|
Vicki, by The Game Master 1/3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Vicki, By the Game Master
This story is true, so certain names and places have been
changed to protect the guilty.
I first met Vicki about 7 years ago when we were both
23. She hired in to the company where I worked, but we had
very little initial contact. Vicki was fairly plain, not
too pretty; a typical female engineer. I was not drawn to
her, for she was definitely not my type. Her short hair was
dirty blond, her breasts were 36a, and her hips were
slightly hefty. My girlfriend Amy, however, had long
brunette hair, a 40d-26-36 figure, and loved sex. There
just wasn't much reason for me to be interested in Vicki.
Our company has about 10,000 employees, and our
department over 200 people amassed in a large office area,
so Vicki and I did not have any opportunity to get to know
one another that first year. The only times that we spoke,
we started a fake/hostile relationship, always giving each
other a hard time. But that was just her nature. During
this time I became engaged to Amy, and we planned to marry
in the fall of 85.
During the summer of 85, we ended up as engineers in
the same section. A desk next to me became vacant, and
Vicki ended up sitting there. Quickly we became friends,
still always giving each other a hard time. Still I felt no
great attraction for her in a sexual manner (besides the
natural male curiosity), and our relationship soon began to
turn into a brother/sister interdependence. Both of us are
only-childs, so the experience was kind of unique for us.
Vicki clearly let me know that she found me in no
way attractive in a sexual manner. While I felt the same,
the more that she pointed this out to me, the more she
became attractive.
Amy was never jealous of Vicki. First of all, Amy is
not the jealous type, but second, Amy knows my taste in
women, and Vicki clearly did not meet the mold.
On schedule, Amy and I married in October of 85. Vicki
came to the wedding, bringing one of her first dates in
months. Vicki rarely dated, and was a self admitted virgin.
Meeting her, you would understand. She really looked like
the kind of girl who would become a lesbian, controlled by
some butch partner. However, she was straight, and I could
tell she really longed for a boyfriend. I even tried to set
her up with a few friends of mine, but I think she felt
uncomfortable dating my friends (as though they might tell
me something behind her back). Because of this, none of her
dates ever got serious, and she was not a first-date kisser.
Since she did not go out much, Vicki would always end
up doing things with my wife and I. I know that she felt
like a third wheel, so we always tried to invite her to
group activities where there were other single people. A
bunch of us even went to Disney World together in the spring
of 86. We took over three rooms in the Contemporary Resort
and had a blast.
Finally, around Christmas of 86, Vicki started to go
out with Rick (we quickly dubbed them Rick & Vick). Rick
was a little older than her, and had just broken up from a
serious relationship, so he was not in any hurry to rush
into anything again. This casual approach to their
relationship put Vicki at ease, and by the fall of 87 they
were truly in love. Vicki never revealed the exact date,
but I think she lost her virginity about October of 87 to
Rick.
Rick was very good for her. Vicki's self-confidence
really began to build. She started working out at a health
club, she bought better clothes (even purchasing a few mini-
skirts which were just coming back into style), and she
really started to wear the make-up well. A new hairstyle
complemented her change, and she really began to attract
some attention.
The time spent working out really helped her figure.
Her slightly pear-shaped behind became the talk of our
department as it metamorphosized into a tight, shapely ass.
Her clothes were not so plain anymore. While not sexy by
any means, they did fit her better, and were of brighter
colors. Jeans and slacks definitely fit her better, and she
knew it. More than once I gasped aloud when she bent over
in front of me. Of course she would pretend to get mad and
angry with me, but I knew that she enjoyed the attention.
Her make-up and hairstyle really made her look
beautiful. Vicki's hair was now a lighter blond, and it had
grown shoulder-length. She never failed to turn a
head.
And then came the breasts. Vicki started on "THE PILL"
in the summer of 88. Her hormones began to react, and by
Christmas of 88 she had gone from a 36a to a 36c. We're
talking the difference between bumps and breasts here. It
was as though she had gone through puberty at 26. Once
again she became the talk of the department, and I actually
became quite proud of the fact that she spent all of her
free time at work with me. Guys would actually ask me what
my secret was.
But Vicki and I still remained just best friends. Our
relationship had not changed much, except that she did not
need my company outside of work. Rick (who became her
husband in July of 89), had his own set of friends, and they
usually did things with them. Rick and I were not
necessarily comfortable together, and usually avoided the
situation. I'm an engineer and kind of a computer geek,
were Rick is an office manager and a Raiders' fan, and
little else really matters. But I like him; he is
definitely good to Vicki, and very good for her.
