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to for the next ninety minutes. As usual, the few pretty faces I saw found seats well before they reached my row. With my luck Id probably end up with a chatty old lady telling me about her grandkids the whole flight, or, worse, a sleepy fat guy, taking over the armrest and squeezing me out of my seat. It looked like the plane was full and Id escape with the row to myself when a late arrival appeared in the aisle. I couldnt see her too well at first, with the flight attendant in the way, until she was only a few rows in front of me. She was very attractive, probably in her early thirties, short dark hair, a friendly open face, and the kind of lips that seem to be set in a natural smile. I could tell she was tall, but couldnt make out much of her body until she was right at the edge of my seat. She had long legs, and full hips, shown off nicely in her jeans, and -- I caught my breath -- huge, round breasts, right at my eye-level under her tight sweater. I said a quick silent prayer that she was headed for the seat next to mine. She popped the overhead just above me and lifted her heavy bag up. "Do you need a hand?" I said. "No," she said, trying to shove the thing in. With her arms raised, her breasts were right in my face, practically pinning me in my seat. With a final ooomph she got the bag clear of the door and turned around, heading, I supposed, for one of the empty seats behind me. I resolved myself to my fate and wondered how many times I could walk back to the bathroom just to sneak a peak of her. "Oh," she said, appearing at my side again. "This is it." I quickly stood up and stepped free of the row. "Youre 36D?" I said. She squeezed past me, her chest just barely brushing my arm. "Actually," she said, smiling, "Im 36 double-D." I sat back down, stunned silent. She quietly arranged herself in her seat, adjusting the buckle, putting her bag at her feet, before she burst out laughing. "Im sorry," she said, "I cant believe I just said that! Its not like me really . . . you just left me too good of an opening." "I didnt mean . . . " "No, I know, you were just being polite. Im Susan." "Vincent," I said. We talked the whole flight. We were both going to in Charlotte on business, just for the night. I had to meet with clients and she had to give a presentation. Neither of us knew anybody there, nor had we much desire to see the city. As we started to descend, we agreed to meet for dinner in the restaurant next to her hotel. On the way out of the airport, walking through the concourse, she spotted the Victorias Secret. "Why dont you go ahead," she said. "Im just


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going to stop in here." "Really?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pack something?" "No, I just like to pick up a little treat for myself when I come through here." "Ill tell you what," I said. "Why dont you let me?" "What?" "Really, sit down. Let me pick something out for you. My treat." "I cant let you --" "No, I insist. Ill buy as long as you wear it tonight." She looked at me for a second and then smiled. "Alright," she said. "Its a deal." I went into the store, wondering what I had gotten myself into. I had never bought lingerie for a woman before. The salesgirl, probably used to clueless guys in the store, spotted me right away. "Can I help you?" "Yes. Um. Im looking for something for a . . . a friend." "Something sexy?" she smiled. "Yes." "Do you know her size?" As a matter of fact I did. "Its 36DD." "Wow," said the salesgirl. "Shes bigger than I am." As that felt like an invitation to look, I checked out her more than ample chest. I just grinned by way of comment. "Most girls that size want something to minimize their chest, you know, to smooth out the figure." "Actually, I was looking for more of a maximizer." I saw a twinkle in her eye. "Why am I not surprised? Follow me." I left the store, presented Susan with the bag, making her promise not to peak until later that night. We parted at the hotel shuttle, setting a time for dinner. I made it to the restaurant first, and sat at the bar waiting for her. She was five minutes late, then ten, then fifteen, and I was into my second beer wondering if shed thought better of it, or perhaps been offended by my gift. Finally, almost twenty minutes late, she came in. She wore a knee-length skirt and had on a loose-jacket over her top, so I couldnt tell what effect my present had had. "Hi," I said, getting up to greet her. "I should kill you," she said. "What? Why?" "For making me squeeze into this thing. I feel like Dolly Parton. I only had one shirt that would stretch over them." I couldnt tell if she was actually angry, or just teasing me. "Uh, Im sorry," I said. "No," she smiled. "Its kind of funny actually. I guess Ive learned my lesson -- this is what I should have expected, letting a guy buy my bras." We were led to a corner booth and she finally took off her coat before she sat down. I almost fell out of my seat. She was wearing a tight, clinging, red top with a deep v-neck showing off amazing cleavage. The bra lifted her breasts and pushed them forward, as I knew it would, and made them look gigantic. I saw a couple of guys in the restaurant turn their heads to stare. "There," she said. "I hope youre happy." I stared openly, taking them all in. "I am," I said. "You know," she leaned forward, giving me an even better view, speaking softly, "I kind of like it.