Dr Hooters - Pt. XLV by the Road Dog SOMETHING IN THE AIR Tarah snapped the sheet into place on the big double bed in the penthouse. There were liquor bottles all over, scraps of food littering the floor. She picked up a pair of panties. Disgusting, she thought. Another hot-shot rock group comes to town. Their sycophantic record company books them into the best lodging in town, the penthouse suite at the Corona Real resort, and they treat it like a college frat house. Fucking swine! This place costs over four hundred a night! She checked the schedule. It was empty for the next couple of days, then some business group had it for the rest of the month. July was prac- tically empty so far. One or two days per week for the whole month. Well, as hot as it got in Florida in July, she wasn't surprised. It was the slow season. Then she saw that that the Tropicalia Corporation had the whole month of August booked. She lifted a shapely eyebrow. They must've gotten a good deal from the resort to book the whole month. Anyway, it would mean steady work for her, and if the guests were generous, maybe she could go back to Flagler Communi- ty College full-time in the fall. Tarah tidied the place up as best she could, then bent over to start the vacuum. Ouch, there it was again! That strange stab- bing sensation in her chest. As she worked, though, the stabbing sensation changed into a delicious, melting warmth that suffused Tarah's body, spreading from her chest outward to the extremities of her legs and arms. Her breath coming now in short pants, Tarah collapsed on the bed she had just made. The tightness she felt earlier under her uni- form blouse dissolved into great crashing waves of semi-electric sensation, each one more powerful than the last. Tarah cried out as the last one, almost orgasmic in its intensity, crashed against her and left her throbbing from head to toe. "Where did that come from?", she wondered aloud as she picked herself up off the bed. Tarah soon found it hard to breath, as though her blouse were too tight. She looked down and, sure enough, her crisp white uniform blouse had bunched up in front, and her bra felt as though it was stretching and constraining her. She ran to the bathroom and un- buttoned herself from the back. What the mirror revealed surprised and delighted her. As she stripped the uniform shirt away, Tarah saw that her breasts had grown, almost doubling in size. She had a well-turned island- girl figure - narrow waist, firm buttocks, and medium sized breasts. She filled a 32C admirably, but these looked more like they would need a double-D. Her bra was squashing the new growth against her chest, forcing it over, under and around the sides of the well-stretched cups. She peeled it away, and her new larger breasts swelled forth gratifyingly, swaying slightly with the release. Stroking the sides of her newly enlarged breasts with her long fingernails, she saw that the nipples sprang instantly to atten- tion. They were larger now too, little pencil erasers standing atop dark half-dollar-sized areolae. Tarah turned from side to side in front of the mirror. Her coni- cal, cinnamon-colored breasts **did** feel heavier, and they did sway more appreciably as she turned. Yes, they were larger, as incredible as that seemed. She held up her old 32C bra in front of her new bounty. No way I gonna get these in there now, she thought. Too much Tarah now, and too little bra. Better I just hang free the rest of the afternoon. She buttoned her uniform blouse over her unfettered new breasts, humming happily to herself. A girl can always put a little extra titty to good use, she thought to herself. Always. *********************************************************************** Throwing her arms around Steve's neck, Karen kissed him fiercely around the lips. "Oh God, Steve!", she cried. "Its beautiful! Thank you! Thank you!" She lifted the ring up to the sun and watched the diamond sparkle. then she slipped it on her narrow finger. "I can't believe it! You really mean it, don't you?" Steve shoved his hands into his pockets. "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't mean it, Kin-kin", he said. "But you didn't an- swer me." "Of **course** I'll marry you, Steve", she finished. She admired the ring glittering on her finger. "The only question is, when?" "Uh, now?" Karen laughed, and it seemed to Steve that her laugh sounded like the tinkle of wind-chimes in a summer breeze. "Steve, honey!", she said, still laughing. "You've got no job. You've just moved in with Jeremy and his dad. How are you going to support me?" "I guess we don't have to get married right away, Kin-kin", Steve replied. "I'll get a job. I'll go back to school, study aero- nautics like I wanted to. The only thing I ask is that you let me