Chapter 2

I'm not sure how long I sat there, naked at the kitchen table, replaying the afternoon's events over and over in my mind. I was trying my damnedest to figure out what I had done to attract Meg to me sexually.

We had been trading verbal barbs for a couple of years now, with me teasing her about her ass getting fat (it wasn't) and her boobs filling out (they most certainly were). She teased me about my graying hair and my flabby midsection, occasionally pointing out the bulge in my pants and calling me a pervert. We had settled in to a comfortable, friendly routine. Meg knew I was safe, that I wasn't going to rat her out to her parents, and that I really liked her as a person. She knew that I wasn't just making nice noises, like an adult talking down to a child.

The afternoon exchange while I was under the picnic table was normal for us in every way, right up to the point where she came back without any underwear. I hadn't been able to think. If I had, I would have run for the house as soon as I saw that bare pussy under her skirt. Yeah, run for the house, locked the door, pulled all the shades, and crawled under the damn bed!

But she blew my concentration so fast, that my 'little head' started thinking for my 'big head.' And what did she mean by that remark that she "belonged to me" now?

I ran out of beer long before I ran out of "what ifs." I noticed it was starting to get dark about the time I noticed that the vinyl seat was starting to hurt my bare ass, and decided I'd better put something on. Usually after I showered in the garage, I wore my towel to the bedroom. I looked dumbly around the kitchen and couldn't remember where I'd left the damn towel.

I winced painfully as I stood up, the vinyl peeling away from my bare butt. I'm sure it left an interesting pattern, but I couldn't stretch around far enough to see. There were no lights on in the house, so I didn't worry too much about dashing quickly through the living room to get something to wear, even though the living room curtains were open.

I slipped into an old pair of sweat pants and a faded T-shirt, running more on autopilot than consciously thinking about what I was doing. I wandered back through the house, closing the curtains and turning on the "evening lights." I found myself in the kitchen, vaguely thinking about dinner and possibly calling out for pizza.

I stepped into the garage to get my money out of my pants and was immediately assaulted by the smell of my work clothes. I hadn't started the washer and the garage definitely reeked. I cleaned out my pockets and fed my grimy clothes into the washing machine. I also returned the shed key to its nail. So much for getting an early start on all my chores!

As I turned back to the kitchen, I saw the two towels on the floor by the shower. Once again the afternoon came rushing back to me. If I had only locked that garage door to the back yard when I came in, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have molested my daughter's best friend--a minor!

Then I started to get mad. 'Just a goddam minute, John!' I thought to myself. 'Who molested who?' Or should that be 'whom?' Fuck it! That's not the point! The point is, I did absolutely nothing to encourage Meg to climb into my shower, naked, and give me a blowjob.

The rest of her words swirled around in my head as I went back into the house: "I belong to you." "... first blowjob. I'll do better next time." "... never see me in a bra again..."

My thoughts were interrupted by the front doorbell. Who could... ? Oh, shit! Meg said she'd bring a plate over for my dinner. That we could have some more fun... Oh, shit, indeed!

A hundred different thoughts raced through my head as I crossed to the front door. If my 'little head' hadn't been thinking so loud, I would have crawled under the bed, like I should have earlier. But Mister B. (as Meg called him) insisted, so I hesitantly flipped the latch and opened the front door.

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I let it out in a whoosh. It wasn't Meg. Oh, Shit!

This was Peg, Meg's mother. At least a thousand other thoughts raced through my mind before I realized that Peg was smiling. Smiling and holding a saran wrap covered plate in her hands.

"Hi, John," she said as she sort of nudged the plate toward me. "Margaret said you were home alone this weekend and wanted to bring you a plate for dinner. It's not much; we were eating rather light this evening. Just a couple of hamburgers and some potato salad... Are you all right?"

"Ye-yeah, Peg," I stammered out, "I'm fine." I had sort of snorted out loud when she mentioned the potato salad. I pointed vaguely over my shoulder. "I was doing some cleaning and... and Meg... er... Margaret had said something about... er... You just surprised me," I finished up lamely. "I was expecting Margaret."

"Margaret wasn't exactly... ah... dressed properly to bring this over, so I told her I would bring it," Peg explained as she brushed by me into the kitchen. "You can eat this whenever you're ready. Just put the burgers on a saucer and heat them up in the microwave. If you're going to wait a while, put it in the fridge. You never can tell about potato salad."

