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Fall to Temptation |
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By Dirk Vincento
CHAPTER 8
Bruce opened his eyes to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He looked up at Rachael, waiting for her to react, waiting for her to feel his panic. She sat on him smiling, his limp cock still inside her. The sound of a car door slamming made him jump. Now he could hear footsteps clicking on the cement walk. Finally Rachael moved, slowly . . . almost casually . . . lifting herself off of him. She reached down and picked up her jeans from the floor and then looked at Bruce’s cock as it lay soft and shrivelled on his lap. “I’d put that away if I were you,” she said indifferently. “I think my mother’s home.” Rachael walked into the kitchen, leaving Bruce to face the music alone. He watched her leave the room in total disbelief, stunned by her cool indifference to the situation. His head snapped toward the front hall as he heard the screen door to the porch open and close. Frantically, he began to stuff himself back into his pants, trying desperately to pull up his fly without catching his skin in the zipper. The sound of the front door opening filled the room. He sat up straight, smoothed his hair and reached for his beer. “Why Bruce, what a pleasant surprise,” Lyla Bonaccord said as she entered the room. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here.” Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but had no idea if any words would come out. “I came by to talk to Rachael,” he said, feeling a sense of relief at the sound of his own voice. “How are you tonight?” His voice wavered slightly as he spoke and he quickly took a sip of his beer, hoping that Mrs. Bonaccord hadn’t noticed. “Well, I’m just fine,” Lyla answered brightly. “Is Suzanne with you?” “No, I came alone. Rachael wanted to talk to me about getting Suzanne to a surprise wedding shower.” Damn, Bruce thought to himself, as he heard the words coming out of his mouth. Rachael had said that there was no wedding shower. She’s going to wonder what the hell I’m talking about! Lyla took off her coat and threw it over the back of a chair. After his experience with Rachael, Bruce couldn’t help but notice the size of Lyla’s breasts as they rose majestically from her chest. You can certainly tell which side of the family Rachael got hers from, he thought. The only difference was that Lyla’s breasts were considerably larger than Rachael’s. She was wearing a cotton dress and her incredibly huge bosom stretched the ribbing in the material to its limit. He had seen breasts that jutted out as far and hung down as low (he couldn’t really think of where . . . but he was sure he must have) but he had never seen a bosom that extended so far in both directions at once. He was amazed to find that in spite of his recent orgasm, the sight of Lyla’s incredible tits was stirring another erection in his pants. He shifted awkwardly in his seat and moved his eyes back to her face quickly, hoping that she didn’t notice he had been staring at her overly ample bustline. “I hadn’t heard anything about a shower,” Lyla said, frowning slightly. “I wonder why she hasn’t told me about it . . . ?” “I just thought about having one this afternoon,” Rachael said, as she entered the room carrying a beer. “I wanted to check with Bruce and see if he’d be willing to help us make it a surprise. Once we decide where we’re going to hold it, I figured having Bruce bring Suzanne would be the best way of getting her there without arousing her suspicions.” “Well, we’ll have it right here, of course,” Lyla exclaimed. “We’ll invite all her friends. It will be lovely!” Bruce’s head moved back and forth between the two women like a man watching a tennis match. He could hear the words, but he couldn’t focus his mind on anything they were saying. Waves of pleasure kept rippling through his body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. And now, with Lyla and Rachael both in the room, the sight of the splendor of their incredible breasts was making goosebumps break out all over his flesh and causing an intense tingling deep in his groin as his erection began to return. “We’ll have to make a list of people to call and pick a date,” Lyla said, now totally absorbed in planning the event. Bruce couldn’t take any more. It seemed like only moments ago he had been sitting in this very spot, his dick hanging out and a beautiful woman riding up and down his shaft, her enormous breasts swinging back and forth teasingly in front of his face. Now he was listening to that same woman talking to her mother about planning a wedding shower for his fiancee! Things were moving too fast, making the situation seem strange and surrealistic. His head was swimming and the only thought he could hold onto was that if he didn’t get out of here soon, he would