keep up with the band. We're finally starting to get some dates!" Kissing him lightly on the cheek, Karen stroked him on the chest. "Of course, darling. I'll even put up with Jeremy Preston as best man, if I have to." "I'd never take it that far, Kin-kin" Steve turned down the beach road that led to Karen's cottage and Jeremy's house. "Now that we're gonna be neighbors, I'll be see- ing a lot more of you. That'll be nice!" "We can have the engagement party at the cottage, Steve. All the girls are gonna be staying at least until then." Karen leaned her head against Steve's shoulder. The band can set up in the back yard, and we can just rock the block." "Great idea", Steve concurred. I think Jeremy's dad's gonna be out of town on the boat then, too. We can open up the house, and have a two-house party. Invite the whole town!" "August the seventh sound good to you, Stevie?, Karen asked. "That's almost a month away. I don't know if I can wait that long!" Karen laughed again. "No silly! Not for the wedding! For the party!" "Oh", he muttered, disappointed. "Yeah. I guess we really shouldn't get married before Christmas. Give the folks time t' get ready. August seventh sounds good for the party, though. Yeah, we're on!" "OK", Karen said. "I'll tell all the girls. You've met them all, haven't you?" Steve shook his head. "Kinda hard to keep 'em all straight", he complained. "Lessee. There's Chrissy and Courtney and Susan from your old school, and Candy's the older lady with the little girl. There's a girl with lots of freckles, Gindy or Minnie or something." "Ginny", Karen corrected him. "Yeah, Jenny", Steve continued. "Then there's the black chick, Tarah, and that new girl, with the gigantic maracas. I haven't met her, but Jeremy never stops talking about her." "Her name's Amanda. She's really the sweetest thing. Tragic story, you know. She was shipwrecked during Henry, and her whole family's disappeared." "Jeremy's obsessed with her. I don't think I even know what she looks like." Karen stretched. Steve glanced over at her, and noticed that she was filling out her T-shirt a little more generously these days. Not bad, he thought. "Then you've never met her", Karen continued. "She does have 'gigantic maracas', as you so poetically say. Poor bastard, that Jeremy. Just got weaned too early, I guess." Karen crossed her arms directly under her breasts, which caused them to stand out that much more prominently. Yes, Steve thought, they are bigger. Wonder if she's on the Pill or some- thing. "If we gotta talk about boobs, honey", he said, changing the subject, "let's talk about my favorites. Yours." "What about 'em?", asked Karen, brightening. "I dunno", Steve went on. "They look bigger. I'm not complain- ing, mind you." Karen smiled broadly. "You noticed, didn't you? You guys don't miss much when it comes to that." She giggled. "Maybe its my pe- riod. They've been tingling a lot lately, but I think that comes from thinking about you so much, lover." Cupping her hands under her breasts, Karen pulled her braless T- shirt tight around them. "They look pretty damn nice, though, I have to admit, don't they? Still, I hope they go back down when my period comes in. I can't fit into any of my bras or bikini tops." She put her hand around Steve's neck as he pulled up into the driveway of Jeremy's house. "You're going to have to learn about all these female things if you're going to have a wife, honey." They kissed and then he opened the door for her. He watched in admiration as the muscles in her still-matchless legs pumped away as she mounted the stairs to the cottage. *********************************************************** "So, whatd'ya think about Steve and Karen?", asked Chrissy, un- folding her towel on the beach. Ginny stuck the umbrella in the sand. It never did her any good to get any sun, as it just made her freckles worse. "I think its great! They're so much in love. I'm so jealous!" She adjusted the straps on her white one-piece bathing suit. Susan sat down next to Chrissy and began massaging sunscreen onto the petite brunette's back. She had braided her thick mane of jet-black hair and pinned it up into a bun on top of her head. "What I want to know is if any of those other cute guys in the band are still available", she said. "Like Tom Gallagher, for instance." "What about Greg?", asked Ginny. Susan shrugged, causing her tiny breasts to shake slightly in the padded cups of her black bikini top. "He's ancient history!", she affirmed. "I'm back in circulation again." "Watch out then, boys!", laughed Chrissy. "We're all three single again!" Chrissy was the smallest and prettiest of the girls at the cot- tage. At four-eleven, she was only six inches taller than Ash- ley, and her slender frame carried only eighty-five