Chapter 3

The following morning I was woken up by Aunt Linda's voice: "Hey, you sleepy-heads! Time for breakfast!" By the time Bethy, Tyler and I got to the table it was already after 11:00, and by the tousled look of everyone there, no one had gone to church this morning, having preferred to sleep in. The spirited activity of the previous day at Lake Wetauga had taken its toll on everyone... lopsided hair, little crusties in everyone's eyes, and in everyone's face a general look of relaxation from a good night's sleep.

During breakfast, and throughout the day, I kept stealing glances at Carol to see if she would acknowledge our own little activity in the back of Uncle Don's van the night before, but I never managed to make significant eye contact with her. However, after a few minutes at the table I found something to distract me from Carol's eyes.

Uncle Don and Aunt Linda, like my parents, kept a pretty informal family atmosphere. I had been to friends' homes where it seemed like their parents never had any fun, nor did they allow their kids to have any. Meal times were somber occasions and, for me, very uncomfortable whenever I was at their homes. But not here. Aunt Linda was an excellent cook (and so was Uncle Don, for that matter, as I later learned), and she didn't seem as concerned with manners as she did her family enjoying themselves as they ate. So breakfast was an informal affair, what with everybody still in their pajamas or their sleepwear. Bethy and Tyler were in the clothes they arrived in last night, I was still in my cum-stained trunks (I was hoping no one would notice... ), and Tina and Carol were in knee-length night shirts. Uncle Don wore a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts, and Aunt Linda wore silk pajama tops with cut-off sweat pants.

It was here that I discovered a little secret. I stood to reach for a couple of pancakes when Aunt Linda, who had just dropped a couple onto Tyler's plate, said, "I'll get it, John."

"Thanks," I said, and stood there holding my plate out. Aunt Linda leaned over, reaching for the pancakes when I noticed how loosely her pajama top fit her. And when she speared the cakes, I could see the swell of her breast, and how it sort of jiggled whenever she moved.

She plopped a stack of three cakes onto my plate and said, "That OK?"

I hesitated for a moment, darting my eyes away from her chest, and said, "Um... no."

"More? OK." And she leaned back over. I leaned in a little, and a little toward her, a pretense to helping make her work a little less difficult, but actually to afford myself a better view down her top. I got as far as her tan-line, but she stood back up before I got any further. "How's that?" she asked as she plopped two more cakes on top of the others on my plate.

"More," I said. I could feel my heart in my throat. I was keenly aware that anybody might figure out what I was trying to do. And I toyed with the thought of quitting because I could feel the surge of blood through my cock, and then everybody would notice!

"Jeez, you're hungry!" She leaned again, I leaned more. I felt myself raise up on my toes, hoping to get a further downward angle down her jammies. It was the right idea. I leaned in far enough to where I saw the upward tilt of the bottom of her breast, and the downward slope of the top of her breast as they approached each other, but her top wasn't loose enough to allow me a view of her nipple. My mind played connect the dots, and I could imagine what it looked like, exactly right where it was, but she stood up again and dropped two more cakes onto my plate. "I think that's enough, young man," she said sternly. My heart caught in my throat. I was caught! I was certain of it! "You'd better see if you can eat those before I put any more on your plate. I've got to feed everyone else, you know!" I looked down to the stack of 7 pancakes on my plate.