THE GOLDEN GOOSE 

 

by Some Sort of Dog 

 

 

This is a story mainly about large breasts. There may be a suggestion 

of explicit sexual activity between adults, but although some of the 

characters have not yet reached adulthood, they are not described as 

indulging in sexual activity with adults. The story is a fantasy and 

should not be read by anyone under eighteen, or whatever the age of 

consent is in the place where you live. 

 

 

 

 

THE GOLDEN GOOSE 

 

by Some Sort of Dog 

 

 

Chapter 14:- In It For The Money 

 

"How will I know which one is Lynda?" Donna seemed unsure of 

herself. Perhaps it was enough that she was here for her first photo 

session, without the added hassle of being asked to grill Lynda about 

her illicit photographs. 

 

"She'll be the only other one here. She's young, very pretty, taller than 

you ..." 

 

"Everyone's taller than me, Mags. I make up for my lack of height in 

other ways." 

 

"So does Lynda. She's not as big as you up top, but she's a bit large for 

fourteen. Here ..." Maggie rummaged in her bag and found a couple of 

sheets of BJ's fax. "That's her." 

 

"Leigh Delamere? Isn't that something else? Bloody hell! No missing 

those things. I wouldn't like to bump into her on a dark night. 

Fourteen?" 

 

"That's all. And someone took these shots and sold them to GROSS. 

That's another magazine. Not as pure in thought and deed as us. 

Unscrupulous is the word. All we need is to find out who took the 

photos." 

 

Donna studied the pictures, then handed them back. She looked 

apprehensively toward the doors of the studio. 

 

Maggie looked at the clock. "Okay, babe. Time I was on my way. 

Good luck, Don! See you later. And don't worry about the photos. It's 

your first time, so Duncan won't be hard on you. He's queer as a nine-

bob note, by the way. So, for that matter, is Debbie, the girl who will 

be looking after you." She started the engine, then leaned across and 

kissed Donna softly on the cheek. 'And so am I,' she thought. 

 

The girl blushed, and opened her door. "Thanks, Maggie. I'll call you 

at three thirty." 

 

She disappeared inside with a nervous glance over her shoulder, and 

the door closed behind her. 'I seem to be getting involved with so 

many huge-busted young girls,' Maggie thought as she drove in a 

preoccupied manner through the streets. She found young Donna so 

desirable, and Maggie could still feel the resilience of Charlotte's 

mammoth breasts after last night's marathon session. Three bottles of 

white wine between the two of them. Charlotte had finally crept away 

in a taxi at eight o' clock this morning. Two consecutive nights with 

Charlotte! Maggie flooded her panties again, and had to stop at the 

side of the street, where a policeman looked at her suspiciously. It was 

several minutes before she was recovered enough to drive, and her 

fingers trembled as she found herself reaching for the phone. 

Charlotte's number was number sixty-nine in the memory ... 

 

 

********** 

 

'The place is like a chapel,' Donna thought, gazing around her. For the 

first few yards inside the door, there was no ceiling, just the dark wood 

rafters. Obviously a more recent addition, an internal wall had been 

built, the full height and width of the building. Dead centre against the 

wall sat a receptionist who typed at a keyboard in furious machine gun 

bursts of activity, punctuated with long periods of fumbling correction. 

She was alarmingly blonde and wore enormous glasses which didn't 

seem to be much help to her. 

 

Donna waited, perched on the edge of an armchair, looking at the 

large framed photographs on the walls. They were tastefully selected: 

all the models were wearing clothes. She wondered if she would ever 

look like any of these girls. She grinned to herself, reasoning that at 

four feet ten tall and considerably more than that around the bust, she 

was never going to look like one of these skinny clothes-horses. She 

tried to imagine herself in a marginal swimsuit, like the girl in the 

picture nearest to her. 'My waist and hips are smaller than hers, at 

least!' The thought made her giggle, and the receptionist looked up 

anxiously. 

 

"Debbie will out to see you in a minute." She inclined her head in the 

direction of a door to her left, from which came the faint thump of 

dance music. "They're nearly finished." 

 

'How does she know,' Donna wondered, but the girl obviously knew 

something she didn't, as not ten seconds later, the door opened and a 

young woman poked her head out. 

 

"You must be Donna, hi!" She beckoned to her and watched wide-eyed 

as Donna got up from the chair. "Obviously one of Cunis's young 

ladies," she grinned over her shoulder as she led the way down a 

corridor smelling faintly of chemicals. "This way." They turned right 

and went into a dressing room. It had one of those big mirrors 

surrounded by lights, and Donna caught sight of her reflection. She 

felt awkward and out-of-place. 

 

Debbie was looking her up and down, which didn't help. She was used 

to people staring at her, but Debbie's appraisal was much more 

intense, and she didn't look away in embarrassment when Donna 

looked back at her. But there was so much pure admiration in Debbie's 

look that Donna could hardly be offended. 

 

"Cunis girls come in all shapes and sizes," Debbie said at last, "but I 

think you are the most amazing of them all! Sorry for staring at you, 

but I was just trying to imagine what you look like without your 

clothes. They seem to be disguising quite a lot!" 

 

"You want me to take them off?" Donna asked uncertainly. 

 

"Only if it makes you feel more comfortable! No, not yet. Meet 

Duncan first. There's plenty of time. Lynda will be finishing in a 

minute, and she'll be in to change into her street clothes. You've met 

Lynnie, of course?" 

 

"No. Should I have?" 

 

"I suppose not. I just assumed since you're both from the same mag, 

and you're both young ... you'll like Lynnie, she's a good laugh. Not as 

big as you up here ..." Debbie placed her hands on her own substantial 

but well-disguised chest, "... but much taller. Here she comes anyway, 

see for yourself." 

 

Voices came down the corridor, a man's voice sounding slightly 

agitated, and a young girl, assured, very much in authority. "No, 

Geoffrey," she said. "Not now, but later, before I go. And don't try and 

creep out of it, or ..." There was more than a veiled threat in her 

words. 

 

It was a tall young girl, with shoulder-length dark hair. Presumably 

she had been posing for some kind of fashion shots, as she was 

wearing shorts and a baggy T-shirt. But Donna found it hard to 

imagine any magazine publishing fashion photographs of a girl shaped 

like Lynda. The shorts clung to a pair of hips that were made for the 

procreation of children, and the legs were those of a champion hurdler. 

As for the T-shirt, Donna knew that she herself would have filled it 

more completely, but even so, Lynda made it look almost obscene. 

Lynda looked at Donna and her expression softened. 

 

"Hello," she said. She had been angry when she came into the dressing 

room. Something the man Geoffrey had said or done had annoyed 

Lynda. Yet Lynda had put him in his place in no uncertain terms. She 

was undeniably the boss. Now, meeting Donna, she smiled, and her 

face lit up. Donna could see that Lynda was a truly gorgeous girl. 

 

"Hi, I'm Donna Fielding," she said. "You're Lynnie?" 

