ALL TALK

"You're tuned to 760 AM, All Talk Radio."
    A familiar '70s rock selection began. It settled into a mellow groove. Soon the rhythm section was punctuated by brass, and a vocal refrain was heard. "Feelin' stronger every day... Feelin' stronger every day... You know I'm all right now... Feelin' stronger every day..." A friendly female voice spoke over the musical introduction. "And that's why were here — to help you in feelin' stronger every day. Welcome to this hour of the Dr Lorna show," she began, as she did five days a week, as her program was beamed to radio stations all over the United States via satellite. "Allow me to introduce the participants. Robert Longwell is our audio engineer — he chooses the music and makes sure you hear everything you're supposed to and nothing you're not! Lillian Holmes is our producer, she guides the conversation and screens your calls. Me, I'm Dr Lorna — I take responsibility for my actions. Why can't you?"
    Dr Lorna never altered the introduction to her highly successful nationally syndicated radio call-in program. Why tamper with success? Especially that 'I take responsibility' catch-phrase. It had turned into the kind of thing that gets put on bumper stickers and T-shirts, and that late-night comics make fun of. Dr Lorna knew that meant it had made an impact! And after all, it was her message. In a society where everyone feels 'It's not my fault', her mission was get people to own up to things that were their fault!
    Well... sort of. Her real mission was to score big ratings on the radio and make pots of money. But so far, this act was working like charm.
    "Let's take our first call," Dr Lorna continued. "Ashley, in South Carolina, you're on the Dr Lorna program. What can I do for you?"
    "Dr Lorna, my boyfriend and I are living together..." began the caller.
    "Oh, why don't you call it what it is? Shacking up," snapped Dr Lorna.
    "But Dr Lorna, that's not it at all. We're talking about starting a family..."
    "You're fornicating with a guy, you've got no ring, no date, and this sperm donor wants to turn you into a baby machine while he goes off in search of some seventeen-year-old cutie?" said the doctor. "Forget it, sweetie. Get out while you can. Next caller. Al in Massachusetts."
    "Am I on? I don't hear me," said a male voice.
    "Yes," said Dr Lorna, rolling her eyes. "Turn down your radio..."
    "Oh! Okay," said the man. "Oh, there I am..."
    Dr Lorna and Robert exchanged a knowing glance. The seven-second delay every call-in show used often confused listeners. "Okay, doc, listen," said the man. "My wife leaves for work in the morning, and..."
    "Your wife works?" said Dr Lorna, horrified. "You don't realize the importance of having one parent at home? Your selfish needs are more important?"
    "Doc, I was just trying to tell you what happened..." said the man, not realizing he had no chance.
    "Well, I guess some people feel two BMWs, a pool, and membership in the country club matter more than the health and well-being of their children! I have nothing to say to you, sir. Next!"
    Robert and Lillian couldn't help but laugh. She was opinionated, gruff, and short with listeners, but that's what the public demanded! They'd be disappointed if Dr Lorna changed. It made her talk show so successful. Lillian lined up the next call and messaged the doctor over the computer as to who the caller was and what she wanted to discuss. 'Ruth from Iowa,' read the message that appeared in the upper right corner of Dr Lorna's computer screen. 'Appropriate dress for work?'
    "Ruth from Iowa, you're on the Dr Lorna program," barked the host.
    "Yes, doctor... you deal with morals and ethics on your show," said the caller.
    "I know what my show is about," said the host, wearily. "Get to the point."
    "I want to know if it's ethical to wear the kinds of clothes I like to wear at my job. The men say it's distracting," said the woman on the phone.
    "Well, what do you wear?" asked the doctor, as though addressing a child.
    "Oh, short skirts, high heels, and tight low-cut tops. Very tight and very low-cut tops," said Ruth.
    "Wait a minute," said Dr Lorna. "Tight. Low-cut. How big are you?"
    "Only about five-four," said Ruth.
    "I don't mean how tall, I mean how big breasted are you?" demanded the doctor.
    "I guess about a triple D," ventured Ruth.
    "You don't know because you rarely wear a bra, am I right?" probed Dr Lorna.
    "Yes, that's true," agreed Ruth.
    "You know that a triple D is really an F cup, don't you?" challenged the host.
    "Yes," said Ruth, stifling a giggle.
    "You don't really want to know if it's ethical at all, do you?" fumed Dr Lorna. "You wear tight, skimpy clothing to show off your abnormally huge bosom! Don't you?"
    "Maybe I do," said Ruth.
    "Maybe, my Aunt Fanny," railed the doctor. "You big-breasted women are all the same. Using your 'charms' to snare men! Sleeping with every one in sight! Wearing your promiscuity on your chest like two big, bloated badges of honor! Call when you really have a question, Watermelon Woman!"
