Rachel was quite pleased with her new shape. Turning to view her profile in the mirror, she tossed her mane of red hair over a shoulder and placed one hand against her stomach, flattening out the button-down shirt in an attempt to make her figure more apparent. For the first time in her life, it made a difference.
Rachel had always been underendowed. Actually, that was the polite way to put it; a less generous term might be nonexistant. Many feminists might say that that sort of thing didn't matter, but it did to Rachel. She had always longed, just once, to wear and fill a bikini top. Another fond desire was to be able to have cleavage while wearing an evening dress, something most women took for granted. If asked if her life would be any less fulfilling without these simple pleasures, the admittedly already-attractive Rachel would have been forced to publicly admit it wasn't all that important. But, deep down, she felt it was.
Breast implants had been a serious consideration for some time, but just as she had convinced herself to undergo the surgery, the silicone scare had struck. Sick of living with rude nicknames and having no desire to go back to the endless line of unnaturally padded bras, she nosed around. As luck would have it, a young doctor, full of ideas and opinions hard up against the grain of most of his peers, entered the equation. He firmly believed in a new implant that had taken years to develop, but had been stalled by the delays of testing and federal approval. Faced with years of red tape before his revolutionary advances would be accepted, he surreptitiously started the search for a willing test subject ready to try something new.
And Rachel had turned out to be that person. An almost impossibly petite redhead with a charming smile, Rachel surprised the doctor with the speed of her acceptance of his proposal. The surgery proved to be remarkably simple. It had only been two days since the operation, yet there were no visible scars or pain. She was already up and about in her room, packing her belongings and getting ready to leave.
Her new breasts were everything she had hoped for. After viewing them every concievable way in the mirror, she decided the term 'perky' best described her new B-cup shape. Slipping on her very first bra with actual cups had been a thrilling delight that resulted in several more minutes of admiring herself before getting dressed. She knew they were nearly total prosthetics, but there was sensation, albeit somewhat diminished, as well as motion. Prodding them revealed nothing out of the ordinary except that they were somewhat cold to the touch. Some mild numbness, Rachel thought. Only logical. Beyond that, they looked perfect.
Rachel was finishing packing when she noticed the small remote sitting by the side of her bed. It featured one arrow-shaped button pointing up and another arrow pointing down. She picked it up for further inspection. No brand name or company logo adorned the contraption, and the television remote was on the table next to the vase of crysanthiums. Shrugging, Rachel tossed the orphan clicker onto the desk.
As she continued, a faint hissing noise slowly became audible. Unable to place it, Rachel stopped her packing to listen. It wasn't the radiator, she thought; a bit warm for that, anyway. She also realized that the area beneath the base of her bra suddenly began to itch. Oddly enough, it also seemed to be a bit tighter than when she had first put it on. Thinking about how nice it was to actually be able to consider a bra "tight," Rachel turned to the mirror for one last look, smirking at her sudden narcissism.
Taking a deep breath, she posed coquettishly with a rougeish smile. Letting out a sigh, she started to turn back to her suitcase when something caught her attention. Looking down, she realized that her chest seemed to be a bit bigger than just moments before. Post- operation swelling was possible, but at this late a date? And what about that hissing?
Placing both hands gingerly on her new front, Rachel made a surprising discovery. The hissing was coming from her! By tilting her head to one side, she could just make out what sounded like a slow air leak on a bicycle tire. Looking deeper into the mirror, Rachel became sure of it. There was no doubt about it, she was getting bigger at a very slow rate. "I, my God...they're, I'm, my...I'm...inflatable!"
She stood there in stunned amazement for a moment; then, all of a sudden, it clicked. So that's what the doctor had been talking about, she thought to herself. This is more than just a new set, they're adjustable. And here I thought he was just talking about future versions of the prosthetic!
Connecting a third part to the puzzle, Rachel walked over to the desk and grabbed the small remote. Giving the downward pointing button a tap, she listened intently. Sure enough, the hissing stopped.
Unbuttoning her shirt, Rachel nearly squealed with glee. Her chest had appearently increased up to around a C-cup, straining her now too-small bra. They still felt perfectly natural, if a bit light for their size, and had a reasonable movement. Stuffing the remote in her purse, Rachel beamed, and headed out the door.
***
"Honey, I'm off to the grocery store!" Rachel called from the doorway. Ed gave a slight wave of acknowledgement, glasses reflecting the computer screen in front of him, fingers typing furiously. Rachel smiled. Ed had become incredibly affectionate after he had seen the new Rachel, but he still could become so engrossed in work that the entire world seemed to fade away for him. It was more than likely that he'd be on there for a few hours...which gave her just enough time to set up her plan.