 

"Lynda Mae Sutcliffe." She came from the West Midlands, Donna 

decided from her accent. And she sounded much younger than she 

looked. It was only when she had snapped at Geoffrey that she had 

sounded older and more assured. Now she sounded like a schoolgirl 

again. She certainly didn't look like one. 

 

Donna decided on a direct approach. "I've seen you before. Your 

pictures, anyway. In a magazine." 

 

"Me?" Lynda looked bewildered. "I haven't been in any magazines." 

She was going bright red and shuffling her feet. "I'm not old enough." 

 

"Well, it looked like you. You haven't got a sister? Built the same as 

you?" Donna was enjoying her advantage as Lynda looked more and 

more embarrassed. 

 

"We've only taken a few test shots of Lynnie," Debbie said. "Ordinary 

clothes and bikini pictures. They weren't for publication. She's under 

contract to Cunis, and they wouldn't have published them. It must 

have been someone else you saw." 

 

"There can't be many girls like Lynda," said Donna, looking Lynda up 

and down admiringly. 

 

Lynda was confused. Although Geoff had sold the pictures from the 

beer assisted session in the cornfield, he hadn't told her the pictures 

had been published, or even that they were about to be. If they had 

been, that had to be worth several more shirts and jeans from Geoff. A 

couple of hundred pounds'-worth. She would tackle Geoff before she 

left the studio. He already owed her another fifty, and she wanted that 

before she would let him take any more pictures of her. Or do anything 

else with her, for that matter. 

 

Lynda was relishing her power over Geoff. Not only had she turned 

him into a steady source of income, she was playing him like a fish 

with the promise of sex. He was more useful to her that way. Lynda 

was not a virgin any more: once her appetite had been aroused by her 

steamy early meetings with Geoff, she simply made it known around 

the school that she was available. 

 

Her experiences had not been entirely satisfying, but there was no 

shortage of boys willing to try their luck with the amazingly lovely and 

staggeringly busty fourteen-year-old. Lynda was happy to try them all, 

and she was still working her way methodically through them. 

 

"Which magazine was it, anyway?" Debbie had noticed Lynda's 

embarrassment. She was curious. 

 

"I can't remember," Donna racked her brains. "A short name. Grease? 

GROSS. That's it!" 

 

"GROSS?" Debbie looked strangely at Lynda. GROSS was a big bust 

magazine with a sleazy reputation. For sure, Donna would never have 

heard of it before. And Debbie could see that Donna was certain of one 

thing: she had seen Lynda's pictures in GROSS magazine. "I'll leave 

you two alone for a minute," she said, "and see if Duncan is ready." 

 

Lynda grinned nervously at Donna. The pretty little blonde girl 

seemed about her own age. Her sluttish behaviour at school wasn't 

winning her many girl friends. Donna was different: a chance to make 

a new friend away from home and school. Someone she could confide 

in, perhaps someone she could brag to about her exploits with boys. 

And if Geoff had sold pictures of her to this magazine, okay, why not 

brag about that as well? 

 

She looked around to see that Debbie was still safely out of the room. 

"Those pictures might be me, after all," she said. "I did have some 

more taken. Outdoors." 

 

"These were outdoors," Donna confirmed. "In a field." 

 

"Were they any good? Did they look like me?" 

 

"They were a bit rude, the ones I saw. I didn't think magazines were 

allowed to have pictures of girls under sixteen." 

 

"There's lots of things you're not allowed to do until you're sixteen," 

said Lynda with a leer. "Maybe I'll let them take some pictures of me 

doing that, too. That ought to be worth a bit more." 

 

"Did you get much for the GROSS pictures?" 

 

"Fifty pounds," Lynda said proudly. "But I suppose that's because I'm 

so pretty. And so big!" 

 

"Fifty? Wow!" Donna was deliberately non-committal. Fifty pounds 

was a miserable sum for a complete layout. "I wonder if they would be 

interested in me, too. Do they like big tits? I'm sixteen, too." 

 

"Are you?" Lynda was disappointed. She had thought Donna was only 

the same age as herself. Her shift-style dress was loose and disguised 

her shape quite effectively. 

 

"Yes, so I'm legal. In this country, anyway. I still have to wait two 

years for Mr Cunis. It would be nice to earn some pocket money in the 

meantime. I'm quite big, too." And she pulled her shoulders back and 

stuck her chest out proudly. 

 

Even in loose clothing, Donna was gigantic. Lynda stared at her 

breasts, supported by one of Mrs Danby's finest. Right down there! 

How could a little skinny girl be as big as that? 

 

"Do you think your photographer would take some of me?" Donna 

asked innocently. 

 

"I'd have to ask him. He might be too busy. He takes pictures of lots of 

girls." 

 

"Gosh, I'm so excited! How soon could you ask him and let me know? 

I know I'm still growing, but it would be nice to be in a magazine 

straight away. How long does it take? When were yours done?" 

 

"Back in May. A couple of months, I suppose." 

 

Donna did her best to look downhearted. It seemed to work. 

 

"I'll see him and call you tomorrow. What's your number? Write it 

down, Debbie's coming back." 

 

Donna scribbled her number on a scrap of paper, and Lynda tucked it 

into her bra. 

 

"I suppose you'll be having your picture taken now, then," she said 

loudly, for Debbie's benefit. 

 

"She's right, Donna. Come and meet Duncan and Geoff. 

 

 

********** 

 

"She wouldn't tell me. I'm sorry, Mags." 

 

"It doesn't matter. It was a forlorn hope expecting her to tell you 

straight off. What did she tell you?" 

 

Donna tried to remember. It was difficult after the excitement of the 

last two hours. Duncan had been really lovely, and Donna had enjoyed 

posing, despite the sheer physical effort of heaving her giant breasts 

about into pose after pose. Debbie had been helpful and supportive, 

although that Geoff was a bit of a creep, always staring at her boobs. 

Good-looking, but creepy. 

 

A memory came to her. "She said she got paid fifty pounds." 

 

"Fifty? Is that all?" 

 

"That's what I thought. It was loads of pages, wasn't it?" 

 

"More than fifty quid's-worth, certainly. So someone's ripping her off. 

Someone, probably the mystery photographer, sold the pictures to 

GROSS, or to their agent, and let Lynda have fifty pounds. Anything 

else? Did she say when it was?" 

 

"It was May." 

 

"Hmm-mm, May. Just after she came to the studio and had her test 

pictures taken. Anything else?" 

 

Donna searched her memory. "Well, I said I wanted her bloke to take 

my pictures too, and she said she'd have to ask him. She said she'd tell 

me tomorrow. I gave her my number." 

 

"She'll call him tonight, then. She must be sure of getting in touch 

with him." 

 

"No! I just remembered what she said. I thought it was funny at the 

time. She said she would see him and call me tomorrow. She definitely 

said she'd be seeing him!" 

 

"Good girl! That might mean something. I don't know what, but it 

might be important." 

