Chapter 10

I ordered the casting kits online, and my mother graciously let me use her credit card. Over the next three days I got asked exactly six times if I’d ordered them.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking my mom knew I ordered them, so I should have only been asked five times. Danny asked me too. Apparently he’d been getting extra good sex, since the night the decision to use the kits had been made.

Yes ... that night.

The thing that made me crazy was that Aunt Christy didn’t act any different toward me than she ever had. I still got the same hugs. Maybe they were a little closer, and a little longer than before, and then there was the way she pushed her pussy against me during the hugs. But that was it. She didn’t flirt with me, or say things with innuendo in them or anything like that. I started to get the idea that, once she’d lived her fantasy, she was satisfied, and that was it.

Danny and Vanessa didn’t act all weird either. They treated each other exactly the same as they always had. There was still a low level of flirting and teasing going on all the time, but that’s all it was ... teasing.

That was fine for them, I suppose, but I was going nuts. I was almost seventeen. I’d just lost my virginity. Not only that, the woman I’d lost it to had begged me to make her pregnant while she was doing it, and she still came around every other day or so. I won’t lie. I wanted to do it again. But she acted like I was her nephew or something! I know ... I am her nephew ... but I didn’t feel like her nephew ... or something.

And it was happening with Tabby too. Every night she came in to kiss me good night. She’d never done that before. All I’d done was get a boner for her and tell her she was gorgeous, and suddenly she liked showing me her boobs, and her ass sometimes, and started kissing me on the lips! It was getting hard to think about her as a sister too.

On top of all that, my birthday was coming up, and the casting kits would be here soon, and I didn’t know how that was going to play out.

I was beginning to learn that, as life goes on, you take steps, and turn corners, and choose paths, and that, once you do that, you can’t turn around and go back. Life just doesn’t work that way. You’re stuck with the situations you get yourself into. I know it sounds like I was feeling sorry for myself, when most guys would have had a permanent smile on their faces. But the fact was, I was horny, and I knew what the “new” way of dealing with it was like, but I didn’t have any way to do that.

I was full of sexual frustration.

As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who was full of sexual frustration. Of course, genius though I was ... I didn’t recognize that.

The kits arrived in a big box, delivered by UPS. You’d have thought, based on the reaction by my sisters and mother, that we’d won that silly clearing house magazine prize or something.

I was actually in Cat’s class when it happened. The class only met twice a week. As a summer school course it went longer each day than the usual classes did. I had decided to fill in my professor about the project after all. Surprising her didn’t seem like the best idea any more, even if that’s what she’d said she wanted. I told her about all the troubles I’d had with my project. She thought it was a lot funnier than I did, but she was enthusiastic about the solution the Turner women had come up with.

“That sounds so very interesting,” she said. “I can’t wait to see the results.”

When I got home, everybody was acting froggy.

Tabby met me at the door, like she’d been waiting for me.

“They’re here!” she squealed. “Remember ... I’m first!”

My mother was baking cookies. I knew she did that sometimes, with an intensity that might have made one think she had a contract with the Girl Scouts or something. When she got in the cookie making mood, she made dozens of dozens of them, usually. A lot went in the freezer, for later. What I didn’t know was that she did that when she got horny.

Randi just pulled me aside, and said: “Well, I guess you get to see my boobs again, Sport.”

I should have known something was up, when Mom asked me if I wanted to get started right away or not. She was talking about Tabby. She had stated more than once, in the past week, that she was going to be there, when the cast of her darling daughter’s breasts was made.

Tabby suddenly had other things she just “had” to do, and she left.

That lasted until Mom took a cardboard box of cookies big enough to hold a microwave oven, and went to make deliveries to her sisters and mother. She hadn’t been gone five minutes when Tabby bounced in the door from wherever she had been.

“I’m ready!” said Tabby.

“We’re supposed to wait for Mom,” I said.

“Oh pooh,” said Tabitha carelessly. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I have to touch you,” I said.

“You’ve seen me,” said my sister. “It’s not that different.”

I knew better, but I was horny. You know how they say things go wrong because a guy is thinking with his little head instead of his big head? I understand that completely, now.

Fifteen minutes later Tabby was standing in her panties, in my room, jumping around and telling me to “Hurry up!“ while I tried to make sure I’d read the instructions well enough not to screw things up. It was hard to read anything, with her pink-tipped breasts right there. She was also wearing those thong panties again.

I unpacked a kit, and everything was there. I picked up the lubricant, opened it, and smeared some on my hands.

Tabby didn’t show any sign of nervousness at all as I advanced on her, my hands outstretched, forming claw-like appendages on the ends of my arms. If anything, she stuck her chest out a little more.

Oh man, oh man, oh man!

