Copyright © 2002, TooMuchTime. All rights reserved.

The winter was particularly harsh the year I turned 15. I mainly remember this because it most often fell on me to shovel the snow off the hundred feet or so of sidewalks that surrounded our corner house with the big yard. My parents were pretty old (I'd been a bit of a conception surprise), each with their own collection of back and joint problems, and my older brother and sister had both already left home and lived several states away. So when it came to manual labor around our house, I was the always the prime candidate.

That year was also memorable for another reason. Because it was the year that my brother Mickey, nearing 30, had finally managed to find himself somebody to marry. My sister, a few years younger than him, had been happily married since the year after she graduated college, but Mickey always seemed to like his freedom a bit too much. So we were all pretty surprised that November to get the news that he was engaged to get hitched in April, and that he'd be bringing his fiancÈe, Rochelle, home with him for a week during Christmas, so we could all get to know her.

As it turned out, that simple Christmas plan would meet with some complications...

When the phone rang, I was in the living room, watching television. Specifically, I was trying to see how much skin and boobs I could take in on Baywatch before my mother finished ironing the laundry down in the basement. It wasn't nearly as good as the Cinemax movies I sometimes caught late at night, when my parents were sound asleep, but for a puberty-enraged boy always looking for his next masturbatory fix, it wasn't bad either. Pam Anderson in a wet bikini was always good for a late-afternoon jerking session in the bathroom before dinner.

The phone rang again. It was 4 days until Christmas, and snow fell steadily outside.

My mother yelled up from the basement. "Benji, can you get that?"

"Yeah, Mom!" Using the remote, I changed channels to the Cartoon Network, just in case my mother happened to come back upstairs again while I was distracted. Then I grabbed the phone, a bit annoyed. "Hello?"

"Hey, Squirt, it's me." Only one person called me Squirt -- my brother.

"Oh, hey Mickey. You still coming in tonight?"

"No, I can't. Snow's even worse here than it is down your way. They declared a state of emergency."

"Shit, really? That sucks."

"Yeah. There's no way I can get a plane out of here. Hopefully, it'll clear up in a day or so."

"I don't know, man. They're saying it's supposed to be this bad all week."

"I know, that's what I'm a afraid of. Anyway, look, I need to let you guys know that Rochelle is still heading your way."

"She is?" I asked. "Why?"

"Just shitty planning. She flew down to her parents' place a few days ago, and she rented a car so that she could meet me at our place. The plan was we'd drop the car off at the airport when we flew out next week. It all made sense on paper at the time."

"Before the blizzard," I said.

"Exactly. Now she's already on the way there. If I'd known I wouldn't be able to get a plane out, I'd have told her to sit tight at her parents'. It's too late now, though."

"No big deal. I'm sure Mom and Dad won't care. They're all psyched to meet her."

"Yeah, she's a sweetheart. You guys will love her."

"Anything is better than Bruce, right?" We shared a hearty laugh at this. Bruce was my sister's husband, and it was generally (and secretly) agreed within the family that he was a grade-A prime asshole. The kind of guy who did everything he could to make the people around him feel like shit and make himself look superior. The first time he met my parents, over dinner, he lectured them about how irresponsible it had been to give birth to me at such a late age, because they'd probably be dead by the time I ever got around to getting married.

"No, she's nothing like that" Mickey said. "I'm telling you, she's a sweetheart. Smart, beautiful, funny. Everybody loves her the second they meet her."

"What's she doing with you then?" I asked.

"Yeah, very funny, Squirt. You just try to remember she's your future sister-in-law, okay?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means treat her nice. And don't go telling her stupid stories about me."

"I'm not making any promises," I said.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, let me talk to Mom or Dad."

"Okay. Later." With this, I carried the cordless phone down into the basement, handed it off to my mother, and went back to watching the red-suited beauties on Baywatch.

Two hours later, Rochelle arrived.

