A swirly cloud of something that looked like fog filled the room, and then faded into the night. A man lay sleeping in a bed, covers pulled up to his chin. The clock next to him showed "6:59", then quietly flipped to "7:00" and began to beep.

Jim was asleep, and right in the middle of a very exciting dream, when the loud beeping of the alarm woke him up. He blinked his eyes a few times, rolled over and turned off the alarm. He lay there in bed for a moment, remembering what he was supposed to do today. Whatever it was, it had to be better than yesterday, he thought - today is a brand new day!

After laying there quietly for a moment, Jim:

Jim, only half awake, fully remembered where he was before his rude interruption. After silencing the alarm, he collapsed back into his new down pillow and felt himself drifting away...

Ah, yes.. That's where he was.. Target. He had just gone in to see if they started selling DVD's yet. No DVDs here, but some other new product was in that had all the women in town packing into the store in droves. He looked above him to see a giant sign that read, "SuperBRA is HERE!"

Jim heard a door open behind him and he spun around to see a young hispanic woman emerging from the dressing rooms. She lifted her hands to cup her breasts and let out a sigh of pleasure. Jim stood there, staring at her from 3 feet away. Either she was too wrapped up in her new bra to notice him, or she didn't care. Jim's eyes widened as he noticed her nipples stiffen and poke her bra and tight, white blouse. She let out another sigh and her breasts swelled to the size of large oranges.

Jim took another step forward to get an even better view of the spectacle. He could feel his pantsnake growing in his shorts. The young lady groaned with a big smile on her face as her breasts swelled out further. She bounced them up and down with her palms and giggled as she watched them jiggle up and down. Dropping her hands to her sides, she arched her back and let out a "Mmmmmmmm!" as her boobs swelled again, to the size of cantalopes. Her nipples were trying to puch their way out of her bra, making two little tents in her blouse.

Jim couldn't believe what he was wittnessing. The beautiful woman was still in her pose, back arched, looking to the ceiling. Her breasts swelled up another time. The outlines of her bra were clearly visible in her blouse. It must be made of some kind of spandex material, because it was stretching well to accommodate her growth spurts. Then she let out a loud moan and her breasts swelled up again, projecting from her ribcage a good 10 inches, Jim thought. Her blouse tore open in front, revealing her deep, dark, SuperBRA-encased cleavage. At this point she snapped out of her pose and looked down at her incredible bust. Her skin was deeply tanned and covered with goosebumps from the air-conditioning.

A salesclerk in a red vest walked past her and she stopped him and asked, "Where do you have blouses?" Before the clerk could respond, Jim was jolted awake by the ringing of a telephone.

Jim groggily picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Good morning sir. This is Francine with MCI long distance. How are you this morning?"

Jim emitted a low, plaintive groan into the receiver and slammed the phone back down. He wanted to doze back off into his dream, but recalling it was his girlfriend Sharon's birthday, he decided he should give her a ring. He picked the phone back up and dialed, but curiously, after 12 rings there was still no answer.

Jim groaned.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled, swinging his hairy legs over the side of his bed. "MCI is doin' it door-to-door, now."

The rapping sound repeated smartly, almost professionally. Jim shuffled across his hardwood floor, grasping for his robe. It would not do to answer in the buff. One could get arrested for that. Jim wasn't about to follow in his father's footsteps, not that direction.

The door had time to sound off once more before Jim groggily reached it. Belatedly, he realized he was probably a fright, as he usually suffered from near-terminal bedhead in the morning. It was too late, however; the light of day was streaming inside, illuminating every single flaw he possessed.

"Package, sir," came a voice just as smart, sharp and professional as the knocking.

Jim peered painfully past the terribly cheerful sunlight pelting him like tiny golden swizzle sticks and into the eyes of a remarkably tall woman dressed in a kind of uniform he failed to recognize. It was black with yellow piping and looked almost painted on her without really revealing anything. She was also, to his surprise, rather taller than he was. That did not happen very often to him.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, still not quite there, "a package? From whom?"

Once again a little late, he noticed that the statuesque carrier had a cardboard box the size of his head underneath one arm. Her other hand held a clipboard, which she checked.

"A...Hubert Wu, of Climax, Minnesota." Her words were clipped and clearly in formal dress, without being entirely unfriendly.

Wu? Doctor Wu? Christ, Jim thought, what did that quack want from him now. His expression must have been telling, for the woman before him shifted slightly.

"Did you wish to refuse the package, sir?" she asked.

Jim chased the last of his cobwebs away. "Oh, no...no, that's fine, I'll take it."

She smiled a tight little smirk as Jim accepted the box from her. The odor of vanilla and jasmine followed the package, though jim could not discern if the smell originated from it or the woman. He signed his name absently on the proferred clipboard, whereupon the oddly dressed carrier performed a neat aboutface and returned to her van, also colored black and yellow. Jim nearly dropped the package as he was virtually forced to watch the hypnotic motion of the woman's incredible hips and ass...the action made Jim think of Swiss clockwork, except that clocks rarely graced Jim with the stirrings of an erection. The van, which was of an unfamiliar design, started up with a low purr and pulled out into the street. Smartly, of course.

Jim closed the door, restoring the murky dank that lived quite comfortably inside his home. He walked to his dining table (not that he ever ate off of it) in order to set the tan box down and get some coffee going, but he stopped when he thought he heard a strange noise. It sounded a little like bees fucking.

"What the hell?" Placing the mysterious package to his ear, Jim discovered the source of the noise, if the quiet, rhythmic humming could be awarded that term. As he listened, Jim found that, bizarrely, his normally predictable penis was still swelling, poking out of his robe for no apparent reason.