lose his mind. “There’s really no rush,” Rachael offered, “since they haven’t even set a date for . . . ” “I really should be going,” Bruce blurted out abruptly. He sprang to his feet as though someone had driven a thumbtack into his ass. “Can’t you stay for a coffee?” Lyla asked. “I have some chocolate cake in the kitchen.” “No, I really have to go,” Bruce said, stumbling over his words as he spoke. “I have to meet someone at . . . ” He looked at his watch but found that his mind was so jumbled he couldn’t make any sense out of it, “ . . . soon.” “Well, I’m glad I got home in time to at least say hello and goodbye,” Lyla said, smiling at Bruce sweetly. “It’s always nice to see you.” “I’m glad I got a chance to see you too, Mrs. Bonaccord,” Bruce said. “Lyla, please,” she corrected him. “Call me Lyla. There’s no need to be so formal.” “Its always nice to see you . . . Lyla,” Bruce replied accordingly. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. It was good to see you too, Rachael. Thanks for the beer and let me know what you plan for the shower. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” “Thanks Bruce. I knew I could count on you,” Rachael said, throwing him a wink. Bruce could feel his face flush and immediately turned to leave the room. “Goodnight,” he said, heading for the door. “Night night,” Lyla called after him. “I’ll walk you out,” Rachael said, following him out of the room. Bruce turned at the door to say goodnight and found Rachael standing right in front of him. She backed him up against the door, pressing her breasts into his chest. The pressure from her tits sent a tingling through his body that made his knees go weak. She reached down and placed her hand on his crotch, wrapping her fingers around his balls and his cock. “I’ll talk to you soon,” she said softly, giving his genitals a squeeze. She released him and stepped back. Bruce looked at her silently. Too much had happened to him tonight and all he could feel now was an irresistible compulsion to get out, to flee and run as far and as fast as he could. He opened the door and left, walking to his car on wobbly legs. Rachael watched him go and smiled. Her hand went to her crotch, drawn by the gentle tingling she felt there. “Do you want a coffee?” Lyla called to her from the living room. “Yes please,” Rachael replied. “I’ll be right there.” She lingered at the door, watching Bruce get in his car and drive away, while her hand softly caressed her pussy through her jeans. When he was gone, she turned and headed for the kitchen, savouring the fragrant aroma of coffee as it began to fill the house.
CHAPTER 9
Bruce drove through the evening traffic, his hands and feet directing the car while his mind was a million miles away. Images of Rachael kept flashing before his eyes: her huge breasts swaying provocatively back and forth in front of his face, her hips rotating slowly as she lowered herself down on his cock, the lustful, erotic expression on her face as she drove him helplessly over the edge of orgasm. His heart was still pounding from the close call of almost being caught in the act. If Lyla had arrived a few minutes earlier, he probably wouldn’t have heard the car pull into the driveway. A few minutes before that, someone could have set off a bomb in the middle of the living room and he wouldn’t have noticed. And if Lyla had walked in on them . . . well, that was a scenario too horrible to even consider. He was trying to feel relieved at escaping such an incredible catastrophe so narrowly, but all he could find was anxiety and a slowly dissipating sense of panic. Rachael had rocked his world. It was as if his life had been a finished jigsaw puzzle and she had taken all the pieces apart and mixed them up in the box, forcing him to start putting them back together all over again. Somehow, she had released emotions that he hadn’t known existed. She had awakened urges and yearnings that he had tucked away neatly so long ago that they had been forgotten. She had made him feel like an adolescent whose hormones were raging so fiercely that they were totally out of his control and completely in control of him. He stopped for a red light and watched the pedestrians as they passed by. An attractive blonde, who looked to be in her early twenties, glanced in at him as she walked in front of his car. She smiled invitingly and Bruce smiled back. He suddenly saw her dressed as a high school cheerleader, complete with short skirt and pompoms. She was like every girl he had ever been with in his life; sweet, attractive and harmless. Even her come-hither smile was innocent and safe. She would never unleash the dark, irresistible cravings that he now knew had been lurking in the shadows all along. She would never drive him to the edge of madness, while filling him with overpowering lust and burning passion. He watched her as she walked away and wondered