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The Chronicle of Angela Bonnet - by Merkava IV

Page history last edited by Rob Classact 12 years, 9 months ago

The Chronicle of Angela Bonnet

by Merkava IV


I met Angela Bonnet when I moved to Seattle at the end of my 6th grade year. My father had just gotten promoted and that meant moving away from all of my friends and going to live in a new city. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy, but I was insightful enough even in my youth to realize that what is good for my dad will be good for me in the long run. I just didn’t like leaving every one I knew back in Montana.

Now I was in sixth grade and at my new school that was the first year of middle school. Angela was my next door neighbor and she was enjoying playing “softball“. That is actually how I met her. She was playing with some of the other neighborhood kids (all the rest were boys) and she was pretty good. I had managed to summon up the courage to go ask if I could join in too and they put me on a team with her and a couple other young boys.

This was street ball and we were playing with a tennis ball instead of a real ball (harder to break windows that way), and it really put a handicap on the stronger kids, as there is only so much distance a tennis ball will go. For this reason, Angela was pretty good, she was a good contact hitter. She could hit the ball well, but she just didn’t have the muscle of some of the bigger kids. Still, I was impressed with her athletic ability. Where I had just come from in Montana there weren’t any athletic girls, and to have one on your team in a game like this would have been insulting.

Angela on the other hand was easily as good as I was that day. She had better discipline at the plate and while I could hit the ball farther, she got more contact. To say she was a tomboy was an understatement. She was very much into sports, football, basket ball, but especially baseball and softball. She was also not very girl like. Kind of pudgy in the middle, and short, maybe four foot eight inches, but with a cute face and auburn hair kept back in a ponytail that went to her shoulders. She was also very competitive and equipped with a sharp wit. It became apparent that day though that she was a regular at these games, and part of the “in crowd” among the younger neighborhood boys.

Because of our common interests we became friends of a sort as the school year wound down and spent a good deal of time together. We weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend friends, as that was still a little above out level at the time, we just hung out together. All in all it was a good thing. She joined the girls softball team that the school had put together and because of her good skill was the only 6th grader to get onto the second team, although she didn’t really get to play much. I played base ball and rode the pine all season with maybe six or seven at bats, all in situations that by virtue of the games score were unimportant.

I guess I could tell you a little about my self as this is a chronicle of Angela and I. I am six foot one, 190, sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and working on my second year out of college as a junior architect for a small housing design firm. I am pretty good looking I guess, and I keep in pretty good shape. By virtue of my job I make a descent living, and I should bring down about 50 thousand dollars this year. All in all I don’t think I’m a bad catch but I‘m not the cat‘s meow either. Back then however, well, I was pretty small for my class. Five foot nothing, I was taller than Angela, but that was about it in my neighborhood, and that didn’t last for long.

School ended and the summer began. Homework was forgotten and the daily grind of school faded as June blended into July. The other thing that started fading was my height advantage over Angela, who grew four inches over the summer. It’s interesting to me now, because at the time, I didn’t think much of it. Then in late August, during a pretty intense heat wave for the north west, Angela invited me to the beach with her family. That was the first time I really remember seeing her in a swim suit. She was a different person, and she knew it.

By this point we were fast friends, and we talked a lot, but she had never shown off like she did that day. Five foot tall Angela had lost most of her baby fat around the middle and replaced it with the soft curves of an active seventh grader, while her breasts which before hadn’t existed had shown up almost over night.

Whoa,” was my first comment when she came over from her house in a pair of cut-off shorts over just her one piece suit. Her towel was draped over her left shoulder and she had her sun kissed hair in its perennial pony tail, although it was longer and more red than auburn now than it had been.

She blushed at my simple comment and said, “Hey Tommy, you ready to hit the beach?”

Sure, let me grab my towel.”

I guess I was a lecherous little boy, but I couldn’t get over how much different she looked now. Where had this young woman come from? Why hadn’t I seen her before? As we spent the day at the beach, I couldn’t get over the fact that little Angie Bonnet was now almost as tall as me, and with a whole lot better body than she had had only a few months earlier.

The trip to the beach was the high point of my summer prior to 7th grade. As August wound to a close and school once again loomed on the horizon, we saw less of each other. It wasn’t that we were growing apart, it was just that we were busy getting ready. My parents took me shopping for school clothes and supplies, we went on a late summer vacation to Yosemite and then it was into school we went. Being that this was my first full year at a new school, I decided to try something new and go out for the football team. Needless to say, five foot one inch boys don’t get much playing time. Like baseball the year before, I rode the pine. Angela played soccer and did pretty well, earning a spot on the Varsity team, although she didn’t get much playing time either.