As soon as Rochelle walked through the door, I understood exactly what my brother had meant when he said she was beautiful. She really was. From the second my mother opened the door, Rochelle simply lit up the room. She wasn't very tall, maybe 5'5" or so -- about an inch shorter than me -- but she seemed to carry herself much larger. And by this, I don't mean to say she was heavy. I just mean that she had a bright smile, and that her wide brown eyes, always alert, took in every new room she entered as if it were the Emerald City.

"Come in, come in," my mother said, noticeably excited. "Get out of the cold."

As for Rochelle's weight, it was tricky to tell at first glance. She looked kind of husky in her big winter coat and hat... but then so does everybody. Clearly, she wasn't obese, but beyond that, it was hard to tell.

"Here, let me take your coat," my father said. "Benji, go get the rest of her bags."

As she pulled off her hat, revealing a head of long, wavy brown hair, Rochelle resisted at first. "It's okay," she said, smiling at me. "I can go get it myself. There's only one more."

Dad bristled at this. "Nonsense. Benji's got his shoes on already." True, I thought. But only because ten minutes earlier, I'd finished shoveling the driveway clear in a hurry, so that Rochelle would have a clean place to park. Still, I have to say, I didn't mind the idea of doing something nice for her. It's funny how that is -- we all tend to like doing things for attractive people, even when they're complete strangers.

"I'll go," I said, smiling back stupidly at her.

Rochelle obviously knew a losing battle when she saw one. She handed me the keys.

By the time I came back inside with the bags, Mom was putting the finishing touches on dinner, and Dad was standing with Rochelle in front of the fireplace in the living room. Even with the coat off, with her back to me, I still couldn't tell much more about her body than I'd been able to before. She wore a colorful baggy sweater that extended to mid-thigh, and beneath that, a pair of loose jeans and boots.

My father saw me coming. "Take those into Mickey's room," he said, and I did.

A few minutes later, my mother announced that dinner was ready.

Over pot roast, my father wasted no time in not-so-subtly finding out everything there was to know about our guest. It turned out Rochelle grown up only about an hour away from us, although it had taken she and Mickey going to the same health club three states away for them to finally meet. She had a degree in veterinary medicine, but now made a living as a marketing coordinator for a small retail pet supply chain. She was 27 years old, had no brothers or sisters, and seemed hesitant to talk about her parents for some reason.

And that's about all I remember. The truth is, I'm sure she said a lot more, but I was a bit too preoccupied with mooning at her all through dinner to pay complete attention. Even though I sat directly across from her, I still couldn't quite get a reading on what she might look like under her clothes. She didn't seem to be flat-chested, but the sweater was too baggy and thick to discern much more. I'm not sure why it was so important for me to know. I guess it was just the result of being a horny 15 year old. Anyway, these were the kinds of thoughts going through my head when she suddenly asked me a question.

"So Benji, how do you like school?"

I shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."

"Mickey tells me you're a bit of a genius."

This, of course, provoked a blush. "No, I'm not."

"He scores at the top of the class every time they test him," my mother said, proudly.

Then my father chimed in. "He moved ahead so fast in grade school, they made him skip fifth grade entirely. Just so he wouldn't get bored." One thing I have to say for my parents -- they were ridiculously supportive of me, even my father. Some guys I know, their fathers would be a bit frustrated with a son who had absolutely no interest in sports, but mine, maybe because he was older, knew that having brains was the best way to get ahead in life.

"You must be very proud of him," Rochelle said, which brought even more blood to my face.

"Oh, we are," my mother replied.

My father saw an opening to rib me, and took it. "I just hope he remembers to take his nose out of the books long enough to start dating some pretty girls soon." He winked over at me, just so I'd know he was only teasing.

Rochelle giggled. "Oh, I'm sure he'll have no trouble there. When the time is right."

My face caught on fire at this point, and I was sure that somebody would have to pour a bucket of water on my head to put me out. I smiled as best I could, despite the fact that I was dying of embarrassment, then finished my dinner and excused myself to my bedroom, leaving the rest of them behind to talk about the weather.