 

 

********** 

 

"I've got to tell her something." Lynda stood up, and a number of faces 

on the crowded station turned in surprise in her direction. 

 

Geoff looked up at her from the seat. Much as he desired Lynda, she 

had become a liability. She was now costing him a couple of items of 

clothing every week, each more expensive than the last. She was still 

keen on having some more pictures taken, even more raunchy than the 

ones that had already appeared in GROSS, but this time she wanted 

money up front, and Geoff had no way of paying her in advance when 

he didn't know if Hilton Paark would buy the next batch. 

 

He would have to tell her it was no deal. Perhaps this other girl, little 

Donna, would be better. He had been stunned when Donna had 

appeared in the studio. He thought of her as "little" Donna, as she was 

so much shorter than Lynda, but the girl had such a mammoth pair of 

tits on her, he had been reduced to speechless gawping. If he could 

persuade her to pose for him, perhaps she would be less money-

grabbing than Lynda. 

 

"I can't tell her you took the pictures, can I? It would mean trouble for 

you." 

 

What she really meant was that trouble for Geoff meant no more 

money for Lynda. Geoff could think of no way around the problem. 

 

Lynda had an idea. "How about if I tell Donna to contact what's his 

name. Hilton Paark? He'll know a photographer, won't he?" 

 

"But I want to take the pictures of Donna. That way, I'll get paid, and 

you can have a little share as well. You'll have to tell her it was me." 

 

"Can we trust her? She might be big friends with that Maggie 

woman." 

 

"Oh, shit!" Geoff put his head in his hands. 

 

Lynda sat down again. "Look, my train is going in five minutes. What 

about this for an idea? I tell her I can arrange for her to meet the 

photographer, right? And she has to come to where I live ready to have 

her pictures taken out in a field, just like mine. And she turns up, and 

I go out there with her and get her stripped off and tell her the 

photographer is definitely coming, but he's a bit late. Then he turns 

up, and it's you!" 

 

"What's the good of that? She'll run off and tell on us." 

 

"No, she won't dare! If she did, she'd have to tell Maggie that she had 

arranged an unofficial photo shoot, and she daren't do that. Hey, I've 

got to go. Think about it, and call me." 

 

"Bye, Lynnie!" Geoff kissed her on the cheek. 

 

Lynda held out her hand, snapping her fingers together. "Come on," 

she said. "What about the money? You didn't think I'd forgotten, did 

you?" 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15:- Baiting The Trap 

 

Lynda did call Donna the next day, as promised, but Donna already 

had a plan worked out. 

 

"Great, sure, we can get your photographer to come along and take my 

picture, too, but does it have to be up at your place?" 

 

Lynda was puzzled and taken aback. "Why not?" 

 

"Just an idea I had. Usually I go away for a couple of days with my 

mum. We've got this tent and we go down to the seaside. Swanage. 

Mum says everybody goes to Swanage at some time in their lives, but 

even so, it's still pretty quiet. Trouble is, Mum can't make it. Why can't 

we go, you and me? Your man could come down there and take my 

pictures, and nobody will recognise us." 

 

"I dunno. It's a long way. How would I get there?" 

 

"Come to us. You can get here easily enough by bus or train. Mum 

says she can take us down to the coast in the car, then she'll leave us 

there. She said you can look after me. You can tell your Mum I'll look 

after you. It will be great. There are discos and things, and loads of 

boys, and we could go on the beach and swim and stuff." 

 

"Oh, it sounds nice. But ..." Lynda wasn't sure. She had persuaded 

Geoff to come up to her place again. How would he react to having to 

go to the seaside instead. But then, it would make no difference to 

him, surely. And if he came down to Swanage, he might have some 

money to spend on her. "Yeah, Don! Why not? I'll call him and tell 

him we'll see him down there instead." 

 

"Right. If we go down on Friday night, he can meet us over the 

weekend sometime. I know a few places where we can do it without 

being disturbed. Saturday or Sunday will be fine." 

 

"I'll try for Saturday afternoon," said Lynda, thinking about Saturday 

night with a purse full of Geoff's cash. "What about clothes?" 

 

"I thought I'd be nude," said Donna, grinning mischievously to herself. 

 

"Nah. What do I need?" 

 

"Whatever you feel good in. Shorts, T-shirts, whatever you like." 

 

"Have you got a bikini, Don?" 

 

"Me? A bikini? You've got to be joking, Lynda!" 

 

"I've got one you might squeeze yourself into. I'll bring it along as well 

as mine, and you can try it. I haven't dared wear it yet, but if we both 

wear them ..." 

 

"We'll spend the night in Swanage jail. All right, bring it along. We 

can always sunbathe up at the camp site, in private. Okay, you're on. 

Give me a ring Friday morning just to say it's all right, and I'll see you 

Friday afternoon. Then we'll go straight off. It's going to be great! Just 

the two of us!" 

 

"Yeah, just the two of us! It'll be okay, but I'll call you Friday morning. 

See ya later!" 

 

 

********** 

 

Donna put the phone down and held up a thumb to Maggie. "All 

arranged. She's coming." 

 

"And when this photographer arrives, on Saturday, you'll get ready for 

your picture and then you slip away, call me on the mobile phone, and 

I turn up like the US Cavalry." 

 

"And catch us in the act. On your own? What if he's a big bloke?" 

 

"I'll get some help. We'll be all right. We'll scare seven shades of shit 

out of Mr Gross, and have him out of there and in front of BJ Cunis 

before his feet can even touch the ground. BJ will know what to do 

with him." 

 

"There's only one sad thing about it all," said Donna. "I won't get a 

modelling fee!" 

 

"Catch this schmoe and we'll all get a bonus, don't worry!" Maggie 

patted Donna's cheek, feeling the familiar melting in her loins. She 

wanted this girl. Even the richness of Charlotte's lush breasts had not 

spoiled Maggie completely. "I'll be getting along home, then," she said 

reluctantly. 

 

"I suppose so." Donna would have liked her to stay another hour, until 

her mother came home. Something about Maggie fascinated the busty 

sixteen-year-old. She stood up, restraining her breasts as they 

threatened to take over. "Oops! Still can't get used to wearing a bra." 

 

"It suits you, Don, sweetie!" Maggie kissed Donna gently on the cheek. 

At least, she tried to, but with Donna still slightly off balance, she 

found herself closer than she intended to the startled girl. Their lips 

brushed softly, and Donna's parted as if of their own accord. For a few 

seconds, the two women clung to each other. It was a dangerous 

situation. If Maggie clung on for an instant longer than necessary, she 

would lose control completely. 

 

Donna was thinking more or less the same thing. Her head spun as she 

felt Maggie's soft lips against hers. Their breath mingled. Maggie's 

hair brushed her cheek, and she wanted it to carry on for ever. She 

stiffened slightly and tried to pull away. Now or never. Her eyelashes 

flickered against Maggie's face and she felt the older woman give a 

little gasp. 

