Sara opened her front door and threw her keys on the ground, missing the table she was aiming for by a good three feet.

  She was euphoric, the date had gone phenomenally well but she was a little perturbed at how abruptly Shawn had departed. Oh well, she would see him again at work soon enough. She dropped her shoes and kicked them near her keys. As she walked to her bedroom a few stitches that were holding on to their last threads broke one by one. Their popping lit up the silent hallway with sound but went unnoticed by the drifting Sara.

  The light stung her eyes as she turned on the switch; squinting she found the pair of sweats she had stolen from Stephanie along with a t-shirt. She slung them both over a chair. Sara was about to wrench her tight dress off of her body when she tripped over her own feet and stumbled, knocking over a small table in the process. When she righted herself, she found that she had already taken off her dress. It lay in a messy state on the ground and Sara was left standing only in her thong panties and dark hose. She sat on the cold wooden floor and removed the hose then stood back up and stretched, raising her arms high into the air; she felt fantastic.

  She grabbed Stephanie's sweats and stepped into them. She had to work getting the top band all the way up to her waist. The middle seam dug playfully into her crotch as she tugged and smiled at the sensation. She pulled the lower cuffs up past her calves to relieve the strain on her legs. They were tight all around her hips, but she didn't care.

  The t-shirt wiggled on like plastic wrap and hugged her breasts delightfully. She jumped up and down and reveled in how they bounced heavily with the fabric. Sara turned off her lights and tiptoed into her living room. She sat down on her couch, the springs creaking under her unaccustomed weight, swung her long legs onto the cushions, and promptly fell asleep.

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  The quilt Sara had covered herself with had easily fallen to the floor. She was lying on her back as the clock on her wall ticked the seconds of the night away. It rang as three o'clock came and went and she shifted one arm above her head.

  Sara fidgeted, her brow wrinkling. One of her feet was relaxing on the arm rest and it slowly began sliding farther over the edge. Millimeter by millimeter it crept, leaving the unbunching pant leg behind. The sweats tightened around her expanding hips. Already too small, they only held on for a few moments before splitting down the middle, the pieces flapping to the sides, the rest still being pinned beneath her. Sara's shirt stretched around her chest, the fabric pulling on her back as her firm breasts pushed against the unyielding cotton. Her stomach quivered as the cool night air drifted across her exposed navel; her giggling sending quick ripples through the firm muscles.

  Sara began to moan softly through her humming lips, her head tossing lightly back and forth. Her thong panties were slipping into her sensitive folds as they constricted her growing form. She bit her lower lip as slight pleasure coursed through her, sliding one of her feet along the inside of her other leg, trying to increase the contact between the tightening threads and her engorging womanhood. Finally, the pressure became too great and her underwear burst apart with a wet snap. As it did, Sara arched her back in a miniature orgasm; the new strain proved too much for her shirt and the neckline tore. Her enormous breasts forced themselves free and the shirt continued to tear with each passing breath. It stopped near the lower hem, which had wrapped itself comfortably beneath her large mounds; tickling the undersides pleasingly.

  Sara smiled and let out a long sigh. When she finished, she turned over on to her side; one pant leg splitting in the process. She finished her night in relative peace; her amber eyes flitting in an erotic dream.

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  The clock began to gong again, striking nine times and finally waking up the tall woman that was lying on the couch. She swept some of her lightly curled, brown hair away from her face and opened her eyes. Both of her legs were hanging over the armrest and she crunched her long toes as she stretched. She then swung them over to the ground and stood up. She smacked her dry mouth a few times and ran her fingers along her bare side to rub away an itch; then she stopped. She scratched a few more times and realized she wasn't scratching through any clothing. She looked down at her body.

  Sara gasped. The shirt she was wearing was in tatters. The front was totally gone and one shoulder had torn through. One pant leg was squeezing her thigh while the rest of her sweats dangled loosely from it. The waist of her panties was still there, it had risen up to around her navel and the crotch had torn. She looked up and found that ceiling had come down by quite a bit. Sara smiled and gazed around her apartment in wonder. She abruptly stopped and ran to her bedroom, not bothering to cover up her naked body.