if she was taking all that she seemed to represent with her, leaving him alone in a new, unfamiliar world of irrepressible sexual urges and desires. The light turned green and Bruce started through the intersection. The image of the girl crossing the street dressed as a cheerleader made him think about his high school days, and that brought back the memory of the supply teacher who had filled in for his class one day - a woman whose huge breasts had mesmerized him, compelling him to go home and masturbate that night with the picture of her enormous bosom dominating his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he had thought about her, but the memory of the way she made him feel was now fresh and titillating, making his balls tingle frantically. Her awe inspiring breasts had bewitched him. He remembered the feeling of helplessness as he found himself unable to resist the urge to reach under the covers and take his cock in his own hand; the feeling of helplessness as the image of her immense mammaries pushed him to an incredible climax; the same feeling of helplessness that he had felt with Rachael as she seduced him on her couch that very evening. He could remember how the irrepressible power of those longings had scared him as a teenager, just as Rachael had scared him tonight. Years ago he had managed to push the experience deep into his subconscious and carry on with his life intact. But this time he wasn’t quite so sure he could accomplish the same feat. The monster that Rachael had unleashed seemed much hungrier and much more determined to devour him. He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building and swung his car into its space. He turned off the ignition and sat for a minute, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of his surroundings. Until now he had been so busy considering the emotional impact of his experience with Rachael, that he hadn’t even stopped to think about the real issue at hand: he was engaged to Suzanne and he had just had sex with her sister. He was going to have to deal with this situation one way or another and there seemed to be a limited number of options at his disposal. He began running through the possibilities in his mind: Option one: Tell Suzanne everything. Probably not a good plan, unless he wanted to end up in the Guiness Book of World Records as having had the shortest engagement in history. Option two: Tell Suzanne a watered down version of the truth. Also a bad idea because she would be sure to confront Rachael and then it would be his word against hers. Option three: Don’t tell Suzanne and talk to Rachael, to make sure that she isn’t planning on saying anything herself. This choice has its merits, but being alone with Rachael again could end up making things worse instead of better. Option four: Forget the whole thing and hope the problem goes away. Definitely the most attractive course of action, assuming that Rachael has no plans to spill the beans herself. And there was really no reason to think that she would. In fact, there was a very good chance that it could all turn out to be a one time thing that never need come back to haunt him. Bruce mentally crossed options one through three off his list and got out of the car. He swung the door shut, feeling that somehow he was symbolically shutting the door on the whole incident. All he had to do was go up to his apartment and put the whole thing behind him. He walked into the building and tried to force the image of Rachael out of his mind, only to find that it was replaced by his high school teacher and the memory of her awe inspiring breasts. * * * The red light on Bruce’s answering machine was flashing. He pushed the button and waited. He could hear the tape rewinding, followed by a couple of mechanical clicks, a beep and then the sound of Suzanne’s voice. Hi honey, it’s me. It’s just after nine and I’m still at the office. I’ll probably be another half hour, so there’s not much point in trying to get together tonight. I just thought I’d call so you wouldn’t wait around, but it looks like you’ve gone out anyway. By the time I get home I’ll be going straight to bed, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Hope you’re having fun. Love ya. Bye. The sound of Suzanne hanging up was followed by a few seconds of silence and then another beep. Hi Bruce, it’s Rachael. I just wanted to call to thank you for coming over and to say goodnight. Sweet dreams. At the sound of Rachael’s voice, the hair on Bruce’s arms stood up, his stomach began to flutter and he could feel a wild tingling in his groin. The answering machine clicked a couple of more times before falling silent. Bruce sat staring at it for a long time. Finally, he got up and went to bed, hoping that he would be able to put this night behind him, and also hoping that this time he would be able to resist reaching under the covers.