Vicki, being a virgin up until Rick, was clearly
faithful. While I joked at sex with her a few times, she still
quickly let me know that it would be impossible. I know
that she didn't really take me seriously anyway. Our
brother/sister friendship continued.
In 1990, Amy and I had a daughter. One year later,
almost to the day, Vicki had a daughter as well. This gave
us even more to talk about as we compared notes, exchanged
clothes, and talked about such wonderful things as diapers
and rashes. And one thing both Amy and Vicki had in common
was breast feeding.
Amy's breasts had grown to 42DD over the summer of
1990. It was really amazing, but they were always so sore
and tender that Amy could not breast feed, let alone
withstand me playing with them. She had to use an electric
pump to get the milk, and feed our baby with a bottle. Here
were two marvellous mountains of flesh which were as
untouchable as sacred Indian ground. One of my favorite sex
acts was the old pearl necklace, but Amy definitely could
not stand to have my cock between her tits. Oh well, the
breast feeding only went on until Thanksgiving. Quickly her
breasts returned to their original 40D.
Vicki however was amazing. Those breasts which had
been 36a's in 1983 were now well over 38DD. The change was
incredible. 38DD's are just as large as 42DD's, the only
difference is 4 inches in the diameter of the rib cage.
So Vicki's tits were now as large as my wife's had been.
When she came back to work after her maternity leave, it
was quite a pleasure to see her try and fit into her
pre-pregnancy tops. Her tits were just enormous, and I
just couldn't help but stare at times.
Vicki seemed to take this rather well. Although she
constantly complained about their size and weight, she only
seemed to be flattered by my attention.
On one particular day, she arched her back and
stretched, immediately drawing my attention. A poor button
gave up its life and popped off, flying across our cubicle.
We both completely cracked-up laughing. "My god Vicki.
They're incredible! I think I would have died if I was as
close as that button too."
She just laughed some more and shook a threatening
finger at me.
Vicki would always disappear right after lunch as she
went to our company's medical department to pump the milk
from her breasts. I always volunteered to go and guard the
door for her, or to hold the pump, but she would just shake
her head and call me a pervert. After pumping, the milk
would be stored in her purse-sized ice chest.
This went on all summer until September of 1991 (I
write this less than a month after IT happened). Vicki and
I were assigned to go out of town together on a business
trip. Both of us are trainers for our department's CAD-CAM
system, so we were sent to a CAD class in Alabama. The
class was on a Monday and Tuesday, so we planned to fly out
on the Monday morning red-eye, and return on Tuesday
evening. This way she would only have to be gone from her
daughter about 40 hours. She had gotten ahead in pumping
milk, so her husband had a good supply to take care of their
daughter until Vicki returned. Since a woman cannot turn
off the milk supply, Vicki planned to bring the pump with
her and pump on the trip. This milk would then be discarded
since it would be too difficult to carry back on the plane.
Vicki and I really started to look forward to our trip
together. It would be really nice to get away from our
spouses and children (mine was a holy terror by this time).
We would also get to spend some non-work time together. We
took the usual ribbing from our co-workers and our spouses,
but no one was serious. Vicki and I had been friends for so
long; certainly if anything was going to happen, it would
have happened by now. Right?
We arrived in Alabama right on time. Since I had been
here before (and since it is kinda the male thing to do), I
rented the car and we made it to the class with time to
spare. The class lasted until 3:00, and we skipped out of
the afternoon lab so we could check in to our hotel. Vicki
also needed to pump, after which we would explore the town.
It was incredibly hot for September, so we really wanted to
get out of our good clothes.
Our rooms were in the same wing of the hotel, opening
out into a common hall. The were typical rooms with double beds,
a dresser, a nightstand w/ bible, a table, and two chairs.
The T.V. was at least 15 years old, and being in the bible belt,
there was no adult channel. Oh well, I'd live. It would
only be one night.
At 5:30 I knocked on her door. After the usual "just a
minute" she opened it.
"WOW!" I exclaimed. She was wearing a jean miniskirt
and hot pink tee-shirt which was filled with those two
gigantic melons. Her maternity bra was clearly visible
under the thin material. I could only imagine what this outfit
would look like braless.
"Watch it" she responded sternly. "It's just too hot
to wear anything else."
"I'm watching it!"
She shot me a dirty look and started down the hall
towards the parking lot. Her legs looked great. Once
again, because of the heat, she wasn't wearing hose. And
with her left-over summer tan and fit-and-trim legs, she
didn't need them. I only wished that I could see more of
her ass. Transfixed I followed her.
