Chapter 1

Otis Hobbs looked at his phone.

Come on over. Just go to the back door. Nichole will let you in. I just barely finished cutting grass before it got dark, but I’ll be down as soon as I get cleaned up.

He was looking forward to making a fresh start in a new house. It had taken six months to finalize a messy divorce. Then another three to find a house, close on it, and move in. His daughter Susie was with him this weekend to help with the move, although that had caused a major argument with his ex. It wasn’t the weekend he was supposed to have custody, and that made the ex mad. Then she had already made plans to go out of town the following weekend, and it was too expensive to get Susie a plane ticket at the last minute. That had made her even madder. It was petty, but he had to agree to give up three weekends because he got to see Susie two in a row. It had only made his ex madder when he pointed out that would mean he would go a month and a half without seeing his daughter. Still, the prospect of going through all the boxes alone had been daunting so he had agreed. He had told his daughter that she could take a break while he relaxed from a hard day’s work by meeting a next door neighbor. However, he guessed he would find a few more boxes unpacked by the time he got home.

Only a purple glow remained from the setting sun as Otis opened the gate and walked through his neighbor’s yard, past a swing set, to the back door and knocked. A pretty young lady, tall and very busty let him in. She was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top. Otis was trying to ignore the fact that the woman who let him in was most definitely not wearing a bra. It was extremely difficult, considering the size of her bust, to maintain eye contact and not leer at her tits. Just being in the presence of such a rack was making his heart race; it had been so long since he had gotten his hands on any sort of tits, and he had never been with anyone as well endowed as this woman. “You must be Nichole,” Otis stated. “It was so nice of your husband to invite me over,” while at the same time hoping his appreciation of his hostess figure had gone unnoticed.

“You got a text from Edgar Young?” When Otis nodded in reply to her query, the young lady explained, “That’s not my husband, that’s my father.” Then she chuckled a bit. Otis tried to apologize, but Nichole cut him off, “It’s the big mommy milkers; they make me look older than I am. It’s not the first time I’ve been mistaken for my mother.”

“How old are you?” Otis blurted out before realizing that might be construed as rude.

“Seventeen.”

“Is your mother here? I could introduce myself to her,” Otis was clearly desperate to get out of the embarrassing situation he found himself in. His face felt hot, and he was sure he was blushing. It didn’t help matters that his eyes had darter down to the teen’s, as she described them, big mommy milkers after her comment. Those big tits made him feel hot below the belt as well.

“No, my parents are divorced.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Um, that’s actually why I moved; I recently split from my wife. Anyway, I have to apologize again for mistaking a seventeen year old for a housewife.”

Nichole was unfazed, “I keep telling you it’s OK; I might as well be a housewife. Dad made me start doing the grocery shopping once I got my license, and he hates to cook, so I’ve been doing that since I was twelve. I blame all the fast food I ate before then for my thiccness now.”

Otis took a closer look at the teen. Her hips were wide, attached to thick, sexy thighs, and it seemed like she had a bit of a belly. However, Otis would never have called her fat. Nichole was pretty and had sun streaked blonde hair, but her big boobs drew most of his attention. He opened his mouth to apologize again, when Nichole cut him off.

“I keep telling you it’s OK.” Sensing where his eyes had come to rest, she teased, “Maybe this will convince you.” She put one hand in her top to tug on a boob while pulling her clothing down with the other. Otis watched in amazement as one of Nichole’s huge boobs came into view. His jaw dropped and he was stunned into silence. He could see the tan lines from her swimsuit, and her large nipples and wide areola fit the size of her big tits. “Well, say something,” Nichole prodded him.

“That is one mighty impressive melon,” Otis finally stammered. The heat he felt on his face had doubled, and the heat he felt in his loins more than doubled. It had been over a year since he had seen a bare breast, and it made him ache with desire for the teen who had so boldly exposed herself. “Can I touch it?” came off his tongue before he even realized what he was saying.

Before he could try to laugh the request off as a joke, Nichole replied, “Sure, as long as you’re gentle.”