 

"Oh, Donna, darling! We can't be doing this!" 

 

"Why not? It feels good enough to me." 

 

"Your mother will be home soon." Maggie held her at arms' length 

and smiled at her. "You know the effect you have on me. Once we 

start ... some other time, all right?" 

 

"All right!" Donna's heart thumped. Maggie meant it. She really 

meant it! 

 

 

********** 

 

Kay leaned closer to Rick in the car. "It's been a lovely evening. 

Coming in for coffee?" She tried to make it sound casual. 

 

Rick tried, too, with no more success. "I could, I suppose!" His hand 

was cool on hers. They had seen each other a couple of times, but Kay 

had seemed to want to keep things on a just-good-friends basis. Rick 

was happy with that: it was good just to be with Kay. She had invited 

him in for coffee before, and the coffee had been delicious. That was 

all they'd had, though. 

 

This time, things felt different. To both of them. 

 

"You've moved the couch," Rick observed. "And the stereo." 

 

"I needed a change of scenery. And I wanted to make room for my 

picture on the wall." 

 

"So I see! You let your friends see that?" 

 

"Why not? It's my body. Anyway, what friends? I don't have many 

friends at all." 

 

Rick turned from studying the picture. It was a big one, in a crisp 

stainless steel frame. Or was it polished alloy? It showed Kay, from 

her HUMUNGOUS! layout, gloriously nude and smiling mysteriously, 

holding eye-contact with the lens. The room seemed full of her breasts. 

Now Rick looked at her, she had moved close to his side, and they 

seemed even bigger. He tried not to stare down into her cleavage. 

 

"I'll slip into something ..." 

 

"More comfortable? Corny or what!" 

 

"Get me a drink, Rick." Kay slithered away to the bedroom door. 

"Something long and cool." 

 

"I'll have the same," he said. The temperature seemed to have risen 

suddenly. He searched around for glasses, went to the freezer for some 

ice. 

 

"Could you help me with this, darling?" 

 

Who was writing this script? Rick knew before he reached the 

bedroom what he would find. Kay had her shirt and skirt off, and was 

wrestling with her bra fastenings. In just her bra and panties, she 

looked strangely tiny and vulnerable, apart from that immense bust. 

 

"Come on," she purred. "I won't bite. Not unless you're a naughty 

boy." 

 

"God, Kay. You're beautiful!" 

 

"No, I'm not! Not really. A bit different from other women, that's all. 

Give me a hand with these hooks. I can reach them, but it's hard. 

Stand behind me. Just there! Rub my neck first." 

 

She stood patiently while he ran his hands across her shoulders, 

feeling the muscles beneath the soft skin. "That's nice," she said softly. 

"Your hands are so big and gentle." She began to turn to face him. 

 

"Let me undo your bra first," Rick said, "It's what you called me in 

here for, isn't it?" He reached down for the back of the bra while she 

patiently hung her head as if in supplication. The hooks were 

awkward, tight. "I'll have to have a word with Mother about these 

bloody hooks she's using." 

 

"It's my fault. This bra is tighter than it was when I got it. I just keep 

right on growing. It's so naughty of me." 

 

Four of the hooks were undone, but as each one was released it placed 

more pressure on the rest. The last two were proving impossible. 

 

Kay grasped the shiny material of the sides of the bra, took a deep 

breath and pulled backwards. "Quickly, while I hold it like this ..." 

 

The last two hooks were undone, and Kay relaxed, breathing out. She 

eased the cups forward and Rick slid the shoulder straps down. Even 

with the extraordinary width of the straps, they had still cut into Kay's 

shoulders. He gently massaged the soft flesh and Kay purred like a cat, 

tossing the bra on to a chair. From behind, looking over her shoulder, 

Rick brushed her silken hair to one side. He softly kissed the back of 

her neck, where the hair was yet softer, and ran his hands down the 

sides of the vast globes. Despite his proximity to so many huge-

breasted women who regularly visited his mother, these were the 

biggest he had ever seen from such a close distance. They were the 

biggest he had ever held in his hands. They were, in fact, the only ones 

he had held in his hands. 

 

"You'll drive me up the wall if you do that." Kay turned into his arms 

and pressed her nipples against him. They were right down below his 

belt. "Rick. Drive me up the wall, darling. I think I want you!" 

 

"Kay, sweetie ...!" 

 

"It's all right!" She touched his lips with a finger. "I'll help you. Let 

me be your teacher." 

 

Rick flushed. She knew? She stood back from him slightly, and he saw 

her breasts squash together in the middle as her hands busied 

themselves with his belt. She was fully preoccupied with what she was 

doing, like a little child. 

 

"It goes the other way, like this ..." 

 

"No!" Kay pushed his hands down. "I'll do it myself. You just hold me. 

Cup my bottom in your hands." 

 

He obeyed, feeling his erection throbbing against the undersides of her 

breast. 

 

"I think you are a naughty boy, aren't you?" Kay's eyes sparkled with 

amusement. "But I'll come to that in a little while. Just hold my bum 

cheeks. And if you don't want me to come too soon, keep your fingers 

away from the crack in the middle!" 

 

This was obscene! Rick's cheeks blazed at Kay's oddly casual sex talk. 

She leaned back, laughing, as she released his belt, deftly unhooked 

the top of his jeans, and triumphantly unzipped him. 

 

"There! Wow, that's better. Let the dog see the rabbit. No, keep your 

hands where I can feel them." 

 

His jeans were sliding down his legs. Somehow, she had disengaged 

them from his throbbing cock and yanked them down harder. Kay left 

them to their own devices and turned her attention, more urgently, to 

his shirt. It had three buttons at the neck. He felt her soft breath as she 

leaned closer, her fingernails teasing his neck. Then suddenly she 

seemed to achieve superhuman strength as she grabbed the shirt and 

heaved it over his head, turning it inside out. Rick felt his hands 

wrenched away from Kay's buttocks as she tugged the shirt off his 

arms. 

 

"Who told you to let go of my arse? Get your hands back down there!" 

Rick did as he was told. Her hands were down below again, still 

urgent, but more gentle now. Her gasp was soft and almost inaudible. 

"Oooh, darling! It's all wet at the end. And so big and throbby and soft 

and hard. Hard!" 

 

It was hard all right. As Rick found himself being relieved of his 

shorts, he stepped out of his jeans and undershorts in a single 

movement - spurred on by Kay's hand lightly spanking his bottom - 

his cock was engulfed in two enormous mounds of cool breast. Kay 

hung down so far, she could wrap them around him without needing to 

bend down even an inch. 

 

"Don't let go of my bum, boy!" 

 

As if galvanised, Rick grabbed at her again. 

 

"That's better. You can let go now." She stood back, a goddess with 

giant breasts. Smiling, she eased herself back on to the bed. "Right, 

here we go. Lesson number one!" 

