Chapter 109: Nice, aren't they?
My first class was Physics, which I enjoyed except for the math. Mr. Turner wasn't a great teacher. He went by-the-book with all the lessons and demonstrations. I liked his class because he did the experiments himself, rather than relying on videos, that crutch of the unimaginative and the poor planner. Sometimes the experiments didn't go right and he would spend the rest of the period finding out why. I think I learned more from watching him go about finding out why something didn't work than I ever would have by just seeing the demonstration go off as planned. As a teacher he sucked, but as an example of how scientists found things out, he was a marvel.
After the bell ending the first period, I went down the hall to meet Sandra. She wasn't hard to find.
"Ah! There you are!" she screamed, like I had been somehow hiding by standing in the middle of the hall.
"OK Sandra. Let's do this. Come in here." I held the door to the girl's lavatory for her. She balked. Did she think I was going to expose myself in the hallway?
"No. You first." She insisted. Her train of thought ran on a very short track, indeed. I think she expected me to lead her into the restroom and then bolt off down the hall in full view of everyone.
"Very well." I went inside. She followed, as did three girls who considered Sandra's antics to be the height of entertainment and two whom I was surprised to see there. It only dawned on me then that they were there for the show. They were among those who were attracted to me or were fascinated by my large breasts. I smiled at them. These might be some new playmates.
"OK, smartass!" Sandra said. "Now we'll see!" She still could not forecast the weather an inch from her nose.
I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it out of my skirt, but did not open it. Instead I backed up against a sink and put my hands on my hips.
"OK, Sandra. Go ahead. You want to see them so bad. Help yourself."
She stepped up to me and took hold on my blouse with a triumphant glare.
"Go easy, lover." I told her in a sultry voice. "I bruise easily."
She flung my blouse open, holding it wide so everyone could see my bra. The nursing bra was form-fitting and snug but not tight. It was designed to be comfortable to women with swollen, aching breasts. It provided more support than I really needed and it was wonderfully soft and stretchy.
Sandra still could not imagine being wrong. Even though the bra did nothing to hide my cleavage, she still looked at me like she was on the verge of finding a secret horde of tissue on me.
I took hold of the inside edge of both cups and pulled them aside, displaying my big boobs for everyone to see. There was no outpouring of paper, of course. I heard three sharp gasps from the audience; two from my girls and one from one of Sandra's. Sandra herself was apparently struck dumb. She just stood and stared down at my breasts as though hypnotized. I tested that theory by twisting slightly one way and then the other. Sandra's head followed my every move.
"Here," I said, taking her hands and placing them under my breasts. "Feel for yourself. No implants. No tissues. Just me."
Sandra followed instructions. She squeezed gently and hefted and stroked.
"Nice, aren't they?" I asked in a low tone. Sandra nodded. "You have a nice touch." I told her. "That feels good. You must have done this before."
Sandra actually started to smile at me before her homophobia reasserted itself and she pulled her hands away like she had touched a hot stove. She got this look of terror that told me that she actually did like girls, but was in extreme denial over it. She raced from the room, banging into the heavy door on the way. Two of her friends followed her.
The three who were left were still staring at me. I stood where I was and stared back, smiling in a friendly way. One girl edged closer, then another.
"It's OK," I said. "Look as much as you want. You can touch them too, if you like."
One brave girl actually took me at my word. Oddly enough, it was one of Sandra's hangers-on. She stroked my breast and even touched the nipple. I smiled at her and put my arm around her waist.
"I hope you are all satisfied that they are quite real?" I asked. All three nodded. "Good. Please tell your friends and anyone interested that you can vouch for their authenticity. I don't want to have to keep doing this, even though it has been fun."
The other two left to spread the word and I looked at the girl in my arm. She still had her hand on me. It felt very warm.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Jolene Maddox."
"Well Jolene, we seem to be alone. I won't tell anyone if you want to play some more."
The idea shocked her for about a quarter of a second, then it titillated and intrigued her. She bent down and kissed one breast and then the other. Not a peck, either. She pressed her lips to my flesh and kissed with no small degree of passion. When she had finished, my nipples had visibly hardened.
"Look what you did," I told her, running my fingers around my nipples. She giggled. I pulled the bra cups back into place and buttoned my blouse. "Jolene, you and I are going to be good friends." She smiled broadly at the prospect. I hugged her to me and kissed her neck, just below her ear. She giggled again. It was a pleasant sound.
Jolene and I left together and walked a ways down the hall before going to different classrooms. I remembered her being in at least one other class of mine so I would be seeing her again today. She might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she was nice and that was certainly better than the alternative. Not all your friends can be really smart or really pretty or have great bodies or be great conversationalists. Sometimes 'nice' is all people have to offer. I resolved to be kind to everyone not actively looking to piss me off. As policies go, it wasn't too profound, but it was simple and would be easy enough to follow.
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