Copyright © 2002, TooMuchTime. All rights reserved.

Henry felt like an idiot. Here it was, Halloween. All his friends were out egging people's doors, throwing water balloons at cars, and just generally causing trouble -- exactly what every 14 year-old boy SHOULD be doing on this day in a small town... exactly what he should be doing. Instead, thanks to his mom, who had to work an extra shift tonight, he got stuck walking his little sister Trish around for trick-or-treat. It just wasn't fair. He loved his sister and all, and she wasn't nearly as much of a pain in the ass as some 8 year-olds he knew, but still... when was his mother going to understand that he was growing up now, becoming a man, and that he didn't want to be a babysitter any more?

"Let's go down Dogwood Street," Trish said, tugging at his hand. This year, she was a white bunny rabbit. The costume was store-bought, and Henry himself had taken her to go buy it, at the local 5-and-10 shop.

"Why Dogwood?" he asked.

"Because nobody's over there," she said. "Maybe they have more candy."

Henry didn't quite get the logic of this, but he agreed anyway. "Whatever." It seemed to him, if no other kids were on this street, it probably meant there was no candy to be found. But he didn't feel like arguing with her. They'd been out for about an hour now, her bag was getting pretty full, and he could tell she was getting tired. Soon, she'd get cranky. Dogwood Street would take them back to Canal Street, they could make a right, and a few blocks later they could cut up Fairlawn Street and head home.

It turned out he was right. There were no porch lights on at all on Dogwood... and therefore no candy. By the time they reached the small, quiet intersection with Canal, Henry was more convinced than ever that it was time to just go home. He noticed that his shoelace was untied, and told Trish to stand still while he took care of it. As he knelt down, he heard some voices approaching out of the darkness down the street. He recognized them immediately. It was Joe and Eddie and Russ, his friends, laughing it up. Shit, he thought. The last thing he wanted was to put up with ribbing from those guys right now. He'd lied to them the day before, and told them he was going to a party at his cool older cousin's house, two towns over, where he'd probably be playing kissing games with older girls. If they found out what he was really doing, he'd never hear the end of it. Bad enough they always made fun of him for being the shortest one in the pack.

Henry grabbed his little sister's hand and quickly ducked into the bushes in front of a large house on the corner.

"What are you do--" Trish started, but he quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Ssshhh," he whispered. "Just be quiet for a few minutes."

To Trish's credit, she did as she was told. Henry quickly noticed, however, that the streetlight was shining directly on them, and that if his friends passed by close enough, the bushes wouldn't provide much protection at all from being seen. Again, he grabbed his sister's hand and scurried low with her across the small yard in front of the house, this time not stopping until they'd reached the shadowed safety of a narrow alley between the large house and the one next to it. He let go of Trish's hand and peeked around the wall to see what the guys were doing. Thank god, he thought. As he watched, they passed the spot where he'd been tying his shoe, laughing and talking about something, and continued on down Canal Street. When Henry couldn't hear their voices any more, he took a deep breath. That was too close, he thought.

Before this surge of relief had time to settle in, though, he was presented with a whole new dilemma.

Without warning, there was a bright light in front of his eyes. It took them only a few seconds to adjust, but when they did, he realized that he was standing directly in front of a window, and that somebody inside the large house had just turned the light on in that room. Shit, he thought again. Now he was going to get in trouble for lurking outside people's windows. His first instinct was to immediately grab Trish and run again, but a voice inside his head told him to stay calm. So he pushed his back flat against the alley wall, kept very quiet, and waited.

The bottom of the windowsill was about 3 feet off the ground, and fell just about at chest height for Henry, who didn't take long to figure out that he was looking at a bathroom. It was twice the size of the one that he and his mother and sister shared. Along the wall that he had the best view of were wall-to-wall mirrors, which extended from the ceiling down to the sink level. The fixtures on the sink itself, as well as everything in the bathroom, were shiny and fancy. Clearly, whoever lived here had a lot more money than his family did.

Henry didn't have much time to size the room up, though, because the person who'd turned the light on was already walking through the door. It was a woman, about his mother's age, with shoulder-length black hair and very striking features. He guessed she must be Italian, because her complexion was fairly dark and her nose, while almost too big, seemed to suit her face. It was framed nicely by wide brown eyes like a doe's. As for her body, well... that caught his attention immediately. All she wore was a short pink bathrobe, cinched tightly around her thin waist. Stopping at half-thigh, it accentuated not only her toned legs and wide hips, but also the noticeable swell of her chest. This girl looked just as "stacked" as his friend Joe's mother and older sister, both of whom Henry had drooled over countless times in the past. He began to wonder if it was an Italian thing, and if so, he might consider moving to Italy when he got older.

