|
The Reassigning of Tara Lee |
|
By Margo Perry
Tara stood at her bedroom window, her head tilted back against the frame. The day had been relentlessly hot and, even as the sun blazed its way toward the sea, there was no sign of a breeze. The material of her cotton blouse stuck to her skin, exaggerating the size of her already humongous breasts. She stroked her long neck with one hand and tweaked her rubbery nipple with the other. She could feel it in her pussy. It was so very, very hot!
She used both hands to heft her huge tits, airing the flesh beneath them, loving their weight as she settled them back down past her waist. She loved the sultriness, loved feeling that she was melting in a vat of liquid horniness. She madly fanned herself with both hands. Hopeless. Even in this promising dusk, there was no breeze, only that incessant voice in her head, exciting her passion, whispering, whispering, whispering.
You need his cock. Think about sucking it. Touch your pussy. You know you want to.
Tara sighed deeply, breathing in the salty air.
Stop thinking about a man you can’t have.
She so loved this place. She looked out, past the kidney shaped pool to the ocean, remembering.
“Why do they have a pool when they can go swimming in the ocean?” she’d asked, the first time her mother had brought her here.
“Because they can,” her mother laughed, “and if they like us, they’ll be paying me a lot of money to run this house. So please, just for an hour or so, act like a grown-up instead of the spoiled eight year old you are.”
Jesse and Robyn turned out to be the friendliest, kindest and most beautiful people Tara had ever seen. They reminded her of the movie, Camelot, with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. She and her mother moved in that very day and life became safe and happy. No more midnight visits from the man who made Mama groan in the night, but cry in the morning. No more man claiming Tara as his own, looking at her funny and making her scared. Living in this house had meant a clean break from that past, full of struggle, and a bridge to a new life that gave Tara dance classes, piano lessons and college.
Memories brought the weight of loss. It pressed against her chest and filled her eyes with tears. Mama and Robyn were gone now and with them the laughter. All that seemed left was a zombie version of Jesse and Inez, an ever-present and annoying woman who seemed determined to take her place beside Jesse as lady of the manor. It had been four years now and Tara didn’t know how much more of it, and her, she could take.
Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on her door. She’d promised to help Cook with yet another of Inez’ dinner parties. The woman was so pretentious. On a night like tonight, Robyn would have had them eating Jesse-burgers by the pool. Tara opened the door to find Inez standing there, a black maid’s uniform and white apron over her arm.
“I assume you’re going to help cook tonight. I have eight for dinner and I want everything to run smoothly. Wear this.”
“I am going to help cook, but I’m quite fine dressed the way I am.”
“Oh no you’re not,” Inez said, marching into the room and throwing the uniform onto the bed. She pushed Tara in front of the full length mirror that was mounted on her closet door. “Look at yourself and tell me what you see.”
“I see me, a long-legged brown woman dressed in white sneakers, jeans and peasant blouse - ready for work. And I see you, a white woman dressed in an aqua silk dress with a plunging neckline - ready to party.”
“Oh no, what you see is a slut! Breasts all hanging out. What are you trying to prove?”
Shriek like a banshee, why don’t you?
“My breasts are abnormally large. There’s nothing I can do about that, except cover them and that’s exactly what I’ve done. What’s your problem anyway?”
“Any self respecting woman would have left this house when her mother died. And my problem is that you’re trying to entice Jesse. I see the way he looks at you. Now, put on that uniform and wear this.” She passed Tara a hairnet. “I can’t stand all that hair.”
Slam went the door and she was gone. Tara sat down hard on the bed.
Holy shit! The way Jesse looks at me? Don’t be a fool. The woman may never stay over, but the writing is on the wall. Jesse thinks of you as . . . How does Jesse think of me? Put those ideas out of your head, girl.