I found it ironic that right as football started finishing up, puberty decided to hit me with a vengeance. From November to January I grew almost four inches and suddenly I wasn’t the shortest boy in the seventh grade class. Angela on the other hand stayed pretty much the same, fleshing out a little, but not really growing any. By the time baseball season rolled around I was five-five and vying for a shot on the varsity squad, or at least a starting spot on the JV team. Angie on the other hand made varsity softball and managed to play quite a bit at third base. She and I had a little competition going, who could end the season with the highest stats. She ended up winning, with a .311 batting average and only one error at third base, while I batted .297 with no errors in right field. The main difference was that she started varsity, and me, well I was a part timer on the JV team.

I should take a moment to talk about grades. I have never been a very strong student. People say I am very smart, but I don’t like to apply myself to studying. Didn’t in junior high, didn’t in High school (though I did better), didn’t really in college (although in college, at least there was the motivation that I was paying for it so I had better at least try), and I really don‘t now. Angela on the other hand was a straight A student. Sacrifices for the sake of her athletics and academics were far more acceptable to her than they were to me. She ended the year with a great GPA and a standing invite to the Varsity Softball team for 8th grade next year.

Ah, the summer of my 8th grade year. That was a time to remember for me. I kept growing just like I had in the end of seventh grade and by early September was almost five foot ten. Angela grew up about an inch and a half I think, but what was really noticeable about her was that her shoulders widened and her hips broadened out considerably. Her body looked almost manly from the shoulders to the top of her waist, but from there on it was pretty obvious she wasn’t “one of the guys”, even if she acted like it around the neighborhood.

We spent a lot of time together that summer, and I found my self growing somewhat more attached to her than “just” a friend probably should. Her personality was right up my alley and she was looking really good, even if I did like bigger breasts than she had (what guy in the midst of puberty doesn‘t like large breasts?). Some things can be sacrificed for the greater good. Her face had become more mature and her complexion glowed. At that point in my life however I was too worried about being rejected and wrecking our friendship to risk broaching the subject of “asking her out”. So I just lusted after her from afar.

When school started up again I once again went out for the football team, but this time I made a starting varsity spot. Angela ran for the cross country team and did okay, but her short stature didn’t help her much in running. Toward the end of cross country season she started growing again, and by years end she was almost five foot two. She played basketball but she learned quickly that she simply wasn’t cut out for that game at her height, Spud Webb she was not. I went out for wrestling and had a good time once I got over the “men in spandex singlets” phobia I had. I didn’t place, but I decided that I would probably do it again in High school.

Two months before the baseball season started Angie came over to my house in the evening to discuss a proposition. Wrestling season was in mid swing, as was basketball, but both of us were lackluster performers in our respective sports.

Tommy, what are you doing after wrestling practice on weeknights?” she asked after I asked her in from the front door.

Um, nothing. What’s up?” was my standard adolescent boy response, especially in the presence of some one you have a secret crush on. Did I mention she was good looking? Oh man, she had just come from basketball practice and her hair was all messed up. Women hate that, but like most men, I think its down right sexy.

Well, I know that baseball is your sport of choice, and softball is mine, I was just thinking that we could get together maybe a couple nights a week and, you know, hit the ball around. We could even use a baseball. It would be better for my eye-hand coordination. It would also help me learn to throw better.”

She had this pleading sort of look on her face, like if I said no it would hurt her feelings some how. I love baseball, I have even grown to love the Mariners, and I had a crush on this girl. How was I going to say no to this opportunity?

Uh, that would be great. I get done with wrestling at 4:30. Hey doesn’t it get dark kinda early for us to practice after school though?” I asked.

Her green eyes flashed at me for a moment, “I was thinking we could use the field lights while the walkers use the track at the high school at night. That and maybe go out on Saturdays to the field too. Of course only if you are interested. I’ll be honest though, I don’t think basketball is for me, so I am trying to get a head start on the season this year.”

Yeah, I hear you, I’m not doing so well at wrestling either. I think that’s mainly because I don’t have as much experience as these other kids though. Some of these kids have been wrestling since third grade.” I said in an exasperated tone.

Well, I am good enough to play with the rest of the girls, I just don’t have the height.” she said looking up at me from the couch to where I stood by the doorway into the living room. Seeing her sitting there exaggerated the size difference between us.

Don’t worry about your height, I think you look good just the way you are.” No sooner had I said that than I wanted to take it back. It wasn’t intended to be a complement so much as a comfort, but it had just sounded wrong, and my skin started reddening from it almost immediately.

If Angela noticed my slip she let it go in stride. “Thanks Tommy, but I would still like to be a little taller. Any way, what do you say, tomorrow after wrestling practice we meet at the high school stadium. Say around 4:45?” she said as she rose from the sofa.

Sure. I can do that.” I answered. She brushed past me as she headed to the door. Ah, just to touch her was enough for me. I was a hormonal mess, I admit it.

