Chapter 5

Caroline and Joan showed up bright and early the next morning to take Sam home. An orderly wheeled him out to the curb in a wheelchair. Sam was a bit embarrassed at this, but he still did feel strangely weak, so he didn't protest too much.

When they got home his mother installed him on the sofa with a blanket and a pile of pillows to prop him up. Both she and his sister were particularly nice to him all day, fetching him things to read, drinks, and meals on a tray. Sam was pleased to realize how much he really meant to both of them. Not, he thought ruefully, that this kid-glove treatment was likely to last once he was fully recovered.

It was a quiet day. Caroline spent most of the time puttering around the house, doing housework that she'd been putting off for a while, paying bills. Joan stayed home as well, rather than going out with her friends. She helped with the housework, and brought her homework downstairs so that she could keep Sam company while she did it.

"Gina said that she would give me the homework you've missed tomorrow," Joan said. "That way you can get a head start on making it up."

"Don't remind me," Sam said with a groan. "I missed a test last week, and I'll bet Mrs. Gray won't be thrilled at having to make up another one for me."

Joan laughed, and rumpled his hair affectionately. "You just like to complain. Normally you say that algebra is so easy it's boring."

It being a Sunday, the three of them sat on the couch and watched "The X-Files" together. Sam noticed once again how very attractive both his mother and sister were as they sat on either side of him. In fact, they were both unconsciously leaning against him. After a while he put his arms around their shoulders; rather than protesting, they leaned into him, staying that way until the end of the show.

It was even more embarrassing to have the two of them help him up to his room at bedtime, but by the time Sam crawled into bed his legs were trembling. Apparently it would take a little while longer before he was completely recovered.

"Unfortunately, I have to go to work tomorrow," Caroline said, tucking the blanket up to his chin as if he were still a little boy. "And Joan can't miss school. But I talked to Mrs. Severson, and she said she would come over during the day to check on you, and get you lunch."

"I'll be fine," Sam said. "She doesn't need to do that."

"We still don't know what happened," Caroline said firmly, "and she was happy to help. If you're feeling better you can probably go back to school on Tuesday. Now, get some sleep."

She leaned over to kiss him good night. Instead of her usual kiss on the cheek, this time she kissed him warmly on the lips. To his even greater surprise, Joan also leaned over and kissed him.

"Sleep well, squirt," she said, and the two of them left the room.

Sam thought, with a little regret, of Jenny back at the hospital; but he quickly fell asleep even without her assistance.

The next day his mother helped him back down to the couch and made him comfortable before she and Joan left. Sam felt stronger, but still not quite back to his old self, and the faint rumbling in his head was still there, though now he barely noticed it. He looked forward to a rather dull day, but at least he had a good-sized stack of books and magazines to read.

Mrs. Severson showed up at about 11:30 to check on him. Sam was deep into a book by then, but he looked up and put it aside when he heard the scratch of the spare key in the lock and the door opening. Their neighbor was a pleasant woman in her mid-thirties, dark blonde and short with a very curvy figure. Sam rarely found her company very interesting, though his mother was friendly with her and he was always polite. Mrs. Severson's husband was older than her, graying and paunchy, and worked long hours at some mysterious kind of construction. He and Sam had rarely done more than nodded at each other, but Sam knew his wife, Laura, reasonably well.

It was a little embarrassing to have her checking on him, as if he needed a babysitter. But visually at least she was entertaining; Sam had more than once made surreptitious glances at her heavy breasts swaying beneath her dress.

Mrs. Severson started chatting as soon as she came in the door: exclamations over his "accident," comments about how much better he was looking, regrets about how much school he must have missed. Sam tried to answer politely, though the stream of questions and remarks hardly seemed to call for any input from him. She went into the kitchen to check his mother's provisions for lunch, then returned to make sure he was comfortable, tucking the blanket around him more closely.

She was wearing a blue checked dress that fit rather closely, and as she bent over to fuss with the blanket he could very clearly see her tits bobbing with her motions. He shifted his gaze as she looked up at him, but not quickly enough for her to fail to see the direction he had been staring. Sam blushed, but Mrs. Severson only laughed.

"Oooo, you're a naughty boy, aren't you Sam?" she said smilingly.

"I guess I am," Sam said sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"Yes, you should be sorry," she agreed, but with amusement rather than anger. "Looking at my boobs like that. Really, very, very naughty."

Sam was a little surprised at her remark, but not as surprised as he might have been. A part of him seemed to expect her mild reaction.

"Yes, well, you have such nice boobs," he found himself saying. "I can hardly help liking them."

Mrs. Severson seemed to find this even more amusing. "*So* naughty!" she declared. "So, you like looking at my boobs, do you?"

"Yes," Sam agreed.

"I bet you'd like it even more if I took my dress off so you could see them better," she went on.

"Very much," Sam said.

"Well!" Mrs. Severson said, and turned around. "Since you're sick... can you reach the zipper for me?"

Sam unzipped the back of her dress, and Mrs. Severson stood and wriggled out of it. She was wearing a very serviceable white lycra bra, and turned to let him look at her. "Well?" she said challengingly.

"They're very, very nice," Sam said. "But... "

"But what?" she demanded.

"But I'd like it even better if you took your bra off."

"You really are remarkably naughty," Mrs. Severson said. She reached behind her and unhooked the bra, tossing it aside. Her breasts were larger than Jenny's had been, with big dark nipples. She was now wearing only a pair of panties and tennis shoes.