HOME | DD

Description
College occupies the center of a multi-faceted Venn diagram of human interests. From Sunday to Saturday, collegiate students can work a litany of needs and desires, from sustenance to sleep, with courses of knowledge and entertainment, in every definition of the word. Life for anyone living their college tenure on-campus meant enduring a long string of education broken up with bouts of living it up, however they measured ‘living it up.’

Some students naturally defined it as engaging every point of their lives in their pursuit of knowledge. Others felt the need to use class time as a much-welcome breather from the arduous tasks known only to them. Both types occupied seats of a lecture hall for biochemistry, with half the students focused intently on the professor and blackboard ahead of them. The other half couldn’t decide whether to text, fall asleep, or count the amount of blocks it would take to build the ceiling in Minecraft (each that tried giving oddly disparate answers, whispering sharply as they recounted verbally).
As some students thus pointed up at the ceiling, others sought the knowledge their professor tried to impart. The chemical formula for cellular respiration stood proudly in huge letters upon the blackboard via a computer screen projection, each letter in friendly red letters. To the side stood the professor, gesturing meticulously around a large tomato plant, his voice waning in and out, vacillating between articulate English lecture and Charlie Brown trumpet musings. For the class half-asleep, it meant dreams of an orchestra playing a musical on what happens when plants turn nutrients into ATP.

For the portion of class paying attention, in meant all the more motivation to scribble a few words (of various degrees of legibility) onto notepads, or (for the technologically savvier crowd) typing a few words out onto a processor via laptop. Up in the ‘nose bleed’ section, by one of the doors, Candance decided to partake in the old-fashioned method of hand-written notes. Her massive chest, easily six times her head’s size minimum, rested on the counter in front of her, clothes tactfully protecting the class from a majority of her bosom’s flesh as she feverishly scuttled her hand and pencil across a page half-filled with notes. The sounds of the pencil scratching the surface of the paper didn’t bother her so much as remind her that she still tethered herself to the limitations of wood pulp – not that her smile ever indicated she wanted it any other way. It also felt rather comforting against her flesh-colored wall, protecting her eyes from the chaos in the lower sections of the lecture hall, which had slowed to a rumbling din of moderate interest and sleep.
Around her was the uppermost echelon of seating, with no one so much as seated with a bust’s length of Candance’s ample frame. The hall itself was modestly full, with the majority of students filling the lower rows out of some feigned attempt to look interested in the material – which didn’t help the sleepers much, though the professor’s gesticulations continued undaunted. His tomato plant felt the sting of gravity as it began to lean in one direction, a particularly healthy tomato threatening to leave the vine and make a run for it. A few students chuckled as the professor plucked it and placed it upon the table, making a joke inaudible to the people farthest from him.

The chuckles managed to reach Candance’s section easily, however, which made her stop her note-taking for a few moments. She attempted to adjust her cleavage to see what the (mild) fuss was over. Through the rather small line of sight she managed to create, she noticed only the tomato and a few bits of the professor that managed to remain in view. The view thus only made Candance shrug before she hummed to herself and let her cleavage return to its natural resting state.
It was then that the sounds of furious footsteps penetrated the door, something which Candance could not help but tilt her head to catch. She hummed with a curious tone as the footsteps came closer and louder, like a March hare late for a very important date. The distinctive sound of sneakers squeaking against polished floors caused Candance to raise her brows as she braced herself for the inevitable entrance of a student in a mad dash to enter class.

The footsteps stopped with a magnificent squeak just short of the door, as someone’s heavy breathing continued the cavalcade of noises. Murmurs punctured through the barrier as well, with vacillation between audible and inaudible ramblings of how far the student had to travel to reach ‘one freaking class.’ Clearly a female, she offered Candance (if unknowingly) information that her car is about empty before she decided to quietly push the door open.
The door, now partially ajar, revealed a small female student decorated in a grey t-shirt and jeans, with a red Marty McFly jacket just about ready to come off – and didn’t thanks to a backpack slung over her shoulder. The student eyes darted about inside to see if she could sneak in, before noticing the rather large amount of breasts occupying a seat near the door. She took a step back and gasped just before letting the door go out of instinct, letting it close gently against the frame as she let out a quiet laugh. She returned to the door and pushed it gently again, opening it enough to let her slide in and take a seat near Candance and letting her bust shield her from the prying eyes of the student body below.

As if sensing a disturbance in the Force, the professor looked up momentarily, without breaking his lecture, just in time to notice the door was closed and the coast was clear of students. He shrugged and returned to his lecture.

“Thank you, Candance,” said the student as she caught her breath and rested a hand upon one of Candance’s breasts. “I managed to get behind you just in time. Oh crap, that was a long run. I’m not doing that again if I can help.”
“Hey, Paulie!” said Candance, patting her on the back as Paulie’s breath turned to a normal rhythm. Paulie coughed, making Candance recoil her hand and hiss briefly. “Good grief, are you okay? You look like you ran a marathon to get here.”
“Something like that,” said Paulie, taking a deep breath for good measure as she sighed with relief. She placed her backpack upon the ground before moving to remove her jacket as cautiously as possible, touching Candance’s breasts only when she couldn’t avoid it. Candance couldn’t help but sigh in response, which made Paulie’s back shiver. “Oh, sorry, I’m trying not to nick your boobs.”