  She quickly went to the wall where she had been measuring herself and made another notch with her eyeliner pencil. She turned and saw that her new mark was a good deal higher than her last 5' 6" check. She eagerly grabbed her measuring tape and began to reel it out; Sara pushed one end with her foot against the wall and stretched it taut. She laughed at the results. The tape only went up to seventy-two inches, or six feet, and she almost had that beat with her astonishing, new 5' 11" body.

  "And a half!" Sara strode over to her mirror and was forced to bend down a little to see all of herself in it's refelctive surface. She tilted it back to see her face and fell in love with what she saw. With her left hand, Sara tore away what was left of her pants and used her right to remove her shirt; she stood defiantly in nothing but the thin silk remains of her panties.

  She looked at her smooth legs, turning around to see her tight derriere. She always worked to keep herself in shape, but whatever was happening to her had taken it to another level. Sara ran her hands along her sides; she had a very trim waistline with a firm stomach and gorgeous hips. Her breasts were round and extremely perky, despite their immense size, with large and dark nipples; the tips proudly erect from the rough aureole. She rubbed them for a few seconds and felt the familiar chills run through her. Her shoulders were broad and easily supported her chest. Sara brought up one arm and curled it to watch her bicep flex. It was fair, but well-defined, like her whole body; femininely muscular, athletic, lithe, and strong.

  "I am a goddess!" Sara spun a few more times and then stopped in mild confusion. She remembered Shawn giving her a ride back the night before, but she couldn't remember what had happened after that. She shrugged.

  Oh well, I'll see him today anyway. He thought he liked what he saw before, he'll flip over me now!

  She squinted at her statuesque body once more and then at her closet. She smiled and skipped over to it.

  "Supermodel!" Sara threw open the door and began tossing pairs of shoes and boxes out onto her bedroom floor. After a few minutes she found what she was looking for and tossed it on her bed. It was a dusty cardboard box with a ribbon tied around it. It was meant to be a birthday present for Evelyn Drake; of course, that was before Sara knew what a complete and total bitch she was.

  She opened the box and found a dark purple business suit and skirt. The jacket might be a little tight, but the rest should fit just about right.

-     -     -

  All right, this is it.

  Benjamin opened up his beaten-up backpack and took out the bag of bearclaws. He checked the styrofoam cups of coffee in his little carryall to see if they were still piping hot. The man at the donut shop was always good to him, making sure the breads and drinks were fresh, but this was a special case. He then grabbed his walking cane which he had leaned against the wall and knocked on the door. His keen ears heard Sara curse somewhere in the back of her apartment. He could feel his knees shaking. She called out.

  "Who is it?"

  "It's ... Benji."

  She paused for a moment.

  "Okay, hold on a second." She unlocked the door and opened it. He lifted up the bag and coffee.

  "I brought breakfast!" He stepped inside.

  "Ben! That's so sweet." She closed the door behind him. Sara smiled, she watched him as he walked and felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that she was a little taller than her friend; regardless of the fact that he was wearing shoes while she was still barefoot.

  "Are you okay? Your voice sounds a little ... husky."

  "Really? I didn't realize."

  Benjamin turned his head towards her, as if trying to work out a mental problem. Sara realized what he was doing and stooped over before speaking again.

  "Please, sit down."

  "... Thanks."

  They both pulled up chairs and he began to take out pastries from it's white bag. Sara put her long legs up on another chair and graciously accepted her coffee.

  "It's pecan cinnamon with two creams and three sugars."

  "Just the way I like it."

  "Always."

  Sara smiled again and he continued.

  "I'm sorry if I got you at a bad time."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Well I kinda heard you grumping when I knocked."

  "Oh, you just caught me right out of the shower."

  "Ooo," Ben smirked in mock (yet semi-real) excitement, he was used to this kind of situation; but this time was a little different. The tension bringing his emotions to a slightly higher level.

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