A Memoir of the New Paradigm  Chapter 1 
by Sunblind - written for DTM / Amy's Conquest

*** The Below is an extended segment from this story, written for us by an
Incredibly talented author, Sunblind, whose other stories you can read here on
Diana The Valkyrie!

For the Full Story of "A Memoir of the New Paradigm (Chapter 1)", please visit
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Thanks all, and as always, hope you Enjoy! ***

********************

I was watching TV, winding down in the last hour before bed, when Janey
arrived home from book club. We hadn't seen each other all day, as she had
gone straight out from work. She gave me a big smile, as she sped past the
living room to the stairs. Mounting the first steps, she called, "Hey,
Gorgeous. I'll be right down, I just want to get out of this skirt."

When she returned, she was dressed in a red tee shirt that had a picture of a
dinosaur eating a tree and the words "Nom, nom, nom," and light blue pajama
pants...her sleep attire. She pecked me on the cheek, as she slid onto the
cushion to my left; and pulled the blanket I had on my lap aside. Using her
thumb print to trigger the nano-technology, she quickly unlocked my chastity
glove, and having gently removed it from my package, tossed it on to the
cushion to my right. Having been relieved of my constraint, I was now
completely nude, because no matter how liberal a thinker Janey is, there is no
way we could get away with me wearing clothes in the house. Someone would come
to the door, and we'd end up on some report. It was just something we didn't
need to take a chance with, considering the public nature of our lives, and
how much of the way we conduct our relationship is in violation of so many New
Paradigm norms.

Taking hold of my balls and angling her forearm so that it pinned my penis to
my belly, she turned to the TV. "What's on?"

"Nothing. A rerun of a rerun."

As I began to grow hard against her forearm, she started draining my strength,
but very gently. "Odd," thought I. Playing with me...not odd; she did it all
the time; in fact, not hardly a night goes by that she doesn't, at some point,
without rhyme, or reason, (or warning, or explanation), rub me up, or fondle
me, or make me stop what I'm doing, and the next thing I know, I'm being held
upside down by one of my ankles, and my balls are in her mouth. But a strength
drain is rare, indeed. Something must be up.

"How was your day?"

"Good. Nothing with nothing. You?"

"Same. How was book club?"

"Good. Everyone actually read the book, so it was a good discussion."

We watched the last ten minutes of the show in silence, and when it was over,
Janey stood and, due to having totally drained me of the ability to move, made
to lift me on to her shoulder. "Would you mind taking your shirt off before
you pick me up?" Janey responded with a wifely shrug (which caused her breasts
to jounce rather fetchingly); and somewhat clumsily, pulled her tee shirt over
her head. Turning to face me, she tossed the blanket aside, and gently lifted
me up onto her shoulder. The reason for my request: I'm pretty tall, and her
breasts are very, very big, so when she carries me over her shoulder, my penis
lays against the upper part of her breast. As she walks, and it rubs, it feels
very, very good.

She also, as was her habit, tucked my hands into the back of her pj's. Having
been drained, I didn't have the strength to do anything but hang there, and
she says she doesn't like the way they slap against her butt as they dangle.
Once we got upstairs, she carefully laid me onto the bed, and as I lay there,
helpless, went about her night time routine. I waited patiently.

Once she was all brushed, and lotioned, she crawled up next to me and loomed
over me with her big tits resting on my chest. Looking down at me, she smiled.
"You're probably wondering..."

I smiled at her.

What's not to smile at. Janey is truly, truly beautiful. It's a simple
beauty...she's the ultimate "girl next door." In fact, that is what she was to
me, growing up; but more on that later. Her hair, which she usually wears in a
style that she calls "usually a little too long," which is her funny way of
saying just below her shoulder blades, is dark brown, and thick, and wavy. Her
eyes are plain old brown, but they really sparkle when she smiles, her cheek
bones are high, her skin is flawless; and very soft. She's five foot seven,
and her weight is "completely in line with any other woman of her height and
build in the New Paradigm Generation," (which is short-hand for "none of your
business, honey.") And, as I've already said a couple of times, she has a
tremendous bust.

We were juniors in high school when the meteor hit the south pole and added
what has now been named Testostrogen to the atmosphere...and the enhancements
rampaged their way across human femininity...and, almost overnight, every
D-cup became a G-cup. Well, back before the meteor hit, Janey was already a
G-cup. So, you do the math.