I didn't have a television in my room back then, but I did have a computer with an internet connection. So for the next couple of hours, I entertained myself in the usual way -- surfing the Web for nude photos of women that I could masturbate to. I did this, of course, with one ear constantly alert to sounds coming from the hallway. There was no working lock on the door, so if one of my parents decided to walk in and ask me a question or something, as they sometimes did, I needed enough early warning to minimize my browser.

At one point, around 9 o'clock, I thought this might happen. But it turned out to only be my father showing Rochelle to my brother's room. I'd been half expecting this. After all, it was my parents' habit to go to sleep by about 9:30, like clockwork, then get up at the crack of dawn. And this didn't tend to vary even if we had company. Sure enough, a few minutes later, my mother poked her head in.

"Well, we're off to bed," she said.

"Night, Mom."

"Try not to stay up too late," she warned. "There'll be more snow on the walks in the morning."

"I know, Mom."

"And be sure not to make too much noise. Rochelle's right next door." My room and Mickey's old room were adjoined by a shared bathroom with a thin door on either end, which we all knew tended to carry sound from one room to the other like a length of pipe, even when both doors were closed.

"I know, Mom. I'll just be on the computer, not playing music or anything."

"She seems nice, doesn't she?" my mother asked, smiling.

I nodded. "Yeah, she does. Did she go to sleep?"

"I think so. Sounds like she had a long day. Well, good night, Honey."

"Night, Mom." Relieved, I opened my browser window again, and eyed up the hot busty redhead I'd stumbled across after doing a search for "big tits" in Yahoo. Busty Bethany was her name, and she was amazing -- tall, with long legs, a 34DDD chest (according to her bio), and a clear love of lingerie. I couldn't seem to find any nude or even topless photos of her in the free section of her site, though, and this frustrated me a bit. So I spent the next half-hour searching around from one dead end to another, looking for them. Eventually, I did find some on a thumbnail site, and was glad I did. My dick had already been fairly well primed just from the other pics. Now, it created an instant tent in my pajama bottoms at the sight of "Busty Bethany" puckering her red lips at the camera, her hands with long red fingernails cupping those huge tits from beneath, pushing them together, her large nipples pointing out toward the camera.

"I'm guessing that's not homework," a voice said behind me.

I nearly had a heart attack on the spot. I turned quickly, and saw Rochelle standing a few feet away. The bathroom door through which she'd obviously entered stood open a few feet behind her and the light in there was off. If it had been on, I'd have caught the reflection on my monitor. Shit, I thought. Shit, shit, shit. But all I managed to say was, "I -- I --"

Rochelle apparently saw that she'd caused me some distress, and looked immediately sympathetic. "I'm sorry," she said. "That wasn't nice. I should have knocked or something." By now, I'd had time to notice that she was a bit more casually dressed than she'd been earlier. Much more actually. In fact, all she wore was a long blue t-shirt that extended almost to her knees, and perhaps whatever underwear was on beneath it. From her bare calves, I could tell that she was definitely not overweight, and from the way the t-shirt swelled on top, I knew now that she was most definitely not flat-chested. "I just saw your light on, and thought maybe you were in here reading or something."

"I -- I was," I said, trying to salvage the situation. I moused up to the bookmarks list on my browser, and pulled up an interesting site about quantum physics that I'd run across a few days before. "I just clicked on a link in a junk mail I got, and it took me to that other site."

"Oh, I see," she said, with a sly expression. "Yes, I get those sometimes too."

"They suck," I said. "I just wanted to see if I could get off the mailing list."

"And you were looking at that page for so long..."

"Trying to find an e-mail address," I said, knowing how lame I must sound.

Rochelle smiled. "Of course." She stepped closer, standing to the side of me. "And did you find one?"

I shook my head. "No. Just some pictures."

"Not such terrible pictures, though," she said, her tone a bit teasing.

"No," I said, blushing. "They were okay."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking genuinely repentant. "I'm embarrassing you."

I shrugged. "Kind of. A little." I suddenly became aware that from where she was standing, if Rochelle looked down, she could probably see the tent that my raging erection was making. I tried to think of some way to adjust myself, but there really was none. I just leaned forward a bit, and hoped to make it a little less obvious.