    There was a silence as the line went dead. Robert and Lillian had never heard such an impassioned response from Dr Lorna. They were a little shocked.
    "We'll be back after these messages," said the host, pointing at Robert to cue him to run the commercials.
    Robert tore off his headphones and ran from the booth to the studio. Lillian was rushing in through the other door.
    "What the hell was that?" Robert wanted to know.
    "God, Dr Lorna! Why tear into her like that? I thought it was a legitimate question!" said Lillian.
    "Oh, bullshit," muttered the doctor. "It's true. Busty women want men to lay down at their feet. And the shame of it is, most men will. And they really want to rub all of us other women's faces in it!"
    "Maybe, but I don't think it's the kind of thing you should be talking about on your program!" said Robert. "Stay away from that topic!"
    "Yeah, it sounds like it's too much of a hot button issue for you, Doctor," agreed Lillian. "Go back to the shacking-up stuff."
    "The Ginsana commercial is ending," warned Robert. "Stand by, everybody!" Robert and Lillian got back in place.
    "We're back on the Dr Lorna show," said the host, pleasantly. "Bill from Montana, you're on the air."
    "I don't think you treated that lady nice at all!" complained Bill. "The one who asked about low-cut tops..."
    "Cindy from California, you're on the air."
    "What have you got against busty women?"
    "Alice from Missouri, you're on the air."
    "You're right, Dr Lorna! Those freaks of nature are shameful! Don't they know they should cover up?"
    "Phil from Washington, you're on the air."
    "They're not all like that, Dr Lorna. Some women don't even want big breasts. That's just what they got from nature."
    "Oh, don't be ridiculous!" berated Dr Lorna. "Every woman I've ever seen with those enormous udders protruding all over the place wants every man in the place to know it! And know that there's a spot for his infantile face right between her two misappropriated baby feeders! Big busty women have no place in polite society. They're physically unsuited for it! Do you understand what I mean, Phil? Phil?"
    Dr Lorna had intimidated Phil right off the the telephone.
    Every caller — every last one — for the next two hours wanted to talk about what Dr Lorna said about big-breasted women. Some agreed, some did not. Men and women all put in their two cents. Big breasted women came to the defense of their well-endowed sisters. Scrawny girls condemned them. Puritans were aghast at the displays of flesh they saw in their own communities. Young men were in favor. No matter what they had to say, the callers just would not let the popular radio host drop the subject.
    "Wow. I never expected that," said Dr Lorna, shaking her head, as she and her staff sat down at the corner pizza joint for their customary post-show lunch and discussion.
    "Me neither," said Robert, ordering a pitcher of beer and three glasses.
    "Incredible," agreed Lillian as she picked up a breadstick. "What does it all mean?"
    "That we've touched a nerve, that's what!" said Dr Lorna.
    "You think?" asked Robert. "Like maybe the doctor ought to stick with this topic, since the people want to talk about it?"
    "And people mean ratings, and ratings mean cash. Yes," she answered quickly.
    "Dr Lorna," said Lillian, tentatively. "I have to ask you something. Do you have these feelings about busty women because... because... you're less than adequate in that department?"
    "Don't be silly!" said the doctor, shaking out her blunt-cut blonde hair. "I am not ... less than adequate. I'm fine."
    Lillian examined Lorna's modest figure in her sleeveless blouse. "You're... hmmm... about a 34B?" she enquired.
    "Yes, that's right," answered the doctor, surprised at the accuracy.
    "That's average, Dr Lorna," chided Lillian. "Average is hardly 'fine'."
    "Oh, but don't they say 'More than a handful is wasted'?" said Lorna, taking a sip of her beer. "Don't men say that, Robert?"
    "They say that, but they don't mean it," Robert answered.
    "Really?" said the doctor. "Lillian, what about you? Do men like your breasts?"
    "I don't care," said Lillian. "I want to know if women like them. I happen to prefer women!"
    Dr Lorna was silent. "I didn't know, dear," she said, finally. "Well, then maybe I should turn the question around! What kind of breasts do you like?"
    "Well... I like big breasts better than small, anyway!" said Lillian. "Most do, I think. It's kind of a silly topic, really."
    "Yes, but you heard the interest!" said the doctor.
    "Tell you what you ought to do," advised Robert. "Don't choose an issue for discussion tomorrow. Don't tell any of those anecdotes you like to tell at the top of the show, in order to steer the conversation the way you want it to go. Leave it to the listeners."
    "Okay," agreed Lorna. "And then what?"
    "If they want to talk tits — talk tits!" laughed Robert.
