shook it like a true Latin dancer. ARRRRRRIBA!!! She hesitated on vocalizing that sentiment, however. Maybe it's the coffee doing its thing, she mused. After she toweled off, she took one more look at her money-maker and, feeling particularly rambunctious, gave it the what-for. S-S-S-S-S-SMACK! She squealed in pleasure, and decided to settle for a little funtime in her "happy place".

       Now, she knew that today was her day to shine, and so she took the fanciest limo that she dared (her trailer following far enough behind not to be seen with the limo). She stepped out of the limo at the lot directly onto red carpet, and why not? She was, after all, J-LO. Her Versace look carried the day, and with a few targeted booty shakes (mostly at the drooling stagehands), the whole studio soon learned who was walking across the lot.

       The director, who had begged J-Lo to be in on the production, was there to greet her as she neared the designated set for filming. It was brand-new, not yet dusted down to become the Old West desert town it would soon portray. "Welcome, welcome!" the director eagerly greeted the mega-star. "We'll begin filming in about 20 minutes, or whenever that other actress...erm, I mean, Jennifer Love Hewitt...gets ready. We are SO excited to have you here. At least, I am. If you could please find our costumer, she has your precisely measured garments ready for you." The director practically ran to find Love, who was just drinking her morning Coca-Cola inside her trailer, curious to discover which mega-star had arrived.

       J-Lo swiftly donned her costume, which was that of a Mexican immigrant farmer--jeans, suspenders, dusty white shirt, straw hat, and work boots. She was to be the protagonist's (Love's) foil, a sort of catalyst for change in Love's character. It was a story of the Old West with a new twist: Pioneer meets Mexican somewhere in a Texas frontier town.

       It wasn't long before "J-Love" began making her way over to J-Lo, but, being in a particularly good mood, J-Lo decided to hide. Once Love arrived at the new set, decked out in her own outfit, she looked around for the newest addition to the cast, and, finding none, put her hands on her hips. Suddenly, from behind, a voice spoke.

       "Hi Jennifer! I'm Jennifer," J-Lo giggled. "Sorry, always wanted to say that. Uh, I know you like to be called Love, so don't worry. J-Lo has the down-low on J-Love."

       "Well, I'll be darned dangnabit!" Love emoted, and grinned. "I'm working on my Old West jargon. Sound good?"

       "It could use some work," J-Lo returned the smile. "Oh, and call me Jenny, sometimes J-Lo drags a little."

       "Sort of like 'Jenny from the block'? That is absolutely one of my favorite songs ever!"

       "Something like that. Let's get started. It's a shame I had to take off all my makeup. You should have seen me in my Versace." Jenny (J-Lo) began surveying the set, looking for the first scene.

       "Very nice," Love began seeing the reason that people thought "Jenny from the block" was letting success get to her head. No matter. Love smiled and followed the diva.

Chapter 2: Accidents Happen

"OK, HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"

       The director was barking out the delineation of a scene step-by-step, this time in above-the-barroom bedroom, and Love was entering in with what she perceived to be a pitcher of water for Jenny.

       "OK, AAAANNNDDD ACTION!!!" Love entered, and, entirely by accident, tripped and sent the pitcher flying, dousing herself and Jenny. Love's hair and front were soaked, as were Jenny's, and Love landed quite serendipitously on Jenny laying on one another on the bed, Jenny having saved Love from sure injury after tripping into the room. Their faces ended up inches apart, their breath mingling, and their wet bosoms and waists smushing against each other. With no undergarments for their breasts, some pleasurable rubbing ensued. Their heartbeats went up, and they observed each other silently. Love looked deep into Jennifer's eyes, and saw something...lovable. She bent down to kiss her, and...

       "CUUUUUT! OK, GREAT MOMENT! EVEN BETTER THAN THE SCRIPT!"

       The director blared and startled Love. "TOUCHING MOMENT WITH CHARACTERS IS NOW FINISHED, LET'S DO THE SCENE FROM HERE! ANNNND ACTION!" She shook her head, cleared her thoughts, and raised off Jennifer, while continuing the scene AS though nothing had stopped, but in the back of her mind...

       Wow, what was that? Love thought. All of a sudden, there was this chemistry...and then...and...

       That was interesting, Jenny considered. I wonder if she's always felt that way.

       "Sorry for spilling the water on you, Rosetta," Love improvised to Jennifer's character. "I must be a bit weak from the heat myself."

       "�Ning�n se preocupa, amigo!" Rosetta/Jenny answered. "I mean, no worries, friend! In this heat, we both need it."

BLAM! BLAM BLAM BLAM! BLAM BLAM! BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!

Suddenly, sounds of bullet shots rang throughout the scene. As rehearsed, both Jenny & Love ran outside the bar to see what was the matter. They only made it as far as the entrance, however, as fake bullets smashed the windows on either side of the door, and both ladies ducked underneath the nearest window ledge.

       Outside, the action was even more furious as the scene called for a contrived shootout in the center of "town", as robbers blazed through the town and Love needed Jenny to help her find a way to fight back as they were caught in the cross-fire. From where they hid inside the now-destroyed bar, a air-compressed cylinder shot smoke through a barrel made to emulate a "rifle" Jenny was "using" to shoot at the "marauders".

       Love looked at Jenny, and was a little confused. They were both perfectly dry. Hadn't they both been wet just a few seconds before? "Hey Jenny," Love whispered "why are we all dry?"

       "Don't know! Can't talk!" Jenny answered, focused on the scene.

Then, it started.

Chapter 3: Here We Grow

       It all started with a soft feeling of arousal. Jenny, focused on the scene, didn't notice a thing. Love, however, was feeling very self-conscious, and very...heavy.

       "Jenny! Hey, Jenny!" Love hissed.