Tara decided to wear the uniform because she didn’t want to cause Jesse any grief. She stripped down to her bra and thong. Those long beach walks in the morning had kept her in fabulous shape. She ran her fingers over and around her nipples, until they tingled. “I’ll be back later,” she promised. She was still very, very horny. She’d satisfy herself later. She’d make herself scream. But now, she had to help Cook who seemed tired a lot lately. Tara worried about her. “I’d better hurry,” she chastised herself. She climbed into the maid’s outfit and immediately burst into laughter. The skirt was too big and the top too small. Tara put on the apron and tightened it, accentuating her tiny waist. Her tits looked twice as big as they had in her blouse. Not the effect that Inez wanted, that’s for sure. Tara shoved her mass of curls into the hairnet and, at her makeup table, dashed a film of lip gloss over her pouty, generous lips, admitting to herself that she was very lucky in the looks department. Humming, she left her room, heading for the kitchen.
“Lord, I miss me some Robyn and Lily,” Cook was saying to herself as Tara walked into the kitchen. “Only a lunatic would serve beef stew on a sweltering night like this,” she grumbled, wiping her brow with the towel she kept on her shoulder for just that purpose. “Every door and window in this place open and not a breeze anywhere. A night for a cool salad if ever there was one. She tipped the heavy pot, removed the bay leaves and skimmed off the fat.
“Well, it smells wonderful,” Tara said, “and, anyway, it’s all about Inez’ seduction of Jesse. She wants to serve all his favourites.”
“What she’s trying to serve is herself. On a platter. Pass me that serving bowl.”
Tara took an ornate footed casserole dish from the cupboard. “Will this do?”
“Perfect!” Cook said, reaching for it and seeing Tara for the first time. “Have you lost your mind? What are you wearing? You look like an extra in a movie nobody wants to see. What’s got into you, girl?”
“Never mind what’s gotten into her and forget the casserole dish,” Inez said, appearing suddenly. “I’d like the stew served in individual bowls. There’s no need for people to have to stretch all across my table.”
“Your table is down the road, about a mile and a half, and I wish you’d get back to it,” Cook whispered under her breath.
“I heard that,” Inez snapped. “Your impertinence is getting to be a problem. Things are going to have to change around here. Why didn’t you keep housekeeper on to help you tonight?”
“It’s her daughter’s birthday today. Jesse gave her the day off,” Cook said, and added, her voice lowered, but not low enough, “and it’s none of your damned business anyway.”
“Okay,” Inez said, “enough of the asides. Just hurry up and serve.”
Inez flounced out of the room, her perfectly coiffed grey head moving not a hair. Tara listened to the click of her heels beating a retreat over the tiles before she swished through the swinging door back into the dining room.
The tension around the house was starting to get to Tara. This had been her happy home, at least until breast cancer began ravaging Robyn. How she suffered. And Tara’s Mom was right there suffering with her. Jesse cried a lot and it broke everybody’s heart that what he loved so much was being slowly taken from him. But, even then, the house brimmed over with love. Now, was the problem. It seemed that life itself had stopped to take a breath and had forgotten to begin breathing again. She remembered how excited everybody was when guitar legend Jesse Martin decided to move permanently into his island retreat. Nobody thought he’d stay, but he did. He married Robyn his pregnant back up singer and started teaching his music, fitting into the island’s languid and peaceful lifestyle like he’d been born to it. Within a month, Robyn met her Mom at the local grocery. They fell instantly into great like and became, not only employer and employee, but the best and dearest of friends.
“I want you out of here,” Cook said, spooning soup into the bowls Tara had set up on the tray. “The writing’s on the wall who the next Mrs. Martin is going to be and your mother wouldn’t want you around here taking her crap. You’re a gorgeous one which never hurts. I know this is your home, but what about your dreams of being a journalist? You’ve been an angel helping around here, but it’s your time now. How old are you? Thirty-five and looking ten years younger. And with those ta-tas, the world’s your oyster.”
Cook picked up the tray.
“Put that down. I’ll take it,” Tara said.
“Madam will have something to say about that,” Cook chuckled, “but I am a bit tired.
“Too bad, if she does,” Tara said picking up the tray. Her mother had died six weeks after cancer first took Robyn’s breasts and then her life. She couldn’t stand it if anything happened to Cook.
Tara felt awkward. She’d never served a formal dinner party. She placed the tray on the sideboard and began delivering the stew, one nervous bowl at a time.
“What are you doing?” Jesse asked. He’d been softly noodling on his guitar, but abruptly put it away in the case at his feet. “Why didn’t you just bring the pot? We can serve ourselves. We’re not bloody cripples. And why are you wearing that silly uniform and net on your head?”
