Phone Action

by P.M. Driver

"K-N-O-T, hang on". God, didn't these people have anything better to do on a Saturday night than call a radio station. I have to admit in my 10 years on the air I had worked at a few stations where you would have loved even one call an hour. At "KNOT-101" as we were known, the phones could be slow on hour and ringing off the hook the next. But this had been extreme even for the "Love Lites" show. I'd been the host of it for the last two years and had seen a huge increase in listeners. I was now number two in adults every night of the week. Best of all, the show was consistently number one with women over 18. How those women loved to call. Mostly they were dedicating a special song to their lucky boyfriends and husbands.

A few of them were alone and getting off on the romance potential, dreaming of a tender moment with a willing man. And one or two hoped that the "willing" man was me. I had checked out "phone action" in the past.

Just as many DJs don't look near as good as they sound, the same was true for the callers. Sometimes they were odd looking, but almost always just...odd. So, I made it my number one rule. Performers don't date their audience. Lately though, I had been thinking about breaking rule number one. Her name was Heather.

"Hi, this is Bobby Stone. What can I do for you?". "Bobby Stone". My Program Director had given me that air name when I signed on. I was the third "Bobby Stone" to have worked there. Two had been canned, but one actually made it to the big time. He was Morning Drive jock on a top-rated station in Philly, the lucky bastard. He changed his name as soon as he walked out our door the final time. Good move. "Hi Bobby. Busy night?". It was Heather.

"Hey there gorgeous. I always have time for you!" That certainly had been the case lately. She had started calling a few months back... first making requests, and then just to chat. We discovered similar interests; old movies, water sports, fast cars, good food and wine. I also learned that she was 28 and had just become a widow nine months before. Finally just ten days ago I broke down and asked her to send a picture of herself. I had to see the face behind the voice. She complied, but with a picture of her in grade school. It was the face of a sweet little girl with blonde hair, pig-tails and a missing front tooth. I figured if it really was a picture of her from long ago that she must now be very beautiful woman. I still wanted a more recent photo, so she sent a shot of her face taken in junior high. She was indeed becoming the woman I imagined from the first photo.

Finally, after much cajoling on my part she sent me a more recent photo. Again it was a portrait. There was the face of a stunning blonde woman in her mid twenties, I guessed, but no indication of the rest of her. Was she trying to hide something? At this point I guess her curiosity was aroused and she demanded a look at me. Fair is fair, besides, I have been called handsome from time to time. So I sent her a snapshot of me at a station event, standing next to the goofy, giant boombox mobile studio of ours.

"I was just lying here looking at that tall handsome man in the photo you sent me, wondering if it was really you."

"Yeah, it's the only me there is", I replied. "You know, I'm still wondering whose pictures I have been lusting after."

"How about we find out. What are you doing after work tonight?"

Uh oh. Moment of truth time. My resolve was weakening with each thought of that gorgeous face. Besides, since Janey and I split up three months ago, I had been living like a monk. I sure missed Janey's double E tits, but she was way too moody for me. She was in the running to be this years Prozac poster child. What the hell.

"Nothing much.", was my reply. "I was just going to have a glass of wine and read some more of the Tom Clancy I've been working on."

"How about coming over for that glass of wine, and maybe a soak in the hot tub?" Whoa! Really going to find out now if she's got something to hide. Swim suits show it all.

"I guess it's time to meet. We've shared so much over the phone. I hope the sight of me in person won't traumatize you too much." She laughed at that. "Where do you live?", I asked.

She gave me the address. It was in a very expensive neighborhood. Her dear departed husband must have left her well fixed. Well good for her. When my dad died at 58 he left my mom near destitute. Luckily my brothers and I were doing okay and could help her out. "See you at eleven. I'll bring the wine. A nice Sauvignon Blanc okay?" You could hear her smile through the phone as she responded.

"Fine, see you then. Don't forget your suit"

The phones kept ringing and the next few hours dragged by until finally I could hand the listeners over to "Danny Love" (another air name from our sadistic Program Director). After a quick visit to my apartment and the local liquor store, I headed up into the hills to Heather. Why was I doing this! All the strange women I'd met this way in the past. I hadn't dated a listener in over five years. Just to be safe, I parked my car up the street, so she couldn't identify it. I walked across the wide lawn, up the stone steps to the door of sprawling ranch style house. I rang the doorbell and my heart started beating faster. Too late now, boy-oh. I wanted to leave the wine and walk quickly away. There was the sound of light footsteps, a twist of the knob and the huge front door swung open.