"You know, it's not a crime," she said.

"What's not?" I asked, trying to act like I was reading the physics article.

"Looking at nakedness. It's a natural enough thing."

"I know," I said, glancing over at her. "I've looked at some before."

"Well good. Never be ashamed of it."

"I'm not." I tried squirming in the chair, to see if I could make my hard-on tuck back some against my body, but only succeeded in making my condition even more obvious when it got caught up in the folds of the pajama bottoms. What's worse, this seemed to draw Rochelle's attention to it, so that as I sat up straight again, then looked over at her, I could see that she was looking right down into my lap. At this point, the best I could think to do was say, "Um... sorry."

"Don't be," she said. "That's natural too."

"I know, but..."

"Benji, I'm going to tell you something that I'd prefer you didn't share with your mother and father. Mickey knows, but I'd rather not have everybody else know yet. Can you keep a secret?"

"Uh... sure. What is it?" I tried not to be self-conscious of my erection, now that she knew about it and didn't seem to care. But I still managed to feel like a big dopey pervert all the same.

"Well. My parents are nudists. And I was raised a nudist."

"Wow, really? That's cool. I mean... what's that mean exactly?"

She laughed lightly at this. "It means we lived pretty much in the nude. And we lived in a small community where everybody else did too. And during summers, we'd go to special camps and beaches where most everybody there was nude as well. It was just a general part of my life. For my parents, it still is."

"Wow." That must rock, I thought, but didn't say it. "So, why did you stop?"

"Well, it wasn't a big deal where I grew up, but once I went off to college, it became kind of inconvenient. I still go nude at home sometimes, though. Or when I'm at my parents'." This, of course, immediately made Benji wonder even more than he had been already what Rochelle looked like naked. "It threw Mickey off a bit when he visited them for the first time, of course. Especially the first time my mother walked into the room."

I laughed in spite of my awkwardness. "I bet. So does he..."

"Get naked? Mickey?" She giggled. "No. Well... the same times everybody else does, I guess. Showers, that kind of thing. But he won't even sleep naked. Always wears his boxer shorts."

"Yeah, me too. Or pajama bottoms." I looked down, and saw that my dick was still betraying me.

"Anyway," Rochelle said. "I just wanted to let you know that. I thought it might make you feel better about... you know. Me walking in here and everything. Just be aware that I don't shock or offend easily."

"Um. Okay. Thanks."

"I should probably get to bed now," she said.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Well, good night then. See you in the morning." And with a final smile, she padded quietly back to the bathroom door and disappeared. But she didn't close it behind her.

I sat there for another fifteen minutes or so, unsure of what to do, checking my e-mail and actually starting to read the quantum physics article. By that point, my erection had subsided, and I realized that I had to take a leak. So I got up out of my chair and made my way into the bathroom, just as I had a thousand times before. Only when I got there, I found myself in an unusual situation. Because the door into my brother's room was wide open. Not only this, but Rochelle was sitting up in bed, some pillows propped behind her back, no covers on her from the waist up, reading a book. This, of course, would not have been so amazing in and of itself... if not for the fact that she had taken off the long t-shirt she wore earlier, and was sitting there topless.

Now, of course, the mystery of her chest size was settled once and for all. And the verdict was... they were friggin huge! From my online experiences with breast sizes, I concluded that she was easily a D cup. They were perky, round, and quite frankly, the most amazing things I'd ever seen in my life. Of course, since they were the first live tits I was ever seeing, this probably had something to do with that assessment.

As I stood there, staring, Rochelle took notice of me. "Oh, hi Benji."

"Hi, I..." I pointed down to the toilet. "Just have to go."

She giggled, then looked a bit confused. "Good luck with that," she said, and went back to her book.

"I'm, uh... just going to close your door, okay?"

"That's fine," she said, without looking up.