Again, a surge of fear shot through him, and he considered running. But by now, his hormones were beginning to get the better of him. He'd never seen a naked woman in person before, and on the off chance that he might see one now, he didn't see how he could pass up the chance. So once again, he decided to keep very quiet... and wait.

As he watched, the woman turned to face the mirror almost as soon as she entered the room, sparing not even so much as a glance at the window. She turned the water on in the sink, then used a scrunchie to pull her hair back as she presumably waited for it to get warm. Testing the water again, she reached down, splashed some on her face, then began to soap it up with something she had in a jar -- probably Noxema or one of those other smelly things his mom used. He wasn't nearly as interested in this, though, as he was with the fact that as she vigorously scrubbed her face, it set her boobs to jiggling inside her robe, which was as beautiful a sight as he could imagine... and which set his manhood to rising inside his jeans.

After a minute or so of this, the woman rinsed her face off, dried it, then turned and walked to the shower on the other side of the bathroom, still seemingly unaware of his presence outside the window. At this point, Henry could only see her reflection in the mirror... but he could still see her. And when she reached in to turn the water on in the shower, it set his heart to jack-hammering inside his chest. Because if she was taking a shower, it meant she had to take the robe off first, which meant that any minute now...

But then everything suddenly changed. The woman stopped, and looked over her shoulder toward the still-open door with a look of consternation on her face. She reached back into the shower and turned it off, then -- much to Henry's dismay -- left the bathroom, flipping the light off on the way out. Shit, he thought again. I just never get a break.

"Oh well," he muttered. And in that moment of disappointment, Henry suddenly remembered his sister. It was probably just as well that things hadn't gone any further than they did, considering that she was standing right next to him. He spoke quietly into the darkness. "Ready to go, shrimp?" He reached his hand out, thinking he'd feel her head a foot away from him. But there was nothing there. "Trish?" No response. He dared to speak a little louder, he eyes trying to adjust to the darkness in the alleyway. "Trish, where are you?" He made his way slowly and quietly up the alleyway. It was the only way she could have gone, because he'd have noticed her walking past him back out into the yard. "Dammit, Trish, quit playing."

By the time Henry reached the end of the alley, he realized what had happened. Peeking around the wall, he could see the woman ushering Trish into the house through the back door. He back-tracked along the wall to the first window, which looked into the kitchen, and saw the woman squat down to his sister's height and touch her face. Apparently, Trish was crying. Great, he thought. I guess I won't be winning any brother of the year awards this year. Let's see what kind of a shit-fit mom has about this when she finds out.

There was only one thing to do. Henry took a deep breath, then left the alley, walked around to the door, and knocked. The woman answered right away, and as she pushed the storm door open, the first words out of her mouth were, "You must be Brother Henry."

He felt immediately guilty, and thought for sure that it must be showing on his face. It was one thing to peep on somebody through a window, and it was another thing entirely to have to then talk to them face to face a few minutes later. "Yeah, I'm Henry," he said.

"Come on inside," the woman said, smiling. "She hasn't been here long." She had a noticeable accent. Maybe she was not only Italian, but actually from Italy?

Before he was even two steps in the door, Trish rushed up and hugged him. "Where were you?"

"I was right there..." For obvious reasons, he hesitated to say exactly where he was, instead adding, "where we were."

"No you weren't." His sister's voice was getting angry now.

The woman came to Henry's rescue, though. She put her hand on Trish's head. "Now now," she said. "Your brother is here now. That is the important thing, no?" Trish shrugged, letting go of him, and gravitating toward the obvious maternal comfort of the woman instead, who took advantage of the moment to offer his sister some cookies.

"Thanks," Henry said. "But we should be getting home." In the process of making eye contact with the woman, his eyes panned up from Trish's face to the woman's, and along the way, couldn't help but notice that her robe was considerably looser than it had been in the bathroom. Perhaps squatting down had loosened it? In any event, from this angle there was enough of a gap between the folds to show off the side of one breast. He only lingered on the sight a moment, but thought for sure that she would notice. Yet if she did, she didn't seem to react in any way.

Trish, meanwhile, had other priorities. "Why can't I have cookies?"

"Please," the woman said. "I insist. Someone with such a cute kitty cat costume should have some cookies and milk."

"Hey, I'm not a cat, I'm a rabbit!" Trish yelled.

"Oh, I am sorry," the woman said, giggling as she raised a hand to her mouth. "A bunny rabbit, of course! Please excuse me. I may as well almost be blind without my glasses on." Interesting, Henry thought. No wonder she hadn't noticed him standing outside the window, or copping a look at her just now. "So what does big brother say," she asked. "Can the cute bunny rabbit stay and have some cookies?"

