Ann’s nasty new nature

When I was in elementary school, there was a girl that I couldn’t stop thinking about. She was a spritely little thing, mischievous and exciting. She had red hair, a few freckles scattered about her ever-smiling face, and a body that I found exciting when I was 10. I can’t remember what I found attractive about her; who knows how kids’ minds work. All I know is that I was devastated when she moved away after fifth grade and out of my life forever.
As all these things go, I moved on, went to high school, college, had the usual experiences. I never gave her a thought after a while, just like any number of girls that drift in and out of a man’s life. Also like most college kids, I had gotten on Facebook. One day, I received a friend request from Ann and I was delighted to stumble across that name again and gladly accepted.
When perusing her profile, I began to look at her pictures. There were pictures of her in high school, where it looked like she had been a cute little thing on the track team, sun bouncing off her red hair. She had an athletic body, with strong legs and a nice physique, not weirdly thin like a lot of high school girls think is pretty. I was impressed with what she had grown into and I wondered if I had grown into something she would be impressed with. Then I found her college pictures.
The college pictures told a completely different story than the innocent smiles of the earlier years. These latter shots showed Ann at wild parties, drinking, dancing, all the stuff that goes on at a college. Of course, she wasn’t there first girl to go from mild to wild in the college jump, but there was something different about this case. Her boobs had clearly grown exponentially since high school.
I am not stupid. These were implants; she had gone from a small B to a solid D in the space of a year. That doesn’t happen. Normally I am not a huge fan of the fake boobs, but the clothes she was wearing in these photos really knew how to show them off. In every picture it seemed, she was in some low cut shirt or dress, with her breasts pushed up and together. They were big and fantastic. They were clearly a big deal to her friends, with many of the pictures of people pointing at her boobs and everyone smiling. She had different color hair from shot to shot. There were shots of her yelling as a couple guys took shot glasses out from between her tits with their mouths. There was a Halloween picture of her as a Playboy bunny with a guy dressed as Hugh Hefner, and she leaned over, almost totally exposing her breasts, to kiss his penis through his pants. She had become completely sexualized; it appeared her new tits had given her a sexual confidence.
It was with great delight then that I got a message from her expressing her excitement over a wedding we were both invited to. I had no idea that she had been invited, and I was just going to go because I felt guilty not going. A couple friends, Adrienne and Eric, were marrying young and I didn’t know them too well; I was shocked to get the invite. I was definitely excited to go now though. Ann was all about it since she was better friends with them than I was. To me, she wrote:

Hi Will!
Oh my god, it is so good to find you! I am so excited for this WEDDING! It’s been so long, we have to catch up! SEE U SOON!

It was classic giddy college girl speak. I was looking forward to it myself.

When the day came, I found myself pretty nervous. I was a single guy in college and I went with a friend who had also been invited, Jon. The couple had had a quiet service for just family, which was fine with me. I didn’t really want to go anyway, the service isn’t where the fun is. The bride’s family was quite rich and the banquet hall they had rented out was lavish. It was in one of the more swanky hotels in the area. I scoured the people milling about for Ann, but didn’t find her. Settling that we had arrived before she did, Jon and I found our way to our assigned table. He knew what was going on with me; I hadn’t made any effort to hide it. He teased me about it a bit, but I blew it off. It might turn out to be well worth the drive.
We were at a table with a bunch of high school friends, so it was great to catch up with them. Though Ann had moved away before high school, she had been assigned to the seat right next to me, a move that was incredibly lucky. Hers was the only seat not taken at our table. After about 20 minutes of catching up and reminiscing with the people at the table, Jon elbowed me sharply in the side and pointed his head towards the door. There stood Ann, flanked on either side by her parents, family friends of the bride. They too were wealthy and Ann had dressed as such. She looked incredible in her sleek little black dress. She was short and still had the athletic body, about 5’5” I would guess (hard to tell with her black heels) and 110 lbs or so. Her dress was very tight and her form left little to the imagination. There was barely room for a thong in there. Her ass stuck out from the back of the dress delectably, a very nice white girl booty. She walked over to our table greeted everyone and sat down next to me. She gave me a big hug and started talking to me.
This part of the story is a little blurry for me. The first time I saw Ann’s new tits was an experience that left me conscious of little else. They were more amazing in person than I could have ever guessed from the photos, and the photos looked pretty damn good. Her dress clung to her hips and was backless while the front cupped her tits and tied around behind her neck. Being able to see all of her neck and back proved she wore no bra, yet her D-cup tits stuck out high on her chest, pushed together beautifully like I had seen on the online photos. She wore a necklace with a small rectangular pendant at the end which hung down fairly far between her boobs, daring you to look there. Her hair, now a reddish blonde, fell lightly upon the upper part of her tits. The dress was designed masterfully, cupping the breasts and pushing them up and together while still exposing almost everything above and to the inside of the nipple. I was floored.
“Ann, you look so different,” I said, adding that I remembered her as a redhead when I realized people might think I was talking about her implants. I was, of course.
“Yeah, I dye it all the time. Plus I got these!” she exclaimed and grabbed on to her boobs. Everyone laughed, relieved that it wasn’t something we couldn’t talk about. Ann was clearly very proud of them and had brought her a lot of attention. We had a delightful dinner, everyone enjoying themselves, getting tipsy, buzzed, then drunk on the open bar. After dinner and a few drinks, Ann asked me to dance.
The song was slow so we danced close. She wrapped her arms around my neck and we swayed back and forth. With her arms lifted over her head, her boobs were pushed closer together and lifted higher than they were before. I couldn’t help but look down and ask.
“So what made you do it?” I asked, a question she must have answered a thousand times.
“Well, my old boyfriend thought mine were too small and it pissed me off.