Sure enough, she had time to not only buy but also sort, shelve and eat some of the groceries before Ed had managed to separate himself from the glowing monitor. Ed pushed himself away from the desk, slightly dazed, and entered the bedroom, where he found Rachel wearing old sweat pants and a faded oversized shirt, reading a novel.
"Hello, dear," said Rachel, not looking up. "Get a lot done?"
"Well, yeah, actually - I managed to fully encode and implement three more pages of the site, and I remembered to write a nasty letter to Senator Exon."
"Ooh, implementing pages..." cooed Rachel with mock passion. "I love it when you talk technical. I hope your work hasn't taken too much out of you?"
With that, Rachel stood and removed her sweatshirt, revealing a skin- tight covering of black latex underneath. As she shimmied seductively out of her bottoms in front of a stunned Ed, it became apparent that the top was part of a bodysuit, and her entire body, save the hands and feet, was covered in a thin layer of rubber, a thin silver zipper running down her side, with its pull resting at her ankle.
"It was on sale at the grocery store," she smirked.
When Ed finally managed to speak, he mumbled, "You should go shopping there more often." His pulse was racing, and Rachel knew it. She reveled in the playful power her new body possessed.
As Ed approached her, Rachel took a step back. "Ed, there's something else I haven't shown you," she offered coyly. "I know you like the results of the surgery as they are, but...well, there's more."
"More?" he asked, surprised. "What do you mean, 'more?'" He scanned her body quickly. "How much more could there be?"
"That's what we're going to find out," she smiled, producing the odd remote from the rear of the nightstand drawer. "I didn't want to tell you so you wouldn't worry, but my surgery was something of a...beta test. I'm the first person with a special kind of implant that the doctor promised would be a new standard in a few years' time. I wanted to wait for a special occasion and...well, grocery shopping was a good enough excuse. Push one of those arrows, and you'll understand."
Ed cocked one curious eyebrow and, ever the optimist, cautiously tapped the up arrow once. The hissing sound Rachel had heard in her recovery room returned, and this time she was able to witness the transformation. Slowly and steadily she watched and, this time aware of what was going on, actually felt her bosom swell. Her inflating breasts pressed against the latex evenly and slowly, expanding under the stretchy black layer with controlled force. She was well on her way from appealing B to perfectly poised C.
Ed, meanwhile, was obviously having trouble breathing.
"How did...what did you...was it this...umm..." Ed's brain froze. All he finally managed to convey was a resounding "Huh?"
"I told you there was more," she laughed, inhaling deeply and arching her back to make even more of her expanded assets. They were now big enough to force the catsuit to pocket under her bosom instead of fitting her form all the way down. "The doctor explained the process as an untested theory, and I really didn't expect this perk in my own surgery, but I have to admit, I love it. Don't you?" She reached out for his arm, and he dropped the remote. She placed his trembling hand on her swollen left breast and leaned her weight onto the bed. Ed was stuck between trying to be polite and trying to function. Ten minutes ago, she had been her normal gorgeous self; now, there was a latex goddess before him, pumped up in all the right places. He gently massaged her single breast, feeling tension and a unique kind of...light density, something he'd never felt before. Rachel just closed her eyes and smiled. Ed nearly tripped over himself as Rachel drew him onto the bed.
"Does it..." Ed swallowed rather convulsively. "Are you in any...is there much feeling? I mean..." He gently pressed upwards against her breast, stroking it as reverently as if he were touching Ming china.
"Yeah, there's--oh, that feels good!--there's still quite a bit of me involved with those things you're fondling. The...'addition' is mererly air. How do they feel to you?" Leaning a bit closer to where he had sat down on the covers, she nudged him with the edge of her burgeoning new front, grinning in delight at being able to do so.
Shifting his gaze from where it had been riveted for the last few minutes, he looked up. "The latex makes it kinda hard to tell, but it feels real to me! Rather firm...but you always were." She gave him a mock frown that had an infectious glee bubbling under the surface. "I'm amazed it moves so naturally!" Once again he poked her gently, watching the slight shimmy that ran through her new torso.
"Now, you don't have to be quite so gentle!" said Rachel. "It's not like I'm going to break. It's been weeks since the surgery, and according to the doctor, all of his theories are officially tested. I'm in no pain, and," she smiled, "I'm ready for action!"