They never got in her way, though. In fact, from the time she was about
twelve, when they first showed up, her basic attitude about them was pretty
nonchalant. Once she noticed me staring. (We were hanging out at my backyard
pool, and she was in a one piece, and they were just so big...)

She put her hands on her hips and stared back until I realized I had been
caught and met her gaze. "Really?"

"Hey, what do you want from me. I'm a man."

She actually stamped her foot. "No, you're not. You're a boy. And we're
supposed to be best friends. Now, stop staring before I decide to use these
things to get you to go inside and get me some lemonade."

I laughed. "And how would you do that?"

She thrust back her shoulders, and the view went from great to spectacular. I
think my mouth might have dropped open a little. "Go get me a lemonade."

Looking back, if I remember correctly, I got her the lemonade.

We were best friends from the time we were about four years old because she
and I were the youngest of all the kids on our idyllic suburban street. None
of the big kids would let us play with them, so all we had was each other.

Street friends sometimes grow apart when they head off to school, but Janey
and I remained essential to one another all through middle school and into
high school. I became a better than average high school wrestler, and she
immersed herself in student government. We were both top students, and, had a
lot of classes together. We studied together all the time, but we never
thought of ourselves as a couple. We did, however, think of ourselves as a
team, and, by stated understanding, used our relationship to both of our
advantages, both socially, and in the school's extra-curricular community. We
were best friends, who simply happened to be a guy and a girl, and we really
enjoyed making it work for each other. That said, we also always knew that
there was no way we weren't going to someday be a couple.

But junior year had been hard. She, and most of the rest of the girls, were
hardly in school all year, as they were removed from the general population.
We, as a species, learned kind of the hard way that at the onset of her
enhancement, it is not safe for a man to be near an enhancing woman. It has to
do with her nutritional need for semen, and her initial complete lack of
control. A lot of men got permanently damaged before someone figured it all
out.

The need for semen is caused by how the Testostrogen reacts with a woman's
body chemistry. Testostrogen enhances the shape of the female figure, and
provides her all of the non-strength enhancements, like, for example, a
woman's ability to drain a man's strength simply by touching him. Supplement
the Testostrogen with semen, and you get unimaginable strength. And it is the
Testostrogen, itself, that drives the woman's craving for semen...the fresher
the better. Luckily, techniques for controlling the cravings and the
enhancements were quickly developed. And at the outset of their enhancement,
females are whisked away to Re-acclimation Centers where they learn the
techniques in male-free environments.

Reintroduction is different for every girl. Some have more trouble than
others. Janey and most of the girls at school had been reintroduced into the
school community throughout the spring semester. Things were a little weird at
first. (It got dangerously weird later, and that is actually what this story
is about...coming soon.) Even Janey and I were a bit awkward (ironic
understatement) with each other as we tried to re-connect.

The first time we got to be alone after she returned from being re-acclimated
was in late March, junior year. She had been cleared. She was completely in
control of her "thirst" and her new abilities. Our parents had talked about
everything...in and out and around the block...umpteen times. Janey's mother,
and my step-mom (both of our dad's, and my actual mom had died before the
meteor) had also just been through re-acclimation, so they understood control,
and were comfortable that I was safe to be alone with Janey. They did,
however, insist that, at least for the first time, Janey would have to be
contained.

It was an unusually warm day in late March. She'd been home for about a week
but hadn't been out of the house yet. I came around the corner of her house,
though, and there she was. The moms had put her in the containment chair,
facing out into the yard, so the only part of her that was visible was the
back of her head. Her hair had gotten longer and hung about half way down the
back of the chair.

The chair, itself, was quite a thing. She was basically cocooned inside of a
steel box with her head sticking out a hole in the top. I've heard that the
chairs weigh nearly four thousand pounds, and the walls are just over four
inches thick. Truth be told, if a woman wants out of a containment chair, the
chair doesn't stand a chance. The idea is that it would take her long enough
to beat her way out of it that she would probably come to her senses; or, at
the very least other women could be summoned to protect any man unfortunate
enough to be around. It was a little funny though because from behind, it
actually looked as if Janey's head had been removed and was sitting on top of
a four-foot square cube.

I just stopped. I was so filled with emotion. It was really important to me to
let her know that I was her biggest fan, that nothing had changed between us,
that we were always going to be us...no matter what.