“For sanitary purposes, dear,” Inez said. “You know how wild that mop of hers can get. Now run along dear. Let’s keep this moving. We have after dinner plans.”
“This is all so unnecessary,” Jesse said, as Tara rushed from the room.
“I heard that,” Cook said, back in the kitchen. “Life’s not fun around here anymore.”
“You got that right,” Holly said. She had slipped into the kitchen’s side door, dressed in her usual blue jeans and sweat shirt, her blond curls wet from her swim, her blue eyes shining. “What the fuck are you wearing, sister friend? You look like Halloween come early,” she roared. Always the tomboy and talented enough to have won the hit television reality show, Stars of Today, she’d already released her first original songs album and it was doing very well. Tara was so happy that Robyn and her Mom had been alive for the release. Now Holly was hard at work on her second.
“Inez’ edict,” Tara said.
“And you paid attention to her? I think Jesse’s in need of an intervention or resurrection or something.”
“Dad to you, and you won’t be doing any intervening or resurrecting. You just pay attention to your music,” Cook said. “Aren’t you going to sit down for dinner? There’s a place set for you.”
Holly had taken a bottle of wine from the fridge and uncorked it. She took a mighty swig.
“No way. I’m so tired of these buzzards hanging around. And I’m scared. You know Dad hasn’t been himself since Mom died. And when your Mom died, it took the last spark out of him. I know him. Loneliness is getting to him. He’s become so passive. Mom would hate all this. I’m afraid he’s going to marry that silly cow because she wants him to and he’s too depressed to resist. Why can’t he choose someone he likes, marry one of you two. Inez has arranged a bash at that new club down town. I think she’s going to propose, God help us.”
“Have you talked to your father about this?” Cook asked.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t talk anymore. Not really. Not meaningfully. It’s like he’s all tied up and the only one he can share his feelings with is his guitar.”
“Well, somebody’s got to save him and I’m too old, tired and ugly for any such shenanigans. Tara, you could take Inez even in that stupid costume,” Cook laughed.
“She got the titties,” Holly laughed. Jesse’s love for big breasts was legendary. “Don’t look so worried, Tara. I’m just teasing,” Holly said, taking another swig.
“You’re hitting that wine bottle pretty hard, aren’t you missy?” Cook said.
“Not half as hard as I’d like. I can’t stand this. My mom would croak again if she knew what was going down here and dad is permanently miserable. I can’t handle this crowd tonight. I’m going down to the basement and work on some songs. I’ll be up in time for the shindig, but only for Dad’s sake. He really wants me to go. He even bought me a Valentino. You’re coming right? You can’t let a great gown go to waste.”
“No, I haven’t been invited. No gown,” Tara answered.
“Well, you’ve got to come with me so if Inez has any tricks up her sleeve, we’ll just wrestle her to the ground and tear her tongue out before she can propose anything.”
Holly served herself a large bowl of stew, took her wine and left by the same side door. Her parents had fixed that cellar up for her as soon as she showed an interest in music. It was her sanctuary, her private studio.
“Let her go,” Cook said to herself. “That lady misses Robyn and Lily more than she’s willing to let on.”
“I’ll go see if they need anything in the dining room,” Cook said.
“I’ll go,” Tara said.
“No Inez will just try to lead you around by the nose. She knows better than to try it with me. Get yourself something to eat.”
Tara got herself some stew and sat down at the kitchen table. She couldn’t get what Holly had said off her mind, kidding or not, especially after what Inez had spilled.
The way Jesse looks at me?
For the second time that day, she flushed with excitement at the thought of Jesse, at the thought of she and Jesse. And then there was Robyn.
A few weeks before she died, Robyn had felt better. Jesse helped her into her chair and wheeled her out to the terrace. The view was magnificent. Yellow, red and white oleander bushes circled the property and the smell of roses hung in the air. Seagulls squawked overhead and the softest of breezes caressed her cheek.
“I do love it here,” she said.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Tara asked.
“I would. I truly would.”
