[Fonk]

I smell conspiracy! 😉 Great stuff, El_Roy. 🙂

[Fonk]

Oh my goodness! That's gorgeous stuff. Please keep going! 😀

[Fonk]

Apart from the obvious (good TV, good music, good company, good literature, good food, etc.):

Touching the leaves of trees as I go past

Standing at a beach and watching the tide ebb and flow

Walking in the rain, umbrella or no

A gentle breeze on a hot day

A baby's smile (no, I'm not like that! :oops:)

[Fonk]

That's a great addition! Thanks scat! 😎

[Fonk]

That's some great writing, right there! 😀

[Fonk]

That's a good start, right there. I'd love to see more! Thanks for posting. 😀

[Fonk]

I'm ahead of schedule here! 😮 But that's a good thing, right? 😎

—————

The White Knight Cometh – Part 5

"We was all so busy with her that no-one thought to look at the bus," the driver continued, milking his moment of fame for all it was worth, "till she was round the corner and well out of sight."

The camera cut from the driver to a smart-looking man in a crisp grey suit and yellow tie holding an old-fashioned mike in his right hand. He was standing near to where Amber had hit the bus, but he was in front of a tree. The sunlight spiralled down onto his suit in flickers and shafts.

"First Buses has said that they will not be pressing charges, but local pressure groups are calling it a – "

They never found about the local pressure groups, as Tony had had the presence of mind to turn the TV off. Sunita hugged her friend tightly. Amber was crying freely.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she said, stroking Amber's hair. "It looked old anyway." Amber smiled half-heartedly.

"It's just – too much," she replied in between sobs. "How could I do that to a bus?" Tony quietly left the room, heading for the kitchen.

Sunita nodded gently at him as he left. She manoeuvred Amber to the sofa, where they sat down facing each other. Sunita took her friend's hands in hers, making soothing noises and stroking her hair.

"Look, why don't you stay here for the night?" she asked gently. Amber shook her head, looking down at the floor.

"I can't," she explained. "I'm going to Mum's for dinner, and then I'm out with a couple of guys from uni tonight. I can't let them down." Sunita looked critically at Amber.

"You know what?" she began. "I think you're doing too much. You can't keep living the life and not expect to get run-down – " Amber laughed hysterically, a little eerily.

Sunita rolled her eyes and waited for the strange giggles to die down.

"OK, bad choice of words," she said, grinning. "But you know what I mean." Amber nodded, serious now.

"Yeah," she admitted, "and I will start to relax more." There was a pause, during which Sunita smiled beautifully.

"But I have to have today," Amber continued, looking her friend in the eye now. Sunita shook her head sadly.

"That's how it starts," she began. "You 'have to have today', then the next day, then the next. You need time to rest. You know that, you just said it." Amber frowned angrily.

"I do know that," she countered, and stopped, her frown dying away. Sunita was right.

"You're right, you're right," Amber moaned, looking away again. She sighed heavily and seemed to shrink in on herself.

"Sorry I snapped at you," she said, sniffling the last tear away. "I've gotta take it easier, you're right. Thanks, Suni." Amber squeezed her friend's hands.

Sunita winced and Amber let go quickly, smiling wryly to herself.

"OK!" Sunita said, standing. "Time for lunch." Amber smiled happily and stood up too.

"Yeah," she replied firmly. At that point, Tony walked in holding a massive plate of sandwiches and set them on the coffee table.

"Way ahead of you, ladies," Tony grinned.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Amber left Sunita's flat at four o'clock, full of gorgeous food and happier than she'd been in a while. She got on her bicycle and waved to Tony and Sunita, who watched from their window. They grinned and waved back madly. Amber set out on the short journey to her mother's house, just a mile further into the suburbs.

Amber's mother, Sarah, had separated from her husband when Amber was fourteen. She'd gained custody of her daughter – Amber was an only child – and the pair had lived in a small house out in the suburbs. Sarah was a Biology teacher just a couple of years from a justified retirement: she had worked hard for her students over many years. The more Amber thought about, the more she realised how much she owed her mother, who had brought her up almost single-handedly through the most difficult teenage years and got her into university.

Fortunately Sarah's house was the opposite way from where Amber had had her extraordinary accident. Unfortunately, it meant going further up the hill. However, Amber found the going really easy and made the journey in double-quick time. She turned into the drive of her mother's house, a slightly grubby-looking semi-detached house with an unkempt hedge around it, and locked her bicycle in the garage. Unstrapping her helmet, she rang the doorbell. Sarah opened the door and beamed at her daughter.

Unlike Amber, Sarah was tall and slim. Her auburn hair, streaked with grey, fell about her face. Her keen green eyes seemed to say 'I want to know everything about you'. She was wearing a white T-shirt under a grass green cardigan and a similarly coloured skirt.

"Hello, Mum," Amber said, and hugged Sarah tightly. The older woman gasped.

"Have you been going to the gym?" she inquired, when Amber had let go. "I thought you said you couldn't afford it." Amber took a deep breath.

"No, I can't afford it," she admitted. "So I did the next best thing and borrowed Devon's weights." Amber prayed silently, but the answer seemed to satisfy her mother.

"Come in," Sarah said, gesturing behind her into the house. Amber nodded, wiped her feet on the doormat and went into the lounge.

Sarah sat on her sofa whilst Amber took up position on a chair opposite. The coffee table was groaning under the weight of marking. Amber glanced idly at it: there were about thirty write-ups of the famous peanut-burning experiment. The CD player that rested on a small bookcase was on pause; Amber wondered what her mother had been listening to.

