Each broad concrete slab that made up the beach side path was a griddle stuck on high and the immense weight of her boobs acted like a spatula wielded by an angry cook. Her rear was mashed against the scorching surface. Not only was her butt battered, it was starting to fry.
Megan squirmed while trying to remember key details of her latest sudden encounter with the ground. The best explanation she could muster was that after two plus months of living with a chest you could calibrate a carpenter's level off of, she had lost much of the hard-won grace she earned living the life of the ridiculously over-endowed. Upon further introspection, she was forced to admit she never possessed much of that grace to begin with.
Indeed, this gravel strewn stretch of pavement looked eerily familiar. Megan was certain she wiped out here years earlier when she was first learning how to rollerblade. To think: after all this time, she was still terrible at the stupid sport. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Also annoying was the complete indifference of passersby. A teenager slowed down, but only enough to take a photo with his cell phone camera. That did it. She was crying but hadn't reached the bawling stage when she felt a gentle hand alight on her kneepad. Through teary eyes she could see a man beside her. He was wearing runner's garb and a concerned expression.
"Hey there. Are you OK? Did you hit your head? Break anything?"
Megan was still too choked up to respond verbally. She shook her head to all three questions and dried her eyes with the terrycloth backing of her fingerless gloves.
"Alright, well do you mind if I patch you up a bit before getting you back on your feet? Looks like you got a few mementos from your fall."
She gave a tremendous sniffle before saying "sure. Are you a doctor?"
"Even better!" he beamed. "A paramedic. If I was a doctor I'd just refer you to somebody else and you'd have to fill out a stack of paperwork as you bled out on the ground. Boy, I'm glad I brought my fanny pack. Aside from being super stylish, it's good for holding stuff like Lunchables, Alf pogs, and antibacterial ointment." He paused to give her a serious look. "Now to clean these cuts, I'm going to have to touch your breasts. I want to make sure that's OK."
"That's fine. And thanks so much for offering to help."
"Alright. The parable of The Good Samaritan took place a little before sexual harassment and malpractice lawsuits. The alcohol wipe I'm going to use to sterilize the abrasions will sting, so bear with me."
"Do your worst, I'm a big girl." From his immediate smirk, Megan realized she said the wrong thing.
"My favorite kind!" He received a playful kick from her rollerbladed foot and he told corny jokes to keep her distracted from the discomfort that dressing her injuries caused.
After helping her upright he patted himself down, frowning. "Usually I carry lollipops for such nice patients. Sadly I'm all out. Do you mind accompanying me to Eugen & Bergen's instead?"
Ooh, ice cream! After sizzling on that sidewalk she could use something to cool off. She beamed at him. "I wholeheartedly accept."It's hard to tell, from the variation in angles, whether she's bigger in this shot than in her first appearance, although she's obviously returned to form from her encounter with FLAT.
She doesn't have the rare appetite necessary to tackle the Bismarck. She chose a double scoop of the flavor of the day in one of E&B's delicious hand made waffle cones (for the folks that are curious).
And she is a bit bigger up top now. She mentioned that she "was certain she wiped out here years earlier when she was first learning how to rollerblade." She's grown up- and out!
I finally got around to writing an rss feed for the comments people leave here. It's available at http://woot.iiichan.net/rss.php?mode=comments while the main image rss is, as always, at http://woot.iiichan.net/rss.php
Not only is she drawn bigger (which is always better in my book) but she is drawn better two; you were already a great artist back in the day but I see a lot of improvement on what was already awesome skill by looking at the the overall attention on detail, especially on the roller blades.
And I liked the little story that accompanied the picture.
I thought about repainting her to get a closer match to the original image. Then I figured reducing the big boob finale image to the FLAT arc (even if just for the sake of correcting an inconsistancy) would be too cruel for words. Toow's supposed to be in exile, right?
Anyway, she's had a few years to grow in between the original drawing and this one. Hope that explains it.
After awhile of looking at this( and your previous work)..... This girl is my favorite from all the others9 including the Milk and cookies series-that's saying something). I hope you have a "mini" series on either how she got to her size(years ago-from what you said.)or what happens "after" this submission-i'm really intrested,just a lil consideration.... Also because ten Finger's has been a lil "Rouge" lately lol-hint hint-
Megan squirmed while trying to remember key details of her latest sudden encounter with the ground. The best explanation she could muster was that after two plus months of living with a chest you could calibrate a carpenter's level off of, she had lost much of the hard-won grace she earned living the life of the ridiculously over-endowed. Upon further introspection, she was forced to admit she never possessed much of that grace to begin with.
Indeed, this gravel strewn stretch of pavement looked eerily familiar. Megan was certain she wiped out here years earlier when she was first learning how to rollerblade. To think: after all this time, she was still terrible at the stupid sport. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Also annoying was the complete indifference of passersby. A teenager slowed down, but only enough to take a photo with his cell phone camera. That did it. She was crying but hadn't reached the bawling stage when she felt a gentle hand alight on her kneepad. Through teary eyes she could see a man beside her. He was wearing runner's garb and a concerned expression.
"Hey there. Are you OK? Did you hit your head? Break anything?"
Megan was still too choked up to respond verbally. She shook her head to all three questions and dried her eyes with the terrycloth backing of her fingerless gloves.
"Alright, well do you mind if I patch you up a bit before getting you back on your feet? Looks like you got a few mementos from your fall."
She gave a tremendous sniffle before saying "sure. Are you a doctor?"
"Even better!" he beamed. "A paramedic. If I was a doctor I'd just refer you to somebody else and you'd have to fill out a stack of paperwork as you bled out on the ground. Boy, I'm glad I brought my fanny pack. Aside from being super stylish, it's good for holding stuff like Lunchables, Alf pogs, and antibacterial ointment." He paused to give her a serious look. "Now to clean these cuts, I'm going to have to touch your breasts. I want to make sure that's OK."
"That's fine. And thanks so much for offering to help."
"Alright. The parable of The Good Samaritan took place a little before sexual harassment and malpractice lawsuits. The alcohol wipe I'm going to use to sterilize the abrasions will sting, so bear with me."
"Do your worst, I'm a big girl." From his immediate smirk, Megan realized she said the wrong thing.
"My favorite kind!" He received a playful kick from her rollerbladed foot and he told corny jokes to keep her distracted from the discomfort that dressing her injuries caused.
After helping her upright he patted himself down, frowning. "Usually I carry lollipops for such nice patients. Sadly I'm all out. Do you mind accompanying me to Eugen & Bergen's instead?"
Ooh, ice cream! After sizzling on that sidewalk she could use something to cool off. She beamed at him. "I wholeheartedly accept."
It's hard to tell, from the variation in angles, whether she's bigger in this shot than in her first appearance, although she's obviously returned to form from her encounter with FLAT.