Chapter 2

We had two hours for lunch, and we din't spend every lunch hour having sex. On Thursday, having distributed the deposit slips, I queued up the tapes and films, and began merging and editing. We had a 29 minute broadcast on Friday night, and a 59 minute one on Saturday. We weren't fools, we were in a cable outlet that was far far away from Virginia. Oh sure, there was probably some locals who saw it, but they would have to be the NSA or somebody like that.

That was one of the things about where we were. Still, Virginia was a reasonably big state, and we were sort of lost in the clutter. Theree was a large corporation that had a network that broadcast nothing but sex over the cable nets. They were always a target, which was why they probably had the best killer-attack lawyers in the business.

I had learned to watch the sex on the screen with a dispassionate eye. I know that people tell me girls aren't "visual", not like guys. We can watch a couple making it, and note the girl's lipstick and fingernail polish. Guys, I've been told, get caught up in the sex they're watching. I think the people who make such generalizations aren't looking at the scenes that I saw every time. Girls get turned on by watching, I think we imagine ourselves under the guy, and very few women I know don't appreciate a good-looking guy.

My head was full of images of naked bodies and aroused sex organs by the time I had to get to class. I did wonder what it would be like if I was as "visual" as a guy. I'd probably be so wet between the legs that my jeans would be visibly soaked. It was an amusing thought, one that made me smile through class.

One of the problems with being a girl is what happens in gym. I'm speaking of your boobs. I'm not flat-cheste, far from it. It's allowed me to take guys between my boobs, which feels good, and really gets guys off. Sure, that's wonderful, but also means tha my chest bounces up and down a lot when I do any sort of exercising. That's whey invented sports bras, but there's only so much they can do. With boobs the size of mine I have other problems, mainly in getting my clothes to fit.

Ever since my chest began to expand like I was some sort of Barbie, I've had girls openly envy my bosom. They don't have to buy clothes a size larger than what I should, and have it tailored. I'd tried the usual things girls try as I grew, including going on a diet that was little more than water and celery. The trouble is, bosom size comes from the father's side of the gne pool, specifically from his mother. I had no idea how large I was going to get because I didn't know who my father was. None of us did. I'm not even sure Mom did. She'd had Lois, and then after a couple of years off, had decided she wanted a son. Most women would have found a husband, but Mom had had bad luck plus there was something about the alimony if she got married again. Eventually she had Kevin, and got her tubes tied afterward, but I came along in-between (and so did Cheri), so...

What that meant was that I could stop at a D cup, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. I'd tried losing weight under the theory that I'd have less fat to go into my boobs, and it only made my bosom seem bigger as I had a small waist. Mom did tell me that she was pretty sure there was nothing congenital for me to worry about. I tended to believe her; she was as healthy as a woman could get.

I zoomed past a D cup, and it didn't take long for me to start flowing over the top of one. The girls inmy gym class notice (how could they not). It solved one problem for me: no one belied I got surgery or used fake boobs to get my size. It was obvious to everyone that I was growing these things on my own. My gym teacher, used to the problems of devoping girls, did what she could. She brought in a bra fitter, and one day, instead of exercising in the gym, we got properly fitted. This was eseiall important for us larger-bosomed grls.

I think the thing I hated was that until that bra fitter came in, the only support wear I ould find were these hideous harnesses that looked as ugly as sin. She got me into something fashionable that I could wear without looking disfigured. My boobs rewarded me by stopping their growth. In a way it was a relief.

Fashion designers, those who don't want every girl to be a Size 0, praise th "hourglass figure", the big hi and chest, with the narrow waist. A girl is supposed to look more attractive with that kind of shape, and I've never believed the skinny, stick-figured girls were all that healthy. My own private opinion is that the fashion mavens who claim or praise that shape really want boys. However, that shape is now such a fixture in the fashion industry there's not much we can do about it, especially if we do have a shape.

I did have a shape, a quite pronounced one. I was popular, but I soon figured out it was just so they could dance and rub themselves against my boobs—boy got erections the longer the dance went on. I turned it into a virtue, though. I could take hard dicks between my rather generously-sized boobs. The "down side" was the rumor that went around the locker room that come made your boobs grow. Everyone had me rtty much figured for a virgin (!) so that rumor was soon put to rest, but it nagged at the back of my head. The last thing I wanted was for these things to get anylarger.

We get a lot from whoever our fathers were, but some things we got from our mother. Lois was as virginal as a recluse. I don't think sex entered her mind. She was in college, paid for by the settlement that Mom had gotten from her marriage. That settlement did not include any other kids Mom might have, so we had had to find other sources of income (which we had). Mom had always managed to find wakes to get by, so we'd inherited that from her.

We'd also inherited her sex drive. I'd read that one's sex drive was not a genetic thing, but given what Cheri and I liked to do, I had my doubts. It might be part of the whole atmosphere at home, but I had my doubts. Mom ran a household that would have been

Of cours there was Lois, and her lack of any sexual urges, or maybe she had them and kept them well hidden. Kevin, being a guy, had a "normal" drive for a guy. From what I could gather, that meant he was horny all of the time. That was sort of like me (and Cheri), so it could be argued that I had a guy's sex drive. I wondered what that said about most women.

The TV show was one of those things that got cooked up one night when we were sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves. We didn't have dates, though if we did they'd expect certain things from us. I wasn't adverse to a friendly screw, but I reallydidn't want to have a "relationship" with the guy. I liked the idea of nearly mindless sex, a roll in bed that was just for the pleasure it could bring.

Most girls figure out that they can trade access to their bodies for security, financial as well as physical. Sometimes this involves a passionless arrangement. Guys will go for this in a heartbeat, but soon learn that the girl wants her emotions involved.

I've been a great reader of books and magazines on the subject. I want to know what makes people tick, and one of the theories I've read over and over is that the female is emotional, and the man is logical.

That's a load of poppycock. Girls can be as logical as guys, look at all of the women in the field of I.T. Guys can be as emotional as girls, otherwise there wouldn' be anthems and marches that get guys all worked up. For that matter, look at the non-Western cultures where the men are crying and screaming in one emotional outburst after another.