We met every other day from then on till the start of the season, we were at the football field hitting flies, fielding flies, throwing the ball back and forth, pitching at each other. It was a blast, and I got to see Angie every day. I really respected her more as an athlete too. She was every bit as good as I was on defense, better in some ways, and her contact hitting was much better than mine. The only areas I had an advantage over her in was my top speed, arm strength, and hitting power. She also was a quick learner and by the time the season started she was throwing a wicked curve that had me guessing most of the time.

Baseball my 8th grade year was a dud. I broke my leg in the first game and missed the whole season. Angela on the other hand put the hard work we did together to good use. She lead the softball team in every offensive category except home runs, and played flawlessly at shortstop, her new position. I cheered her on at every home game. Mid way through the season however I developed a jealous streak when she started dating a new kid at school that year named Geoff Thomas.

Geoff was nothing like Angela, or me for that matter. He was into dark music and would really fall into the Goth crowd I think. They didn’t really have any thing in common and her parents hated him. The relationship, like nearly every one in 8th grade was doomed to fail, and it did, just before the season ended. Still it got my blood pumping. I was pretty protective of her and I think she noticed because after her short lived fling with Geoff, she kind of kept her distance for a few weeks. In hind sight I guess I overstepped my bounds. Nothing really happened, they got to first base but that was it, so I found out later.

By the summer of her freshman year, our friendly relationship was back on solid terms, and I decided to make a concerted effort to control my emotions more and in particular my envious nature. I also got to watch as Angela blossomed into a woman. She shot upward to about five foot four inches and lost nearly all her remaining baby fat, while her hips broadened. While the net result of this was a leaner more toned young woman, the unfortunate side effect of the growth and the loss of her baby fat was that her pert breasts all but vanished, especially on her frame. Still she was comfortable in her skin, and I still thought she was gorgeous.

Our relationship changed some how over that summer. She started hanging out with her girl friends more, wearing her hair more fetchingly and in general trying to be more attractive and less of a tom boy. I became the guy friend she used as a sounding board. She would ask me all sorts of questions that most guys wouldn’t get to answer, including some that made me some what uncomfortable. On the other hand, I got to learn a lot about her exact physiology, and among the things I learned were the coveted measurements. I find it interesting that I remember them so well. I guess it might be because I wrote them down in a log book of sorts (I refuse to call it a journal or even worse, a diary). What were those dimensions you ask? Well I shall answer; 32A-24-36 and on a five foot four inch 120 pound frame, it was a nice package indeed.

School brought the return of athletics to our lives. I once again went out for football where I made the practice squad, while Angela once again ran Cross Country. She said she loved the solitary competitiveness of it, and her athletic gifts overcame her small stature and helped her do pretty well. She just missed out on an invitation to the district tournament. I just noticed how it toned her legs. When winter rolled around she gave basket ball one more try, but now that she was in high school it was obvious that she couldn’t compete with the junior and senior girls, and she finished the season shooting baskets with the “C Squad”. I on the other hand did rather well at wrestling, going to the regional tournament and doing pretty well there. What really meant a lot to me on that day was the fact that Angela came to watch me wrestle.

The real event that year though was the spring baseball season. I made the JV squad as a freshman (not too shabby really) but Angela made varsity softball team and beat out a Senior to play third base for the second half of the season. I got to see most of her home games, and she was very impressive. Her hitting suffered a little at the hands of bigger, faster, stronger defenses, but her fielding was outstanding. She leapt right into the big city papers when the team went to districts that year on the strength of one particularly big play in the 8th inning of an extra innings match up that preserved the win for her team. While the teams success stalled in the district tourney, her coach took a special interest in her, seeing her as a big part of the future of the schools softball program.

At her coaches request (and it really didn’t take much arm twisting) Angela hit the weight room three times a week all summer, and on off days spent most of her time running or doing agility drills, seemingly any thing that she could think of to improve her game. She once again enlisted my help to get some extra help in the hitting department. Not that I was a stellar hitter, but I knew baseball and I knew how to pitch, and she wanted the help. Who was I to refuse a girl who had all of my interests in mind and a body to boot? That summer she also seemed to grow into her shortstop roll a considerable bit more, hitting five foot seven, and in spite of the weight training tacked on another inch in the hips, while she lost one in the waist (not to mention gaining a very nice set of feminine abs)!

School stated again and my high school football career was looking up when I started every JV game at the wide receiver position, but that was not the half of it for me. I got to see the girl I lust after go on to do great things in her fall sport. The cross country coach got a pleasant surprise when she started running that fall. she blazed around the course, setting a new school record that year and helping the team to the state tournament where she came in second. In the winter she tried something new, and at the same time gave me quite a bit of discomfort when she went out for the wrestling team. She was awkward on the mat, but her low center of gravity gave her an advantage on the floor and in take downs. She didn’t do great, but it was invaluable experience for her.