pounds. Still, it was admirably distributed, as her lime-colored two piece revealed. Her blue eyes flashed in a face marked by a spotless and creamy complexion, framed by her dark hair cut in a short, pixieish bob, and illuminated by a warm and intelligent smile. Not a lot larger at five foot-one and one hundred even, Susan Kim was also a head-turner, with her thick shock of jet black hair falling well past her buttocks, her olive skin, and deep brown almond eyes. She was wearing her customary black bikini, and had already sunned herself well past tan almost to mahogany. Good-natured rather than beautiful, the well-freckled Ginny was taller and larger than them both at five-four and one-thirty. She had accepted that she was an average-looking girl in a house full of lookers, and the unself-consciousness with which she car- ried herself gave her a lot more charm than she naturally pos- sessed. In her swimsuit, the explosion of freckles over the whole expanse of her body was painfully evident, but she made no effort to hide them or cover them up. Chrissy scanned the horizon for her favorite prey; men. "Pretty slim pickins today, girls", she complained as a balding, middle- aged husband-type sucked in his gut as he walked past. "Not to worry", chirped Ginny. "The best ones never come out till after three, anyway." "So what are we doing here then?", laughed Susan. "Ah-ah-ah-aw", moaned Chrissy, grabbing at her bikini top. Susan paused in her application of the sunscreen. "What is it, Chris?", she asked. "My boobs", Chrissy answered. "My boobs are tingling again, ex- cept its worse this time." "Funny you should mention that", Susan added. "Mine hurt like hell last night. I had to get up and splash cold water on 'em to get back to sleep." The Korean girl didn't mention then that the ache later dissolved into a luxurious, delicious tingling the sheer delight of which caused her to rub herself to climax three times. Ginnie blushed, the fair skin under the freckles turning a light pink. "Mine hurt too, now", she added. "They ought to, Ginnie", remarked Chrissy. "Look at you! You look like you're ready to come right out of that top of yours!" "No shit", seconded Susan. "Ginny, look!" Ginny looked down. Her freckled breasts were spilling exuberant- ly over the cups of the top of her swimsuit. She tried to pull the neckline up a bit, but this merely caused them to stick out the sides. Ginny patted the sides of her breasts. "They **do** feel a little bigger", she mentioned. "They **are** bigger, Ginny", Susan said. "Either that, or the swimsuit shrunk." "No", Ginny said, shaking her head. "This's Dacron. Dacron doesn't shrink." "Well, I wish **my** boobs would grow a little", Susan com- plained. "I don't have **anything** on top!" Even before the words were out of Susan's mouth, she felt some- thing like a gas bubble expanding under her nipples. Almost at once, the suit felt too constricting. Susan looked down. "Well, I'll be damned", she swore, as she saw her formerly miniscule breastlets poking out over, under, and from out the sides of her black bikini top. "Be careful what you say, girls! The titty fairy must be listening to us!" Susan pulled the padding out of her bikini top, and pushed her boobs back inside. "There!", she crowed triumphantly, patting her new chest tenderly. "Fits like a glove now! All my life I've stuffed myself to look like a 32-B. Now, shit! I am one!" Chrissy scowled at her two friends. "You two have all the luck, dammit!", she complained. "Ooops!", she added as her own chest tightened suddenly. She too felt a rising sensation as her biki- ni top began to chafe at her, pulling away slightly and riding up on her chest. "What the hell's going on?", bitched Chrissy. "Tits don't just grow! I've been a 30A all my life, since I was thirteen. Now look at this shit!" Chrissy's green bikini top strained to cover what appeared to be an almost C-cup sized pair of titties. She wrapped a towel around herself, since she didn't have any cotton to pull out like Susan, nor was her top elastic, like Gin- ny's. Chrissy's tormented top merely looked deformed now, push- ing her enhanced breasts up in two pudgy domes just under her chin. "Hey! What are you complaining about? If you don't want it, you can give it to me!", laughed Susan. "You know", Ginnie warbled, "Karen's been looking a little larger on top these days, too!" "You think it might be some kind of flu?", asked Chrissy. Chrissy laughed aloud. "A big-titty flu?", she screamed. "I can't believe it! Maybe Amanda's got a terminal case. I can see it now, in the Century Beach Dispatch. The headlines - 'Girls Found Buried Under Own Breasts. Mystery Disease Suspected!' " All three of them broke into a hearty laugh. "I don't much care, then", laughed Susan. "I hope I die from it!"