I walked over to the door, took in the sight of her amazing boobs one last time, then pulled it shut. Only then did I realize her crack about needing good luck had been more appropriate than she probably thought. Because by now, I had another raging hard-on, which made it nearly impossible to pee. I had to bend far forward, and still some of it ended up spraying the seat, which I had to wipe down thoroughly with tissues when I was done. Ironically, by that time, my erection had more or less disappeared. Then I went back to the door again, and hesitantly opened it just far enough to poke my face through. Again, there she was... and there THEY were. I had to force myself to look at her face. "Um. Did you want me to leave this open or closed?"

"I prefer open," she said. "But whatever's more comfortable for you."

I thought about this, but only for a second. After all, my own humility and body shame aside, there wasn't really much chance of me passing up the chance to see a topless woman in person. "I guess open is okay."

She smiled at me. "Open it is then."

I pushed the door wide, as it had been before. At this point, I realized that I couldn't quite justify any more staring at her without it becoming obvious. "Okay. Night then," I said.

"Good night, Benji." But before I'd had a chance to completely turn away, Rochelle took a moment to readjust herself on the bed, as if to try and bring her back up straighter. Of course, as they say in physics, for every action in the universe, there is an equal and opposite reaction. And the immediate ripple effect of this particular action was that her tits bobbled and bounced and jiggled as she adjusted her body. It was... quite a thing to see.

When she'd found a new comfort zone, Rochelle saw me still standing there. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No. I, um... was just trying to think of something I wanted to tell you. But I forgot."

"I see," she said, and darted her eyes downward for a moment, then back up again. I glanced down myself, and realized what she'd seen. My dick, which had gone more or less soft during my piss, was suddenly at attention again. Only this time, instead of tenting in my pajama bottoms, it had decided to poke its head out through the hole.

"Shit." I quickly put it away again, as best I could. "Sorry, I..."

"Benji, it's okay. Like I said before, there's no shame in it."

So then why was I blushing so much that I thought my face would explode? I backed out of the doorway. "I should, um, get to bed." Before I manage to embarrass myself any further, I thought.

For the third time, Rochelle bid me a good night.

As I crossed the threshold into my own room, I considered whether or not I should close the door, and on the spur of the moment, decided not to. After all, I knew she had to go to sleep before long, and once she did, there might be a chance that I could sneak into the bathroom and peek at her some more. At the time, of course, the irony of me peeping at a woman who'd made such a pretense of not caring whether I saw her nude didn't occur to me. I lived in a world where women hid their nakedness, and where boys did their best to sneak around and try to see it.

Still, within minutes, the decision to leave the door open came back to bite me in the ass. Because as I lay there in bed, my erection throbbing, I realized that the one thing I wanted to do more than anything else in the world was masturbate. And even though my bed was in the far corner of the room, and therefore didn't give anybody in the bathroom a direct line of sight, I still hesitated to do anything. After all, she'd proven that she could move very quietly earlier. I thought about getting up to close the door, but decided it was too late. She'd already seen me turn the light off a few minutes before, so now it would look obvious if I closed it -- as if I had something to hide. Which, of course, I did. But for some reason, I didn't want her thinking that.

Before long, I saw the light in her own room go out, and realized that my plan to sneak a peek at her while she slept had been ill-conceived as well. After all, if it was dark in her room, there wasn't much to see. I wrestled for a while with the possibility of using a flashlight or something, but a few minutes into that thought process, the day full of shoveling snow finally caught up with me, and I fell asleep.

I awoke early the next morning to the sound of running water and somebody humming quietly. As I rolled over in bed, I pieced together the noises and figured out that Rochelle must be taking a bath. It was a somewhat alien sound to me, because I always took showers myself. I continued to lay there for a while, just listening, until the water eventually stopped running, and I heard the gentle slooshing sound of a body lowering itself into the tub.

"Now what?" I thought, as I stared longingly over at the open door. I suddenly regretted the decision several months ago to move my bed to where it was now. Because if I hadn't done this, I would have had a perfect line of sight as Rochelle stood waiting for the tub to fill -- probably naked -- and I'd probably be able see her now. Still, maybe there was some way...