So saying, she lunged forward suddenly from her spot on the bed. Standing up just enough so that her shoulders were about even with Ed's head, she tackled him soundly, the stretched latex squeaking merrily as she wrapped her arms about his neck and bore him over backwards.
Ed was stunned, to say the least. Rachel had always been rather exuberant, but tonight she was positively grow...er, glowing. He knew that she had always harbored a desire to have something more than the smidgen that nature had alloted her, but he had never known how much it meant. Of course the fact that he was now up to his ears in her new assets also might have something to do with his mental state. She rubbed up and down quickly, once or twice, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead with her balloons. His eyes, impossibly enough, opened even wider.
Throwing one leg over his, Rachel pulled herself astraddle and slowly drew back. Ed's now revealed face had what could best be described as a silly grin. After a few quick blinks he refocused, pulling his glasses back into place. "Anything to say?" she inquired archly, leaning forward so he could barely see her face over the curve of her bust.
After a few moments of running about madly in circles, Ed's sense of humor finally caught up. "Hmm...my very own Barbie doll! And life size, no less..." Rachel squirmed off of him, hopping to her feet on the bed, then bouncing up and down once or twice before thumping down solidly on the floor. The shaking of her enlarged, bubbly features was stunning to watch.
"Y'know, I never used to mind going to the pool or gym the way I was," she remarked conversationally as she reached down and fondled the remote. "I have to admit, I was always a bit jealous of the girls there who could fill out their shirts a bit better than I could. The odd thing was, I found them a bit on the attractive side as well." Seeing Ed's look of surprise as he sat up, she continued. "No, not that...just a sort of envy. I was more interested in their bustlines than anything else. Sometimes in the locker room at the gym I'd catch myself looking at a bra bigger than any I could wear and fantasizing about being able to. In a funny sort of way, that fantasy kinda turned me on. And now..." Turning, she reached out and twirled the dimmer switch. The lights faded to an even glow. Looking at the remote in her hand, she tapped the up arrow once.
And twice.
And a third time.
"And now," she repeated with a wicked smile, "the fantasy becomes reality."
Ed watched in awe as his wife, a formerly athletically shaped individual, made her chest swell bigger with each breath. A slight hissing was barely audible to him from where he sat. The latex pinged and popped as it moved to accomodate her growing form. Rachel looked downward with an almost worshipful expression, watching as her feet dissapeared from view. "Oh, Ed. You wouldn't believe how this feels! I'm growing!" She was having trouble finding the words to describe it to him, but could tell from the look on his face that he wanted to know. " I can feel the suit getting tighter against me, but it's not hurting at all. There's just a kind of...bubbly feeling to it. Sorta like the feel of champagne against your lips, you know?" She squeaked one hand along one of the softball-sized protubrances on her chest. "I'd say I'm a triple D now! It's so weird...I guess this is what balloons feel like this when they're filling up. I'm blowing up bigger and bigger!"
Ed realized that the growth itself was starting to turn her on as he saw her nipples standing out clearly against the snug fabric of the suit. She continued to grow, slowly, the glued seams under her arms pulling forward slightly. With a last soft hiss, almost a caressing sound, the inflation stopped, leaving her with a ballooned bosom the size of twin volleyballs. Perky to the point of defying gravity, they swayed ponderously as she experimentally shook her shoulders.
Staring at Ed, Rachel slowly ran her hands down her hips, smoothing the already ripple free latex. "And has this little boy..." She pouted her lips as she outrageously mimiced an old pose perfected by Marilyn Monroe and placed her hands on her knees, squeezing her already oversized bosom to even greater heights. "...been good today?"
With that, she broke into a wildly overacted nightclub dance, hamming it up the whole way, bouncing vigorously. Ed sat with his mouth open. The things people will do in their bedrooms, he thought to himself after a moment. The only thing missing was a pole to twirl around and even that she made a go at, draping herself around the back of a chair. This didn't quite compensate however, and she went over the top of it with a thump, bringing a restrained snicker from Ed, who tried to hide it as best he could. The innocent look he gave her when she came back up was enough to start her off as well, trying to suppress her characteristic snort/giggle by putting her hands over her nose. This broke the dam for Ed, who had to take his glasses off to wipe away a tear of mirth after a few moments.
"What's so funny?" Ed managed after a moment.
"You had to be there..." Rachel replied, which set them both off again.
