Bridget had just told Paul that his father was dead. The young, somewhat awkward and nerdy nineteen year-old could hardly believe it.
Less than a week ago Josh, his father, and Bridget, his father's younger girlfriend, had gone on vacation in Mexico together. Bridget had returned two days early looking very pale and upset, bearing the sad news that his father had been killed in a cave-in whilst the two of them were exploring some random cave they had discovered near the Sierra Madre del Sur mountain range.
In fact Paul was supposed to have gone with them. His father had promised to pay for him to join them as a reward for being accepted into college, Bridget however had put her foot down and insisted that the teenager would ruin their so-called 'romantic holiday'.
Bridget and Paul hadn't seen eye-to-eye from their very first meeting. Paul put most of the blame for the break-up of his parent's marriage, squarely on the shoulders of his father's new, younger and more beautiful girlfriend Bridget. The attractive thirty four year old blonde Bridget also took a disliking to Paul, resenting the very idea of being anyone's stepmother, let alone such a geeky, socially inept young man like Paul. The plain looking teenager was nothing like the handsome and successful father that Bridget had been having an affair with.
The fact that Bridget was drop dead gorgeous and insanely sexy also didn't help make Paul more comfortable in her presence. Bridget was a teenager's wet dream, the perfect blonde centrefold. She was the picture of beauty, with deep brown eyes, long blonde hair and a tight, toned, killer body. Her breasts were her most outstanding feature, large, perky and almost always on display. She always wore tight fitting, low cut clothing that displayed her magnificent curves to best effect. Paul had given up trying to be subtle and usually openly stared at her big, luscious tits, his lustful stares furthering Bridget's dislike of him. He would have given anything to be in his father's shoes and have the chance to get his hands on those massive, round knockers.
The rest of Bridget's body was almost as good. Even the far younger girls in Paul's classes at college could not compare with her perfect supermodel physique. She had long, tanned legs, and a shapely, well-rounded ass. Her erection-inducing body was the product of perfect genes and many hours spent in the gym.
Despite his dislike of Bridget's haughty, bitchy disposition, Paul still lusted after her, often imagining himself having his way with her flawless, voluptuous body as he masturbated. Bridget's constant insults and put-downs meant his favourite fantasy was to shut her up mid insult with a hard cock in her mouth.
"And don't think you're going to stay here young man!" Bridget snapped after she had revealing the shocking news of Paul's father's death. "You can go Spain and live with your bitch of a mother."
"Don't say that about Mom. You're the bitch!" Paul angrily replied storming off to his bedroom, his mind whirling with grief.
He slammed shut the door and slumped down on the bed. He had no intention of staying here with Bridget, that's for sure. Besides, knowing Bridget it wouldn't be long before she found some new, rich sugar-daddy to keep her happy.
Paul hadn't been getting on with his Dad recently, they'd gotten into a number of arguments over living in the same house as Bridget and was even considering moving out into his own place or going to stay with his mother in Spain. It still hurt for his father to be gone however. What the hell were they doing exploring a cave together anyway?
***
Paul must have drifted off to sleep, as he was awakened several hours later when Bridget burst into his bedroom.
"Don't you knock?" he complained, still a little sleepy even though it was only a little after 11am.
"Like you'd ever have a girl in here anyway," shot back Bridget. She had got changed and showered after her trip back and was now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. As always, her jeans were tight-fitting, stretching across her shapely thighs and hips and hugging her delightfully rounded ass like a second skin. The pink t-shirt she wore was stretched tight across her ample chest, her big boobs looking as though they would burst through the thin cotton at any moment.
"I need my privacy," he insisted.
"You were probably jerking off," she murmured scornfully. "But anyway, I need your help."
Paul was surprised by this comment and for the first time noticed she had a slightly pained expression. "What's wrong," he asked her suspiciously. Knowing Bridget it was probably some dirty chore she wanted him to do.
"I've got a pain in my stomach and chest, since I got back from Mexico," she explained. "I think I need to go see a doctor, but I don't think I can drive."
Paul briefly considered refusing, especially after she had been such a bitch right after telling him his father was dead. "Okay fine," he said at last. It could be something serious and despite his dislike, he didn't really want her badly hurt or dead. "I'll take you."
Paul drove her down to the local doctor's clinic and waited with her for almost an hour before they were finally admitted into the doctor's office. As Paul followed Bridget down the hallway to the office he admired the roll of her curved hips and way her firm buttocks moved in her tight fitting jeans.
"What seems to be the problem?" asked Dr Walker once they were seated. He was an elderly, grey haired man who was rather overweight and had ugly liver-spots on his hands and bald forehead, but on such short notice he was the only doctor available to see Bridget.
"I've just got back from Mexico," Bridget explained, wincing slightly and holding her stomach with one arm. "And in the last couple hours I've developed this sharp pain in my stomach and chest."
"Both?" Dr Walker asked, seeming surprised.
Bridget nodded, "yes, both."
