Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Weirder Spreadsheets of Live


"So you want to do this?" asked Chad. He had the aura, though he had asked the question a dozen times in the last three hours, that the answer would change to no.

Sarah didn't bother answering him. She took Chad’s hands and put them on her bra covered breast. She literally squeezed his hands into her large breast, letting him feel the weight and their firmness, their splendour, through her bra. She felt his hands were tentative - almost as if she was doing the work.

"You can take your shirt off."

"I have boobs," confessed sadly Chad.

Chad, it should be explained, was a nice guy.  He was a very nice guy, which Sarah liked. He was Sarah’s friend...not her best friend, but a good friend. He shared her love of movies and science fiction, if not quite her love of how it was put together. They were part of a clique of nerds-and not the only clique of nerds in Lincoln High school in Tallahassee.

He was also fat. Sarah, in high school, could be described as overweight...but also very statuesque. Her huge boobs distracted from her above average stomach. Chad was fat, and awkward...and human.

And Sarah was about to make love to him.


Sarah genuinely liked Facebook - it was a good way to make friends. Or keep up with contacts. Michael Zuckerberg didn't think about it, but in the entertainment industry one tended to meet a lot of people, be very close to them for a brief period, and move on. A perfect description of a Facebook connection. Sarah was friends with a couple of famous actors, and a lot of grips and extras.

But that wasn't all of them. Some where Like Chad, her friend from high school in Florida. On Facebook she learned that he went to the University of Florida, where he got a degree in computer something, and was now working on spreadsheet software in Atlanta. She also learned he was married and had a kid.

Sarah didn't put up a lot of photos of herself, as she was afraid of exposing her secret identity. Chad had. He was still fat, but not terribly. His wife was pretty. So was his son (well, pretty may not be the right word to describe a three year old, but you know what I mean).

He was doing what Facebook was also good for. He was coming to LA for a conference or something and wanted to have lunch.


"So you really want to do this?" asked Chad.

They where now both nude. It would be tricky at this point to stop.

Sarah climbed backward onto the bed opening her powerfully defined thighs. he looked at them. She normally wore dresses or pants to school so Chad never saw her legs. He absently started to stroke them as he sat on bed.

"You can climb on top of me," said Sarah.

"Really?" said Chad.

Sarah nodded.

Chad did, putting his mass over her body.

"I'm not too heavy?"

Sarah could lift up a tank. She couldn't juggle them, as that was physically impossible, but she could throw ’em. Chad didn't know that. Only her parents and her doctor did. And that one guy a couple of years ago who saw her in the forest and didn't say anything. It was her secret - now she was sharing her other secret with Chad.

"Your fine," assured Sarah. "You feel good.”

Sarah leaned up and kissed him, sucking a bit on his tongue as Chad at last started to relax a little. But only a little.

Sarah grabbed his penis, put it to her lips, and leaned up to take him.


"Yeah, I haven't seen iIon Man 3 yet," said Chad.

"Really?" Sarah asked. "You we’re just a huge fan of the comic."

They were eating lunch in a little Thai place of Normandie. Sarah had been there a couple times. She looked at Chad. Sarah had, since high school, turned from above average to rubenesque (though she had gained a lot of muscle in the process). Chad had gone the opposite direction and turned from fat to maybe plump. He had a better haircut and glasses, both the kind of things you go into the store to buy when you had money. He obviously had some, but not so much to flaunt it - or if he did it was in a way that didn't register in LA.

"You have a 3 year old, life priorities change"

Sarah nodded. "I could never get into it. Comicbook Iron Man is too much of a jerk."

"But that's his charm," observed Chad. "I actually didn't like the movies as much. He kind-of gets whittled down to a likeable dick. He’s a tech savvy James Bond - especially in the second movie."

"That wasn't very good," said Sarah.

"If you want to do a metaphor for alcoholism...that’s not it. So how was the third?"

"Ehhh," said Sarah. "It felt like it was trying a little hard from this desire to make him human and...like, well...James Bond."

"Hard mix for a superhero."

Tell me about it, thought Sarah.

"Wonder what it’s like doing it for real," Chad mused.

It was a conversation they had before in high school. What was different was then Sarah was dreaming. She never did many actual super-heroic activities until college. Now it was reality. What was it like? I don't know read the rest of the stories in the series. Sarah couldn't summarize it to Chad. She felt very close to him and very far apart. Nothing changes with high school friends and yet nothing stays the same. "So hows the conference?”

"Ehh, not really that interesting. Spreadsheeting is one of things that you can say was probably perfected in 1987. Not much changed since then, so... Ahh. Microsoft is pretty much the only game in town too. So every couple of years they add a few whistles and bells and an industry tries to ring ‘em. But ehh."

"So why did you come?"

"Paid trip; LA...you."

Sarah giggled.


"Are you sure want to do this?" asked Chad, even as he thrust into her.

"Your doing it," said Sarah. "That’s it..."