Wrestling made Angela even leaner right before softball season rolled around. Oh and what a season she had. At 5’7” and a half and 137 pounds, she was a defensive monster, and her hitting had improved enough for her to earn the team MVP and the school student athlete award, not to mention taking the team to the regional tournament. She had earned a cheering section of boys who seemed to come to her games just to see her perfect butt seemingly poured into her tight softball pants. She also did something she had never done before, something only two other girls in the league did that year, both of them seniors; she hit a ball out of the park for a home run.

Over the summer she continued to pack the weight on the bar, while taking a more academic approach to the dynamics of hitting a baseball far. She worked out to gain some more mass, as well as more strength to add some more kinetic energy to her swing. When she grew four inches between June and November, she didn’t complain, as the longer arms would increase the speed of the bat where it met the ball. But much to my delight, she also was paid a visit from the breast faerie, who left her that summer with, in her own words a “large C cup”. Some times it was nice to be a trusted guy friend, even if I felt kind of like a cretin for lusting after her too. She loved her new boobs too though, and she dressed to show them off some in the late summer months. With a 36C-23-39 body, there wasn’t much I could do but stare when she did that.

The four inches she gained in height came almost entirely from the hips down, which made surpassing her previous school record a snap, and she set a new state high school record for women’s cross country. Football for me was good, I finally made the varsity squad as a wide receiver and I caught 31 passes that season in seven games (I had to sit out home coming sick in bed with a stomach virus, ugh), and scored 3 touchdowns. Still I couldn’t hold a candle to Angie’s accomplishments, as she also went to state for wrestling that year (not many guys are 5’11” 142 pounds and have a center of gravity as low for there height as she did). She got second for her weight class, while I made fourth, but we both contributed to the wrestling teams state title that year.

Baseball season came and with it returned my jealous streak. Angela had a new beau, this time it was senior quarterback (my proverbial boss on the football field) Jack Holladay and unlike last time, I could tell she had fallen for a man, hook, line and sinker. It didn’t effect her game but it sure effected mine. I used my jealousy as a focus and while my batting average sagged, my power hitting surged. Some times a little anger focused in the right way can be a good thing. I lead the team in strike outs my junior year, but I also tied for the lead in Home runs and RBIs. Angela on the other hand had no deficiencies any where. She was perfect at Shortstop, and lead the league in every offensive category. Her skill single handedly carried her team to the state tournament, but in the final inning of the regional championship game that would take the team to state she pulled her hamstring rounding third base and couldn’t play in the state game. With out her power on offense the team pulled up lame at state and lost 4 to 2.

Now I am going to digress a bit from my tale of Angela growing up to go into her relationship with Jack and tell you how and where he messed up. Jack was the prototypical high school jock. He got so-so grades, lifted weights a lot, drank a lot of beer, and generally had a reputation as a lady killer. Angela had a reputation as some one who was hard to get. She was also undeniably the tightest girl in school as far as how she was built. All of this was just that much more of a reason to stroke his ego trying to bed down the hard to get athlete.

What he didn’t count on was the fact that Angie was a very driven girl, and she liked to be encouraged when she did well (something that both I and also her parents had always done) and told when she messed up. After she got hurt in her junior year, all she wanted was some encouragement to get back into the saddle and try to overcome it and improve. Jack did the opposite, trying to dissuade her from continuing her athletic pursuits. Big mistake Jack-o. All he accomplished was to turn her off completely by the time the next school year started, and what a mistake that turned out to be for him.

Angela really started growing into her frame her senior summer. She was wearing a E cup bra by the time cross country started, and while she loved her breasts (and the fact that they made boys heads turn like they were on swivels), she wasn’t too keen on the way they reacted to her myriad vigorous physical activities. She also topped the six foot mark, reaching six foot one and passing me in height for the first (and only as I never caught up) time. Her senior summer also marked the first time she started doing yoga in an effort to make sure she never repeated her injury. Her time in cross country was a few seconds better than her previous seasons time, setting a new personal record and breaking her own state record. By the time wrestling season rolled around her unstoppable bosom had reached the double EE cup range and she won several matches by forfeit when boys refused to wrestle her, no doubt because they were both intimidated by her and apprehensive of her ballooning breasts. She went on to take her weight class in wrestling that year all the way to the state tournament where she won.

She confided in me just before softball season that she was an F cup now, and concerned about they way her breasts seemed to be growing non stop. She was worried about how they would effect her performance at the plate, and she already knew that they slowed her down on the base paths, but she wasn’t sure how she would do defensively. She then asked me the hardest question I think I have ever had to answer.

Do you think they are too big?” she said, motioning to her breasts, as if she would be referring to any thing else.

Was I just imagining the rivulets of sweat trickling down my face? Did she notice the shades of red I felt my self turning? Could she possibly understand how hard this was for me to answer with sincerity? Here I am, a big breast fan among big breast fans, living out a dream as a confidant of the bustiest woman I had ever seen, and she wanted me to answer objectively. What the hell could I say? I didn’t know if it was the right card to play, but it was the only one I could think of. I gave her my honest opinion.

