RETURN OF THE GOLDEN GOOSE

by Some Sort of Dog
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 4:- A Lie-In


 
 
  "How's it feel, Lyn?" Donna checked in her rear view mirror and glanced across at Lynda at the same time.
"Funny. It's been a whole year. It's probably nine months since my last bra got really too small. I feel as if I'm falling over forwards all the time."
"Mrs Danby was right, Lyn. What did you think you were doing, trying to wear that old thing?"
"I only made the shoulder straps longer. So I could wear it down round my waist. It fitted all right."
"It fitted where it touched you. It didn't hold you up at all."
The car purred along, cruising into the centre of the town. Donna looked out for a place to park in the High Street. At least, by this time on a Saturday afternoon, most of the crowds had melted away, leaving the streets populated by groups of younger people, loafing around, looking in the shops, greeting each other like long-lost friends, dropping in for a burger and a coffee.
Lynda watched them dully. "They all called me Droopy Doris at school."
"I'm not surprised," said Donna, preoccupied with parking. She regretted her instant response immediately and glanced at Lynda who was leaning back in the passenger seat. She was quite decently dressed in one of Donna's custom made shirts. It was a bit short in the sleeves, but there was plenty of room in the chest, so it sort of averaged itself out. It would do until Mrs D sent a new one over on Monday.
The engine rattled to a stop and Donna clambered out. "We make a fine pair," she thought, watching Lynda unfold herself from the front seat and stand up uncertainly. Donna herself was a familiar sight in the town. Everyone still stared at her, but she no longer took any notice. Besides, she received instant attention in all the shops. It was a bit different today, though.
One little girl with a stupendous bust was worthy of a stare or two. When she was accompanied by a girl as striking as Lynda, the impact was enough to stop the traffic. Lynda was head and shoulders taller than Donna. Her white slacks had been tight on her even before their substantial breakfast and lunch. They now left literally nothing to the imagination. Further up, Lynda was a clear reminder that a shortfall of almost twenty inches in bust measurement compared to her little girlfriend mattered little when it meant the difference between a staggering ninety-six inches and a mere seventy-seven.
Donna's bra was designed to minimise her endowment, to hold her breasts in and to her sides: to enable her to walk! Lynda's seventy-seven inches just stuck right out there. Mrs Danby hadn't been entirely happy with the effect. The other bra had been better, holding Lynda in beautifully, but this one had gone somehow wonky. They had all laughed when Lynda had first tried it on.
"Oh, my goodness!" Mrs Danby had exclaimed. "That's what comes of working against the clock. Never mind. The other one's a bit less extreme. This one won't be quite so perky after a few days."
Needless to say, Lynda chose the perky one for her first trip into town. Her uncertainty seemed to have left her. She held herself proudly, smiling at everyone, meeting the stares boldly. She oozed sex. Literally.
"I'm really wet, Don!" she giggled, as soon as they sat down with a couple of Cokes at a cafe with umbrellas outside. "It's the way they're all looking at me."
"Droopy Doris? Look at you. Yours look even bigger than mine! That's a weird feeling for a girl with an eight-foot bust!"
"Eight foot? What's that?"
"God! About 244 centimetres! As if you didn't know."
"I know. I just wanted to hear you say it. Where's all these boys you said we could have? They're all girls round here." Lynda's whisper seemed to carry right across the street and echo off the shops on the opposite side.
"Sshh! They'll be along once they know where we've gone. They were following us just now. Gary and Paul."
Lynda craned her neck, in search of her prey. "Are these them?" "Don't stare. They're coming over."
"Which is which? And which one's mine?" Lynda said with a nudge.
"Either. Just play it by ear."
It's all right for you, Don. It's been a long time since I've done this."
You wouldn't have thought so. By the time half an hour had passed, Gary and Paul, or Paul and Gary, had seen the girls back to their car.
"See ya later, right?"
"Don't be late. Nine o' clock."
"Okay."
"And don't forget the booze."
 