 

 

********** 

 

The tent was ludicrously complicated to erect, but Laura directed 

operations, watching with wonderment as Donna and her new friend 

fumbled around with tangled strings and tent pegs. Lynda was 

spectacular in her abbreviated shorts and a yellow T-shirt. Donna, far 

more petite and slender, but with much bigger breasts, still looked 

slightly dowdy beside the powerfully built younger girl. 

 

"It's up," said Laura at last. "I've seen better, but it ought to do. No 

doubt, the boys next door will help you straighten things out 

tomorrow." Laura had noticed the four boys ataring at them with rapt 

expressions. Lynda had noticed as well, obviously. She was spending 

more time posing, standing sideways, than she was in doing useful 

work. Donna worked on, oblivious. 

 

Only when Laura was driving away, waving bye-bye, did Lynda 

mention the boys to Donna. 

 

"Let's hurry up with supper, then we'll have time for a chat with that 

lot next door." 

 

Donna looked surprised. "Those boys? But we don't know them. They 

might be horrible." 

 

Lynda gasped at the very idea. "They're boys, Don! There's four of 

them, so we'll both have a choice. The blonde one looks nice. He's tall, 

too, so I'll have him. You can have the little dark-haired one." 

 

"But I might not like him. I might not like any of them!" 

 

"Course you will. Anyway, you only have to talk to them. We don't 

have to do anything with them. Not if you don't want to." She upended 

a can of beans into a saucepan and stirred it over the gas burner while 

Donna ground the peppermill into the pan. 

 

"Have you been with many boys?" Donna asked. "I mean, really been 

with them." 

 

"Loads!" Lynda sat back on her haunches and Donna found herself 

staring at the bursting calf muscles of the girl. Her thighs bulged 

powerfully and the crotch of her shorts was straining to contain 

whatever was inside. Donna felt she wanted to see more. "What about 

you? You're sixteen. You must have had plenty now you're legal." 

 

Donna shook her head, grateful for the gathering darkness under the 

awning of the tent. She bit her lip. "Only a few, just to talk to. None I 

really fancied, though. I'm a virgin," she added softly. 

 

Lynda was amazed and nonplussed. She could not imagine making 

such an admission to another girl. She had been fully expecting to 

enter a contest with Donna, claiming more conquests than the older 

girl. Donna's quiet confession had left Lynda feeling deflated. There 

was none of the feeling of power she expected. 

 

"What's it like?" Donna sat opposite her, taking two plates out of the 

cardboard box and wiping the dried grass off them with a tea-towel. 

She held them out for Lynda to serve the beans. "We'll try something 

more ambitious for breakfast, right?" 

 

"Yeah," Lynda grinned. "It's great. It feels great, especially if they've 

got big dicks. Most of my boys have been big. I suck them off, too. I do 

that at school, during the breaks." 

 

Donna was impressed. Lynda acted years older than her. "More 

pepper," she said critically, and ground some more on to her plate. 

"What's it taste like?" 

 

"Okay. You must like it really hot." Lynda shovelled another forkful of 

beans into her mouth. 

 

"I've never done it, I told you." 

 

"Oh, shit. I thought you meant the beans. You mean cock? Nothing 

special. A bit fishy, a bit like your puss. You know how you taste, 

down there?" 

 

Donna wondered how Lynda tasted down there. She nodded her head 

and wiped her plate with a slice of bread. There was a shadow at the 

doorway and she looked up anxiously. 

 

"Can we come in? We're your new neighbours." A burst of laddish 

giggles greeted this dazzling repartee. 

 

Lynda squirmed in ecstasy. "Hi! We were coming to see you after 

supper. Come in and sit down!" 

 

"What have you had?" The leader of the boys came in, bending low to 

sniff at Lynda's plate. "Beans? Is that all? I thought girls could cook. 

Beans just make you fart." His three friends were still outside the tent 

flap, and fell about laughing at his wit. "What's your name?" he asked. 

There was no doubt about which girl he was talking to. 

 

"Lynda." 

 

"Dave. And this is Goober, Duffy and Slug." The three colleagues 

edged into the tent, peering round as if looking for items of girls' 

discarded underwear. 

 

"This is Donna," said Lynda. "She's my friend." 

 

"Hi," muttered Donna. She was even more glad of the semi-darkness 

in the tent. 

 

Dave made himself comfortable, facing Lynda. He ran a hand through 

his blonde hair. The other three boys squatted awkwardly. None of 

them gravitated toward Donna.  

 

"Hey, you're big, ain't ya!" Dave was staring at Lynda, now his eyes 

were accommodated to the gloom. 

 

Lynda took a deep breath, straining things a bit. "Donna's bigger than 

me!" 

 

Donna was horrified. She tried to huddle herself into her shoulders as 

four pairs of eyes pivoted to her chest. It didn't really work. You 

couldn't hide all that lot. Dave stared for a while, then looked back at 

Lynda. 

 

"Christ! You're both fucking huge. Jeezus!" For some reason, that 

made Lynda laugh. 

 

"Where are you from?" she asked. 

 

"Bristol." 

 

Donna had guessed correctly. Why did boys on holiday always come 

from Bristol? Dave slid closer to Lynda. "What about you?" 

 

"Birmingham." 

 

"Oh, Berbiggub!" Dave mocked her, and his cronies cackled in chorus. 

 

"What's wrong with Birmingham? It's South of Birmingham, actually. 

The posh bit." 

 

"Is that where the girls put the johnnies on for you?" 

 

"With our mouths," Lynda confirmed. This line of talk was making 

Donna cringe. She had to do something to make them stop it. 

 

"Coffee, anybody?" She stood up, and Dave showed a flicker of interest 

as her breasts swayed massively beneath her shirt. The other three 

boys were staring open-mouthed. 

 

"Hey, you don't want coffee. We got some beer." Dave prodded the boy 

called Goober. "Fetch the booze, Goobs." Goober clambered to his feet 

and disappeared. He returned a minute later with a clinking carrier 

bag. 

 

"I brought it all. We can get some more from the off-licence." 

 

"No!" Dave dipped into the bag. "There's enough here for me and the 

girls. You lot can have one bottle each. He tossed three bottles casually 

to his friends, then handed one each to Lynda and Donna, and took 

one himself. "Plenty more in there," he told them, patting the bulging 

bag. 

 

Lynda fumbled with her bottle until Dave produced a bottle opener and 

prised off the tops. 

 

"Cheers!" He held his bottle aloft, then glugged for several seconds. 

 

Lynda took a sip, then a deep draught. Donna, not wanting to be left 

out, tried a mouthful. Not bad, she decided. A bit too sweet for her 

taste, a bit treacly. Probably European stuff. She watched as Goober 

found the bottle opener and found a way in to the other three bottles 

for himself and the other two boys. Daringly, he shifted his position 

about three inches closer to Donna, leaving himself only about four 

feet away. 

 

"Hi!" he said, raising his bottle with an involuntary belch. 