"Are you ever going to come around the front of me? Stop skulking around back
there."

"How'd you know I was back here?"

"I could smell your semen as soon as you came around the corner. It smells
really, really good, by the way." Her voice, though, was oddly flat. She
clearly wasn't smiling. Her tone was a bit condescending.

"Well, thanks, you know I pride myself on having the best smelling semen in
town." I thought that might get at least a chuckle, but she didn't react at
all.

I came around and stood in front of her. We just looked at each other for
about a minute; and she finally said, with some amount of impatience, "Well?"

"Um. I'm really glad you're back. I wish I could give you a hug. I know we're
not really that mushy with each other, but I really did miss you a lot." And I
reached out to touch her cheek.

And she flinched. "Look, I know you want to tell me how hard this has been on
you, and how it's going to be so weird for guys now that girls are all strong
and everything; how nothing has changed. Well, nothing has changed for you.
But I'm dealing with some pretty major shit here."

I felt like I'd been slapped. It was a fact that in addition to the physical
changes, the female population had taken on a general aggressiveness that was
beginning to manifest itself politically and socially. Condescension towards
men had become the order of the day. I'd experienced it, just like every other
man, and I had thought about it a little in terms of reconnecting with Janey,
but I hadn't really thought that she'd exhibit it so directly and so quickly
towards me. I mean it's not like we hadn't ever argued before, but my heart in
this was pure, I wanted to be her rock. I wanted "the team" to get back to
what it had always been.

I dropped her gaze, and muttered something about being sorry, and that I
understood that this was not about me, and that all I wanted was to help her
with anything she needed.

She kind of snorted, and I reached out again, and this time she let me touch
her cheek, and the second I made contact, I was instantly immobile. My hand
stayed against her cheek, and the rest of me just stood there, paralyzed.
Janey's eyes were cold, and her jaw was set.

She looked up at me, locking our eyes, and said quietly, "Well that was too
easy. I'm not going to bother to explain the details, but welcome to the New
Paradigm. It's one of the enhancements. All I have to do is touch a man and I
can take over his movements." She paused, and her eyes travelled over my body.
And without any thought or understanding, my free hand started unbuckling my
belt. I got my pants and boxers down over my hips, and then I got hard. I got
harder than I've ever been, and I got hard faster than I've ever gotten hard.
In fact, it happened so fast and I got so hard that it was actually a little
bit painful.

I was mortified. It's not like we'd never messed around. In the past, we'd
taught each other how to French kiss, she'd allowed me to practice unhooking
her bra when I'd gotten my first date with a girl who went to second base, and
there was this one time that Janey had ...well...more about that later. But
now, even though I was actually performing the actions, she was stripping me,
just for the purpose of humiliating me. Or so I thought. Turns out her purpose
was way more practical.

My voice, of course, wasn't working. She'd shut off my ability to speak. But
the questions were all there in my eyes.

"I'm going to have a little drink."

And, again without thought or understanding, I found myself climbing onto the
containment chair and arranging myself across the front of its top, on my
right side. The head of my penis disappeared into her mouth (at which point my
hand immediately pulled away from her cheek) and then with just the power of
the vacuum she created with her lips I began to move back and forth. All the
way in until my balls touched her cheek, and all the way back out again until
all that was in her mouth was the head. A journey of about eight inches (if I
do say so myself).

And it didn't take long. I was young, and inexperienced. And no matter the
circumstances, I was in Janey's mouth. I came like it was my job. And she
sucked out every drop, and when I was spent, she moved me back out, so that
just my head was still in her mouth, and she went to work on me with her
tongue (which, by the way was, by itself, stronger than all the muscles in my
body put together).

Now at the time, I had never heard the phrase "post orgasm torture," but I now
understood it better than I had ever hoped to understand it. She swirled her
tongue around my super sensitive cock head for a good three minutes. She still
had my voice and my movements completely under control; so, I just lay there
and tried not to go insane as she tortured me; just because she could. It was
all I could do not to cry.

When she'd had enough, she drew me back in all the way; and spit me out of her
mouth so hard that my entire body was thrown off of the containment chair. I
hit the ground and (lucky me) managed to land on my side on top of a
half-buried rock. My momentum caused me to roll over a couple of times before
coming to a stop about five feet in front of her. My jeans and boxers were
around my ankles, but, at least, I was immediately able to move again. I
quickly, and with as much dignity as I could muster, got to my feet and put
myself back together.