There was that beautiful face I had seen in the photos. It was her. The long blonde hair was pulled back in a French braid. Her green eyes twinkled in the porch light. The face of an angel. She had on camel colored knit slacks under a long knit coat. The outfit was designed to conceal. There was some bulk under the clothes. Was she fat or built. I know how women can dress to hide their bodies and she was hiding something. Ah well, I was just here for wine, conversation and a swim, perhaps. She reached up and gave me a welcome peck on the cheek. Actually it was more a nuzzle than a peck. It was warm and nice. I held her gently by her back. Firm flesh. Hmmm.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said ushering me in to a spacious foyer and closing the door. "After you left work I realized too late that you didn't have my number. I'm glad you're here."

"I wouldn't have missed it," I replied, not hinting at my panic at her front door. "Here's the wine and here's the suit," I said as I held up my Speedo.

"It's so, uhm, small. I forgot that you swim racer guys like those. Can't wait to see it on." She smiled a seductive smile and led me back to a very comfortable family room, complete with bigscreen television, killer stereo, fireplace and huge curved sofa placed to seat up to eight in front of the TV. The stereo was playing some soft jazz and on the coffee table she had laid out some of my favorite munchies; brie cheese, pat�, crackers and smoked salmon. I guess we had shared a lot of info over the phone.

I opened the wine, poured and toasted our friendship. She approved of the choice of wines and helped me to some of the goodies on the tray in front of us. In no time we were lost in conversation. She told me of her childhood, schooling, parents and her life with her late husband. The room got warmer and I was wondering if she was going to take off a layer of clothing. We had gone through most of the bottle and were getting kind of silly and when I suggested we try out the hottub.

"I feel like we've gotten to know each other even better this past hour", she said. "I'm so, comfortable with you. I wasn't sure after my husband died if I could feel this way with another man again. You're a nice guy, Bobby."

"Dan.", I interrupted. "Dan Claymore. My boss gave me that stupid air name. If you want to know me, then use my real name."

"I do want to know you, Dan, and I want you to know me." She reached over and gave me another nuzzle and brushed her lips over mine.

"So is Heather your real name?"

She giggled. "Yes, silly. Dan, before we hit the tub, I want to share something with you that I have shared with very few people. I feel I can trust you, and you might even like it."

What could that be, I wondered. She walked over to the big screen TV, turned it on and inserted a tape into the VCR. Grabbing the remote off the coffee table she sat down and turned to me. "We both have a love of old films. Well, I have been taking home movies for a long time. Got interested in them through my Dad. He gave me my own 8mm camera when I was nine and told me to make any film I wanted to. He bought the film and paid for the processing. For a year or so I did all sorts of fun little documentaries, about friends, school and my family. Then I sort of lost interest, until I was 12."

"Oh, this is interesting", I thought. "I get to watch her home movies. I'd rather watch her in the hottub, thank you." She went on.

"Twelve was an awkward age for me. My best friend Gina had already started developing. Her body was the envy of all the girls in our class. None of the other sixth grade girls had anything even close to her round firm chest. She was already a 32B. I was still stuck with the body of a boy. I swore I would show her up and have the body everyone wanted, someday. I was consumed with the thought of growing a big chest."

"Where was this going?" I wondered to myself.

"On my thirteenth birthday I was still flat as a pancake. I remember getting some clothes as presents and they were all little girl things. I ended up crying in my room for what seemed hours. I was convinced that I was going to develop a knockout bod, but where was it! All the women in my family had big chests, but they had all developed quite young. I thought I had somehow ended up with the hidden, "flat chest" gene. Then, I got an idea. I pulled out the old movie camera, loaded it up with a fresh roll of film and wedged it in my bookshelf firmly between some big reference books. I had studied stop motion animation and decided that I would make a record of my body as it grew. I really had no idea how the film would turn out. I locked the door and stripped naked. I made a small mark on the floor and stood over it in front of the camera. With a long cable plunger attached to the shutter button, I snapped three frames. I did this once a week for four years. Oddly enough, that day coincided with the start of my body's changes. I grew and grew. My height changed only 6 inches in that time. My chest grew much more. Watch."

She started the VCR and there was Heather on the first day of her experimental film. It was like nothing you have ever seen. Before my eyes she grew, at a rapid rate. Within seconds her breasts grew to buds, then filled out to what must have been A cups, then B. On it went. The background changed a bit through the months, but not as dramatically as her body. She developed hips, grew in height some and the tits just ballooned. When the film ended she was sixteen and easily a FF cup.

"You're probably wondering how big I am after seeing all that. Well, at the start of the film, as you could see I was, well, flat. Within two months I was a B cup. By my fourteenth birthday I was a double D. When I reached my fifteenth I was a Double E. Then I slowed down some. By sixteen though, I was an H cup. 'H' as in HUGE. I had to buy ugly old bras at the large women's shop, but that's where all the women in my family got theirs, so it was okay. I was proud of my chest. I kept growing till I was twenty-one. I am the same size today depending on the time of the month."

