"You Goddamn fucking sure as hell are, you little bitch," he told her. His eyes went narrow and his lips tightened.

Lynn saw his hand leap out and she gave a high-pitched squeak as she jumped backward, yanking her arm back just in time.

Harry's hand swiped across the front of her body as she twisted away, and his fingers caught under the row of buttons down the front of her incredibly well-filled blouse.

With a loud rip and a series of quiet pops, the buttons flew to all corners of the room, and Lynn's blouse tore open. Her huge bra cups spilled into view through the gaping rip in her blouse.

"Damn you, Harry! Now look what you've done!" Lynn shouted, turning her back to the man and trying to pull her shredded blouse back over her big tits.

Lynn was embarrassed by the immensity of her breasts. They were firm and big, and they rode high on her chest without any sagging, but they were so big that Lynn had been the butt of vile jokes since they had first begun to bloom at the tender age of ten.

And now, full-blown and tremendous. Lynn's young tits were practically the only reason anybody ever asked her out.

She knew she wasn't the smartest girl in the world, but she sure as hell wasn't as dumb as her dates thought she was. She let only a select few touch those magnificent young globes, and never on a first date.

And she made them pay for it, but good. Only the best shows, the most expensive restaurants, the finest gifts, would get the boys into her apartment. And after that first touch they had better be the fucking best in the sack or Lynn threw them out so fast they barely had time to find their pants.

Lynn was a horny young lady, and she had all the right equipment to get the best of the horny young men. She used her body to get what she wanted and she felt no shame in that. But her big breasts still embarrassed her, on occasion, when she was trying to be a real lady, and the same old stares told her she was no closer to that than when she was ten.