They were having sex. Sarah would not qualify it as making love, but as sharing physical affection. Chad was decent, and he was trying. Something she already had experience with was people who didn't. He wanted to thrust into her and satisfy her, bending her slightly to increase contact with her clit. He was trying, and she was feeling an honest joy in the experience...a sense that it was.

He buried his head into her breasts - at last seeming released. not that kind of release but a release of tension, of fear, a sense that he was finally one with  the experience, truly there and inside of her. Close to her...with her.

"My god your boobs are awesome!!!"

It was the sweetest thing Sarah had ever heard.


Lunch was over before it begun.  Well not literally, as time functioned normally. It wasn't one of the weirder spreadsheets Shad mentioned.

Sarah learned a lot about Chad’s wife. She was a secretary at the company he worked for, and though she didn't quite think it (as it was to dark) the words ‘married him for money’ wafted into her brain. Which was a shame, really. For a half a second she thought of her entire life and realized perhaps it was: It was hard with romantic partners for her. She had never really been in love - not once, not really. At least at the time. Often rosy memories turned half-baked sexual encounters into love though. She loved in the past, occasionally in the future, but never in the present. She had never found the right one.

After lunch was over she walked to her car, pausing at a bus bench to sit. Where was her life going? Would she ever find someone to share it with? To share her secret...her fate?

In high school Chad had been very good at math and computers. She had been, to a degree, but went into art instead. Now Chad was probably wealthier then her, but didn't have Nathan Fillon as a Facebook friend (he had guest-stared on the show she worked on. He seemed nice enough guy, though was actually pretty chubby). Los Angeles was a nice place to live but expensive. The beaches, the restaurants,  it was...

A bus came right in front of her, opening the door.

She looked in.

LA also had a surprisingly robust mass transit system, but like a lot of people in LA, Sarah had never used it. She didn't now.

She waved.

The bus driver gave her a look that could only be described as dirty, but probably wasn't for reasons of the mass transit agency’s legal liability. The doors closed.


Then the bus hit a gas truck and exploded.

Tallahassee - 2003

"My god," declared Chad as he pushed himself into her.

This was tricky for Sarah. She didn't want to hurt him. Him most of all. At the moment as he was very close to pushing her over the edge  One of the biggest things in her life was that she had to work so very hard to be normal, but it was so engrained in her that at some level she didn't work at all - except in moments like this. Except when she had a super strong vagina that would eat him alive if she let it...chew him up and toss him out.

So she concentrated not on contracting it, but expanding it, pushing it open a tad as she closed her eyes to relax. It was hard having sex.

But as she shivered and felt alive like she never did, as beauty entered her brain and a shiver ran across her spine, as she felt him next to her and felt connected to someone...to something. And not, as in her darkest moments, a monster or a freak - but a hero of the orgasm-giving variety (could Superman say that?).  It was all so, so worth it. So worth it

And then he skewered her inside with dribbles of boy juice. And that was just great to. Just really great.

Sarah leaned over, and kissed Chads face. Not his lips, but his face.


How it precisely happened, Sarah didn't know. But it did. The bus had hit the truck. She wasn't paying attention, too caught up in her own private sorrows. The truck was burning but the truck driver was fine. Not so much the bus.

But now she could do something about it.

There wasn't a lot, or really any people, in the Koreatown  area on the street. LA could be pretty empty in the daytime in the city.  Which helped, and hurt her, to a degree but what can you do. It helped in that what she was going to do wouldn't have an audience.

She jumped off the bus bench and pushed the 8 ton bus away from the tanker, which was really was on fire.

She looked inside. The driver was trapped, but not the passengers. The front entrance had been crushed in the accident, however in the back people were streaming out in a panic. Had they seen her? Who knew? Who cared?

She was a superhero even wearing a sundress goddamit.

She pushed open the door to the cab, which was also on fire, and got in. The driver, yes, was trapped...in air bag that was on fire. She paid her no mind. However, behind her was a woman in a wheelchair that had been pushed in the front of the bus.

"Help me!" Sarah said to no-one in particular.

Ahh well it didn't matter.

She grabbed the homeless and old looking, lady from her wheelchair with an easy pull of her hand, holding her on her shoulder. Sarah raced out and put her on the ground. She re-entered, and pulled the drivers seatbelt which she seemed to come off with an easy pull. Sarah looked dazed and confused over what happened, then turned inside.

She saw an older man had hit the side of the window and was unconscious. She reached to pick him up.

When the bus rocked. The fire had hits it tank.

She sheltered her partner with her body, and she pushed out the window...literally. It didn’t break but just flew across the street, hit a donut shop - and then broke. She jumped out with the guy - then did a step she sometimes did.

She ran to her purse, she pulled out her mask, (a copy of which she kept in there for extreme emergencies) quickly putting it on.

She saw one more person for some reason just panicking in the back of the bus.

"Please let it end...please let it end..." It was a punk boy of about 25, who looked tough enough, though thin. Yeah...courage: you can't buy it at a store.

Sarah walked over.

"Get away! Get away!!”

She ignored him and picked him up. The bus didn't look that stable. She moved to the end and kicked open a fire door and stood outside of it.