"That's strange," murmured the doctor in reply. He stood up and reached for the stethoscope sitting on the side of his desk. "Any other symptoms?"
"Not that I'm aware of," Bridget replied with a shrug, sitting beside her, Paul couldn't help but notice the way the movement lifted up her heavy tits, jiggling them very slightly under her tight fitting t-shirt.
"No headaches, pains anywhere other than your torso?" Dr Walker quizzed her as he moved around the desk.
"No, just my stomach and chest, is it serious doctor?"
"I'm not sure yet," admitted the doctor, he moved over to stand right in front of where Bridget sat. "I just need to have a listen to your stomach, can you lift up your shirt please."
Bridget glanced briefly over at where Paul was sitting beside her, hesitating a moment. She then nodded and pulled up the bottom of her shirt, exposing her flat, nicely tanned stomach.
Paul bit his lower lip and stared at the sudden, exposed skin of his father's gorgeous girlfriends flat belly. She had pulled her t-shirt up to her chest and the bottom of her white and pink patterned bra was visible, her large breasts swelling out in the skimpy satin material.
Even the doctor seemed affected by the display of skin, his hand shaking slightly as he pressed the cold stethoscope against Bridget's stomach and listened intently. He frowned as he listened in a few places.
"Seems normal," he said at last, taking off the stethoscope and placing it back on his desk. "I can't hear anything unusual. The pain is there right now is it?"
"Yes, it's been there the whole time," Bridget confirmed as she pulled her top back down.
"I'm going to need to do a breast exam now," said Dr Walker. "Can you please take off your t-shirt and bra."
Paul's eyes went wide in eager anticipation of finally getting a look at those world-class tits he'd been ogling since he first met her.
Bridget however had other ideas. "Is that necessary doctor?"
"Yes, I need to eliminate a few possibilities in my diagnosis."
"Okay then," Bridget agreed. "Paul, wait out in the waiting room please."
Paul's heart immediately sank, "But..."
"Out!" Bridget snapped. There was no way that creepy young geek was going to she her topless that was for sure.
"Fine," Paul replied glumly, unable to come up with a good excuse to stick around for the titty show. He got up and headed outside to wait for her to finish up, Bridget's boobs banished back to his imagination only.
As soon as the door closed Bridget pulled off her t-shirt and then unclipped her bra, unveiling her magnificent tits. They were huge, two giant mounds of flesh, firm and perfectly rounded, topped by smallish, dark nipples. The doctor almost gasped aloud at the wonderful sight of Bridget's tits, doing his best to maintain his professional composure.
Despite their immense size they had almost no sag, remaining high on chest and proudly out-thrust. The cool air seemed to have an effect on her nipples as they jutted out hard from atop her luscious mammeries.
Dr Lane pulled his chair around in front of Bridget and sat down, preparing for his examination. He paused for a split section, eagerly eyeing up her fantastic knockers, and then reached out, slapping both his hands onto her firm, round boobs.
His hands were a little damp and clammy, and Bridget gave a slight gasp as the doctor gave her big tits and initial test squeeze, sampling their size and firmness. He moved his hands all around the expanse of her vast tits. They were much bigger than his hands so it took a bit to feel them all over. He licked his lips as he gave Bridget's tits another squeeze, her hard nipples tickling his palms.
Dr Lane lifted both her tits up, jiggling them both in his palms as if comparing their weights. He then moved both hands over to her right breast, her tits so big that it was definitely a job for two hands.
Bridget gasped again as the doctor gave her right breast a hard squeeze, his fingers sinking deep into the soft, fleshy orb. Dr Lane's mouth was slightly open and his tongue hung out a bit as he explored her wonderful breasts.
He then held her right breast in one hand, his thumb swiping across her nipple as his other hand pressed around the topside of her boob, as if exploring it for lumps or anomalies. His more conventional examination put Bridget at ease a little, prior to that it seemed like the old doctor was more interested in groping her than examining her.
Dr Lane appeared to finish with her right boob. He gave it a pat and moved both hands over to her left breast, cupping the mountainous tit and squeezing it firmly with both hands, his tongue seeming to poke out further as he watched her firm flesh well up between his squeezing fingers.
He then pressed his fingers around over her tit, checking for any lumps as he had with her right tit, before giving it a final pat, signalling he'd finished.
"Did you find anything?" Bridget asked, relieved when he finally released her jugs. She immediately began to put her bra back on.
"No, everything seems quite normal," Dr Lane replied, wiping his chin which was a little damp from his tongue.
"So what's wrong with me?" asked Bridget in concern. She pulled her t-shirt back on.
"I'm not sure," admitted Dr Lane. "You appear to be in perfect health. I'm going to take some blood samples and run some tests. Hopefully we can find out what's causing the pain."
"How long will that take?" asked Bridget in dismay.
"Probably a couple of days, I'll give you a prescription for some pain killers which should tide you over until we know more."
***
Outside in the waiting room, Paul's thoughts were filled with imaginings of what Bridget's tits would look like naked, or what it would be like to see that old doctor pawing and groping her.