Her breasts felt hot under my hands, and soft, but with an underlying firmness that made them so much fun to squeeze. I don’t know if there are any professional belly cast technicians in the world, but if there are, and one of them would have been there, I’m sure it would have only taken twenty or thirty seconds to lubricate the skin on the front of her shoulders, upper chest, breasts, and stomach.

I only stopped after she started acting like she had to pee, dancing around so much that I couldn’t keep my hands on her boobs.

She was breathing so hard that I had to wait, to start applying the strips of plaster-soaked cloth. Thank goodness most of that was done when our very unhappy mother walked in the room.

It was only then that I realized I must have spread lubricant on Tabby’s breasts for half an hour or more.

“What are you two doing?” demanded our mother.

Thankfully, Tabby had calmed down considerably. Most of her upper body was covered, and I was putting on additional strips, building up the cast. I knew I only had a certain amount of time to work with the stuff before it started setting up, so I kept working, smoothing each strip into place with wet, plastery hands.

“I got home and you weren’t here, Mommy,” said Tabitha, her voice calmer than it had been since we started. “I’ve got stuff to do so I told him to go ahead. It goes really quick. We’re almost done.”

I smoothed my hand along Tabby’s belly, and up across the side of her left breast.

“You knew I wanted to be here for this,” said my mother, whose eyes were glued to my hands. “I should ground you both!” She blinked. “And what are you doing in just panties? And particularly those panties?!”

“Mom,” moaned my sister. “I was afraid plaster would get all over my shorts, and these were just the panties I put on today. Don’t be a fuddy duddy! It’s just a cast. It was no big deal. I just closed my eyes and pretended he was Tim Sutton.” She giggled.

“That will be enough of that!“ said our mother. “That’s exactly why I wanted to be here! You’re too young to be having those kinds of thoughts.”

Tabby rolled her eyes and said “Mom, I’ve been having thoughts like that since seventh grade!”

“Not about your brother!” blurted Mom.

Tabby was good, I’ll give her that. “EEEWWW, Mom!”

“Well, you were so intent on having him do this...”

“That’s only because he was nice to me,” said Tabby. “He’ll probably go back to being a turd when this is all over.”

“Don’t call your brother names,” Mom reacted naturally.

“Oh, all right,” said my sister, sounding bored. “How long will this take to dry?” Now she sounded impatient.

I picked up the instructions. “It’s cure, actually, not dry,” I said, using my big head again. My big head is a little pedantic sometimes. I went on to answer her question. “I don’t know,” I said, poring over the instructions. I was looking at the part that was printed in Spanish, and had to search for the English version.

I guess that seeing her darling daughter’s chest covered with wet plaster made Mom feel better, because she left. “Call me when you take the cast off!” she yelled, as she went down the hall.

Tabby leaned forward and kissed me, full on the lips. It was a long, wet, hot kiss, the longest one she’d ever given me.

“Don’t move,” I said shakily, pulling my lips away from hers. I was already hard. I don’t see how Mom missed that, but she did.

“I’m so glad we did this,” she sighed.

“I’m your brother,” I reminded her.

“I don’t care. I love you, and nothing has ever felt so good as your hands on me.”

We did call Mom upstairs, when it was time to peel Tabby out of the cast. It worked perfectly. It was so cool. The outside looked really good, but the inside was incredible. Tabby inspected it so long that Mom had to tell her to cover up.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” she said, instead.

I turned the cast over in my hands. “I’m really kind of glad I did Tabby first,” I said, running my hands over the transition from stomach to breast. “See here? She doesn’t sag down, like some of the others do, and it was easier to put the strips there. I’m glad I got some practice.”

“Are you calling me a saggy old woman?” asked my mother, her voice tight.

I looked at her.

“Of course not. It’s just a technical issue I hadn’t thought about. Now I have. I thought about having everybody lie down, but that won’t work, because the breasts would slide to the sides.”

“You are calling me a saggy old woman!” She sounded upset.

“You don’t have saggy breasts,” I said, still intent on my examination of Tabby’s cast. I was fascinated how I could see detail in the area of the nipples that I couldn’t see on the real, live girl. “I love your breasts,” I said, on autopilot.

“Oh,” she said, a little breathlessly. “So ... are you ... um ... planning on ... helping me too?”

I nodded, my mind only half on what she was saying. I could see that there were places where the edges of the cloth would show on a cast made from the mold. There might have to be some smoothing of the busts, when they were made.

“I suppose it would be easier if there were two people working on it,” she said.

I was excited at the success of Tabby’s cast, and looked up.

“You want to do it now?”

Her eyes fluttered a little. “Let’s wait a bit,” she said. “I need to clean up the kitchen.”

Somehow, cleaning up the kitchen lasted until Randi, who was also going to summer school, was taking three classes, and had been studying the whole time I was fondling Tabby’s breasts, left for class. It lasted until Tabby announced that she was going to Mandy’s house.