Then she realized all her clothing was on fire.


Her sundress was almost entirely gone at this point, burnt to a crisp and falling off in large pieces to the ground. Her bra snapped open when it hit her back, letting her cups fall out right into the street. Her modest-ish panties where holding in place, but well...her Mary Jane’s...

Thankfully Sarah herself was fireproof.

Yeah, she was surrounded by flames, holding up a kid...who she tossed to the ground while still on the bus so they wouldn’t catch that the fire that was covering her body.

God what about her hair? Oh fuck...

When she looked to see Chad staring at her.

The exact last person she wanted to see right now.


"Yeah we did it all night long. Me and Jennings," Chad said to his friend. "She was like oh oh oh, and I was like oh oh oh..."

Chad was a talker. It took him less than 24 hours after the event to tell every damn person he knew. Literally. Sarah learned she even told his priest. Everyone.

Chad didn't talk to everyone at school of course. Impossible. However, he told a lot who told more. And yeah, in about a week, all the stories were about Sarah.

Which, of course, was exactly what she wanted.

Chad was a friend of hers. A good friend even. She also had the distinct impression that he would never have sex voluntarily in his life - so throw him a fuck. He deserved it. I mean, he did lend her his thick bound printed Iron Man books. He deserved it. And telling people about it (which she freely admitted) probably improved his rep a bit. Maybe, just maybe, another girl would want to take her place...build up his confidence despite the man boobs.

As for her - it was 2003. She was 16. Who cared if she slept around a little or had a fling? She had standards, and was empowered by her sexuality. She let it be that way. She had big boobs. Yeah some people snickered that she gave it to the fat kid, but some kinder people thought it was good of her to give it to the fat kid. So the fuck what?
It wasn't like she loved him. Despite inventing stories of oral sex and anal play, next week they would watch Stargate SG-! together.

It wasn't like she loved him.


Sarah stood in front of Chad in all her glory.

And a couple of people with camera phones.

Ahh, people had seen pictures of her boobs before. It wasn't hard to find on the internet. The newspapers, even TMZ, didn't show it. She was invulnerable; her costume was not. What people going to call her a slut for saving at least 5 lives from a burning bus?

"Will you please delete those?"

She had some standards. Most of them appeared to be doing as she asked.

However, Chad...her mask was intact but her goodies were present...

"Wow...'Mazing Girl..."

Sarah looked at him.

"Move along. This bus ain't stable."

She jumped up and climbed underneath it (making sure quickly that no one was left) and picked it up, hefting it over her shoulders for a second, the 15 ton weight light enough for her but unbalanced a tad. Still, she made do.

And then she jumped up.

As she was 100 feet up the second tank blew and there was a fairly huge explosion in the sky. Not gigantic really, but still pretty big as explosions went. Pretty damn big.

And Sarah was now totally nude.


She and Chad never had sex again. Never so much as kissed again. It was just a one time thing: an event.  She didn't want to break his heart by staying with him, making it more then that - and for the next couple of years, until college pushed them apart, he was squarely her second or third best friend at school.

But she often wondered. Did he want more? Had she hurt him by sleeping with him and running? The thought occasionally came to her. She didn't need X-ray vision to see his cock sometimes when they were together, and Sarah remembered what it did to her. She wondered... And there was something to his slightly bashful face; the way it saw her that knew it wanted her. Wanted her badly.

It was something she would learn very well.

For, yes, that was something, if anyone had asked her what being a superhero was really like. When people looked at her they always wanted her. That was the most prominent power of a superheroine. Not her huge E-cup boobs, plenty of girls had that, but she could make people love her. When she lifted a bus overhead half the people boys and girls got a woody. She was power and grace and even if a little fat, spectacular. She was a goddess to them.

Which made her feel a little guilty. 


Half an hour latter Sarah was able to find her spare clothing bag her car in the empty parking lot moving at super speed, and was now adjusting it. In an aley she put on a bulky sweater, a bra and sweats. Yes, she wore a bra she needed it.

She found a mirror somehow in the alley, and looked at the damage. Her skin of course was unhurt. Her hair was pretty bad - very badly singed, in a couple of placed burnt. Her bikini area was also burnt but her eyebrows were okay. She was covered in sweat and singe. God...her purse. It was still at the site. She hoped she could get it, as that would be a pain to replace.

But she was okay.

Though what about Chad? Did he know? Did he...?

He probably suspected.

She suspected a lot of people suspected. Some friends, co workers - but people rarely came up to her asked. She could make a category on Facebook of people like that. She always said no - and what could you do then?

Now Chad was there. But he was a talker.

Well...what could she do?

Chad was in town for a couple more days. She could either see him again or not. She kept that up in the air. She wouldn't call him, but if he called her...well.

And she wanted him to call her. Wanted it, if nothing else to know to clear the air, to see if their relationship had changed again. To be in awe of that, the idea of a person, the concept of just being someone alive.

Sarah finally knew what it was like to live in a world of heroes.

Which is something Zuckerberg did intend when he invented Facebook.