I think you are a beautiful woman Angela, and I think no matter how you end up you will always be a picture of beauty. Your breasts are just a part of the beauty, but you need to be comfortable with who you are. They are a part of you, and you are the only one who can really say if they are too big or not.” I felt like I had slit my own throat. As soon as I uttered those words I felt really dumb, and my face felt as though it had just turned even redder.

Then however she did something odd. She smiled at me, with this absolutely disarming, wonderful smile and with those cool emerald green eyes and fiery red hair, paralyzed me like a deer trapped in the headlights of a Kenworth Semi doing ninety. And then, with out any warning, hitting me much like that Kenworth, she gave me a long hug with those strong arms of hers mashing her wonderful breasts into my chest. I was in a brief period of absolute bliss, caught totally off guard and loving it. Then alas, it ended. But for just a moment, I was almost in a perfect in utero sense of peace.

Back to reality and baseball season. Most of her worries were overcome with a real masher of a sports bra and she went on to her best season yet. Then again, most girls in 12th Grade weren’t six foot three inches tall with a fitness models physique (minus the boobs) either. As such she set state records in almost every offensive category, and was a high school All American, as well as Student Athlete of the Year for the state of Washington. She was most proud of the fact that she hit more home runs (11) than any one else in the league that year, boy or girl, baseball or softball. Her efforts and grades also won her an athletic scholarship to just about any school with an NCAA Softball program.

Fortunately for me she chose the school I was accepted too, on the auspice of staying close to home, and decided to attend the University of Washington. Once again, I would get to see and lust after her from afar for another four years. She had decided that she wanted to teach and coach softball, and what better place to do that than high school? So she would attend the UW and when she had completed she wanted to try to get a job teaching at her high school alma matter. Who was I to discourage her, far from it, I encouraged her to go for it, pursue her dreams and if she decided she liked something different along the way, well go after that too! I guess I am all about empowerment.

She practically spent the entire summer in some form of exercise program or another, making herself a fixture at the local gym and chiseling her body into a finely honed tool with one purpose; to absolutely crush a softball in every way, shape or form. When she wasn’t at the gym, she was doing yoga, or running, or doing some kind of drill or another with her high school coach, all in an attempt to knock the socks off the team when they showed up for fall ball. That summer was also the fist time in a long while where she didn’t seem to get bigger in any dimension. To her it was a relief to have finally grown into her self, and have a chance to get used to her frame for once.

That comfort was short lived however, for almost as soon as she started school she started growing again. Concerned that she might have some kind of hormonal imbalance, she checked in with the universities sports medicine department, who after consultation referred her to a couple of specialists. The first was an orthopedic specialist who took a number of x-rays of several places in her body, and the second was an endocrinologist who did a variety of tests including an MRI and some blood draws.

The news from the bone doctor was mixed. Yes, she was normal, she was just a genetic anomaly in her family. He told her to expect to grow another three to six inches before she was finished growing and for her frame to fill out some more before she was through growing. To her it was almost disheartening. She liked being tall, but the prospect of being six foot ten inches tall was scary to her. As it was she was already the tallest girl in the freshman class, and she got some razzing for it too, but to be six foot ten? Wasn’t that a world record? She didn’t want that kind of recognition. She wanted to be normal, at least in some ways.

The news from the Endocrinologist wasn’t as good for her. She informed her that she had some very elevated hormone levels and that, while they weren’t dangerous, she should expect to grow more “womanly” until they stabilized in a more normal range. It was at that point that the doctor pointed out that she also had a higher than normal testosterone level which she said could account for the higher than normal muscle density and mass that she had. The doctor said she wanted Angela to take a urinalysis test just to make sure that Angela wasn’t on steroids “just to clear her from the get go“. Seeing as she wasn’t taking any thing except a daily vitamin that she’d been taking since she started high school she gladly accepted the opportunity to keep her name clean. Of course the test came back negative but the doctor had just wanted to eliminate that possibility.

The trips to the medical facility calmed her nerves some what, but the pressures of university life influenced her to make a decision that too me seemed both rash when she said it, and at the same time, reassuring. She came to me one night just before the softball season and told me that she was swearing off men until she was done with her education. I asked her why she said this and got this for her reply.

Today, while I was walking to Biology class, some freaky basketball player grabbed my ass and asked me if I wanted to go out for a drink with him tonight. I told him to get lost and he looked at me like I was passing up the biggest opportunity of my life. I guess I don’t understand what the big deal is. Why is it that some people, and jocks in particular, think they are God’s gift to women?”

Part of me tried to avoid the obvious comments about shoe size and it’s “correlations” to the male anatomy and come up with something more responsible, “Well, maybe he’s just a jerk? I don’t know. I would like to think that most guys are gentlemen, but I seem to notice that a lot of women seem to go for that type. I would think of my self as a gentleman, but who knows about this guy. He’s probably just using a method that worked before. I really don’t have very much experience in this arena.”