"Sure, why not?" Henry said, his eyes this time focusing down directly at her chest as he spoke. When they returned to her face, it was clear that she'd noticed nothing. This is too cool, he thought. He could pretty much stare all he wanted, and she'd never realize. Almost as good as being invisible -- a fantasy he'd had more than once.

The woman poured a glass of milk, then brought it, a plate of cookies, and Trish to the adjoining dining room. Henry watched her all the while, and quickly began to realize that she was even more attractive up close than she'd seemed from outside the bathroom window. Very pretty, and with a seductive wiggle to her step. The way her breasts shifted and settled inside the thin robe with only the slightest motion was almost mesmerizing. And the way her firm round ass looked through the robe when she bent over to put everything on the table... incredible. Without his even realizing it, a fresh new erection had cropped up in his pants, and he wished more than anything that he could reach in and start jacking off right there on the spot. But of course this would be a bad idea. There was no way she could be THAT blind, was there? Still, there was another option...

"Excuse me," he said to the woman, "but could I use your bathroom?"

"Yes, certainly. It's right down that hall. I think the light is still on."

"Oh, I see it. Thanks." Henry made his way down the hall, and felt an odd sense of deja vu as he stepped into the bathroom -- just as he'd watched the woman do ten minutes ago -- and pushed the door shut behind him. The door was old and skewed, and didn't quite click in place or anything, but after giving it the hardest push he could, it seemed to stay put. He did, however, make a point of quickly pulling down the shade, for obvious reasons. After this, he wasted no time. Within seconds, his pants and underwear were down around his ankles and he was sitting on the toilet seat, his skinny legs spread at the knees, his eyes closed, a clear image of the busty Italian woman in his mind, stroking himself for all he was worth.

This went on for about ten minutes, until Henry could tell that he was just on the verge of cumming. He paused, opening his eyes to find the toilet paper or tissues he'd need to use to catch the mess as he made it... and saw something that terrified him. The door to the bathroom was open. Wide open. And the woman was standing in it. With glasses on. Watching him, with kind of an amused expression on her face. "Having fun?" she asked.

Henry's first impulse was to blurt out, "Oh, SHIT!" which he did, and struggled to reach down and pull his pants up as fast as possible. But he was in too much of a rush. The maneuver was clumsy at best, and he only succeeded in falling over onto the floor and nearly banging his head on the sink on the way down.

The woman's first reaction was to raise one hand to her face, shush him, then take another step into the room and re-shut the door behind them. "Quiet," she said. "Your sister is asleep at the table. You'll wake her."

This, of course, immediately confused Henry. What was she talking about? How was the fact that his sister was asleep more important than the fact that he'd just been caught masturbating in a stranger's house? He brought himself to a sitting position on the floor, and again started struggling with his pants, trying to pull them up, his erection wagging around all the while. Again, he fell over.

"Calm down," the woman said. "You are going to hurt yourself. Bang your head or something."

Almost frantic now, Henry tried again to sit up, his hand slipped on a throw rug, and down he went once more. Frustrated, he realized that he'd begun to cry. He felt embarassed, ashamed, guilty, and afraid, and didn't know how to handle those emotions all at once. Dammit no, he thought. Don't cry, not now. But the tears were already there. He'd always been an emotional child, prone to cry for no reason at all, and took some ribbing for it when he was in grade school. He thought he'd outgrown it. Apparently he hadn't yet.

"Oh, now now," the woman said. "It's okay." Her voice was suddenly very close, and as Henry glanced up, he saw that she was squatting beside him. Her hands found his shoulder and she helped him up to a sitting position, propping his back against the wall. Then, to continue the comedy of errors, her foot slipped on the same rug that his hand had a few moments before, and down she came as well... right on top of him. Instinctively, Henry threw up his hands to break her fall -- one caught her arm, and the other caught her stomach. But something short, sweet, and amazing happened as well...

As the woman fell, her chest landed directly on Henry's face. In fact, for all of about ten seconds, as both of them readjusted their weight, her warm breasts pressed and rolled against his face, the satin of her robe whispering smoothly across his skin and the subtle smell of her perfume filling his nose. For Henry, it was perhaps the most profound experience he'd ever had in his life. What's more, several times her hip and leg bumped his erection, which up till that moment had begun to flag a bit. Now, however, it sprang to life again.

"I am sorry," the woman said, finally getting her bearings and taking a seat on the floor, sitting Indian-style in front of him. "I can be so goffa sometimes."