 

"Hi," Donna replied, without enthusiasm. Conversation lapsed, apart 

from Dave and Lynda, who were sitting with their heads together, 

murmuring in low tones. Occasionally, Lynda giggled. Donna 

wondered what they were talking about. They'd only just met, yet they 

were chatting away like old friends. 

 

Whose idea had this been? Donna sat back glumly and swigged her 

beer. Camping at the seaside with this young slut was the worst idea in 

the world. Dave obviously didn't think so. He was so close to Lynda 

that they were practically in each other's laps.  

 

Donna actually envied him. She realised, not for the first time lately, 

that if she was faced with a choice, she would rather make love to a 

girl than a boy. Not that she'd done either, but the ache she felt when 

she listened to the low murmur of conversation, the giggles, and 

Dave's dirty laugh, made her feel forlorn.  

 

Ah, well. Soon be tomorrow, and we'll meet this photographer bloke. 

That would make Lynda giggle on the other side of her face. The 

prospect ought to have cheered Donna, but somehow, it didn't. 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16:- Feelings 

 

Donna was asleep on the tent floor when Lynda tried to lift her up. 

 

"Give us a hand, Dave-o, she's heavy with these fucking great tits!" 

 

She woke up as Dave lifted her into a sitting position, and she shook 

off his wandering hands. 

 

"You're awake." Lynda accused her. "You fell asleep. It's one o'clock. 

The other three have gone to bed. C'mon. Dave's going." 

 

"Night, Dave," Donna muttered numbly. 

 

"Night, beautiful. See you in the morning. See ya, Lynnie! You're sure 

about ...?" 

 

"Not tonight, Dave-o! We've got plenty more time. See you in the 

morning, right? Come here!" Lynda pressed herself against Dave, and 

for about five minutes, there was no need for words. 

 

"Mmmmm! Wow! Lynnie. You are fantastic. And only seventeen!" 

 

"Yeah, later, right?" Lynda sounded nervous. She placed her hands on 

Dave's chest and pushed him away reluctantly. "Night, love!" 

 

"G'night!" 

 

 

********** 

 

Wilma came out of BJ's office and slumped in her chair.  

 

"I feel as if I've let him down personally, Mags. It was my idea to go 

for this whole Golden Goose idea. And it's all coming apart. I daren't 

tell him about the Charlotte pictures." 

 

"It's all right, chief." Maggie scooted over in her chair and placed her 

elbows on the editor's desk. "She's eighteen now. It's just the first 

layout that we're putting out that was a little early. And by the time 

these latest ones appear, shit, BJ will ... perhaps he won't cream 

himself, but our readers will." 

 

"What are you doing with Charlotte?" Wilma asked. 

 

Maggie looked up, startled and reddening. "How do you mean?" 

 

"Her new photo session. You've seen her in the flesh, I haven't." 

 

'I certainly have,' Maggie thought. "Duncan can't do her this week, 

he's in Paraguay or somewhere. Next week. Her lump doesn't show 

yet. In fact, you wouldn't be able to see it anyway, it's kind of out of 

sight. We'll get Charlotte in next week. I've warned her about it. She 

says she can't think what the readers would think about it. She thinks 

they must be kinky, wanting pictures of a pregnant woman with a ten-

foot bust!" 

 

"Maybe they are," said Wilma. "How about the other thing, Leigh 

Delamere. Even BJ's calling her that now." 

 

"He might as well. She can't appear in HUMUNGOUS! now. She 

won't be anything other than Leigh Delamere from now on. I'm going 

down to Swanage in the morning. We should catch her photographer 

in the act sometime in the afternoon. It won't help us, apart from the 

personal satisfaction. And we'll still have three huge-titted girls left at 

the end of the day, instead of four." 

 

"You're right, I suppose. It's just that Lynda was the most natural, 

somehow. A big strong girl, with boobs to die for, and as sexy as 

buggery. Who knows what she would have been like at eighteen?" 

Wilma sighed, and turned off her computer, closed her desk drawer. 

"Another late night, Mags. Go on, get out of here. Have a good 

weekend at the seaside. See you Monday." 

 

"G'night, Chief." 

 

 

********** 

 

"Bloody pigeons!" 

 

"They're seagulls. We're at the seaside, Lyn. There are supposed to be 

seagulls. Anyway, it missed you." Donna brought two plates out of the 

tent and handed one to Lynda. "Eggs and bacon will set you up after a 

night like last night." 

 

Lynda groaned and adjusted her dark glasses. "What's up with you, 

anyway? Getting me up at this time of the morning? I'm on holiday. 

Ouch!" The effort of making a speech seemed to be doing things to her 

head. 

 

"We're not on holiday really. Just having a few days' break. Eat your 

breakfast, before I grab it." Donna flopped two rashers of bacon on to a 

thick slice of bread, slid a fried egg on top, anointed it with ketchup 

and covered the whole thing with another slice. She took a huge bite, 

catching a dribble of egg yolk with a finger as Lynda watched in 

horror. 

 

"How can you eat all that lot in the morning?" She picked at her own 

plate. "I'd get huge if I had all that." 

 

"But you are huge, Lynnie!" Donna observed without malice. "I won't 

get fat. I might put a little bit on round the tummy, but most of it goes 

to my tits. Mum's orders. Every little helps, she says. The bigger I get, 

the more we earn." 

 

"Do what?" 

 

"You know! The inches agreement? You do, don't you?" 

 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lynda watched Donna's 

makeshift sandwich disappear, and made one of her own, if only to 

stop Donna stealing her breakfast. 

 

"I'm still starving," Donna complained, getting to her feet and heading 

for the tent to forage for more food. She emerged into the sunlight 

with a bowl of cornflakes, a bottle of milk and a can of peaches. "You 

mean, you don't get paid more as your bust measurement gets bigger?" 

 

"No. Mum never mentioned that. She just gets paid so much a year, 

plus my bras and stuff." 

 

"Perhaps I shouldn't say anything." Donna balanced half a peach on 

her cereal, then reclined on one side like a Roman lady preparing for 

an orgy. One T-shirt-filling breast rested heavily on the warm ground 

beside her. She took a spoonful and closed her eyes dreamily. "But 

they measured me when I got my first bra from Mrs Danby. Then they 

measure me every month, and Mum gets paid so much a month for 

every inch I get bigger. I've earned a hundred quid already, and it will 

be an extra five hundred by the end of the first year, even if I don't get 

any bigger than I am now." 

 

"No chance of that, the way you're going." Lynda wiped her plate with 

her bread. She felt hungry all of a sudden. "I don't get nothing, just my 

pocket money. And the odd bit from ... from my pictures." 

 

"The magazine pictures?" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"How much do you get for that? Mum was asking. I told her fifty quid, 

and she said that was silly for all those pages." 

 

Lynda grunted unhappily. Geoff had eventually paid her far more than 

that, but only after a lot of wheedling and cajoling. 