When I stood up, it took me a minute to catch my breath, and when I turned to
look at her, I was met with the most condescending smirk, I have ever seen. I
dropped my gaze to my feet, and with tears beginning to well up, I started to
shuffle across the yard to my house.

"I know what you're thinking."

I stopped, having just passed her. I walked back around in front of her,
though I kept my eyes down.

"Is that one of the enhancements?"

"No." A pause. Her impatience with me was boundless. "I just know; because I
know you; and because you're a shallow, easy-to-read boy." Another pause. I
was so devastated that I just didn't have the energy to engage. I had thought
things might be a little bit awkward at the start, but I was really unprepared
for just how mean she was being. "You're thinking that this is temporary, and
that all you have to do is to keep on showing me that you're there for me,
and, by the way, good job of that while I was away, and that I'll come around,
and when I do, how great it'll be, and we'll be best friends again...because
that's how you are...you always needed me more than I needed you. Well, now
all I need from you is the stuff you make in your balls. And as we've just
seen, I can have it any time I want."

I let it sink in for a minute; and then I just sort of shrugged and walked
slowly back to my house.

When I got back to my house, I realized that the rock had scraped off layers
and layers of skin from right below my ribs to my hip on my left side. I was
bleeding pretty badly, even though I wasn't really cut. I got some towels and,
over the next couple of hours, managed to get the bleeding to stop; without
alerting my step-mom to the problem. And since one of my chores was the
laundry, I managed to keep it from her indefinitely.

The next morning was to be her first day back at school, and when I came out
to my car Janey was sitting on the hood waiting. It was the first look I had
gotten of her whole body, and boy, was she ever enhanced.

I've talked a little about her pre-Enhancement body. She had had an early
onset to puberty, and as of last September, before the enhancements started,
was by far the biggest girl in school. One of the benefits of having her as a
best friend was that she didn't hold back the statistics. I was probably the
first to know, even before her mom, when Janey grew out of her double F-cup
bra. The next biggest girl in school, Sara Jennings had been, pre-enhancement,
according to Janey, "a little too big for an E cup, but unable to entirely
fill a double-E."

Now, Janey was the same height as before, same basic build...an athletic
hourglass...but her breasts were enormous. They'd just about doubled in size;
but somehow, due to the New Paradigm, they were actually more perky than they
were before, and somehow rounder. It seemed impossible but what I had thought
was a perfect figure, had somehow become even more perfect.

"Hey," I said, "Don't be startled, I'm coming up behind you."

She didn't' turn around. "You can't sneak up on me. I can smell your balls a
mile away." I couldn't see it, but I'm pretty sure her eye roll was pretty
legendary.

"Alright," I thought, "Just keep being as kind as you can. She's hurting, and
this may be the new normal, and if it is, I'll eventually bail, but for now,
I'm all in."

I shrugged and headed to the driver's door as she slid off the hood and headed
to the passenger side. And that was when I noticed that the front driver's
side tire was flat.

"Wait a second, Janey. I've got a flat. Let me get it changed."

She shrugged out of her back pack and flopped down onto the lawn next to the
driveway, and said, "Unbelievable," in a tone that suggested that she felt
that the flat tire was entirely an issue of my incompetence.

I went back to the trunk and grabbed the tire iron. I had taped my side up
pretty good, and I took great pains to not show Janey that she'd injured me. I
didn't want her to know; because I didn't want to give her another reason to
think I was weak, or if there was anything of her former self still in there,
to feel bad. I loved my Janey...really a lot...and if, somehow, she was going
to feel bad about having hurt me...well...I just didn't want her to feel bad.

I got the lug nuts off and went back to the trunk for the jack. In the
compartment for the jack, I found only a note from Hal, my older step-brother,
indicating that he'd borrowed the jack, and would return it when he got back
from college in May.

"Uh, Janey, we might have a problem."