Giggling, she walked across the room, sliding into his lap with a sensuous squeak and dropping the remote over his shoulder. Nudging her extremely pronounced front up against him and wrapping her arms about his, she commented softly, "This is the first time something's ever come between us." He glanced down at the twin spheres that held her at elbow length, pressed up firmly against his chest. Her warmth pervaded them and he could feel the heat from her exertions radiating through the latex.
Throat dry, Ed stared back, then smiled like the sun coming up. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to do something about that. Where's my pocketknife..?"
"Hey!"
"Kidding!" Ed suddenly shifted the balance of power and eased Rachel onto the bed. Her swollen bosom stayed eerily balanced atop her torso, nipples now clearly visible through the thin rubber. "I think we're going to have to get used to that," said Rachel softly. "As long as I'm all pumped up like this, they're going to defy gravity a bit."
"I don't mind, really," smiled Ed. "There's something humorously erotic about having my own real-life inflatable doll. I could get to like this."
"Rowwrr. C'mere, you smooth-talking rascal."
Ed straddled her and leaned over to kiss her parted lips.
But as his weight shifted onto her body, her weight in turn pressed on the bed--or, more specifically, on the remote buried between the comforter and her back. Silently, the device registered one up arrow press...then another...then another. The commands started to stack up.
The telltale hissing started again. "Well! You certainly are eager to see what the 'new me' can do, aren't you?" The pressure in her chest built slowly but satisfyingly steadily, and she smiled with the look of someone who's just achieved snuggly warmth. "Just be careful how many times you hit that, lover..."
"Hit what?" replied Ed.
"The remote, of course. Don't go overboard pressing buttons on your new toy."
"But..." he started, "I'm not. I don't have the remote."
"What?" Rachel suddenly became acutely aware of a jabbing pain in her back. Still hissing, she motioned for Ed to move off her, and quickly. Turning and looking down, all she saw were her expanding breasts, not- so-quietly inflating at pace. Leaning over them, she found the remote on the bed where she'd been laying, picked it up and examined it.
"Oh my God."
"What? What?" Ed did not like the sound of urgency in Rachel's voice. His eyes focused on the remote.
The up arrow was completely embedded inside the casing. The button was stuck, flush.
"Turn it off. Hit the other key!" Ed offered helpfully.
"I can't!" she said, stabbing pointlessly at the down arrow. "It's not working! The up button is totally jammed!"
While the remote had decided life as a paperweight would be more interesting, the implants continued to work as advertised--and then some. Rachel was ballooning to great proportions, a bulbous multi-cup bosom filling out on her once A-cup frame. The growth continued relentlessly in time to the hissing accompaniment. Rachel realized with horror that, because the remote was jammed, it was still registering "up" hits. She was blowing up nonstop. She had to act fast.
Her first instinct was to remove the latex suit. "Get this off, get it off!" she screamed, straining her right arm to reach the zipper at her ankle. Bending over was easy; not suffocating on her inflating mammaries was the difficult part. Ed scrambled for the zipper and started to run it up the length of her leg.
>>TOK<<
"What was that?" Rachel asked.
"Looks like the remote's not the only thing that's broken," said Ed. "One of the zipper teeth just committed suicide; now I can't move the thing up or down."
"No, no, no..." Rachel moaned. "This can't be happening...this wasn't supposed to happen!" She gingerly put her free hand on the side of her inflating breast. She could feel the steadily mounting pressure inside, feel herself physically blowing up, the pungent latex perfectly mimicking the properties and texture of a party balloon. Experimentally, Rachel pressed in slightly, gauging the density. Her fingers sunk in slightly. I'm not full yet, she thought. I still have time.
"Maybe I can fix the remote or something," Ed muttered as he glared at the offending item.
"Ed, you can't even fix the screen door. How do you expect to repair...this!" Rachel snarled, her massive orbs shaking in time with her outburst. While they still had movement, it was far less than before and the overall shapes had begun to assume those of balls stuck to her chest. Her nipple outline was no longer visible; whether it was due to the loss of the mood or the stretching of her skin was impossible to tell. Rachel fought hard to squelch a rising feeling of panic, and questions formed in the back of her mind. What if they don't stop? What if I just keep getting bigger? And what happens when I can't get any bigger? She couldn't consider it. She had to stay in control, even if some parts of her weren't.
Straightening up from her futile tugging on the zipper, she winced as the latex squeaked loudly and puckered deeply around her waist, under the breasts and beneath her armpits. It only took a second to realize what was wrong, and she reached up to the high collar and eased it out with one finger, allowing air to seep in beneath the sealed rubber. The wrinkles around her torso eased, but her ever-expanding front had started to pull up all the slack, and standing straight was beginning to give her a minor wedgie. In these sorts of situations latex is not known for its forgiving qualities, and she spent a moment digging and pulling.