Angela looked at me with a compassionate gaze for a moment before speaking. “Tom, some day you will find a good woman. So many girls out there would love to have a man who is as compassionate and kind as you. Just hold out for a while and you will see. Be your self and the right woman will come along.”

Oh, how I wanted to say that she was the right woman, but instead came the simple “I know, she’s out there some where,” reply.

The hug I got was nice though after my brief words. I loved it when she would embrace me with her wonderfully strong arms wrapped around me and soft boobs mashed against my chest while her firm tummy pressed into me. She was about six-four at this point, an absolutely perfect example of Amazonian femininity next to my six foot one inch body.

Her resolve to give up boys seemed to steady her some more as the season began and she made some waves on the team when she took the starting shortstop spot from a senior that year. Her performance at the plate was phenomenal, with an average of .475 and 13 home runs, but her speed on the base paths was hampered by her still enlarging jugs. Defensively she was flawless at shortstop despite her pulchritude, due largely to the work outs she did with her legs and rigorous lateral movement drills that she imposed upon herself. She alone wasn’t able to carry the team though and they didn’t make the NCAA tournament, falling short by two games. Despite that she was voted a College All American as a freshman. As for my baseball aspirations? Well, lets just say I made the team, but I didn’t play. I don’t consider pinch hitting a couple times in games where the out come is already decided playing.

The following summer she took a job at a local gym to make some extra money and take advantage of the free gym privileges. That was the summer she went from six foot four and toned to six foot six and down right buff. I guess I should explain though that she didn’t really have a body builders build. She had a waist that was small and packed with muscles but she had hips that still flared out more than her considerable bosom. She did have the classic strong back that tapered out from the waist into a triangle meeting her large shoulders. Her legs were like tree trunks but still feminine some how, and her calves… oh her calves. It was odd looking at her though, because here on this stunningly fit woman were breasts that seemed very out of place and yet, very natural (because they were I guess). Adding insult to injury was that with her growth in height came corresponding expansion in her chest and hips.

On one of the occasions where she dragged me shopping with her (and oh did she have to drag me… NOT!) I got to get the full skinny on just how big she was. I knew she was in the custom bra range. With her unique shape there was no way she wasn’t, but I didn’t realize she was filling a 44G bra . Yes, 44-25-44 and 185 pounds. She was a big girl, and she informed me that she was going to keep growing for a little bit more. There was something about her, Tall, soft and yet not so, strong but at the same time obviously female, with that red hair and those green eyes that could melt me like butter in the microwave. I prayed every night that she would break her vow of chastity and pick me as the one to be her man. Unfortunately that wasn’t looking like it was going to happen.

Sophomore year of college marked a change for me. I decided that I wasn’t going to get Ms. Bonnet and got “realistic”. I met Meredith J. Swinson and we started dating. It was good for me because she was the type who kept me to task on the little things, like school work and what such. She was pretty hot in her own right, five foot six inches tall, on the soccer team (so yeah, she had great legs and a killer butt) and possessed a nice set of ta-tas to boot (36D-26-37). She wasn’t a replacement for Angela as a friend, but she was far more of a romantic interest in my life. It was interesting for me going from worshiping a larger than life goddess to trying to be the partner of a more realistically scaled woman.

Angela on the other hand almost seemed to hang out with me more once I had a new interest in my life, almost as if she was trying to say to me Now that you aren’t pursuing me like a love sick puppy we can be real friends, but I think Meredith had a mistrusting streak. I worried about turning either of them off to me. After all, I had been friends with Angie for eight years, and I had known Meredith for just under eight months. Where should my allegiances lie?

Well, I will tell you that the part of my the resides in my chest of me really wanted to be loyal to the friend of eight years, but the part of me that resided further down on my body really wanted to follow the sure thing, not the improbability. In the end it was easy, I let Meredith decide with her actions. Well that and the sex. Yeah, she was my first real girlfriend, and sex was a major bonus in my life. It was also probably the reason why the relationship didn’t last very long. I guess that either I wasn’t very talented in the sack or she was just a slut but for what ever reason after only three months, the relationship was over. She was really not very clear on her reasons, but I kind of got the feeling that the relationship was on it’s way out when the sex started to dry up after about the second week together. She was the one who wanted to have sex to start with (not that I resisted)! She never really even gave me a reason why, it just stopped being forthcoming.

The only really good things that came out of the demise of my relationship with Meredith were the fact that I finally knew what sex was really like, and some what more importantly to me, that my relationship with Angela maintained its new level of intensity despite the fact that I returned to my love sick puppy dog status.