"What now?" She stood up and came around to the back of the car. I handed her
the note. "So flippin' typical. Stupid men. What did he think was going to
happen...he left you a note...he didn't ask you, or tell you...I
mean...god..."? She moved past me, around to the front of the car, and,
squatting like a catcher, put her right hand on the car frame, inches behind
the wheel bed, right where the jack would have been. And up went the car. She
just raised her hand. No leverage. No effort. She reached over with her left
hand (the car didn't move up or down, it just stayed) and pulled the tire off,
and just held it there. Bent over as she was, the engine side of the car
jacked up a good six inches, and a 90-pound tire and wheel held at arm's
length. "Hey, Genius, you wanna hand me the spare."

I jumped to it. Grabbed the tire from her. Didn't think about my injured side
and folded up when the pain shot through me. (Turns out that in addition to
the blood, though I didn't know it at the time, I'd cracked a rib.) I fell
forward on top of the tire, rolled over it, and banged into the car right at
the front of the wheel well. The car didn't move an inch. I looked up at
Janey. "Am I just noticing, or were you always this big of a moron?"

I got to my feet, and feeling like my chest was exploding, retrieved the
spare, and set it in place. I got the lug nuts started and Janey set the car
down. When I stood up to reach for the lug wrench, she was standing there
holding it. She handed it over, and I said, "Thanks, Baney."

"What did you call me?"

Oops. It just came out. I had called her by the name I'd used before I could
pronounce the J. She'd hated it when we were little kids. As we got older, I'd
bring it out sometimes when I was frustrated with her, or when I wanted to
tease her a bit. I don't' know where it came from. But now it was out
there...and she clearly was not happy...and, the thought occurred to me...I
might actually be in danger.

"Janey...I... I'm sorry...It just came out...I didn't mean anything...It just
came out..." I looked into her angry eyes. "Janey...please..."

She rolled her eyes, as if to say: You brought this on yourself. It's your own
fault.

She shoved me against the car...so hard...and the breath came wooshing out of
me....and I saw stars. And before I knew what was happening, she had twisted
the tire iron tightly around my wrists. It really hurt. Our eyes met again.
And even though she had just finished crushing the thing around me, I held it
up to her and tried again, "Janey...please..."

She made a derisive sound in her throat, and grabbing me by the collar, pulled
me around the back of the car and pushed/lifted me into the trunk and slammed
the lid. That was it. I just lay there. I'm not the type to panic, so I didn't
cry or yell. I was in so much pain; I have no idea how I didn't pass out. But
I figured she'd just tighten up the lug nuts (she was certainly strong enough
to do it without the tire iron) and drive us to school. Which is exactly what
she did. When we got to school, she popped the trunk from inside the car, and
was gone by the time I'd climbed out. So, I walked into school with my hands
bound up in steel, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

I walked directly to the Nursing Office. It just seemed like the place to go.
It was before school, so luckily there was only one other student in the suite
with Mrs. Popeil. I walked in and she was sitting at her desk. Wordlessly, I
just held up my hands. To her credit, she didn't say anything. She pointed to
the treatment table and I backed up to it but couldn't climb onto it without
my hands; so, she went gently to lift me up; and my wince made her pause.
Touching me gently around yesterday's injury; she asked me if I knew that I
had a broken rib. Well, that explains so much.

Then she carefully worked her fingers under the metal of the tire iron, and
with just the tips of her fingers, like she was working with lace, or some
other delicate material, untwisted the tire iron from around my wrists. She
was very careful, but it was all I could do not to cry out. When my hands were
free, it became very clear, very quickly, that both of my wrists were broken.

Again, she didn't say anything, she just led me to the rear area of the
nursing suite and pulled the curtain. She helped me to sit down on the bed,
and then stepped out of the area. About two minutes later, she returned, and
stood directly in front of me. She had always been matronly, but since the
meteor, her bust had grown so large that I couldn't see her face over it.

Reaching down, with the practiced care of a woman that had been nursing longer
than I'd been alive, she guided my hands under her nursing dress. I was, of
course, a little shocked, but before I could react, I was inside of her;
nearly up to my elbows. Both arms at the same time. Didn't really understand
it then, don't really understand it now, but enhancements are enhancements. I
guess when she stepped out, she did so to remove her panties.

She reached around my head and pulled me gently into her bosom. And all
weirdness aside, the feelings of safety and comfort that flooded me were
absolutely wonderful. And I could feel my wrists mending inside of her. The
whole process took about five minutes, and I was good to go. She seemed to
know exactly when I was healed and stepped back. My hands slid out of her as
easy as if they were simply passing through water.