"I'm glad you're taking a sensible approach to weights," Sarah began. "It's one of the best ways to lose weight." Mother and daughter both said the next line at the same time.

"The more muscle you have, the easier it is to lose weight." Sarah stopped, bemused, as Amber continued.

"I know, Mum," she said, rolling her eyes. "And it's working, as you can see. Thanks."

"Can I get you something to drink?" Sarah asked, changing tack. "Tea, coffee, water?"

"Water, please," Amber replied. Sarah nodded and left the room.

Amber raised her legs to look at them whilst her mother was out of the room. Her exposed calves looked pretty big now: two or three obvious veins ran the length of both. When she reached to grasp them, Amber found she could barely make a dent in the muscle when she flexed it. Swallowing hard, she put her feet back on the floor.

"Thank goodness this skirt has got an elasticated waist," Amber thought.

Sarah came back into the room with a large tumbler of water for her daughter and a glass of milk for herself. She sat back on the sofa with a contented sigh. They were both visibly struggling for conversation, so Amber asked her traditional question.

"What's for dinner?" Sarah laughed.

"Seeing as you were coming over," Sarah announced, "I thought I'd treat myself to some carbs. We're having spaghetti bolognese." Amber licked her lips.

"My favourite! Thank you!" Sarah smiled happily at her daughter's reaction.

The pair chatted for the next hour – mostly about work, love and the soaps – before they went into the kitchen to make dinner. Amber was glad of the distraction: it gave her time to process the past two days and let everything sink in. Within forty minutes Sarah and Amber were eating. It was heavenly.

Amber stayed to let her food go down. Then she stayed for Coronation Street, leaping up as soon as it had finished.

"Sorry Mum," she said, "but I've got to go. I said I'd be out by nine." Sarah nodded resignedly.

"Go!" she said, waving her daughter towards the door. "Go sacrifice yourself to the God of Dance." Amber smiled confusedly.

"I swear you're going mental, living out here on your own," she replied mockingly. Sarah raised an eyebrow haughtily.

"You're not too old for a smack, Amber Jane Knight," she retorted. By this time, Amber was at the front door.

"That's what I'm scared of!" she said, opening it and stepping through. The night was cold, but the cycling would soon warm her up.

"OK," Sarah said, serious now. "It was lovely to have you here. It's always lovely to have you here." Amber nodded.

"It's always good to come home," she said. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer." Sarah smiled.

"I know how it is. I went to university too, remember," she replied. Amber grinned.

"Back when it was all black and white, and fields as far as the eye could see?" she mocked. Sarah's eyebrow threatened to jump clean off her head.

"OK, OK, I'm going," Amber said, palms up towards her advancing mother. She ran round the side of the house and opened the garage.

A minute later she was setting out, her bicycle lights turned on, waving madly at Sarah as she did so. The journey home was quick, smooth and resolutely accident-free. Amber locked her bicycle away and ran upstairs to shower.

"Hi Amber!" Devon called from his room. The young woman skidded on the landing, having decided to pay her boyfriend a visit.

"Hi honey!" she said, peering round the doorframe at her shirtless lover, who was lying on his bed reading a magazine. She licked her lips saucily at him.

It was Devon's turn to raise his eyebrow.

"I thought you were going out?" he asked, standing up and stretching. Amber watched the ripples of his six-pack stomach dance as he moved.

"I am," she said, after a moment of reverie. "That – " (she licked her lips again) " – and that – was for later." She smiled seductively.

"I'll be awake," he whispered simply. Amber's eyes filled with lust.

She looked at her watch.

"God, I've got to get ready!" she said, and dashed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Amber whipped her clothes off and laid them carefully on the radiator. She was about to turn the shower on when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

It was barely her at all.

Amber frowned and walked closer to the mirror. Then she looked down at what had been her voluptuous body. Even compared to when she last checked herself in the library toilet, the young woman's body had changed beyond recognition.

The most obvious change was in her breasts. Amber had gotten used to being large-chested but this was beyond belief.

"God," she said to herself, "they're like bazookas." It was true: her boobs simply shot straight out of her chest, no sagging at all.

Cupping herself, Amber estimated she had gone up a couple of cup sizes, but there was more. All the imperfections – the moles, the marks – had gone. Her areolae had expanded a little too. Amber bit her lip as she teased her left nipple to erection: it was about three-quarters of an inch long. Biting the lust down, she raised her arms out to her sides: the delicious flesh bulged round the sides of her body.

The fat on her stomach had all but disappeared, to be replaced by a large trail of impressively bulging abdominal muscles starting just below her majestic mounds. Shocked, Amber traced the contours of her new tummy: her abs were bigger than Devon's and harder, too. Looking further down, the young woman saw that her legs were now coated in distinctly unfeminine slabs of thick and brawny power. She ran her hands down her thighs, feeling the ridges and valleys of her huge quads. She lifted one leg at a time to check on her calves: they felt solid as rocks and were riddled with ugly veins.

The young woman's eyes widened like saucers when she clasped her butt. Her unhappily sagging ass had changed into a couple of solid, strong, well-rounded bowling balls, again very smooth. Finally Amber held her arms out in front of her, crushing her boobs together and forming cleavage you could lose a ruler down. She stared at her forearms: thick veins were running up and down them too and her upper arms had swollen to insane proportions.

Amber looked her reflection straight in the eye, biting back tears.

"What the hell is happening to me?!" she shouted.

— To Be Continued —

[Fonk]

Wow, that's a damn good picture! You do good work, sir!

[Fonk]

That's one hell of a flex! 😮

[Fonk]

WHOO-HOO! 😀 I love Futurama.

[Author]

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