AUTHOR'S NOTE:
All characters depicted are 18+ years of age.
* * * * * *
I awoke the next morning thinking "Saturday!" This was the day of the Powerball drawing, and my farewell to the restrictions and limitations of slaving away at a deadening job. My flaccid cock was lying across Katie's thigh. I woke her up and asked her when the Powerball drawing was.
"Huh, oh, it's sometime late at night."
This was news to me. I guess I had never really paid attention to when the drawings were. Illinois doesn't participate in the Powerball, although every state around it does. It's apparently legal for someone to drive out of state and buy tickets there. The back of my ticket gave an address in Valparaiso, Indiana, which I guessed is probably the town in Indiana closest to Chicago.
"Late? Like, 10 o'clock?"
"No, I think it's like midnight." Her face was buried in the pillow, muffling her voice.
"Oh." Well, this meant that I'd have to wait until midnight just to confirm that I'd won, and then I'd probably have to wait until
Monday
to go claim my prize. Well, gee, I guess I had a whole weekend to kill with Katie. Nothing to get upset about.
I was now wide awake. I managed to locate my watch, and discovered that it was already 10 am, and realized I was pretty hungry. Rummaging through the refrigerator, I discovered a couple of eggs, a few slices of bread, and some anonymous leftovers. I decided this was a good day to go grab a few doughnuts.
I didn't have a change of clothes, so I put on the ones I'd worn yesterday. Would have preferred jeans and Nikes, but the law firm didn't permit them, even on Fridays. My underwear and pants were stiff where I'd soaked through and it had dried. I decided to skip the underwear, and just wear the pants: at minimum length, I didn't think it would be too obvious. Then I asked Katie if she liked doughnuts, and went to get some.
I came back with a dozen doughnuts, assorted, and found Katie already up, dressed, and tidying up.
"So, what shall we do today?" I asked brightly.
"Oh, Dennis, I'm sorry, I'm going home for the week. I have to get moving."
I finally noticed she was stuffing clothes into a suitcase. Shit, there went my half-formed plans for the weekend. She was still talking, half to herself, about "a lot of things to think about" and "people she had to talk to." I didn't quite catch all of it, but for some reason didn't get a good feeling. It had too much of a "can we just be friends" feel to it. On the other hand, she did ask for my phone number, and email address, and gave me hers. I ended up carrying her suitcases out to her car, an old Jetta, and watched as she zipped off while I stood there with a box of doughnuts, still unopened.
Hell.
I walked back to my apartment, now feeling bummed out. Saturday morning around 10:30 am, the campus was barely stirring. I reached the apartment building, and went up to my floor, suddenly cautious in case the mob was still there.
Listening carefully, all I could hear was a single voice, saying something like "no, no sign yet." peeking around the corner, I saw that there was a single girl parked in front of my door. Ruth must have posted a sentry. I walked as quietly as I could up to my apartment, and was only a few feet away when the girl jumped up.
"Wait! don't call anyone yet!"
She stopped, cell phone in hand. "What, I would have thought you couldn't wait to start. Ruth must have over fifty chicas already signed up."
"Oh Christ!"
She considered for a second. "Here, inside."
I didn't want to be spotted, so quickly let her into my apartment. She dumped her coat on the floor, and stood with her fists on her hips. I couldn't figure out why she looked and sounded so hostile. For that matter, I couldn't figure out why she was there at all. I mean, I pretty much knew that she been asked to stand watch, but didn't know why she would be interested in participating in the first place. She looked to be Latina, but had one of those unfortunate "oil drum" type of figures - probably 30 pounds overweight, and no discernible waist. Her face was pocked with acne scars. There was probably an attractive girl in there somewhere, but she wasn't apparent on the surface. Her one outstanding feature was - make that her
two
outstanding features were her boobs. A disproportionate amount of her weight was carried on her chest, so that even though she was heavy everywhere else, she was still top-heavy. Her massive boobs projected forward and to the sides: she looked like she'd already had "the treatment."
"So, what's the problem?"
She glared at me, then launched into a spiel that she'd obviously been rehearsing to herself while waiting for me to show. "I am not a pretty girl," she began "but I have never lacked for company. Not since I grew these." she squeezed her enormous breasts together, so that a huge amount of cleavage swelled up through the low-cut neck of her top. She obviously dressed to accentuate her chest.
"There are many guys who pay attention to me, but only because I have some of the biggest boobs in the school. But now, thanks to
you
, there is now a bunch of girls with boobs almost as big, with pretty blond hair and pretty white skin. And next week there will be hundreds of girls like that, and then thousands. I do not want to be left behind. I will be bigger than all of them."