I stood. She brushed the hair out of my eyes and motioned me to remove my
shirt; which I did; very gingerly. She helped me to a kneeling position. And
then she healed my ribs. And let's just leave it at that; except to say that
the feelings of safety and comfort from before were even more prevalent,
considering how much more of my body was, shall we say, surrounded (by her).
Afterwards, we walked to the front of the suite. She handed me a lollipop, and
my mangled tire iron...and sent me on my way.

The next couple of weeks trundled by with Janey treating me like shit; and me
taking it, without a lot of complaint. At least there were no more physical
injuries. I was trying to be chivalrous. It occurred to me on more than one
occasion that maybe I was being a smart ass; but we had too much history. This
was an unprecedented situation in human history. I was just a kid, and I was
playing it by ear. My sense was that, despite what she said, she needed
me...and she was going to have to kill me, to get me to stop loving her. I've
said it before; but I can't say it enough...she was my Janey; and despite the
fact that she was strong enough to crush me into oblivion without any effort
at all, I had known her all my life; and I sensed a vulnerability...a need.
She was calling out to me from deep inside her new, practically invulnerable,
body; and I was not going to give up.

I was pretty busy anyway, preparing for a run at my third straight state
wrestling title. When I said, I was an above average high school wrestler, I
was being modest. I was actually a very good high school wrestler. Having won
at sectionals, districts, and regionals for the third straight year; as March
was coming to a close, I was poised for the state tournament to start the
first weekend of April.

And that's why I wasn't planning on going to Paul Lawrence's party. It was the
last weekend of March, but I had been training hard, and I figured I'd only
stay for a bit. Janey and I had always gone to parties together. Not as dates;
though we'd always check in with each other throughout the evenings, make eye
contact from across the room, or a minute or two at the keg, just to make
certain each other was okay. This was the first party since she was back, and
she hadn't even called me. She'd just been picked up, and driven off, by two
senior guys. I drove over alone.

I had been there for about an hour, had one beer, and was getting ready to
leave. I admit that I had kept Janey in the corner of my eye almost the whole
time...and that is why I saw what I saw. Suffice it to say, that whatever
other enhancements, women had; resistance to date rape drugs wasn't one of
them. One of the guys distracted her, and the other put the shit in her drink.
In ten minutes, she was nodding. In twenty she was out. They had her on the
couch in the living room, and hovered around her, for the rest of the evening,
keeping people away. I, of course, stayed put, watching to make sure they
didn't try to move her; and as the party started to break up, I realized that
these two guys, and Paul, the host, were working together. So, I lingered and
left with the last group.

I made sure at least one person saw me get in my car, and I drove around the
block, and parked in front of the house.

The street was completely deserted.

I walked stealthily up the lawn to the front door. I stopped about five feet
in front of the door. I took a deep breath.

And I came through that door like a freight train. Shoulder low; hit it right
level with the lock. And I brought all of my two hundred and five pounds.

The door exploded open like a bomb had gone off. I took it right off the
hinges. It was one of those split-level houses with no entrance hall, so in
bursting through the front door, I had burst directly into the living room.
They had rolled her to the floor, and one of the guys was kneeling next to her
with his hand down her shirt. The other two were on the couch with beers in
hand.

I took in the scene for a beat or two. And then; I went to work. And when it
was over, I'd left them with four black eyes, a broken nose, and two fractured
jaws; which were spread pretty evenly between the three of them; all three of
them were unconscious. Of course, I also had one very unconscious Janey.

Now, prior to enhancing, Janey had never been shy about her weight. I guess
having giant tits and a perfect ass, with a flat stomach, and shapely legs
makes you realize that weight is just a number. So, in addition to knowing
that at five foot seven she had, pre-enhanced, 34G-24-34 measurements, I also
know that she weighed about one hundred thirty-five pounds. After enhancing,
with the bone and muscle density thing, women were clocking in at about twice
what they had been. So, to be more accurate, I had one very unconscious, very
heavy, Janey.

At that time, I was working out with close to four hundred pounds in the squat
rack. I knew I could carry her, but the transfers were concerning. I got her
up onto my shoulders in a fireman's carry, and there is absolutely no way she
weighed one ounce less than three hundred pounds. I staggered to the car and
got the door open. And it was in attempting to get her into the car without
cracking her head on the door jamb that my rib popped. (I guess that when Mrs.
Popeil healed me, a bit of a weakness had remained behind.)

