>>24376To save some of Woot's stories:
Cyndi Davis held her bat nervously, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. She'd been known as "Smashin' Cyndi" for her batting prowess all through high school, and her college career was coming off to a great start, but lately a delinquient puberty was starting to put a serious crimp in her style. Her batting average seemed to be falling as fast as her cup size was soaring, and no amount of sports bandages seemed to hold her burgeoning bosom out of the way of her swing. She spent hours every week with her coach, but the extra buldging weight up top just kept throwing her swing off- she was fouling what would be easy homers before, and worse, actually *missing* on occasion! She knew that the regionals were her last big chance. If she couldn't hit it big at the next series, she'd be benched for sure.
—
Well, that was that. "Smashin' Cyndi" was no more. With two straight strikeouts not even getting a piece of a ball at the regionals, she'd been pulled off batting duty all but permanently. Still, her coach knew talent when he saw it, and so Cyndi found herself at second base. Not the most prestigious position on the field, certainly wasn't first base or shortstop, but still vital to the team. Her still-growing assets even proved to be somewhat useful in the role- the way they strained the seams on even the losest league jersey, some erstwhile base-stealers would lose their step mid-sprint from being distracted by their huge, wobbly mass. Cyndi was a bit incensed in the back of her mind, but if it helped her win at softball, she'd allow it. After all, softball was her life- so long as she could play, she would, and to the best of her abilities, late blooming be damned.
—
Cyndi sighed as she settled in behind the plate. It was a view she was rather used to, staring down the pitcher, but usually it was staring down the opposing pitcher, not the one from her own team. The decision to make her a catcher had been reached from two angles; firstly, because her enormous chest had made all but the briefest sprints for fly balls nearly impossible, and because the catcher's pad- the largest men's size they could find that was league-allowed- was the only thing even semi-adequate to the task of preserving her modesty. Still, even in this role her enormous bosom offered a ta
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.