 

"I'm going to make sure how much I'm getting before I let him take 

any pictures of me." Donna finished her cereal, and to Lynda's 

amazement, she actually licked her dish. "Saves washing up." She 

giggled. "Mum would shoot me if I did that at home. Finished?" 

 

She picked up Lynda's plate and ate the last scraps of bacon. 

 

"Shit, they're up early. Look!" Lynda followed Donna's gaze, and saw 

Dave coming out of the tent next door on hands and knees. 

 

"Oh, Christ! Look at me," hissed Lynda. "Quick, let me in." She 

pushed inside the tent and began adjusting her hair. "He can't see me 

like this." 

 

"Why not? You look fine." Donna peeled off her T-shirt and started to 

unhook her bra. 

 

"What are you doing?" Lynda gasped. "Going out there like that?" 

 

"No, I thought I'd lie in the sun for a while. We don't want those boys 

coming in here, so we'd better get outside first. Did you bring that 

spare bikini?" 

 

"In my bag, down the front. You can get mine out as well. The blue 

one's mine." 

 

The two bikinis were about the same size. Donna watched as Lynda 

climbed into the bottom half of hers, feeling the stirrings again at the 

sight of those wonderful legs, taut-muscled lower half and richly-

furred pussy. The girl pulled the pants up and tucked herself away into 

the bra. 

 

"Mrs Danby made me this," she said, tossing her hair back and 

examining herself from above. "Are my pants showing any fuzz?" 

 

Donna reached out and tugged the pants crotch slightly to hide a stray 

hair. It made her tummy tingle. Lynda showed no reaction, but she 

looked at Donna curiously. 

 

Donna blushed slightly. She had the bottom half of the other bikini on, 

but was still wearing her own bra. "I suppose I'd better see how this 

top looks." Unhooking her bra swiftly, she lowered her breasts 

carefully, then still bending forward so they swung together like 

uncoordinated church bells, she picked up the bikini bra. 

 

"Could you help with this, Lyn?" She captured one breast in the right 

cup, caught the other after a brief struggle, then straightened slightly. 

Lynda towered over the tiny girl, took the sides of the bra and lifted. 

Donna almost seemed to rise from the ground. Apart from her breasts, 

she weighed practically nothing. 

 

"It nearly fits," said Lynda, hooking the bra at the back and turning 

Donna to face her. Their breasts got in the way of each other, and both 

girls giggled. 

 

"Oh, do you think so?" Donna had managed to raise one shoulder 

strap, after adjusting it to its maximum, and was trying to do the same 

with the other. Lynda helped her. The effect was of a tiny, skinny girl 

with two beachballs tucked more or less inside her bra. The cleavage 

was impenetrably deep, and Donna's breasts protruded beneath the 

elasticated bottom of the bra. "Good old Mrs Danby," she said, feeling 

around the bottom of the cups and prodding some of the surplus flesh 

temporarily out of sight. It was out of her sight anyway, but at least she 

made the effort at hiding it from the rest of the world as well. "The old 

girl would have a fit if she saw this lot in one of her tops." 

 

"I'd never have thought anyone could overstuff one of my tops like 

that. You're so much bigger than me, Don! Can you breathe?" 

 

"Nearly. Come on, then, let's go and face the world." 

 

"Or just Dave and Goober," said Lynda apprehensively. "Did you like 

Goober?" 

 

Donna pulled a face and said nothing. It made even Lynda giggle. 

"Dave's all right, though, Lyn. Did you ...?" 

 

"Nah. We might, later. He was too pissed last night. I didn't want him 

throwing up all over me. Right!" She made a little adjustment to her 

pants again, and a tentative tug at Donna's. "Your pants are a bit 

loose, Don. You'd better remember to keep pulling them up, or you'll 

lose them altogether." 

 

"One way of becoming popular, anyway." She followed Lynda out into 

the sunshine, where their towels were stretched out on the grass. They 

lay down side by side, on their backs. It was a disturbing sight. 

 

"I suppose we ought to have rubbed sun cream on each other before we 

came out," Donna laughed softly.  

 

"I thought perhaps we could get the boys to do it," Lynda laughed. 

"They have to do something useful to earn themselves a fuck!" 

 

 

********** 

 

"Jeeze!" Goober peered out through the window of the tent. "They're 

out there in their bikinis. Look!" 

 

Dave elbowed him aside and took a look. He was impressed. "Bloody 

shitting fuck," he said after some consideration. 

 

"We can't go out there," muttered Goober. "It ain't fair, them keeping 

us shut up in our tent." 

 

"What do you mean? It's a free country." 

 

"We can't just go out and stare at them, can we?" 

 

"We can talk to them. It's what they want. That's why they're lying 

there. Girls want it. Those two are gagging for it. As soon as Duffy 

and Slug come back from the bogs we'll send them down to the beach 

in the van. They can bring us some ice cream. I'll have Lynnie. You 

can have the little one." 

 

"Little? Have you seen her. She's got even more tit than Lynnie. I can't 

talk to her. I'd get a hard-on." 

 

"Play your cards right and she'll show you where to put it. Come on, 

let's move in!" 

 

 

********** 

 

Lynda turned over on to her stomach. Breast squished out in all 

directions as she lowered her top half to the ground. She looked down 

at herself anxiously. Her nipples seemed to be still inside the cups.  

 

"Here they come," she whispered. "Just the two of them. They're 

coming over." She flexed one leg, and raised her foot, pointing the toe 

so the muscles rippled for Dave's benefit, before lowering it to the 

ground again. "Hi, boys!" she called huskily. "Come to rub our backs?" 

 

"'F'you loike!" Dave came over and sat by her side. Lynda knew he 

could smell her womanish fragrance from there. Goober remained 

standing, not having received an invitation from Donna. 

 

"Goober, for Christ's sake." Lynda swore at him. "Move out of the 

light. Sit down next to Don. You can rub her back for her." She 

grinned at Donna, who looked daggers. "Oops, you can't rub her back, 

she's up the wrong way. Never mind. Rub her front instead!" 

 

He sat down awkwardly in the space between the girls. Donna quickly 

turned over, turning her back to Goober. Just as well she did have her 

back to him, as her bikini bra released her right breast from captivity. 

She stuffed it back in, panicking. Goober was staring. 

 

His prediction was coming true. He hadn't even said a word to the girls 

yet, and he was hard already. The little girl had turned on to her front, 

but one of her tits seemed to have fallen out of her top. She was 

tucking it back in. Dave, he knew, would have offered to lend her a 

hand. All he could do was stare at her. Just as her bra was obviously 

too small, her bikini bottom was far too loose. In the act of turning 

over, it had worked its way down. From his present position, he could 

see right up into it. 

 

Goober glanced round nervously. Dave and Lynda were engrossed in 

each other and couldn't see Donna's bottom from where they were. The 

view was for him alone. Dave was right, then. Girls did lie around 

sunbathing because they were gagging for a fuck. If so, Donna must be 

gagging worse than most. The view up her panties was like the 

pictures in dirty magazines. There was hair up there, and some sort of 

dark shadowy area. He reached out to pull the panties aside, just as 

Donna finished making her top half decent, and she reached down to 

pull up her panties. 