I got her into the car, and then it took me nearly twenty minutes, of lying
flat in the quiet suburban street next to the car to catch my breath. I don't
remember the drive home; I remember getting her out of the car and back onto
my shoulders...and I remember carrying her to her back patio...and getting her
onto a lawn chair. Each of the segments also involved a long rest, full of
gasping and practically blacking out.

It was unseasonably warm for late March, but I covered her with one of the
blankets her mom kept in the outside chest. And since no one was around, I
bent and stole a kiss of her lips. And I put my cheek next to hers for just a
quick minute.

Then I hobbled down to my deck, where I had a clear view of her. And I did not
take my eyes off of her, and I did not sleep one wink, until about ten the
next morning, when she started to stir.

When I saw that she was on the brink of waking, I went into the house, and
watched her from behind the curtains of our dining room window. She sat on the
side of the chair for a while. Her head was clearly fuzzy, and she obviously
was gigantically confused as to how she had gotten to her back patio. But
eventually she went inside, and then, and only then, did I head upstairs for a
shower and a nap.

Later that day, I had gathered myself enough, and I was out on the pool deck,
studying. My rib was very tender, but I think it was just pulled, and not
broken like before. My plan, of course, was to go on as if the events of the
previous night had never happened. I knew those guys should be reported, but I
had put them out of commission for at least a while, and I thought I could
figure it out a little later. They weren't talking; and, clearly, Janey had no
idea.

I knew she had no idea because as I was studying, Janey came up onto the pool
deck.

"What did you do last night?"

"Nothing. I'm in training for states." A pause. Clearly, she hadn't even
noticed I was at the party.

"Oh yeah. I forgot. You're a big, strong wrestler-man. Let's see if I can pin
the big, strong wrestler man."

"Janey...Janey...please..."

And suddenly I was in her arms and she was squeezing the breath out of me. She
was holding back, of course, just squeezing hard enough to force out my
breath. If she'd really given it to me...well.... Agony does not even begin to
describe what I was feeling, she was right on my hurt rib. I didn't cry out, I
just laid my head on her shoulder, and passed out within a matter of seconds.
When I came around, I was flat on my back on the pool deck, naked from the
waist down, and I had clearly had an orgasm. Janey was gone. I went to get up.
Nothing doing. My rib was good and cracked. Janey had finished it off. It took
me a full hour before the pain subsided enough so that I could move again.

The next weekend, at the state tournament, I managed to win a match, but that
was it.

April passed, and then it was May, and it was time for Junior Prom.

Janey and I had decided a long time ago, that we would be one another's' prom
dates. As I've previously stated, we were never a couple, and, truth be told,
our presence in each other's' lives had probably held down our dating
opportunities. But that had always been fine with us. I mean we could have
dated all we wanted. As a dominant wrestler, I was a pretty big deal; and
Janey could have snapped her fingers and had any boy in school. We just liked
it the way that it was. And, besides, we had always known that someday, it
would just be us. Though it was starting to become apparent that Janey might
no longer be interested in that.

So, in late April, with about a month to go, I asked if Janey intended that we
would still be going together. Her response, while hardly enthusiastic, was
definitely in the affirmative; so, about a week prior, I confirmed the color
of her dress. I wanted to make sure the flowers of her corsage were properly
hued; and also, back in those days, it was important that your cummerbund and
bow-tie matched the color of your date's dress.

So, on a Friday night in late May, dressed in an ill-fitting rental tux, I
knocked on Janey's door. The door was answered by Nancy, Janey's older sister,
who had been home from her freshman year of college for about a week. Nancy
was wearing a summer dress, tight over her big bust, and flowing around her
dancer's legs. Nancy was actually taller than Janey, by an inch, and while
Janey was complexioned with brown hair, Nancy's skin had an olive tone, and
her hair was jet black. Her build was a tad on the slender side of Janey's. A
post-enhanced G-cup, slightly less rounded hips, and not as much contour in
the rear. But, like her little sister, unfathomably beautiful, in her own way.