I looked her over as she bustled into and out of the kitchen. You could see that she was Meg's mother. Peg's hair was a little darker than Meg's, but still definitely blonde. Her body had the fullness that maturity and childbirth bring--wider hips and a full bust. Hmmm... a real full bust! Peg was wearing a simple, light blue and white striped, sleeveless housedress--nothing fancy. Her breasts were definitely larger than Meg's, and they were straining the front of her dress, gaping the buttons slightly. I could see the dimpled area on her sides where her heavy-duty bra was straining to hold her boobs in place.

"You can send the plate over tomorrow some time. There's no hurry," she finished as she stopped in front of me.

"Thanks, Peg," I said as I reached around her to give her a quick hug. "I wasn't really looking forward to my own cooking. I was just about to call out for pizza."

The hug was nothing out of the ordinary. I would hug Peg hello and goodbye whenever we got together. Joan usually hugged Greg the same way.

Well, the hug started out as an ordinary hug, but it sure didn't end that way. When I dropped my arms, Peg held on. She seemed to press herself more firmly against me. Her face was right at the juncture of my neck and shoulder and she inhaled deeply, then sighed.

Alarm bells started going off in my head. Time for another heartfelt 'Oh, Shit!' I felt kind of awkward with her standing there like a lump with Peg hanging on me, so I brought my arms back up and ran my hands up her back. I could feel the wide expanse of her heavy bra strap under my hands.

Peg sighed again and slowly moved away from me. My hands rubbed along her side, following the depressions in her side caused by her bra. She gasped and froze, her eyes wide, as my fingertips brushed across the sides of her boobs as she stepped back. Her nostrils flared and she unconsciously licked her lips. Her eyes stared into mine, her focus shifting from eye to eye as I stared into hers.

I think that was the moment that I knew. Something about me was different. Women saw me in a different light than they ever had before. As confused as my thoughts were before, I could now clearly focus on that one single thought. And that thought led me to one inescapable conclusion. As sure as I was standing there, I knew it for a fact.

Peg now "belonged" to me, too!

With a boldness born of my new revelation, I lightly caressed the bottom of her large boobs as I said; "I can see where Margaret gets her lovely breasts. You think her tits will be this big some day?" Peg gasped again as my fingers traced along one of the seams of her bra underneath the thin dress material. She didn't reply, but she did nod in agreement.

I shifted my gaze down to her chest as I hooked a finger in the V-neck of her dress and gently pulled it outward to peer into her cleavage. Her eyes followed mine down to her boobs as she softly stammered, "W-would... would you like to see them?"

I didn't answer her. I just started flipping open the buttons down the front of her dress one by one. When I reached her belt, I grasped her lapels and slowly peeled her dress back off her shoulders. As I eased the dress down her arms, she took a deep breath and seemed to thrust her big boobs out a little more. Her eyes frantically searched mine for approval of what I saw.

Once again, I ran my fingers along the side of Peg's bra where the heavy elastic was digging into her. She lifted her arms away from her side and looked down to see what I was doing. I moved one hand to her chin and lifted her head so that she was staring into my eyes. "Your bra is too tight," I said softly. "It's cutting you in half."

She looked down at her big tits as she ran her hands across the reinforced cups. "It has to be tight," she replied as she looked back up at me. She gave a little smile as she continued to rub her hands across her tits. "I tend to... bounce around... if it isn't tight."

I lifted one of the inch-wide straps off her shoulder and eased it down her arm. "Take it off," was my simple command.

Peg never hesitated. With her eyes still locked on to mine, she made that twisting reach behind her back that women do so well. A moment later, her bra was in her left hand and she was hesitantly, but proudly displaying her lovely breasts to me. They had dropped two or three inches when the bra came off, but they were still fairly firm and stuck out prominently from her chest. Her nipples were hard and stuck out clearly from her large brown aureoles.

"I... I'm sorry. I... I have stretch marks," she stammered as looked down and vaguely fingered the light grooves on the side of one big breast.

"You earned every one of those marks nursing your lovely daughter when she was a baby," I gently replied. "You have beautiful breasts," I continued as I cupped and lifted them for a better look. "I think the marks add character. And besides," I smiled as I let them drop, "I like to see them bounce around."

Evidently I said the right thing, because she smiled and leaned into my waiting hands. Her right hand came up and her fingers toyed with the short hairs at the back of my head. She leaned her head against my chest and sighed again as I gently mauled her big tits. I rubbed the deep red marks on her sides again, then stepped back and pointed to the bra still hanging from her hand. "Leave it off. Get some lighter, looser bras to wear to work."