She stood up and slowly removed her loose fitting knit top revealing a white linen blouse. The film alone had my prick straining at my shorts. Now I was getting light-headed at the sight of her loose blouse, knowing what must be hidden within.

"I felt I had to share this with you. Most men have thought me sort of grotesque. They like big tits, but mine are too much for most guys. Should I stop undressing?"

"Uh, no," I stammered. "I love a girl who fills out her shirt."

"OH, I can 'fill out a shirt' as you say." She slowly undid the shirt buttons, exposing cavernous cleavage. "You see, I ended up with the biggest breasts in my family... 58 inches. My measurements are 58-23-36." Her shirt fell to the floor. "Well, does this gross you out?"

"'Gross' is not the word I'd use," I said, and smiled. "'Awe-inspiring beauty' are a few words that come to mind." She had been braless under her tent-like blouse. Her mammoth juggs hung down past her navel and stuck out at least a foot in front of her. They were lined with a faint web of blue veins and even fainter traces of stretch marks. So that was the bulk under the blouse. It could have been just body bulk, but it was all TIT!! I reached for her and wrapped my arms around her, as best I could. Gently I nuzzeled her, as she had done to me, and brushed my lips over hers. She grabbed my face in her hands and planted a urgent probing tongue in my open mouth, an easy job since my mouth had been open in awe since the show-and-tell started.

"I got the big soft juggs I wanted, and then some.", she whispered. "And I ended up with one of the most unusual films you'll ever see. I don't wear bras when I'm trying to hide them. As you noticed, I can camouflage my breasts pretty well. Plus, I like to save the wear and tear on my undergarments. Each of my bras costs me $75 and has six very sturdy hooks to hold all it together. They have to be strong", she purred, "because these big beauties weigh just over 13 pounds, each. Oh yeah. Now that I'm a big girl I wear a 36 triple T bra."

I stepped back to take another good look. I didn't doubt they weighed 25 pounds or more together. Jesus, I didn't even know they made bras beyond a double H! What stunned me as much were the nipples. Most huge uddered women have nearly flat nipples. Not Heather. Each one was over an inch long and looked like a cork from a wine bottle. The areola were nearly six inches wide and an unusual chocolate brown color. I'd seen that color before, but where. These massive hooters belonged on a much larger woman. She was 5'6" and slim of body, except for her outrageous chest.

She smiled a wicked smile and lay back on the big sofa. "Come down here and plant your lips around one of my gigantic teats. They're really sensitive."

I didn't have to be asked twice. Before I could fulfill her request she stopped me.

"Watch", she smirked. "I'll show you how I like it done"

She hefted one of her huge melons. Though the tit-flesh was firm, they were so big, they just overflowed her dainty hands. They were literally the size of two fleshy watermelons. BIG watermelons. I could see the muscles in her arms working as she hoisted the overblown monster mam to her mouth. She wrapped her full lips around the mighty nipple and gave it a suck. Her mouth couldn't even accommodate half of the areola.

"I've been doing this since I was thirteen. My breasts just blew up; three cup sizes in the first six months that year. With each added cup size it just got easier. When I'm alone I get myself off sometimes just by sucking and licking and chewing on my tits" She licked her nipple for a half a minute and we both watched the nipple grow another half inch in length. It looked hard as a 357 slug. She dropped the massive breast with a slap on her belly and hefted the other one.

"I endure a lot of hassles from people about these monsters, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. I get a little embarrassed when it's cold out cause these giant nipples stick out so far. The amazing thing is, my back never hurt. Then again, I do a lot of exercises to make sure it won't. Let's see if I can get my other nipple up near the two inch mark." She gave the other titty some licking and up it popped.

"Now it's your turn. Suck on Heather's hooters." She laughed and they shook like they had life of their own. " Here, lie on your back and I'll hang my tits over your face. It feels good to have them hanging free."

I did as I was told. I couldn't believe I had over twenty pounds of tits right over my head. Actually, with her arms straight, her humongous juggs hung down on either side of my head, the teats resting next to my ears. I pushed up on her left breast with both hands and positioned the nipple in my mouth. It was harder than any I had ever laid my lips on. I worked back and forth between one and the other for a minute, then she said " Are you ready for another surprise?" I nodded, wondering if my heart could take it. Heather sat back on her haunches and started pulling at her mighty breasts.

"One reason my tits kept growing was that I have a slight medical problem. Nothing serious, but it could be a hassle to most other women. You see, my juggs are so huge and heavy partly because they are really full. Watch." With that she squeezed her left tit and four thick streams of grade-A moms milk came streaming out. The streams shot across the room and started to run down the windows that looked out onto the back yard. "This medical condition is rare and treatable. It causes milk production in non-pregnant females, like me. I don't want to fix it. I love these massive milkers!"