       Jenny kept firing the air cannon, ignoring her. Love was getting exasperated

       "JENNY!"

       "Quiet! Can't you see I'm busy and we're supposed to be acting?"

       "I feel strange. Dizzy and...pleased at the same time."

       "What kind of 'pleased'?"

       "YOU know..."

       Jenny stopped firing as the cameras panned away temporarily. "Oh, Lord, woman! You're speaking to a girl from the Bronx. Are you telling me you're horny?!?" Suddenly, Jenny became extremely cognizant of her own arousal.

"Not only that, but LOOK!" Love pointed.

"Look at yourself!"

       Love's shirt had begun the day respectably on Love's silhouette. Now, it was filling with a memsmerizing slowness. The shirt bulged out, gapping from the top down. As it tightened, her nipples stiffened against the chafing shirt, and, soon, it was clear that something was afoot. By this time, all cameras were on Love, and she knew this wasn't going to end well. The buttons strained. Stitches tightened. White breast-flesh begged for more room. POP! POP! POPOPOPOP! Her shirt now hung open to reveal that grapefruits were an accurate description of her current bustline, and it wasn't slowing down.

       Her bra, a strapless demi-cup enhancer (and hopelessly overwhelmed) decided it was time for some fireworks, and snapped from the back, shooting out the window and landing appropriately on the camera now laser-focused at the spectacle. Love clutched her bosom with her arms, only to be surprised by the firmness, shape, and sensitivity of the increasing flesh. "OH!" An squeal escaped her lips. On the one hand, she now had convienient pillows in which to bury her embarrassed face. On the other, she was riding high. Love shrieked in pleasure, and then saw what was happening to Jenny. Her eyes opened wide.

       Jenny's jeans had begun custom-fitted for her famous rump. No amount of fitting whatsoever for anyone would have prepared these jeans for their current struggles. First, her waist buttons popped, and the jeans unzipped, revealing her bikini-line panties. Struggling for comfort, Jenny attempted to strip off the jeans, but her legs lengthened and ripped the fabric clear up the hemline.

R-R-R-R-R-R-RIP!!!

       Jenny pulled the shredded denim from her waist, and watched as her rump swelled to twice the size of any normal rear. Her panties, amazingly, stretched until they were barely thin lines encompassing her bum. The air cannon had long been crushed under Jenny's booty and Love's boobs were racing to keep up. Beachballs had been surpassed by beanbags, and the only thing left that either could think to describe their enhancments was...WOW.

       Jenny started in first onto Love. By the time she had realized what was happening, she was too excited to care. She seized what she could of Love, and began desperately kissing and touching to relieve the tension. "Oh, Love! Please help me!"

       Love, in a last desperate attempt to think clearly, thought to herself, What on earth could have caused this! I don't really care, and yet...

       The epiphany came to her in her final desperate attempt at self-restraint. "The SHOWER! The PITCHER! Oh dear GOD!"

       "Precisely, my maidens," the director grinned as he stepped into what portion of the bar was not yet filled with booty and booby.

       "Y-y-you! W-w-what have y-y-you done t-t-to u-u-US?!?" Love cried out as she bucked wildly under a cresting orgasm. "Th-th-this may be the m-m-m-most wonderful f-f-f-feeling in the world, b-b-but this isn't RIGHT!!!" She screamed again as Jenny began sucking one nipple, while Love was frantically readjusting herself to Jenny for better aim at her bum.

       "I call it...Jenny's Love. Unfortunately, it's only a prototype, no telling what it will end up doing. Once I've finished with you, I'll realize the precise concentration needed to infect the entire world's water supply with my splendid chemical."

       "You won't succeed! You can't!"

       "Maybe not, but then, who can risk it? I'll have the whole world full of women turned into bimboized sluts, perfect for explotation. Taking over the world will be only a matter of promising every man his fantasy woman...and delivering."

       Love was fighting, deep inside. She knew that somehow, she hadn't given in quite to the strange formula. It was then she realized that it was under her control to grow or not. Her and Jennifer. They were the ones with the power, and not only did they have to save the world, but they could corner the market on transformation fetishes (what, you didn't think she was interested?). So, she acted for all she was worth, while striking a good slap in the butt on Jenny (it was hard to miss), which snapped her out of her reverie. "I-I-I j-just want to know...WHY?"

       "Simple," said the director. "I have WAY too much time on my hands..."

       "That's not the only thing!" Love declared as the director realized, too late, that both women were now in complete control of their faculties. "Come on, Jenny! LET'S ROLL!" The last sight that the director saw was the cleavage of Love's boobs and the crack of Jenny's bum as they rumbled towards him...

Epilogue

"SO, TELL US, LOVE, HOW DID YOU SAVE THE DAY?"

       The story had leaked rather quickly. Nearly everyone was arrested who was involved with what came to be called The Expansion Project" after Jenny & Love made it clear that there was no escape (they demonstrated their new-found expansion powers a few times, just for effect). The few people who tried to run suffered (or enjoyed) the duo's wrath.

       "It was really quite simple. We were pioneers in the film, and we...grew into the roles, so much so that we couldn't help ourselves!" Love spoke of the footage of the amazing tranformation, and also of the duo's newly-improved appearances. The chemical had stabilized, and the women had reduced their absurd expansion to respectable, if larger, proportions. Love had settled at volleyball breasts, while Jenny had opted for a watermelon-sized tush. "Now, not only do we have an upcoming film, but a soon-to-be released sex tape, containing more than enough goodies for even our most obsessed fans!" Love giggled. "I guess you could say this is our little 'Coming Out'!" Love smiled at her new partner, and planted a dramatic smooch on her lover's lips.

"Yeah," agreed Jenny, "and for all my Bronx homies, let it be known that there's now TWO Jennies on the Block!"

END