 

Her hand brushed against Goober's 

 

"What the f ...?" 

 

Donna sat up in outrage and indignation. "What were you doing, you 

filthy ...?" She got no further. Goober was gaping at her in awe and 

horror. She had sat up too suddenly, and her inadequately-holstered 

breasts had unloaded themselves out of the bra. By the time she had 

reached a sitting position, pointing at Goober accusingly, they had 

flopped massively into her lap. 

 

Lynda sat up, her own watermelons bouncing hugely. "What's up, Don 

...? Ooops!" She took in the scene. 

 

"This filthy shit was trying to touch me up. He had his hand on my ..." 

She realised that her breasts had escaped, and clutched at herself, 

trying to gather them up into her bra again. Goober shook his head 

dumbly, his face scarlet. His case was not helped by the fact that one 

hand was clutching his throbbing member though his baggy shorts. 

 

"What are you doing, Goobs?" Dave goggled at the amazing sight of 

Donna. "You're supposed to chat her up first."  

 

He was talking to himself. Goober had scrambled to his feet and shot 

into the tent, moving with some discomfort. Donna, sobbing, got up 

and fled the other way. 

 

"What happened?" Dave looked at her fleeing figure, his own hard-on 

threatening to escape from his shorts at the sight. Donna had 

abandoned her attempts to control her breasts, and they were 

rebounding in all directions as she ducked under the tent awning out 

of sight. 

 

"I dunno. He must have grabbed her tits or something. You blokes are 

all the fucking same!" Lynda stood up, dusting dried grass off her 

thighs, remembering to adjust her bra before following her friend into 

the tent. 

 

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Dave sat glumly on 

his own and considered the fickleness of the female. Gagging for it, 

but as soon as you tried to give it to them, they threw a wobbly. He 

stood up, grimaced as he made himself comfortable in his shorts, and 

slummocked away into the tent. 

 

 

********** 

 

"You've got to, Don! He's coming down here specially to take your 

pictures. You can't just walk out on him. Think of the money!" 

 

"I don't want the money. I don't want my pictures in men's magazines. 

Men are shit. SHIT!" 

 

"C'mon, Don. Some of them are all right. Goober's not much of an 

example, but Dave's all right. And so's Ge ... so's the photographer. 

You'll be all right this afternoon. And your top will stay on if you don't 

move around too much. Look!" She held out one of the cups of 

Donna's bra, and ladled a few handfuls of breast into it. She did the 

same with the other. Donna's nipples had hardened into stiff little 

points. "Hey, come and sit on the bed with me. I'll adjust your straps 

for you." 

 

Lynda was so persuasive. Donna looked up into her eyes. She grinned 

back down at her, and Donna melted. If only there weren't any boys in 

the world, things would be so much better! She followed Lynda to the 

mattress, and sat down beside her. 

 

"Turn your back. That way. That's it. Your back is nice. All soft. This 

bikini top cuts into your shoulders. Let me rub them better ..." Her lips 

caressed Donna's back. 

 

"Lynnie! Touch me, Lyn!" 

 

"All right, darling. I'll touch you. All in good time." 

 

Why not? Lynda had never tried it with another girl, but sitting so 

close to Donna, feeling her softness, smelling her warm turned-on 

smell, why not? She adjusted the shoulder straps. 

 

"It will be easier to adjust these things if we take it off. There's a 

needle and thread in my bag. I can probably do something with your 

top." 

 

"Can you do something with my bottom, too, Lynnie?" Donna half 

turned to the big girl and flung her arms around her. "It needs it. 

Badly." 

 

"Anything you say, Don. Take your pants off, take everything off. I'll 

get the needle and thread." 

 

 

********** 

 

By the time the two of them came out into the sunlight again, it was 

nearly midday. Donna's bikini had been altered slightly, but very much 

as an afterthought.  

 

Lynda had realised that there was more to this whole sex business than 

getting rodgered by a boy in thirty seconds flat. She and Donna had 

explored quite a range of possibilities in the past two hours. She had 

never been so aroused in her short life. It made her determined to get 

much more out of her next boy-girl sex session. Maybe tonight, with 

Dave. 

 

Donna, too, was feeling satiated with sex. Lynda was so strong, so 

adventurous and inventive. She had shown Donna things with her 

fingers and tongue that had sent her into ecstasies. Boys! Who needed 

them? 

 

Lynda obviously did. She sauntered across to the door of the boys' tent. 

As Donna lowered herself carefully on to her towel - finding to her 

relief that her bikini stayed in place rather better now - she could hear 

Lynda talking quietly to whoever was inside. She lay down on her 

tummy, feeling little quivers in her pussy, a lovely warmth radiating 

around her insides. 

 

A shadow fell across her back, she felt the coolness as the sun was 

obscured. 

 

"Donna?" A boy's voice.  

 

"Hm-mm?" She didn't look up. Her head lay on her arms, her eyes 

closed, although she was conscious of her breasts squishing out 

beneath her body, protruding well to the sides of her body. 

 

"Oi'm sorry, Don. About earlier. I didn't mean to touch you. I mean, I 

wanted to, but it was an accident. Sorry, honest!" 

 

Donna was still feeling warm and loving. She opened her eyes and 

looked at Goober. "It's all right, Goober. I shouldn't have shouted at 

you. I'm sorry, too." 

 

Goober looked relieved, and grinned. He looked quite nice when he 

smiled. 

 

"Thanks, Donna. Could I ...?" 

 

"Could you what?" 

 

"Ummm. Could I call you Don?" 

 

Donna laughed. She had expected a request to rub cream on her back. 

Or even her front. She stretched out a hand and touched Goober's 

ankle. "Sit down," she told him, and patted the ground next to her. 

 

Goober sat down like a puppy expecting a tit-bit. He was looking into 

Donna's eyes imploringly. She couldn't know, although she suspected, 

that if he took his gaze from her eyes, it would go automatically to her 

breasts and would never get away from there. 

 

"Sorry, Goober. I really am. It was my fault. And I was showing my 

body off in front of you, wasn't I?" 

 

"You've got a lovely body, Donna." His face went instantly scarlet as 

soon as he uttered the word 'body'. 

 

"You can call me Don, Goobs!" 

 

Goober looked nervously round at his tent. There was no sign of Dave, 

nor of Lynda. "You can call me James!" he said quietly. 

 

Donna swallowed. She was still wet from her lengthy session with 

Lynda. Now, with this boy sitting next to her, she still felt aroused. 

Could it really be his presence, so close to her? A rough, coarse boy 

from Bristol? She let her fingers rest on his hand, where it pressed on 

the ground. The sun was hot on her back. 

 

"James? There's a bottle of sun cream in my tent. Just inside the door, 

in a basket. Would you like to go and fetch it, please?" 

 

 

 

 

 

<end Part V>