Hey, you know what? Enough of my problems right, lets get back to the story of Angela and Tommy, and not just Tommy. For her Sophomore year of college I really didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Angela in school. But we hung out quite a bit after school, discussing our classes, or problems, generally being good friends. It was interesting, almost like she was almost like one of my guy friends. We went to clubs. We just had a great time together. Deep inside though I was really battling with my feelings. Here was this beautiful woman who I had known for a really long time and had known very well for many years. She was probably my best friend in the world, and here was my complication, I wanted to tell her how I really felt, but I didn’t want to put that out and ruin what I already had.

Crap, I am doing it again. Alright. Between her classes and the work outs that the softball team did pretty much all year round (either official or unofficial) she kept her self pretty occupied, and when she wasn’t with them she was with friends or family. She was very busy, but it was obvious that she wasn’t getting any smaller as the year went on she tacked on another two inches in height and seemed to broaden more in the hips and shoulders. Softball season came along and she met a new fate. Known now for her power hitting ability, other teams scouted the UW softball behemoth for a weakness. Other teams accused her of using steroids, or poked fun at her size, or her sports bra encased knockers, but the other teams real weapon turned out to be four pitches. She became the Barry Bonds of NCAA softball because her speed on the base paths was becoming a liability to the team.

She still drove in more RBI’s than any one else in the PAC-10 and hit more home runs than any other softballer in the NCAA (22) and was a College All American again. She was noted for being cumbersome on the bases though, with a low tops speed that slowed down faster players behind her in the order. Defensively on the other hand, with her unmatched strength and razor sharp reflexes she could get to the ball fast enough to once again remain perfect at shortstop. In spite of her defensive excellence and power hitting however, the team still failed to make the NCAA tournament again, falling short by 4 games.

The summer following her Sophomore year Angela got really depressed. She had been concentrating so much on strength training and flexibility and mechanics of hitting and defense that she had laid off the cardio some and her breasts took this as a hint to surge outward. She grew rapidly that summer from a GG size bra to a pair of 46I monsters. Around mid July she talked to a couple of friends who were also well endowed (not nearly as well as her though) and were going to a clothing design school about making a brassier that could do many things. On the list were the following requirements: minimize her breasts appearance, provide stability and compression, allow extremely vigorous movement (i.e. Sprinting, leaping, diving etcetera) and maintain containment and integrity, and be comfortable to wear for up to 5 hours at a time. No where in these requirements were the words “be attractive”. Her foundational garments had ceased to be pretty at about a G cup. Now in her mind it was all about function. Oh, there was two more stipulations, It needed to be able to work with sizes exceeding an K cup and it needed to be done before school started.

While her friends got to work on what she jokingly called her project, she went to work on the stationary bike, and other cardio programs to attempt to undo some of the results from what she called her laziness, on top of her already strenuous workout routines and drills. All of her work really started to pay off as the school year grew closer. She burned off about two cup sizes and reported to school at a mere J cup, wearing a new experimental bra custom made for her (it was even custom tailored in the band).

On another interesting but totally unrelated side note, it was pretty amazing to watch this woman eat, because she ate a lot! I mean, I like good food, and I can put it away like most guys, but she was consuming about twice as much as I was a day to fuel her metabolism (I didn’t work out like she did either, not even close). At school she brought a grocery bag with her lunch in it and it would be gone every day. She didn’t really have financial problems because her parents helped her out with necessities, which allowed her to use the money for her job on other things. Another thing she did at the start of her Junior year was swear off her car for getting around town. She bought a fairly expensive bike and used it as her local transportation, relying on her car only for long trips.

When baseball rolled around our junior year we both started at our respective positions on our respective teams. I played right field, while Angie played at shortstop. At this point I will say this, what a difference proper foundations can make. She had her best year in college ever, and thanks to some recruiting help, the number two and four hitters were much stronger this year and so she once again got to hit more, although the walks continued. Still, the bra that her friends made for her was the single best thing to happen to her because it alone improved her 40 meter time by six tenths of a second over conventional athletic bras. The only bad news that she had was that by the time the season started she had surpassed her summer bra size and was wearing a what would probably be a 46K bra. She was filling the custom bra she had had made to it’s intended capacity and it held up admirably performing it’s duties until the season ended.

Upon the end of the school year she had grown to a height of six foot six and a half, but over the summer she grew another two inches taller while her bosom grew yet more ungainly. Her friends who had “built” the first bra scaled up the design and refitted it to Angela’s enlarging chassis, while experimenting with ways to make it able to accept a wider range of expansion. The latter modification was a necessity because she ballooned all summer and all the way to softball season her senior year. To overcome this she worked out mercilessly to refine her body for her final year of Softball.

She was a double M cup a week before softball season opened and regardless of the marvel of foundational engineering she was wearing, there was nothing at this point that the bra could do to maintain control of her unruly breasts. She determined that she would wear it and use additional ace bandages among other things to minimize as much movement and distribute as much bulk as she could across her upper torso. That, and, one way or another, she was going to play her best. She wasn’t going to let her massive chest stop her from leaving an indelible mark on the UW softball program and the NCAA. She had pulled out all the stops that year leading up to the season, and she was going to make the most of it. With the exception of her two physical stumbling blocks, the pieces were in place.