"Ed!"
Ed glanced up from his prying at the depressed button with the edge of a dime and stared in astonishment. His wife, the woman who he had used to call 'Skeeter' back when they were first dating, much to her irritation, stood before him looking more voluptuous than all but the biggest of the silicone queens. Impossible curves met his eyes as they skittered over her, not certain where to settle.
"Stop playing with the remote and call the doctor. He built these...these things!" Rachel gestured at her expanding breasts. "He'll know how to turn them off. He's got to!" She snapped her fingers in front of Ed's nose. "C'mon, hurry up!"
"Yeah! Yeah, phone, yeah." Ed vaulted from the bed, nearly braining himself on the half-open door as he tried to run out into the hall while still looking back at Rachel. The sound of his feet was distant thunder on the stairs followed by a crash of kitchen chairs as he slipped on the linoleum.
"Stop already!" Rachel whined to her own chest as she took a firm hold of the crotch of her suit and pulled down, her bosom getting in the way as she did small dance of frustration in the middle of the room. It did little good, for as soon as she let go, her swollen chest bounced upwards, yanking everything with it and causing her to squeak in dismay. The suit had to go, she thought, as she eyed its well-packed, rounded confines jutting out almost horizontally under her chin. As she grew larger, the suit grew tighter, the pulling forward of the arm and shoulder material was getting uncomfortable and, worst of all, it was becoming difficult to breathe. The pressure of the latex was only restricting her breasts anyway, pressing in on them and making it more likely for them to...
The small voice in the back of her head started to internally verbalize her nightmares.
(I'm not going to make it...I'm going to pop like a balloon...I'm going to explode)
She stopped herself again, blocking out her fear. If the zipper was stuck, she reasoned, then the only thing to do to keep herself from bursting was to cut it off. The image of the scissors in the bathroom flashed through her mind. As she turned toward the bathroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Ed's difficulty in leaving the room was somewhat justified, she thought to herself in astonishment as she stared at the overinflated latex toy that gazed back at her from the mirror. Pumped with gas that she was helpless to stop, her titanic breasts started at her chin and went down almost to her waist, deep ripples in the material under that giving mute testimony to the strain. Gently she rubbed one hand along the smooth and bulging side of her chest, almost in a reverie. The awkwardness of moving her restricted arm brought her back to reality, however, as did the discomfort.
The bathroom door proved to be a bit of a problem as soon as she got there. Designed to fit beween the confines of a closet door and a window, it was a few inches narrower than a standard doorway. Normally this was not a difficulty and went unnoticed until Rachel bumped into it and stopped, her breasts touching either side of the door. She paused a moment in disbelief, then bumped forward again, only to have her motion arrested once more. Turning to the side wouldn't help; her chest had inflated so far out in front of her that she was as deep as she was wide. The panic started to swell in her again, almost as fast as her ballooning breasts. (It's hopeless...I'm too full...just forcing myself through the doorway will cause me to burst) But the nerve-wracking hissing was enough of an impetus for her to back up a foot or two, then rush forward, popping through the door frame with a squeal of synthetic fabric.
Rachel spent only a fraction of a second looking into the tiny mirror over the sink. It was far too small to show anything more than a bit of her now. She found herself agreeing with her inner tormentor. "I am going to explode," she muttered to herself. "If I don't get free, I will pop!" Puffing, she dug through the drawers, cursing as she discovered how difficult it was to do with over three feet of breast to get in the way. The simplest solution was to bend almost all the way over and yank the drawer out. Further wedging was an unfortunate side effect, but it was better than the alternative. The scissors finally put in an appearance from behind the toothpaste, the tip gleaming a stainless bright in the dimness of the drawer. She pounced on it with a cry of triumph.
(Getting bigger...too big...it's not stopping)
Looking at herself, she realized the mirror would be little help. All that was visible was her face and a swell of latex creeping up towards her chin. Looking downward was of little use either, as even bending over was insufficient to see her feet. Manuvering around, she distantly felt the bottoms of her pressurized breasts touch the faucet. The blade of the scissor fit into her palm nicely as she held it aloft in front of her face. One false move, she thought, and these things could do a world of hurt. (I can feel the pressure building. I can't take much more.) Gotta stay calm.
"Time to let you guys out," she said somewhat hysterically, as she plunged the tip into the latex bed beneath it.