“Don’t you dare tell Mandy about the cast!” called out my mother, as Tabby went out the door.

Then my mother washed her hands, wiped them, and with a shaky, breathless kind of voice said: “Okay, I’m ready.”

I had been worked up by all this before the casts got there. Working on Tabby had only increased my level of ... excitement. Thinking about doing my mother’s cast ratcheted things up even more. She wasn’t the only one with an elevated respiration rate. Tabby and I had made the cast in my bedroom. The last time I’d seen my mother’s breasts was in her bedroom. I went to her bedroom, and she followed me. I unpacked another kit.

“What should I do?” she asked, sounding very meek. It reminded me of Aunt Christy, which may be why I spoke in such a commanding tone.

“Take your blouse and pants off,” I said.

“My pants too?”

“We’re working with plaster here,” I said, very businesslike.

I watched her take her clothes off. She watched me ... watching her ... taking her clothes off. She looked at my crotch.

“Don’t feel bad, honey,” she breathed, as she saw my lump.

“I’m kind of used to it, by now,” I said.

She giggled, half hysterically, and stood there in her bra and panties. Her panties puffed out, like Tabby’s.

“Your bra too,” I said, licking my lips.

“Yes, of course,” she said. Her arm disappeared and her bra went slack. She did that beautiful shrug and there they were again.

Giving her instructions seemed to be getting positive results. I knew, from the night with Aunt Christy, that some “commands” would be resisted, so I tried to proceed carefully.

I know you’re thinking I was acting like some kind of predator. That wasn’t it at all. I just loved her, and her breasts, and I wanted to touch them. Touching Tabby’s had been fantastic.

“With Tabby, it worked better when I spread on the lubricant,” I said, trying to make myself sound credible. I looked at her sideways, to see if she was buying it.

Her breathing rate increased immediately. Her nipples, which had been fairly flat, got un-flat before my eyes. I remembered sucking on Christy’s, which was mind-blowing. Mom’s nipples were even bigger, and my mouth watered. I knew, though, that there was no chance of that. At the same time, I really wanted those nipples nice and stiff when I applied the plaster.

“Should I sit down?” she asked.

The only place to sit was her bed, and that made my prick jump all over the place.

“No,” I said, a little quickly. More seemed to be called for, if I was to continue the illusion that I was only doing this for my project. “I want the skin on your abdomen to be as smooth as possible.” I thought I recovered pretty well.

Working on Tabby from the front had been fun, both visually and physically, but it was awkward, because my wrists didn’t bend right to put my hands on her, both high and low. I’d ended up standing beside her, but then I could only reach one side at a time. Well, actually, I could only use one hand at a time, if I stood beside her, and I really liked having both of my hands full of soft boobs. With Mom, I wanted to start with her breasts, but thought that might be rushing things. So I started on her shoulders and upper chest, which was fine, standing in front of her. Her eyes looked at my face, as I slid my hands all over her shoulders, and the skin above her breasts.

She sighed. “Feels good,” she said, a little timidly.

“Kind of like a massage,” I suggested. She nodded.

I squirted more stuff on my left hand and rubbed both hands together. I went around behind her.

“Lift your arms, please,” I said, as professionally as I could.

She did, and I reached around under them, starting on her stomach.

She hissed, and leaned back against me. I stroked her abdomen, my hands going in circles to cover her well. I wasn’t aware there are millions of nerves there, associated with her ovaries, which are connected to her other sexual organs which were currently protected by her panties. I pulled my hands around to do her sides and armpits. She raised her arms without having to be told to.

I took the time to squirt more of the lubricant on my hands and reached around her to finally slide both hands onto her breasts. I cupped them and lifted them slightly. They were heavier than I thought they’d be, and more malleable too. My hands slipped up and over them, and she tried, unsuccessfully to stifle a moan. I felt her nipples bend as my hands smoothed upwards and slid over them. I did circles with my hands then too, all around each breast, loving the feeling of her nipples resisting, and then bending and pushing into her breast flesh.

She leaned against me hard, and her arms lowered, almost trapping my forearms. I kept rubbing. Her butt pressed into my erection, but by then I didn’t care any more. I was in love. Hands full of breasts just can’t be beat.

“Ohhhhh baby,” she moaned. “How long do you have to do this?”

“I just need to make sure everything is covered,” I whispered into her ear.

Her head leaned back, ever so slowly, to rest on my shoulder.

“Please hurry,” she panted. “I don’t think I can take this much longer.”

“Am I hurting you?” I asked.

“Oh mercy no,” she gasped. “You’re making me have terrible thoughts, Pat.”

Her ass ground against my prick.

I couldn’t go on forever, so I finally stopped. I wiped my hands on a towel and started getting the strips ready. She was breathing too hard to start, anyway.

“Did you do that to Tabby?” she asked breathlessly.

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