Her final season started off with a blow out win over the defending national champions from UCLA, in which Angela launched three home runs and drove in seven RBI’s, and from there on it only got better. She ended the season with a batting average over .570 and 48 home runs as she used her reach and raw muscle to crank balls that were out of the strike zone, out of the park. Playing through pain and discomfort in her back, shoulders and breasts, she also set NCAA records in every category except triples, and a new defensive record for four years of error free play at short stop. She made the cover of Sports Illustrated not once, but twice that year, was the winner of her fourth All American Selection, and was a nightly feature on ESPN’s Sports Center, which garnered her national attention from many media sources (and drove breast men and men who liked strong women crazy). Angela Bonnet, my dearest friend and secret object of my affection was a star.

I would have thought that this would have changed her, made her ambitions change, altered her personality, but amazingly it didn’t. She did some sports adds and stuff, which made her a pretty amazing amount of money, but the buzz died down by the middle of July. She visited the Endocrinologist before she graduated and she informed her that her hormone levels were still slightly elevated, but seemed to be much lower than they had been at the beginning of the softball season, and over the summer, she finished her growth for the last time.

I graduated a quarter late, and got a job with the company I am now working for in Seattle almost right away. Angela was teaching in a pretty crumby school district in eastern Washington but loving it. We didn’t talk much for about the first six months of our respective jobs when out of the blue she called me on a Saturday night in late February asking me if I wanted to go out to lunch the next day. Not seeing her or hearing her for half a year had been gnawing at me for more and more of late, and so I jumped at the chance to get to see my old friend. We agreed to meet for lunch down town on Monday (it was Presidents Day weekend and she had the day off) at Gordon Bierch.

Unlike her, I had to work, so I came wearing a sport coat and slacks while she met me there in a pair of jeans and a Gap Sweatshirt that was stretched over her enormous chest. We sat down and picked up idle chatting until the waitress arrived. She took one look at me, then looked at Angela and then at her order memo pad, and then her head jerked back at Angela and locked onto her chest for probably five seconds before she regained her composure.

Uh, how are you both today?” she said, trying not to look guilty from her glance.

Angela took it totally in stride. It wasn’t as if this woman did any thing that any one who had never seen her before hadn’t done before. She dropped off our water and we ordered our lunches. When we got our food about fifteen minutes later Angela said something that I was totally unready for, something that would change the way I looked at her.

So Tom, I have a question. Why didn’t you ever ask me out when we were in high school or college?”

I was floored. “Wha, wh, what do you mean?” I said rasped, almost choking on my food.

It’s been pretty obvious to me since about my freshman year in high school that you were interested in me. I have had my girl friends comment about it to me. I noticed it really when I dated Geoff Thomas and you got all jealous of him and tried to defend me.”

I couldn’t believe I had been so transparent. Was it that easy to see through me, for her to realize that I cared for her that much?

I… I didn’t want to risk what I had.” I said quietly

You know what they say right? Nothing ventured, nothing gained?” she said looking me right in the eye.

I was afraid you wouldn’t take me seriously, that you would reject me, and I would have messed up our friendship. I have-” I couldn’t finish. I felt like I had said too much already.

What, what were you going to say?” She asked.

I have loved you for so long it’s painful to think about,” here it came, the moment of truth “would you consider going out to dinner some time with me?” Wow that was lame. But what is more scary still? It worked.

Tommy Gains, I have wanted you to ask that question for about 10 years.” she said through the brightest smile I had ever seen her wear.

I was lost, trying to digest what I had just heard. Here was this woman who I had longed for, lusted after, listened too, confided in, done every thing a friend could do and more for, telling me that all I would have had to do was ask and we could have been lovers as well? What am I dumb? To the victor the spoils I guess, but what a strange way to win.

Earth to Tom, come in. Hello you in there?” she said releasing me from the prison of my mind as I tried to wrap my brain around what had just happened.

Uh yeah, I was just trying to make sure this was really happening. I can’t believe I have waited all these years and today you finally told me that all I had to do was ask. You must really think I’m a meat head.”

She smiled at me again, “I don’t think you are a meat head, I think you have a minor self confidence problem around women, but lots of guys do. I will tell you right now that I have loved you since seventh grade, right after you came to the neighborhood. I just wasn’t going to make the first move, not back then any way.”

So what made you bring it up here? There have to be guys over in Wenatchee that you like.” I said inquisitively.

Remember when I swore off guys in college? That was to get you to make the first move, but you didn’t. I just recently decided to find out weather or not I had just been reading you all wrong, or you were just shy about that sort of thing.” Angela replied. “And as for other guys on the other side of the mountains? Well, most of them are intimidated by some one who’s built like me, and those who aren’t are jerks. Besides, I am interested in you.”


The End

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