    "It's a deal!" said the doctor. The three shared a laugh as they clinked their beer glasses. "To talking tits!" said the doctor, in a stage whisper.
    "All-talk radio, 760 AM." "Feelin' stronger every day You know I'm all right now..."
    "We'll be the judge of that," said Dr Lorna, in answer to the song's lyric. "Welcome to this hour of the Dr Lorna Program. Robert Longwell is our engineer, Lillian Holmes is our producer, and me? I'm Dr Lorna, and — I take responsibility. Why won't you? Let's get right to our first caller. Janet from Connecticut, you're on the Dr Lorna program."
    "Doctor? You're all wrong about us well-endowed women..."
    "Linda from Nebraska..."
    "They are proud of their sleeping around, doctor. Would they show off their busts so much if they weren't?"
    "Don from New York..."
    "Listen you skinny bitch, lay off the big girls! What you need is a good f—"
    Robert took advantage of the seven-second delay and cut that caller off just in time.
    "We'll be right back after this word."
    Robert and Lillian scampered back into the studio.
    "Well?" said the doctor. "You heard it!"
    "Sounds like that's what they want to talk about," agreed Lillian.
    "So be it!" laughed Robert. "Now you're Dr Lorna — the one who talks about big boobies!"
    "As long as it sells," said the doctor. "The iced tea spot is finishing up. Stand by—"
    "Boy, you wouldn't think there'd be that much to say about humongous knockers, would you?" marveled Dr Lorna as the group ordered lunch once again.
    "Oh, I don't know," said Lillian, with a gleam in her eye. "It's one of my favorite subjects."
    "We're seeing a whole new side of you, Lillian," said the doctor, as she helped herself to a beer. "Tell me, Lillian — do you like mine?" Dr Lorna puffed out what there was of her chest.
    Lillian looked her up and down. She wasn't at all unattractive. Her face was round, bright and youthful, her legs were long and shapely — even though she generally covered them up with slacks. And she had a strong, broad-shouldered upper body... the kind that made you expect bigger breasts than Dr Lorna had!
    "They're not bad," teased Lillian.
    "Thank you, my dear," said Lorna, turning to Robert. "Let's ask the man? What do you think, Robert?"
    "Dr Lorna, I think they're bigger than they were yesterday!" joked Robert.
    "Oh, right," she said in response.
    "I'm not kidding," countered Robert. "Was your bra tight this morning, doctor?"
    "That's a rather personal question, don't you think?" snapped Lorna, now hunching over to hide her chest.
    "Was it?" Lillian wanted to know.
    "Well... as a matter of fact, it was," admitted Dr Lorna.
    "I think the more you talk about breasts, the bigger yours are getting," offered Robert, pouring himself a beer.
    "That's ridiculous!" sniffed Lorna.
    "I don't know," said Robert. "You've heard the phrase 'the power of the media'?"
    "Sure!" said Dr Lorna.
    "Talking about your breasts to that many people, that many hours, over that many miles," Robert wondered. "It could have some kind of effect."
    "That's just silly!" muttered Dr Lorna. "But it is good business. We're going to get more listeners and more advertisers with this topic. So! How can we keep the buzz up on this thing? When people talk about radio hosts outside of the radio show — that's when they start to become cultural phenomena!"
    "The Internet," said Lillian.
    "Yes! That's it! Robert, there are chats and newsgroups about talk radio, aren't there?" asked Lorna.
    "Yeah, and there are lots of them about sex!" said Robert. "We should get them talking about this."
    "I have an idea," said Lillian, with growing excitement. "I'll bet a lot of people think Dr Lorna is talking about breasts because she doesn't have any. Robert, could you cut out her head and put it on the body of one of those big silicone strippers?"
    "Sure," said Robert. "Why?"
    "We can imply that this is a nude photo of the doctor, and talk about how hypocritical it is for her to talk about these women since she IS one!"
    "That would work," said Robert. "People who'd never ever heard the radio show would be talking about you, doctor."
    "Then let's do it!" said Dr Lorna. "All publicity is good. It doesn't matter what they say, as long as they spell my name right. L-O-R-N-A."
    Robert raised his glass. "To the tit-hounds on the 'net." They shared a toast. "The key to our success," he added, as they all drank!
    The results were... well, astounding. Not only did Dr Lorna's ratings rise dramatically, but there were stories about her in the tabloids, on the TV newsmagazines, and even in the legitimate press! They all used Dr Lorna's constant discussion of breast size as an example of what the media is stooping to... but Robert noticed that no one passed up the chance to show his doctored photo of the doctor on camera... with the nipples and other private parts obscured. Robert chuckled. Another example of the media having its cake and eating it, too. They showed big-busted photos, paraded on big-busted women for comments, and played excerpts of all the tit-talk on Lorna's program... but they pretended it wasn't to titillate, but rather to show righteous indignation over our baser instincts. What bullshit, he thought.
