Chapter 1

Mr. Humberg finally let us out of class. He'd kept us 5 minutes over, like he usually does, give or take. That left me only 5 minutes to try to get to the next class without being tardy. This was a daily source of annoyance and Mr. Humberg NEVER gave us passes.

Of course, it didn't help that Katie was so popular and always had to take it upon herself to sate the boys that would come on to her with cutesy little gestures, pleasant conversation, and promiscuous hands. Usually, if I hadn't completely zoned out in class, this would compound my frustration. Today was just one of those days where here popularity grated me.

The man of my dreams, Ken, from the football team, walked right up to Katie, so that their bodies would meet. I watched helplessly as my future husband's hands traced the curve of her back and slip under her shirt as he bid her a, "What's up BABY!"

Katie was less shy. I wouldn't have taken so casually to a man reaching under my clothes, but I suppose her comfortable attitude has something to do with experience. She certainly wasn't exactly a slut. She, like I, was 17 and her sexual experience extended somewhere to giving a few guys blowjobs and having sex with one of her boyfriends back when she wasn't single. That put her maybe a few blowjobs and her virginity ahead of me. I guess I'm kind of fooling myself since I'm pretty much at the starting line anyway.

I was not so fortunate, not so blessed as her and I spent a lot of the next hour thinking about it. The class was biology and quite an easy class in which to zone out completely. I mean, I was a good student, and in addition to my mild social popularity I managed to do well in the classroom. Usually, I'd read the chapter before the discussion, like the teacher wanted. Few people did so our teacher Ms. Friedheim would go over it and I would zone out for the period.

This wasn't the first time I'd zoned, thinking about my social woes with men. It wasn't easy to forget you were "flat" in the chest sitting next to Katie. I would look down at my own chest. It barely hinted at cleavage under the buttoned shirt I wore. The rest of my body was shapely and trim. If I had even average breasts or even on the low size of average, I would be the talk of the town in my beauty. Katie really was no help. I'd look at her and I knew I was in better shape, had a better over-all form, a prettier face, nicer hair and all the works, but she had the chest. Even if she did lag behind in all other fields of beauty, she had the most where it mattered, as far as the guys were concerned, by far.

From the slumber parties we'd both been to I knew she wore a C cup and with my eyes I could tell you she fit comfortably there. My pretty little face couldn't compete with the mammaries on Katie. Men simply spend more time looking and obsessing over breasts, at least the men I know, the men in High School.

Class crept along and casually I caught Miss Friedheim talking about the miracles of Meiosis. I fought the urge to yawn or fall instantly to slumber and simply breathed deep. I tried to rub the numbing tiredness from my eyes. I was having trouble keeping them open and focusing my eyes. In the process, an eyelash had rubbed off onto my finger.

'Oh the joy, ' I thought as I looked at the small hair posed on the end of my finger. This was something to make a wish on, something to pass the time, a harmless way for an idle girl to waste a moment or two. I must say it was God-sent entertainment at the time. I was intent and serious or bitter at least. I had the smallest, most unimpressive breasts in the class and today that was bothering me. Even Ms. Friedheim, who kids would joke about in a sexual light would crack at her small breasts, she who was pushing through her mid thirties sported a rack more impressive than mine.

'I wish had big breasts, bigger than all of these girls, bigger than Katie... maybe even twice the size. Breasts that could enthrall men, leave them begging at my feet, at my total control' I said to myself as I blew the lash off my finger. It was certainly a sad day.

Next came lunch, one of the lighter hours, where Katie and I would join Bianca, Jessie, and Hillary and sit at the opposite end as our male counterparts. We'd gossip and tell jokes. Usually this would raise my spirits and the rest of the day would be so much less irritating.

Even if Katie and I are best friends, Jessie probably makes me feel better. She has small breasts and is sort of the doll of the group. She's really nice and a proper Christian, the sort men don't flock towards. She's definitely the most empathic and I guess her lower rung on the social ladder assured me I could do worse even if she got to look up my skirt, at my vulnerabilities. She was trustworthy.

The order of the day was a nasty rumor about Bessie who'd apparently been caught doing something she shouldn't have with one of the black linemen in the boy's restroom. Bessie was a year older, a senior, and was also not the queen bee of our social order. This would be the end of her though, socially and we'd all be entertained for quite some time at her expense and the mutilation of whatever reputation and dignity she had left.

My next class was study hall with Jessie and certainly not adventure. We weren't allowed to talk so it blew. Again, with all my homework completed, I'd zone out most of the time until the bell told me it was time to go to my next class (and zone).

Today was different. Half way through the period I became aware that my nipples were aching, hard, and pressed against my shirt. I mean, its not unheard of, but when I shifted, I expected that to solve everything. My non-existent breasts would relocate under the ample void under my shirt. I shifted again and then looked to see what the problem was.

My breasts (or the area you would call my breasts, if I had any) was swollen and filled most of the space that normally existed down there and my nipples were making obscene little tents in my shirt. I tried to discretely fix the problem, but they turned to eraser heads in just moments. After I did this a second time, I decided not to draw too much attention to myself by continuing to grope my swollen chest.

My next class was European History or basically an utter complete bore. I dazed off again, thinking nothing of my swollen chest. I'd probably go away sooner or later I thought. Much to the opposite, a complete drama-looser re-alerted me to the bulging beneath my shirt. I heard him snickering and when I glanced at him he was staring right at my tits! Upon my own inspection, they looked bigger, significantly bigger. They filled the front of my shirt and made the thick woven material hug my flesh. My nipples still protested as if I was aroused. In the moments to come I shifted in my chair so Shakespeare, nor anyone would have such an embarrassing view of my condition.

When I sat down for English Grammar (yawn), I was glad only two hours remain in the day. Even if I wanted to pay attention to Ms. Gram, I don't think I could have. My breasts were still getting larger and this shirt was getting very tight. Fabric stretched and after 10 minutes of 7th hour, the buttons on the front of my shirt began to part and between them more and more flesh became visible. What was weird is the skin wasn't irritated at all, no quite the opposite. My chest wasn't swollen, I had breasts! There was a valley, deep with shadow, between voluptuous breasts. I could see the valley grow deeper and that stimulated increased excitement. I could see more and more between the buttons and then I had a sudden realization. The more my breasts were growing, the more space between the buttons appeared. The more space between, the more stress on the button and a few of them looked like they were ready to bust. There was still 20 minutes in class, 80 minutes left in the day, and I didn't know how much more my breasts were going to grow or how much more stress the buttons could take.