 
  "They're asleep, Don! This is ridiculous!"
"I know." Donna bit her lip. The boys were sprawled in the front room. Paul was on the settee, out for the count, Gary was on the floor, entangled with Rachel. "I don't know how to get rid of them."
"Get rid of them? I thought we wanted to get them into bed."
"They'll be no use like this. They must have had a skinful before they came over. I knew nine was too late." Donna raised Paul's eyelid. It fell with a decisive thud. We can't even get a taxi. It's after midnight, and it would cost tons to get one right out here at this time of night."
"It's only half past twelve. We could wait 'til they wake up."
Donna yawned. She was dog tired. "I'm going to let Rachel out." She opened the door, and the dog scrambled up, stretched, shook herself awake and, tail wagging, sprang out into the darkness. Gary never even stirred. "Let's get a couple of blankets and cover them up. We'll run them home in the morning." She looked at them fondly. "We picked a right couple of duds here."
"Have you had them before?" Lynda asked. She bent over Gary's crumpled form, inspecting him minutely. Bent over like that, her breasts almost touched the boy's face.
"Only Paul. He was okay. I suppose."
"How big?" Lynda whispered, holding her hands a short way apart, then expanding the distance hopefully, like an angler."
"God knows! I can never see how big they are. My tits are always in the way. Big enough." Lynda groaned. "Oh, shit. Just my fucking luck. I really fancied it tonight."
"Perhaps I ought to call Dave and James from Bristol!"
"Don't joke about it, Donna," said Lynda dangerously. "I am seriously horny." She tried to get a hand down inside the front of her slacks, but they were far too tight. She settled for a rub from the outside, chewing her lip and closing her eyes. Poor Lynda was in a bad way.
"Come on, let's get these blankets. If they have a good sleep, they might wake up before morning and come and give us a good seeing-to." They fetched blankets from the airing cupboard, and covered the boys.
"They look quite cosy," said Lynda longingly. "I almost want to curl up with them. Which one do you fancy?"
"I told you. You can choose." Rachel bounded in and headed for her sleeping quarters without a word. Donna closed the back door and locked it.
"I don't know. I don't want to steal yours."
"You wouldn't be stealing mine. I'm not fussy."
"Just say which one you want, Don!" They were edging out of the living room, turning out the light, heading for the bedrooms.
"I told you. Either." She swallowed. "Or neither."
"Neither?"
Donna nodded.
"You mean you'd rather just go to sleep?"
Donna shook her head.
Lynda gave a great big grin. "Why couldn't you just say so, you little duffer?"
Within seconds, they were in Donna's room, their fingers feverishly tearing at their buttons, zippers and bra hooks.
 
 
  "They've gone, Lyn!"
"Gone? The boys?"
"Yeah. The blankets are neatly folded. They've even cleared up the empty bottles. But they've gone."
"What's the time?"
"Seven. Rachel was making horrible noises, so I let her out. She wanted to be sick. They'd been gone a while, I felt the settee and the floor. Both cold."
"Did we imagine them, do you think?"
They both giggled. "Are you getting up?" Donna asked. She felt acutely aware of the size of her nipples, although she couldn't even begin to see them.
"Getting up? At seven o' clock? In your dreams, lover!"
"Good. I always like a lie-in on Sunday mornings, before church."
"Church? We have to go to church?"
"Only if you want to. I thought you might have something to confess. If not, we can just stay in bed until twelve."
"Wow! Only another five hours. You'd better get back in here then. It's nice and cosy. And bring those monsters with you!"
 