We spent our government per-diem at a Chinese
restaurant, and found a small mall to walk around in
(which was thankfully airconditioned). There
just wasn't much else to do in this mid-sized town.
We found two theaters in the mall, so we ended up seeing
Terminator 2 (I for the third time). Vicki's
husband just wasn't into those types of movies so it was her
first time. When the movie got out, it was 10:30 so we headed
back to the hotel, pausing briefly to get ice-cream at a very
packed Dairy Queen which had been trying to close since 10:00.
We said goodnight and parted in the hall. I turned on
the T.V., hit the john, and sat back to watch the news. At
least they had CNN. I quickly called my wife, told her I
was still alive, and she assured me that she and my daughter
were as well. Nothing exciting had happened since 4:00 that
morning, so we quickly said goodbye.
After this full day, I failed to realize how tired that
I was, and quickly dozed off while watching David Goodnow on
CNN Headline.
About 15 minutes later the phone in my room rang.
"Hello?" My heart was racing after being abruptly awaken.
"We need to go out." It was Vicki, and she was
speaking in her distressed voice.
"What?"
"I need to get something."
"What?" I repeated, slightly annoyed. She was always
pulling crap like this.
"I dropped the pump on the bathroom floor and it
broke."
"I'll be over in a second." I was still dressed and
merely walked the few steps down the hall to her door and knocked.
"Just a minute." God she was so predictable! I could
hear her putting clothes back on. She opened the door and
was dressed as before, but I was just too tired to care.
The broken pump was on the sink in the bathroom.
A plastic funnel covers the breast, and it had broken into
about 20 different pieces. Without it, the pump could not
build up suction and was therefore useless. The pump
itself, as well as the collection bottle was undamaged.
Vicki had moved to the desk/dresser and was
looking through the Yellow Pages section of the phone book.
"I called several places already, but none of them are open
this late."
"Where would you buy one anyway?"
"Well, K-mart or Ventura normally. Or a drugstore.
But this town completely closes by 10:00."
I picked the bed that Vicki was not using and stretched
out with her suitcase. Meanwhile, she tried every single
drugstore in the book. Nearly a quarter of them were open
late, but only the pharmacies. No one had a breast pump.
"Dang!" she exclaimed (hard language for her). "Who
else would sell them?"
"Oh, like I would know," I replied. "Can't you hold
off until morning?"
"No way. It hurts like crazy now. It was murder
getting through the ice-cream." But I knew she'd do
anything, suffer any pain, for ice cream.
"This isn't something that a 7-11 would sell." I
thought back to my own experiences with breast pumps. I had
only seen them at one place besides a store. "You could
call a hospital. They could probably use your milk."
She smiled and snapped her fingers. "Good idea."
The next barrage of phone calls lasted until midnight.
Basically they went as follows:
Hospital one had no maternity ward.
Hospital two accepted donations, but only during the
day shift, and only from women who had been checked out by
their lab. Vicki stressed that this was an emergency, so
they connected her to the emergency room clerk. The clerk
told her that pumping was not considered an emergency, but
since she was from out of town they would do it. She would have
to pay $417.00 (cash) or get authorization from our company's
insurance.
Hospital three was a trauma center.
Hospital four repeated hospital two, except it was over
$500.00.
Call five went out to our insurance company (whose 24-
hour number our travel itinerary thoughtfully had printed on
it). Basically, to them, breast pumping was not an
emergency. Authorization refused. Vicki insisted that she
speak with a supervisor, who happened to be a doctor. He
also refused explaining that a mistake on her part (such as
breaking her pump) was not going to be insured, especially
for $417.00.
Between us we had $100.00, the hospitals wouldn't take
a check, and neither of our bank cards would work anywhere
in this town. The hotel wouldn't cash anything larger than
$50.00, and there were no Easy-Ed's 24 hour check cashing
centers. Even the Western Union was closed until 6:00 am.
Already I could see that the breast pads in her
maternity bra were soaked. Dark circles were appearing on
her shirt at the tips of her huge tits. "Vicki, can you use
your fingers to force the milk out?"
"No, that just doesn't work. It gets the milk started,
but it won't do well enough." She was still scanning
through the phone book, I think nearly on the verge of
tears. "Maybe I should call my doctor. He could talk to
the insurance company."
"Well, all you really need is a baby."
"Great," she glared at me. "Where am I going to find
one of those?"
more to cum in Part 2
|
|