“Like I would be offended,” said Candance with a bubbly laugh and accompanying smile. “What took you so long, anyway? You’re usually among the first people here!”
“You know how traffic is on the freakin’ road leading up here,” said Paulie. She leaned back in her chair and ran a hand through her hair, chuckling briefly as she let her body rest pleasantly against the chair’s resistance. “Walkerman Boulevard alone is a rat race in the morning, like a hellish test of patience from the city’s most depraved planners.”
“Couldn’t you just take the other side like I do?” said Candance, using an index finger to draw a circle in the air. “It’s not like anyone even remembers that bank is back there. It makes for a good spot to get away too!”
“What, is there a small park up there too or something?” said Paulie, a smile on her face as she gave a modest ‘really?’ gesture with one hand. “Not that I’m complaining. If Mistress Gigantatas finds it appealing, I can probably enjoy the leisurely route.”

“It’s only been a few days!” said Candance cheerfully, her laughter becoming infectious as Paulie laughed alongside her. “I only gained a few inches since my biochemical regiment began.”
“Not that most would notice the difference at your size yet,” said Paulie, poking Candance’s side with an elbow. “’A few inches’ now could mean the difference between fitting in a door and remaining in the dorm and taking classes remotely. People would have to fill you in!”
“Not that I would necessarily mind,” said Candance, flipping up the pages of her notepad and handing it over to Paulie. “It’s not like I don’t have that as it is now! Speaking of, here are the notes so far for today’s lecture.”

“Oh, thank you,’ said Paulie as she grabbed and flipped through the notepad with eagerness. “You have such a fondness for old-fashioned methods. Ever thought about getting a tablet for this class?”
“Before long, it’ll be stuck mere inches from my face even if I stand,” said Candance, giving Paulie an elbow to reciprocate. “It’ll be all too easy to convince me to touch more than the tablet!”
“Pfft, you certainly didn’t need much pretense, have you?” said Paulie. “Which page is today’s notes?”
“Oh, tenth page.”

Paulie flipped to the tenth page and gasped as she beheld the lettering before her. It looked curved, as if Candance was trying to make her writing feel as ‘rounded’ as herself.

“Huh,” said Paulie. “I can’t fault you for curves even in your writing.”

Description
College occupies the center of a multi-faceted Venn diagram of human interests. From Sunday to Saturday, collegiate students can work a litany of needs and desires, from sustenance to sleep, with courses of knowledge and entertainment, in every definition of the word. Life for anyone living their college tenure on-campus meant enduring a long string of education broken up with bouts of living it up, however they measured ‘living it up.’

Some students naturally defined it as engaging every point of their lives in their pursuit of knowledge. Others felt the need to use class time as a much-welcome breather from the arduous tasks known only to them. Both types occupied seats of a lecture hall for biochemistry, with half the students focused intently on the professor and blackboard ahead of them. The other half couldn’t decide whether to text, fall asleep, or count the amount of blocks it would take to build the ceiling in Minecraft (each that tried giving oddly disparate answers, whispering sharply as they recounted verbally).
As some students thus pointed up at the ceiling, others sought the knowledge their professor tried to impart. The chemical formula for cellular respiration stood proudly in huge letters upon the blackboard via a computer screen projection, each letter in friendly red letters. To the side stood the professor, gesturing meticulously around a large tomato plant, his voice waning in and out, vacillating between articulate English lecture and Charlie Brown trumpet musings. For the class half-asleep, it meant dreams of an orchestra playing a musical on what happens when plants turn nutrients into ATP.

For the portion of class paying attention, in meant all the more motivation to scribble a few words (of various degrees of legibility) onto notepads, or (for the technologically savvier crowd) typing a few words out onto a processor via laptop. Up in the ‘nose bleed’ section, by one of the doors, Candance decided to partake in the old-fashioned method of hand-written notes. Her massive chest, easily six times her head’s size minimum, rested on the counter in front of her, clothes tactfully protecting the class from a majority of her bosom’s flesh as she feverishly scuttled her hand and pencil across a page half-filled with notes. The sounds of the pencil scratching the surface of the paper didn’t bother her so much as remind her that she still tethered herself to the limitations of wood pulp – not that her smile ever indicated she wanted it any other way. It also felt rather comforting against her flesh-colored wall, protecting her eyes from the chaos in the lower sections of the lecture hall, which had slowed to a rumbling din of moderate interest and sleep.
Around her was the uppermost echelon of seating, with no one so much as seated with a bust’s length of Candance’s ample frame. The hall itself was modestly full, with the majority of students filling the lower rows out of some feigned attempt to look interested in the material – which didn’t help the sleepers much, though the professor’s gesticulations continued undaunted. His tomato plant felt the sting of gravity as it began to lean in one direction, a particularly healthy tomato threatening to leave the vine and make a run for it. A few students chuckled as the professor plucked it and placed it upon the table, making a joke inaudible to the people farthest from him.