 
  "Will they tell, do you think?"
Donna raised her face from Lynda's tangled thatch. "Mmmm?"
"Those boys. Will they tell everybody?"
"That they picked up a couple of huge-titted lezzies?"
"I beg your pardon. Speak for yourself."
"I was. Vast-breasted lezzies, if we include you."
"That's better. They won't say a word to anyone. How are they going to admit that they went to a party with a couple of girls, with fourteen feet of bust between them ..."
"What's fourteen ...?"
Donna adjusted the cups of her too-tight bra. They had both put their bras on at about eight that morning because of the appalling discomfort of wild and abandoned love-making without them.
"Four hundred and forty-something centimetres," Donna translated. "Are they going to admit that they fell asleep and let the girls go to bed and make love at the tops of their voices for the whole of the night?"
"The tops of our voices?"
"When did you ever come quietly, young Lynnie?"
Lynda clapped her hand over her mouth in horrified delight. "Oh, shit! Did I?"
"I expect I did, too. The boys call me the foghorn. Not very polite, but apparently accurate. Lynda?"
"Yeah?"
"You're sopping wet down here."
"So are you up here."
"Ah, good. You won't be thirsty, then. I won't bother getting up to make the tea, in that case. Cheers, love!"
"Mmmmnfffh!"
Donna shuddered with pleasure and looked at the clock. Only half past three. It wouldn't be bedtime again for another ten hours. She sat up. "Ouch!" Lynda's protest was muffled, as well it might have been, with Donna's bottom straddling her face. Even a small bottom like Donna's was capable of making quite an impression on a girl's face when it was being weighed down by a pair of breasts as big as Donna's.
"Time to get up. This bed stinks," Donna announced.
"So does your soggy hairy arse," Lynda muttered, coming up for air and plucking fine curly hairs from her tongue.
"It's all very well for you. I've been under the duvet for the last five hours, with only your rear end for company."
They squirmed into a more suitable position and kissed each other, open mouthed.
"Mmmmm! That's tasty, Don!"
"That's you, Lynnie! Now, what do you fancy for breakfast? How about kippers?"
 