    He didn't have much time to think about it, though. Dr Lorna's new higher profile meant the show picked up more affiliate stations, and was lengthened to four hours every weekday. And Robert not only had to work on the show all day, but he was in charge of monitoring and encouraging web-chat about the doctor all night! His sleep life... and his love life was suffering. Too bad Lillian wasn't interested, Robert thought, as he gazed across the studio to where Lillian sat, screening the calls. Lillian was a pretty hot little number, in her own way. He activated another commercial break.
    "Women, call Top Body Imaging to remake your image — starting with your top! Doctor Evelyn Swell's patented method guarantees results, up front where it counts..."
    Robert almost laughed out loud. The new focus of the program was certainly attracting an interesting group of advertisers. Robert checked the broadcast log and looked over at his boss, Dr Lorna. Then he looked again. Her sweater seemed to be swelling. Really. She looked at least two or three cup sizes bigger than she had when this all began, just a few short weeks ago. Maybe she was eating more, due to the rise in her personal income. Robert looked closer. No, it wasn't that. Her stomach and hips looked just like they always did. Well, maybe her hips had more of a sexy swell... but only in proportion to her expanding bust. God, those titties looked appetizing, he thought. He started wondering what they looked like under her sweater...
    In a moment, he realized Dr Lorna was tapping on the glass. Robert had forgotten to turn her mike back on after the commercial break. He quickly flicked a switch.
    "Welcome back to this hour of the Dr Lorna program," said the host. "Robert's our engineer, Lillian our producer, and me — I take responsibility."
    The new focus of the doctor's program made this catch phrase a little incongruous... but they kept it. After all, they had all those coffee mugs and T-shirts to get rid of.
    "Let's get right to the callers... Ellen from Missouri," continued Dr Lorna.
    "Doctor, I want to tell you something about us busty women, that you seem to hate so," said a woman with a sexy Southern drawl.
    "Now, dear, I don't hate you," snipped the host. "I just hate what those swollen symbols of sex appeal stand for."
    "Well, that's what I want to talk about," said the caller. "Do you know what you can do with a big pair of knockers — that little bitty girls like you can't do?"
    "No, what?" said the doctor. "Enlighten us, Ellen." Robert noticed that she was unbuttoning a few buttons of her cardigan sweater, which she seemed to be wearing without a blouse.
    "Well, we can see when a man likes what we have to offer," said the caller, adopting an alluring whisper. "And the more we show, the more he shows us that he likes it, if you know what I mean."
    "I do," agreed Dr Lorna, pulling her neckline wider. Robert felt a stiffening between his legs.
    "And then — we can use the bait to reel him in!" said the caller with glee.
    Robert hit a button to communicate with Lillian. "God, look at her," Robert said. "She's practically coming in front of us."
    "Yeah, this caller is turning her on," agreed Lillian's crackly voice through the intercom.
    "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Robert.
    "I'll bet I am," said Lillian.
    "Then let's go," said Robert, decisively. "She won't know what hit her!"
    Robert and Lillian tiptoed into the studio as the caller continued weaving her cock-hardening tale. "We can even make him... how shall I say this?" the caller giggled. "Mess his pants! Want to hear how?"
    "I do," said Dr Lorna, reaching into her sweater as her voice approached a moan.
    "Well, without undressing... we lift out the right one," teased Ellen from Missouri. Robert jammed a hand into Dr Lorna's sweater from behind, cupping her right tit and bringing it out to play. Lorna didn't even look up at him, she was so lost in the caller's words. "Then we play with it... bouncing it, squeezing it, even throwing it up into the air and letting it land with a cute little 'splat' sound!" she said, as Robert followed her instructions closely. "We pay special attention to its center," she drawled, and Robert grabbed Lorna's hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger, holding the heavy breast aloft. "At this point, you want to bring out its playmate!" laughed Ellen on the phone. Lillian grabbed Lorna's right breast forcefully and ripped off the good doctor's sweater, flinging it into a dark corner of the studio. Now America's favorite radio host sat topless in her studio, with two very horny people servicing her growing chest from both sides.
    "We make sure the ... the centers are well taken care of," said Ellen, as Robert and Lillian tingled Dr Lorna's nipples. "Either by ourselves..." Lorna's lovers lifted each heavy breast to the doctor's lips, feeding her her own elongated nipples. Lorna slurped them into her mouth, as Lillian playfully "shushed" her. "Or with help!" said Ellen the caller, breathing heavily over the phone. Robert and Lillian kneeled on the studio floor and eased Dr Lorna's nipples out of her mouth and into theirs, Robert on the right and Lillian on the left.