She dropped her huge left breast and milk continued leaking out down her belly to her leg. She massaged the other engorged tit and shot another four streams of warm jugg juice in my face. I was in heaven. Heather laughed and lay down beside me on the sofa and said "I need to be milked at least once a day, or I get sore. You look like you're enjoying this so, relax and give me a hand with these. Suck on my huge, milky melons, baby." Heather sighed. "It is such a satisfying feeling to nurse a grown man with my overblown breasts. It gets me really hot."

I knew where this was going, but first things first. The mothers milk was warm and sweet. The supply seemed endless. After five minutes or so she popped a tit out of my mouth, grabbed both giant hooters and shot the thick warm streams into her mouth and sighed a contented sigh.

"Oohh yesss.", she hissed. "How I do love these big boobs." Heather grabbed her tit treasures and worked them over roughly, pulling, kneading and massaging them. She smiled.

"You sure know how to make a woman happy. Seems you like my two-ton titties. I think it's time for some hot-tubbin'." She led me to her bedroom and then out to a private enclosed area where a humming tub waited. Unharnassed, the massive melons nearly knocked her off balance when she walked, so she took her time getting in.

Once in the tub she floated her whoppers around a bit, then slid over to me and grabbed my cock. Despite the heat of the tub, my prick was still at attention. She smiled and gave it a tug, bringing it to the surface. She wrapped her lips around my eight inches and sucked like I had on those mighty mummaries of hers. Once she was sure I was good and hard, and ready to cum, she slipped my dong into her cleavage and squeezed those triple-T juggs around my rock-hard dong. Slowly she pumped up and down, my shaft well buried in her jugg jail.

Her tits were still oozing milk all over the hottub and the sight of that caused me to explode in a geyser of warm sticky cum. She ran her mouth over the head of my cock and then over her massive juggs. She didn't miss a drop. She hefted her breasts again and shoved them in my face with a wicked laugh.

"Come to bed", she said," It's my turn."

On the way to her king-size bed, she headed off to her dressing room with a promise to return. I made myself comfortable on the fresh white linen sheets. Heather returned in a few minutes wearing the most outrageous costume I had ever seen. She had stuffed her mega-tits into a hot red bustiere. It was obviously a custom job; Victoria's Secret doesn't sell 36TTT bustieres let alone bras. To hold up the massive cups and their contents, the designer had built in some substantial supports.

"Well, what do you think? I had this custom made with aluminum stays to hold my 15 pounders at attention. Oh, and you'll like this. When have you seen a nursing bustiere before?"

She climbed onto the bed with me and, kneeling before me, undid the hooks above one of the circus-tent sized cups. Teasingly, she slowly drew the flap of fabric down, letting the top of her titanic tit bulge out. She teased me a bit by shaking her watermelon sized breasts back and forth. It was an obscene sight; I had the boner to prove it.

"You are mighty big yourself," she purred. "I'm gonna need to be real wet to accommodate that monster. Suck some more on my big milk juggs and get my pussy flowing." She lay down next to me, her head propped on a pillow. As I started to suck, she met my mouth with her own on the two inch nipple. We sucked and kissed and suckled some more together on the huge dug.

" Triple T cups means totally tasty tits. Now you know why I love having big tits. I bet no one ever sucked her own nipple with you before." She squeezed her tit some more and another torrent of milk flooded my mouth. She undid the other cup and started to squeeze a milk geyser into the air. The bed was getting soaked.

"Don't worry, I have a plastic mattress pad under the sheets. I leak sometimes at night. Look, just like Old Faithful."

I moved down from her udders to her soaked pussy. It was sweet and warm. As I licked and probed it with my tongue she sighed and sucked first one giant jugg, then the other. Finally, I could take no more and I plunged my manhood into her. As I lay on her, pumping slowly in and out, I could feel her mighty udders leaking warm milk. Her breast bags bulged outrageously past the sides of her ribcage and towards her face. As I continued to massage her pussy with my dick, I played the image of the home movie in my head . The thought was too much. I came just seconds before her own violent orgasms. She shuddered and shook, wildly tossing her breasts side to side.

"Mmm. It's been over a year since I had a man come in me. I can't believe I found a true tit-lover. Best of all, I liked you over the phone, before you'd seen these." She reached around and undid the catches in her bustiere. Heather cradled her awesome tits as they fell free of their prison. They were soaked in sweat and fresh milk. Each filled her forearms from her hands to her elbows.

"I can't always fit into that outfit, you know. Just before I get my period, my tits gain another half pound and swell up over two more inches. You'll have to check that out some time." She gave me a long, soft, wet kiss and gently stroked my cock. "To think we met over the phone."

Heather my sweet, if I have my way you're the last woman ol' Dan will ever meet. No more phone action. That's rule number one.