 
  "Oh, yes. Do that. And that! And THAT! Wooo, yessss!"
Kay and Rick, Mr and Mrs Danby — not necessarily in that order, lay back panting. The sea breeze lifted the net curtain and carried the sounds of the beach into the honeymoon suite.
"I thought four-poster beds were supposed to be solid things that didn't squeak." Kay sloshed champagne into a glass and dipped a finger into it. She applied a drop to Rick's nose. "The entire hotel will know what we're doing up here."
"I thought that's what we were supposed to be doing: making babies." He licked her finger, sucked it deep into his mouth.
"We've already made one, darling, remember? As soon as this holiday's over, I'll have to give up drinking champers in bed. Hic!"
"Start the way you mean to carry on, that's what I always say. In the good old days, you would have been a scarlet woman, a shameless hussy. You'd never have had the nerve to get married in white."
"Off-white. And it isn't as if we had a huge church wedding with the organist and choir, bells and bridesmaids. Imagine if we'd had Charlotte and Donna following me down the aisle! One of them a foot taller than the other! Bride and two attendants with a total bust measurement of something like twenty-seven feet!"
"Sounds okay to me!"
"Anyway, who are you calling a shameless hussy? I'm only a couple of months gone. It will be another whole month before I start growing the way Charlotte did. Then HUMUNGOUS! will be able to do a six- month feature on me, getting bigger every month. I hope you're looking forward to that, lover!"
"Surely you won't get as big as Charlotte!" Rick gasped. "I never thought ..."
"If I do, I do. Nothing we can do about it. At least, we know someone who makes excellent foundation garments. Have another sippers — the sooner we finish these last two bottles, the sooner we can send for some more. It seems to do things for your performance. What's the time?"
"Four or so. We've only been in bed seventeen hours."
"I'm hungry. Let's go for a swim," Kay decided. Throwing back the bed covers, she went to the window and stood looking out over the promenade and beach. Despite the early season, there were still crowds of day-trippers strolling about in the warm sunshine. She took a deep breath, feeling her bare nipples pressing against the glass. If anyone had chanced to look up, they would have been most impressed with the view.
"The sea's too cold," Rick objected, lying back and watching her, awestruck.
"We'll go in the pool. Dig my swimsuit out of the case." Kay sloshed more champagne into her glass and fumbled with the window catch. "Ah, success!" She slid the window back and stepped out on to the balcony. "Wow, you can see for miles from out here," she called. "Right up and down the beach."
"You'll be right down the nick if anybody sees you flashing your tits out there."
"Serves them right. They shouldn't be looking." She leaned hopefully over the balcony, hoisting her breasts in both arms and peering through the gap between them. "Peek-a-boo!" she called. "They're all deaf down there. Wheeeee!" She lowered her breasts and waved frantically with both arms, before tumbling back into the room, giggling.
"Somebody waved to me!" she gasped, enthralled, biting her lip.
"You little exhibitionist! Who was it?"
"Just some blokes in a builder's van. One of them happened to look up, then suddenly three of them were leaning out of the van window. It just missed one of those fancy lamp posts." Kay planted a little wet kiss on Rick's nose. "Come on, move your arse and let's go for a swim. It's good for the appetite."
"I'm beginning to wonder what I've married. I thought you were a shy, quiet little girl, not the sort of slut who waves her breasts at passing builders from the balcony of a five-star hotel in a respectable seaside town." He was rummaging through Kay's suitcase, looking for one of his mother's custom two-piece swimsuits. "Is this it?" He held up a scrap of fluorescent green material.
"That's the bottom half. The top is a bit bigger."
Rick tossed the pants at his wife and went searching again."Not much bigger," he exclaimed, coming up with two triangles of the same material joined by a few feet of green string. "You're not seriously going to wear this in public, are you?"
"I don't see why not." She hung the string round her neck. "Which way up does it go, darling? Mother told me how to put it on, but you know the way she gives instructions. Is that right?"
It was a halter style bikini top. The two triangles were arranged to more or less cover both her areolae but precious little else. Kay was fumbling with the lower string, the one intended to be tied round the back. She offered the two loose ends to Rick, and he tied them in a bow.
"Turn round, let's have a look."
Each triangle was about six inches wide at its base, and perhaps three feet long from base to apex, where it was attached to a loop of string which went up round Kay's neck. Most of each triangle was permanently hidden, trapped beneath the weight of her breasts. Her nipples protruded stiffly through the shiny material, way, way down on her stomach. From the front, Kay's breasts were effectively bare, apart from a relatively small area right at the bottom. The bikini pants were effectively invisible from the front, covered by her hugely pendulous.breasts. They were invisible from the back, too, unless you were prepared to go digging for the string.
"You look obscene, darling!"
"I know. I wouldn't dare wear it if I were sober. Come on, let's go down." She picked up two enormous stripy beach towels and draped them strategically about her. You never knew who you might meet in an elevator.
Rick, meanwhile, had pulled on his own shorts and had wandered over to the window to take in the view.
"Darling!" He turned back from the window in horror. "Come over here a minute."
"What is it?" Kay joined him on the balcony, and gasped. "Oh, shit!" She began to giggle helplessly. Down below, a crowd of perhaps two hundred people, men, women and children, were standing patiently gazing upwards. As soon as Kay appeared, a great cheer went up, and every last one of them waved their arms above their heads.
Some of the crowd was moving away: women were dragging their protesting husbands and boyfriends away from the disgraceful spectacle. But as fast as one couple moved off, twenty more took their place. Already, a police siren could be heard whooping down the promenade. Cameras had appeared, some of them with those enormous off-white telephoto lenses. Either the paparazzi had been tipped off, or the press were very quick off the mark round here.
"I think we'd better make ourselves scarce, sweetheart," said Rick, dragging Kay inside. She went reluctantly, waving to her admirers, jiggling her mammoth breasts from side to side. And as soon as Rick, panting with the effort, let go of her arm, she darted back out again to hang her breasts over the balcony. In a final triumphant gesture, she picked up the last champagne bottle and shook it up, aiming it out over the heads of the crowd like a racing driver.
And lo, it rained champagne.
 
 
  end Chapter 4