The suit parted easily, the low-resistance latex peeling back and down. "Waaaaigh!" was all Rachel had time for as her cleavage made a concerted rush out of the newly formed gap, boiling up at her face. The suit practically exploded away, her arms shrugging back at the release of tension. Her breasts seemed to burst from their confines, smacking into the mirror and her chin as her back bumped into the towel rack. All that was visible in her reflection was her panicked eyes staring at her over a rising sea of swollen pink. The pressure surged and rolled wihin her, driving strange feelings even as horror threatened to overcome her. Clutching at the sides of her chest, she realized she couldn't even reach the further wall, much less get her hands around or under them. She was too late; her doomed inner voice was right. "Edddd! I'm gonna explode! HELP ME!"
Panting with the exertion, Rachel suddenly realized something. It was quiet. The hissing was gone. Turning her head, she rested one ear against an upflung breast. Nothing.
"Oh, my goodness." She turned her head even further to see Ed, standing in the narrow door, staring in at her, a slight twitch under one eyelid being the only thing moving. In one hand he held the remote, in the other, its batteries.
"Oh, Ed, it's stopped! They've stopped, I'm not gonna pop," Rachel gasped out, her arms wrapped about her new front. Even though things were no longer getting bigger, she was still wedged into the bathroom, her chest resting in the sink and pushing her solidly into the wall. As for Ed, he was not quite sure exactly what to feel. His wife was stuck in the bathroom by her own body, her huge breasts, each the size of a beanbag, stuffed in firmly.
After a minute or two of total silence, her calm returned. "So, the doctor said to pull the batteries?" Rachel managed
"Yeah. He said to take them out and it would stop sending signals to your...you." Ed shook his head once or twice. "Rather obvious, really. The automatic fail safe probably kicked in first, however. You were listening to yourself before I got the chance to take them out." Ed reached out and rapped the side of her breast with a knuckle, causing a shimmy throughout the taut surface. "Lord, you're huge."
Standing before him was a swollen form that, incredibly, now belonged to his wife. Her overinflated implants resembled pink punch balls that had been pumped to twice their normal size. Rachel's extraction from her predicament was easier than either of them thought, although the wall hangings in the bathroom were askew. With Ed pulling and Rachel providing directions--"Does your hand need to be right there?"--she made it to the door and gingerly passed through one breast at a time as she went sideways. Pulling the second one out made a noise much like a cork coming out of a bottle. Rachel stood there and shimmied for a moment, her arms only reaching halfway around her enormous new front.
"The doc says he'll be right over. He was leaving when I came up the stairs," Ed mentioned. "And apparently, you've got the wrong remote or something. He has a better one he's bringing over." He stared at Rachel's blank, sunken expression. "What's the matter? You're safe now."
Rachel sniffled a bit and sat down on the bed, blinking in surprise when she realized her breasts were in her lap and still rose high enough to almost touch her chin. "I'm sorry. I wanted this to be perfect for you and now I'm some sort of inflated freak. I'll have to get these taken out."
Ed wrinkled his eyebrows. "Why? You told me yourself that this was a test case. There are always going to be a few problems with that sort of thing, and I'd say you were pretty lucky that this was the only side effect. Besides, the doctor sounded like he knows what to do when he gets here; he's apparently prepared for such emergencies."
Rachel looked up. "You mean...you mean you don't mind me looking like this?"
"Well, it is a bit on the silly side, but it's only temporary. Rachel," Ed continued gently, "you were the happiest I've seen you in years when you came home from the hospital. One or two minor setbacks," he said, eyeing her lap with a smirk, "...or major ones, for that matter, shouldn't stop you from looking the way you want to look."
"Okay, sermon over," he said "C'mon, lemme help you get the rest of that latex off. Besides," he added with a lilt, "the doctor won't be here for another hour or so..."
Rachel looked at him with mild astonishment. "You're not seriously suggesting..?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm certainly in the mood."
She smiled lopsidedly and bobbed her head in that isn't-that-just-like- you-men manner. "You're sick, Ed. Very sick."
Ed looked ingenuous. "It took you three years to figure that out? I mean, after all, this is science."
Rachel wiped one eye--reaching up and around to do so--then bolted straight with a memory. "Oh, wow...I hope the rest of the girls don't have problems like these."
"What other girls?"
"The rest who volunteered to try these out. We'll have to warn the doctor about it."
"When he gets here. When he gets here."
An hour is a long time when people are occupied.