    "Have you ever had... one mouth on each breast?" Dr Lorna asked the caller.
    "Two lovers at once? No," said Ellen, delighted at Lorna's comment. "I line the men up and take 'em one at at time!" she said with glee.
    Lorna reached over and caressed Lillian's head as she sucked. "No reason they all have to be men..." Dr Lorna was heard to say.
    "No, none at all," agreed Ellen. "So do you understand what I'm saying?"
    Dr Lorna took a deep breath and got ahold of herself. "Not at all," she said with finality. "I don't understand this kind of public lewdity. That's exactly what I object to about you big girls!" Robert and Lillian released Lorna's titties and tiptoed back to their respective booths. "You insist on rubbing everyone's face in it! Rubbing... everyone's... face!..." She nearly yelped as came to a climax on the air. "In... it. Them. We'll... we'll be right back."
    Robert activated the next commercial break. "Tonight on Deep Kisses... will the vixen reel in her prey with her chesty charms... or will she be outdone by her equally abundant mother? Deep Kisses, starring Emma April Dawn and Mindy Monroe, tonight on..."
    Lorna retrieved her sweater from where Lillian had tossed it and finished the program. With a certain amount of difficulty. From then on, she confined her climaxes to the commercial breaks!
    Lorna, Lillian, and Robert sat at their usual restaurant booth for several minutes before anyone spoke. All of them were a little startled at what had taken place in the studio. They weren't sure what to do or what to say.
    Finally, Dr Lorna broke the silence.
    "Look, you two," she snapped, in her usual blunt fashion. "That was fun. A lot of fun! And it made for great radio. Let's keep doing it."
    Robert stammered. "You mean... talking about breasts, or what the two of us did to..."
    "Both, you big lug!" laughed the good doctor, ordering up lunch. "Ratings are up, earnings are up... and with you two around, my big nipples are up! I like it."
    "I liked it, too," admitted Lillian. "A lot."
    "Robert, here's what I want you to do," barked out Dr Lorna, pouring out beers for her tit-crazy lovers. "That picture on the Internet that you faked? Could you... take a real one? And post that one on the Internet, too?"
    "You bet!" roared Robert. "Yeah! You're bigger than that stripper was now, anyway."
    "Am I?" giggled Lorna, playing coy.
    "You know you are, Lorna," teased Lillian. "Those have to be... I don't know, G-cups or something."
    "Well, I wouldn't know," said Dr Lorna. "My producer and engineer prefer me to go without a bra! Let's take new naked pictures in the studio. I could be pressing all the buttons on the sound board with my tits—"
    "Or tickling my clit with your hard nipple in front of the microphone," offerred Lillian.
    "And letting me spew between your big ones right next to the 'ON THE AIR' sign!" called out Robert.
    "Tomorrow, before the show," said Dr Lorna raising her glass. "Of course, I'll need both of you there. So they look their best," she said, lifting up the knockers that had America talking.
    Everyone toasted the idea and quaffed their beers. "Say, doctor?" Lillian asked. "What kind of doctor are you, anyway?"
    "Ph.D. in Art History, but who cares?" smiled Dr Lorna, playfully pulling Lillian's face into her cleavage.
    "Stand by for last commercial break!" Robert called over the intercom.
    "The Showroom presents, the dancer that put them on the map! Thrill to the swollen frontage of the two-and-only Vicky Syn! Thursday through Friday, six shows nightly..."
    "Dr Lorna, you're on in three... two... one..."
    "In conclusion, I want to remind every woman with a freakishly deformed chest out there — I'm watching you!" scolded Dr Lorna. "I know how you can reduce men and women to babbling idiots! And I don't like it! I'm Dr Lorna, and — I take responsibility for my actions. Why won't you? Until tomorrow."
    "We're clear!" called Robert, as he and Lillian ran into the studio.
    Dr Lorna peeled off her tight t-shirt and set her prodigious breasts on the counter. "There they are, boys and girls," she purred. "Go to 'em. One tongue on each tank. Everybody suck!"
    Robert and Lillian paused in their disrobing to tease their over-endowed employer. "Dr Lorna," said Robert. "I'm Robert, and this is my engorged cock."
    "Dr Lorna," added Lillian. "I'm Lillian, and these are my aroused nipples and dripping cunt."
    Dr Lorna smiled wickedly. "I'm Dr Lorna," she recited, lewdly licking her lips. "And I take responsibility."

THE END