I started stewing a little in the anger that was building in his disregard for my feelings when one Saturday mid-morning, the phone rang. I picked up,...a bit ticked because at that time of the morning it was either my mother or telemarketers, and I didn't want to here from either. "Hello?" "Hello. May I please speak to Alisha?" "This is she. Who is this?" "Ben." "Who?" "Ben. Oh, Al." My heart skipped a beat. I had been waiting for this phone call for over a month, but I really didn't expect it. The bikini tops and bras I'vebeen wearing all say 34B on the label, and I'm starting to spill out ofthem a little. It's weird, but I'm more than a little proud of them.I mean I grew them all myself, after all! I wonder how much biggerthey'll get? They feel wonderful too. I must admit, I've been gettinginto those trashy romance novels I salvaged all those months ago,imagining myself as the heroine. My own hands massaging, squeezing,and pinching my nipples as I tore through the sex scenes. More

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