It had been a long time since Robyn had enjoyed a drink and Tara rushed off to accommodate her. When she returned, Robyn and Jesse were sitting, silently holding hands. She watched them, watched love for a long time, waiting until Robyn turned to look for her before stepping forward.
“You’re one lovely lass,” she said, and I’ll never be able to thank you and your mother for all you’ve done, all you’ve meant to me. I want you both to take care of Jesse and Holly. They’re both alike: outside rock, inside mush.”
“We will and it’s mutual,” Tara said, passing them each a glass. “We couldn’t love you more.”
Robyn reached for Tara’s hand and pulled her down onto the bench, forcing Jesse to move over and give her room. She’d never forget. She was wearing a white scooped-necked T-shirt and white shorts and as she squeezed onto the tiny loveseat, she felt flushed and flustered at the intensity of Jesse’s gaze.
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to marry the girl first,” Robyn had teased and Jesse had been so embarrassed, he’d rushed into the house. After peanuts,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, darling,” Robyn said, “but life isn’t fair. Do you know what first drew Jesse to me?”
Tara just shook her head, too mortified to speak. And what she was mortified about was the way Jesse had made her feel. She’d known since she was about twelve that her huge breasts and otherwise tight frame attracted men. She knew when bus drivers drooled at the sight of her. When the old man in the corner store offered her cookies and treats.
“You only have one body,” her Mother had said. “Treat it with respect or nobody else will. You’re beautiful daughter, and men will swarm around you like mosquitoes. Remember, they can be just as deadly.”
Tara had noticed, but she hadn’t cared, hadn’t felt anything until that day on the bench with Robyn and Jesse.
“What first attracted Jesse were these,” she touched her flat chest tentatively. “Do you remember my glorious breasts?”
“I certainly do,” Tara said. “They’re the toast of the town.”
“Were,” Robyn said, sadly. “I’ll tell you something, if my doctors had been a little more honest about my prognosis, I would have kept them. Given my Jesse the ta-tas he loved for a little longer. He has a real breast fetish,” she said, “so if you catch him gazing at you, be proud, be very proud. I’m so glad you’re here.” Robyn took Tara’s hand again. “I won’t be here long. And your Mom’s getting tired now. So it’ll be up to you to take care of our Jesse. He’s going to be miserable without me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Let’s go in now.”
The sun had set and there was a chill in the air. They met Jesse coming out. Tara’s fingers brushed his, as he took over the handling of the wheelchair, and they both felt something electric and powerful. Powerful enough to force Tara to put the moment entirely out of her mind.
Cook bustled back into the kitchen, chuckling to herself. “They want some more stew,” she said, “and Jesse told me to just bring in the pot. I could put it in the serving dish, but the pot will really annoy Inez.”
Tara laughed, but she was still lost in her own thoughts. A notion was taking shape. She didn’t want Jesse to marry Inez and it was certainly nothing that Robyn would have wanted. But those were only thoughts. What she was feeling was a fire that she had never felt before. The very possibility of seeing that look on Jesse’s face. That look of hunger and desperation, as if he’d do anything, give anything just for a look at them, a feel of them. She thought about the men in her life. So few men. So little passion and lust. Nothing like the flush she’d felt that day and was feeling right now.
“It’ll be up to you to take care of our Jesse.” Robyn’s words sang in her ear. And while the little voice in her head warned that seducing him wasn’t exactly what Robyn had meant, she rationalized that Robyn, and even Holly, would have to appreciate that she’d saved Jesse from the recalcitrant Inez. First things first, Tara said, I’ve got to get his attention and get myself out of this wretched maid’s uniform. She had the weapons of mass seduction. All she needed was time and a strategy. But, how could she make it happen? Desperate times called for desperate measures and whatever she had to do, there would be no engagement tonight.
Only that afternoon, she had made Jesse a very large pitcher of his favourite drink of blended berries, sparkling water and lime. It wasn’t on the menu but, Tara decided, it was time to serve it. She held the door open for Cook and then, with appalling clumsiness, managed to offer Jesse the drink, slip and pour the dark liquid all over them, all before Cook could put the pot back on the stove.
“You idiot,“ Inez shrieked, “You sure aren’t your mother’s child. This one’s all tits and no brains. I have no idea what they taught you up there in college. And to think that the Martin’s paid for it.”