The chuckles managed to reach Candance’s section easily, however, which made her stop her note-taking for a few moments. She attempted to adjust her cleavage to see what the (mild) fuss was over. Through the rather small line of sight she managed to create, she noticed only the tomato and a few bits of the professor that managed to remain in view. The view thus only made Candance shrug before she hummed to herself and let her cleavage return to its natural resting state.
It was then that the sounds of furious footsteps penetrated the door, something which Candance could not help but tilt her head to catch. She hummed with a curious tone as the footsteps came closer and louder, like a March hare late for a very important date. The distinctive sound of sneakers squeaking against polished floors caused Candance to raise her brows as she braced herself for the inevitable entrance of a student in a mad dash to enter class.

The footsteps stopped with a magnificent squeak just short of the door, as someone’s heavy breathing continued the cavalcade of noises. Murmurs punctured through the barrier as well, with vacillation between audible and inaudible ramblings of how far the student had to travel to reach ‘one freaking class.’ Clearly a female, she offered Candance (if unknowingly) information that her car is about empty before she decided to quietly push the door open.
The door, now partially ajar, revealed a small female student decorated in a grey t-shirt and jeans, with a red Marty McFly jacket just about ready to come off – and didn’t thanks to a backpack slung over her shoulder. The student eyes darted about inside to see if she could sneak in, before noticing the rather large amount of breasts occupying a seat near the door. She took a step back and gasped just before letting the door go out of instinct, letting it close gently against the frame as she let out a quiet laugh. She returned to the door and pushed it gently again, opening it enough to let her slide in and take a seat near Candance and letting her bust shield her from the prying eyes of the student body below.

As if sensing a disturbance in the Force, the professor looked up momentarily, without breaking his lecture, just in time to notice the door was closed and the coast was clear of students. He shrugged and returned to his lecture.

“Thank you, Candance,” said the student as she caught her breath and rested a hand upon one of Candance’s breasts. “I managed to get behind you just in time. Oh crap, that was a long run. I’m not doing that again if I can help.”
“Hey, Paulie!” said Candance, patting her on the back as Paulie’s breath turned to a normal rhythm. Paulie coughed, making Candance recoil her hand and hiss briefly. “Good grief, are you okay? You look like you ran a marathon to get here.”
“Something like that,” said Paulie, taking a deep breath for good measure as she sighed with relief. She placed her backpack upon the ground before moving to remove her jacket as cautiously as possible, touching Candance’s breasts only when she couldn’t avoid it. Candance couldn’t help but sigh in response, which made Paulie’s back shiver. “Oh, sorry, I’m trying not to nick your boobs.”

“Like I would be offended,” said Candance with a bubbly laugh and accompanying smile. “What took you so long, anyway? You’re usually among the first people here!”
“You know how traffic is on the freakin’ road leading up here,” said Paulie. She leaned back in her chair and ran a hand through her hair, chuckling briefly as she let her body rest pleasantly against the chair’s resistance. “Walkerman Boulevard alone is a rat race in the morning, like a hellish test of patience from the city’s most depraved planners.”
“Couldn’t you just take the other side like I do?” said Candance, using an index finger to draw a circle in the air. “It’s not like anyone even remembers that bank is back there. It makes for a good spot to get away too!”
“What, is there a small park up there too or something?” said Paulie, a smile on her face as she gave a modest ‘really?’ gesture with one hand. “Not that I’m complaining. If Mistress Gigantatas finds it appealing, I can probably enjoy the leisurely route.”

“It’s only been a few days!” said Candance cheerfully, her laughter becoming infectious as Paulie laughed alongside her. “I only gained a few inches since my biochemical regiment began.”
“Not that most would notice the difference at your size yet,” said Paulie, poking Candance’s side with an elbow. “’A few inches’ now could mean the difference between fitting in a door and remaining in the dorm and taking classes remotely. People would have to fill you in!”
“Not that I would necessarily mind,” said Candance, flipping up the pages of her notepad and handing it over to Paulie. “It’s not like I don’t have that as it is now! Speaking of, here are the notes so far for today’s lecture.”

“Oh, thank you,’ said Paulie as she grabbed and flipped through the notepad with eagerness. “You have such a fondness for old-fashioned methods. Ever thought about getting a tablet for this class?”
“Before long, it’ll be stuck mere inches from my face even if I stand,” said Candance, giving Paulie an elbow to reciprocate. “It’ll be all too easy to convince me to touch more than the tablet!”
“Pfft, you certainly didn’t need much pretense, have you?” said Paulie. “Which page is today’s notes?”
“Oh, tenth page.”

Paulie flipped to the tenth page and gasped as she beheld the lettering before her. It looked curved, as if Candance was trying to make her writing feel as ‘rounded’ as herself.

“Huh,” said Paulie. “I can’t fault you for curves even in your writing.”