I rose out of bed, all too aware of my obligatory "morning wood", took off my t-shirt, and walked deliberately over to my dresser, which was right in front of the bathroom door. What I was trying my best to do was act as if this was my normal chain of events in the morning, and that nothing unusual -- like a naked woman in the tub -- was happening in my world. It was just another day. Ho hum. And before I even finished pulling my underwear drawer open, Rochelle saw me.

"Morning, Benji," she said, thereby giving me the opening I needed to look over at her. And oh, what a site. Once again, thanks to the water in the tub, all I could see of her was from the waist up. But this time, I was much closer than I'd been the night before. And this time, her tits were wet and shiny, her large pink nipples erect. What's more, she was smiling sleepily at me, as she casually rubbed some soap onto her arm.

"Oh. Morning. I didn't realize you were in there."

"I'm not in your way, am I?" she asked.

"No, it's okay. I don't usually shower till after I shovel the snow once."

"I guess that makes sense. No reason to take one, then get all sweaty."

"Yeah." I knew that as long as I kept the conversation alive, I had a built-in excuse to keep standing there, watching. "So, did you sleep okay and everything?" I asked.

"Like a rock," she said, as she washed the back of her neck. This, of course, made her tits bobble just above the water, which was a maddening sight for me. "Well," she added. "Except for the one point, when you were snoring so loud that you woke me up."

I blushed. "Really? I'm sorry --"

"I'm just kidding," she said, and laughed. "Mickey, he snores like a moose, but as far as I could tell, I don't think you did at all. Then again, I sleep pretty soundly myself. More often than not, you could play drums in my room and I'd never even notice."

I smiled awkwardly. "Yeah. I'm like that too. Nothing wakes me up." As I stood there, I noticed that my ever-hardening erection was getting perilously close to the hole in my pajama bottoms again. I realized that if I hitched my bottoms up and to the side, I could probably prevent exposure, and maintain my still-obvious but less vulgar "tent". Or, I could be bold, and go the fully vulgar route. I decided to be bold.

As I turned my body, so that it would be facing Rochelle the same way my head already was, this brought my penis into perfect alignment with the hole in my pajama bottoms. It found the opening and popped out with ease. I pretended not to notice the change, but was totally aware of how it must look -- my almost 7 inches jutting out into open air.

Rochelle's eyes found it immediately, but she said nothing, just smirked and looked away again.

"So what are your plans today?" I asked, trying to remain cool in spite of my condition.

"Not sure," she said, still smirking. "Build a snowman maybe?" She reclined her arms against the sides of the tub, giving me -- intentionally or not -- a clear view of her huge, shiny boobs.

"Well, there sure is enough snow for it," I joked. "You could build a whole army."

"That's an idea. Do you think your parents would be offended if I made them all anatomically correct?"

"Heh. I don't know. How would you do that? With carrots?"

"Maybe," she said. "Depends who the model was. In your case, maybe a cucumber." With these words, she made a point of staring directly at my exposed erection.

"What?" I looked down at myself, as if realizing for the first time what was going on. "Oh. I'm --"

Smiling, she said, "Please don't tell me you're sorry again. We've discussed this already, haven't we?" Then, as I made a move as if to shift my pajama bottoms, she said, "And please don't cover it up."

"But..."

"Please?" she asked. "It's not as if I haven't seen it twice already."

"Okay," I said, and tried to look casual standing there, leaning against the door jamb.

"Thank you." Her face brightened. "Really, I don't know what it's going to take to get you to not feel so embarrassed around me all the time. I like to think that after your brother and I get married, there'll be at least ONE person in the family I won't feel obligated to always be dressed around. Your parents are old-fashioned, which I respect, but I thought maybe you were young enough to... you know... understand."

"I do," I said. "Sort of. It's just... different for me, I guess."

Rochelle sat up straighter in the tub, and once again, her tits jiggled. "I know, Benji. It's not easy when you're used to thinking of nudity as being something dirty. I went through the same thing with Mickey at first. He used to walk around..." She gestured to my erection, smirking. "... well, like you are now. At least half the time."