“What we paid for is none of your business and don’t you ever disrespect anyone in this house ever again,” Jesse said, slamming his fist on the table.
Tara could hear Inez clucking in the background and it amused her. “I’m so sorry,” she said, grabbing a napkin and rubbing it over Jesse’s chest and down over his lap. She could feel her large spongy breasts pressing into his arm. She noticed his inability to move away. The ugly uniform was working nicely. She watched him ogling her tits and felt proud. “We’ve got to get out of these clothes,” she whispered too close to his ear.
“Yes, please excuse us,“ Jesse said, laughing, “and help yourselves to what’s left of the drink. It’s non-alcoholic and really quite refreshing.”
“Hurry,” Inez said. “We don’t want to be late.”
Tara waved, without looking around, as they headed for the stairs.
Her bedroom was on the third floor, Jesse’s on the second. She followed him up the first flight but, instead of continuing down the hall to his room, Jesse suddenly turned and Tara fell into him.
“God help me,” he said, grabbing onto her.
Tara didn’t think or resist when he pressed her against the wall, his eyes blazing and his hands smoothing, grasping and kneading her enormous breasts.
“So hungry. So lonely,” he gasped.
His mouth exploded onto her, bruising her lips before choking her with his tongue.
“Come,” she said, taking his hand and leading him up the final flight.
Desperate lust isn’t pretty. Clothes flew everywhere.
“Stop,” he said, when she was down to her pink bra and panties. “Let me look,” he begged.
“Then sit,” Tara ordered.
Jesse sat on the edge of her bed. Tara began to hum as she swayed her breasts close to his face. He was naked and vulnerable and his long, hard cock was twitching with impatient longing.
“You’ve been looking at these for a long time,” she said, hefting her breasts. She squeezed them together and her cleavage grew deeper and longer.
“I can’t help myself,” he said, rubbing his cock.
“Do you know how much that turns me on? Watching you play with your cock, you naughty boy? This much.”
Tara reached between her legs. She was dripping wet and her pussy was throbbing with lust. She walked in front of him and sank to her knees, reaching up and running her fingers under his nose.
“Pussy juice,” Jesse said. “Give me more pussy juice.”
Tara did before rubbing her breasts all over his thighs, almost up to his cock.
“I got to have you Jesse. I’ve waited for so long.”
She took off her panties and slowly reached behind herself to undo her bra. She took her time exposing her gargantuan breasts, inch by creamy, spongy inch. And then she sat on his cock, pressing her breast flesh between them. Easing up and down. Rotating her hips in circular motions. 6-9-6. She felt his tension.
“There’s so much more that my lips and pussy have to tell you, but you’ll have to wait. You have guests.”
And all the while she talked she moved faster, tweaking his nipples, kissing his earlobes. Jesse began shaking his head like a wet poodle, like the pleasure was too much to bear.
“Can I come,” he asked?
“No,” she said, squeezing her pussy muscles, reaching back to finger his balls.
“Please,” he begged, his eyes full of passionate tears.
“No,” she whispered again as he shot and shot and oozed warm come into her waiting pussy.
They collapsed back on her bed and lay there, tangled and happy.
“We’ve got to get downstairs,” Tara said.
Jesse just grinned.
“Earth to Jesse, we’ve got to go.”
“Just one thing,” Jesse said, running his hands over her tummy. “Is this real?”
“As real as you want it to be,” Tara said.
“I want it to be,” he said. “Come to the party with us,” he said.
“I have nothing to wear.”
“But, you do. Look in your closet. I picked up a gown for you and one for Holly. Enjoy. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
Tara lay on the bed. She was happy just watching him dress. The voice in her head was triumphant.
That’s my man leaving.
She had dressed and was preening when she heard the gentle knock on her door.
“Can I come in?” Cook asked.
“Certainly.”
Cook took one look at her in her Valentino gown and folded her in her arms.
“Lord, Lord,” she said. “Gonna’ be some fireworks tonight. Inez is downstairs showing off the ring she bought for Jesse to give her and here you are blushing and beaming like the used to be virgin bride. Oh Lord, Lord, there’s gonna’ be some fireworks tonight!”
|