Drawing Lyle was no problem, as Katie had committed every line and detail of his face to memory, but the restaurant was a challenge. Not to mention that she was in a hurry. So, Katie played it safe and sketched a quick rendering of the interior of the local burger joint, Mike's, with Mike himself at his usual place at the grill, but no one else in the dining room. A brief buzzing and a bit of vertigo left Clara moaning softly on Katie's bed, and Katie sitting in a plastic booth at Mike's, across a greasy table from Lyle.
"Lyle..." Katie breathed in a combination of surprise and infatuation, "Sweetie, my eyes are up here."
"H- oh... Sorry Babe. It's just that-" The eyes Lyle hauled up from Katie's chest to Clara's face had a misty, vacant look, and Katie wondered if she'd overdone it with the cartoon hearts popping up around Lyle's head in the drawing. "Um, Clara, yer shirt is-"
Katie looked down and blushed in mortification. She was leaning into the table as she usually did when she ate, and her voluminous breasts had pushed into her plate of French fries. A ketchup stain soaked the front of her top right between her tits. She'd sketched herself in a nondescript sort of V-necked top that might have been a sweater or might have been any other elastic material, but certainly might not have featured more cleavage without being illegal. The pen had interpreted it as basic cotton T-shirt knit, and the ketchup was making its way across the front rapidly.
"Oh, shit!" Katie jerked back, brushing at her front, but completely misjudging the distance as she'd never had much front to brush at before. Lyle moaned audibly at the sight of her mashing her hand into her boob. "Clara, babe..."
"What? Dammit, why didn't you say something sooner? My top is ruined."
"Sorry, Clara." Lyle looked extremely sorry. "It's just, I don't remember you having- those- before."
Katie almost said 'I just got them', but instead stuck them out a few more inches and smiled Clara's sexiest smile. "Like 'em?"
Lyle could only nod his head vigorously.
"Want to help me clean my top?" Katie nodded toward the bathroom.
"Oh yeah."
"C'mon then. Gimme two minutes." Katie slipped out of the booth and into the bathroom, spending the two minutes admiring her rack from every possible angle in the mirror. On paper it had looked pretty much like your average comic babe bustline, but in the flesh -- and there was a lot of flesh for it to be in -- it was on a whole other level. If Clara had been mad at Katie for stooping before, well, it was a good thing she wasn't around now, as it took a positive act of concentration for Katie to keep heaving Clara's toned shoulders and back up straight against the weight of those fun bags. They were a ton of fun, for sure.
One thing still puzzled Katie, and she tested it again. Sure, it felt good to massage them, press her little hands into those big masses of satin-soft flesh, flick her fingertips across her nipples, but it wasn't anything like Clara with her growth spurt. What was the problem?
A furtive tap on the door interrupted her, and Katie skipped over to unlock the door without bothering to stuff herself back into her shirt. In fact, as Lyle slipped inside, she pulled the ketchupy thing over her head and pressed her bare torso into Lyle's with a force that knocked him back against the closed door. His hands found her breasts in a second -- not that they were hard to miss -- and their mouths found each other even faster.
Wed Jan 16 02:24:22 2008