Nancy and I had always gotten along great. She often referred to me as the
little brother she never had. And to me, she was Janey's exotically beautiful
older sister. Just last year, when she was a senior and I was a sophomore, I
had done her a favor by stepping in at the last minute and going on a date
with one of her friends, so Nancy could score a date with her friend's cousin,
who was in from out of town. It was a miserable evening for me; my date
treated me like the child that I was. But that all went by the wayside the
next day.

Nancy called me on the phone from next door to say thank you for helping her
out last night. During the conversation she indicated that she had a little
gift for me and asked me to come over. I wasn't even wearing shoes, but I
walked across the yard and was greeted by her, at the screen door. She asked
me in and bade me to follow. I did, and as she led me to her bedroom, I
realized that no one else was in the house. Once we were in her room, she
motioned me to sit on the edge of her bed.

Standing in front of me she was wearing a tee shirt and Daisy Dukes. With no
preamble or warning, she looked at me and said, "You've seen me in a bathing
suit a million times, but there's something just different when it's an actual
bra." And off came the tee shirt. The bra she was wearing was all silky white,
with a little pink bow on the part that rested between her breasts.

I was utterly speechless. I am sure my mouth dropped open. I may have drooled.

She cupped her pre-enhancement double D's, "You get to see to see me in a bra
because you agreed to help me out last night....And this," she stepped to me,
and gently pushed me over onto my back...she pulled my gym shorts over my hips
and flung them aside...and took my already throbbing penis in her hand, "is
for being such a good sport when things went wrong."

She finished me in less than a minute. I dressed, and left, and we never spoke
of it again.

Janey, though, had plenty to say when I told her about it the next day. We
were out by the pool. Nobody was home in either house. She was actually a
little angry, because as she put it; "It isn't fair that Nancy got to see you
naked before I did."

"Janey, it's no big thing."

"That's not what she said."

I laughed...and so did she. "So, you knew anyway?"

"Yeah. Who do you think got mom out of the house?"

That's the kind of connection we had. She was angry because in her mind, even
though we weren't a couple, our friendship required that she be the only girl
that should see me naked; but, at the same time, she helped with the plot to
get me off. Mostly, it was actually a competitive thing between her and Nancy.
She felt like Nancy had gotten something over on her; and the fact that it
involved me made it even worse.

"So, I don't get it. It's not like we're a thing," I ventured.

"Yeah, but we both know that we'll eventually be a thing. I mean we're
perfectly suited. After all, you're the all-American boy, and I'm the girl
next door..."

"Your sarcasm is making me want you all the more."

"Well, all silliness aside, there's no way I'm letting Nancy have the last
laugh."

I looked at her quizzically, and before I knew what was happening, she had
peeled the one piece she was wearing off of her shoulders, and her tits were
out.

"Damn, Janey, you want to give me a little warning before you..." I trailed
off, as she took a deep breath, and "stuck 'em out," and I got my first (and
last) ever look at her pre-enhancement G-cups. Janey was bigger pre-New
Paradigm than Nancy was post. Her boobs were so very big, and round, and
perfect. Sitting up high and tight. Her nipples were perfectly round, and just
a little bit darker than bubble gum pink. She smiled at me conspiratorially,
and deadpanned, "Now go inside and get me a lemonade."

I started toward the house.

"Aargh."

I stopped. "Oh, you weren't' serious?"

"C'mere, Gorgeous...and lose the shorts on the way."

So, now I'm standing about a foot in front of her...and I am rock hard. And
she reaches out and starts examining me...both hands...she's cupping
me...tickling...she's close enough that her breath is, by itself, manipulating
me. I am ready to melt.

And she pops me into her mouth...and looks up at me as if to say: "Take that
Nancy." And then her tongue slides down the length of me; and back up, and
then down again, and then side to side, and then back up, and so on.

And she looked up at me again.

"Perfect." I answered her unasked question.

"Tanks." She managed.

As one might imagine, she finished me pretty quickly...and drank up every
drop. Her one comment: "Pretty salty."

When finished, she pulled her bathing suit back up. I had sunk to my knees
beside her chair, and as she sat back, looking pretty satisfied with herself.
I laid my head on her pillowy chest, and her hand that had been hanging down
on the side of the lounge chair came up around my shoulders and played with
the hair on the back of my head.

"Janey?"

"Yeah?"

"Was that the first time you ever...?"

"Yup."

"Are we a thing now?"

"Were we a thing after we taught each other to French kiss, or when I let you
practice unhooking my bra?"

I left it at that.

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