CHAPTER TEN
Lyla lay stretched out in her tub, enjoying the fragrance of the bath oil and the feel of the hot water and bubbles that surrounded her. She had turned out the lights and set up candles around the edge of the tub, filling the room with a soft, gentle glow. Soothing music played quietly in the background. Lyla Bonaccord was a romantic. But having been without a man for years, she had learned to fulfill her erotic fantasies alone. Even when her husband was alive, there had been virtually no sensuality in their relationship. His idea of foreplay was telling his buddies that he was going home to take his skin, and his idea of making love was to ask Lyla if he could release a little pressure, and then proceed to do exactly that . . . no less, no more. Lyla loved to wear pretty, sexy things and had tried without luck to get him interested in lingerie: What the hell do you want to put that on for. You’re only gonna have to take it off again anyway! And any attempt to get him to satisfy her sexual needs were futile: If I’d wanted to taste that, I’d have gone and got myself a Filet-O-Fish at Mc D’s! Throughout their marriage, the only thing that seemed to really turn her husband on was cheating on his wife - something he did regularly, until the motel where he held the majority of his rendezvous burned down and took him with it. Lyla had tried desperately to feel grief-stricken, but when she looked inside herself, all she could find was a sense of relief and freedom. That was eight years ago and since then many men had asked Lyla out for a date, but she turned down every last one. Once bitten twice shy, as the saying goes. One man had almost ruined her life and now that the Good Lord saw fit to give her another chance, Lyla Bonaccord was not going to make the same mistake again. She didn’t need a man around to enjoy the sexy things she liked to wear, not to mention that now she got to keep them on for as long as she wanted. And there was nothing a man could do to her that felt as good as a nice, long, hot bubble bath. Well, that might not be entirely true, but it had been so long since she had been with a man that at this point it didn’t seem to matter much one way or the other. Lyla moved her hand across the surface of the water, forming small ripples that splashed against her skin. She had always wondered why the water felt hotter when it was moving. It didn’t seem to make any sense to her, but she was sure that there must be some kind of scientific explanation for it. As the gentle waves ran up against the side of her breasts, the heat from the water created a pleasurable sensation that she could feel in her nipples. She looked at her bosom, surrounded by bubbles and floating on the surface of the water, and marveled at its size. She had always been large up top, but now that she was well into her fifties, and not in as good shape as she had been in her younger years, her chest was even bigger. Some of the weight she had put on had gone to her hips and a very little had found its way to her stomach, but the vast majority had ended up in her breasts. In fact, over the last few years, her bust had increased two full cup sizes, going from large to colossal. Her breasts hadn’t grown this much, this fast, since she had been in puberty. Back then they seemed to have appeared overnight, turning her body from that of a girl to a woman in the time it takes for the moon to travel once across the sky. She could still remember the dread she felt at having to go to school with her new boobs protruding out from her chest ostentatiously. She was forever wearing blazers and heavy sweaters, trying desperately to conceal the remarkable proportions of her bosom and praying that she could avoid the teasing and taunting that they would surely bring. Somehow she had survived, but they had been hateful years that formed deep emotional scars. It had taken the next twenty years for her to become comfortable with her breasts and to learn to accept the inevitable attention they drew. She had been concerned for Rachael, who had obviously inherited her breast size from Lyla’s side of the family, fearing that she would be subjected to the same teasing and ridicule from the other children at school. But somehow Rachael had managed to deal with the situation much better, actually gaining strength and a sense of self-esteem from her bosom and the looks it drew. Lyla had learned a lot about becoming comfortable with her own breasts by watching Rachael. In some ways that seemed strange to her, but then, where was it written that a mother couldn’t learn from her daughter. Suzanne, on the other hand, had been spared dealing with the breast issue at all. She had clearly inherited her mammary genes from her father’s side and while certainly not flat chested, her boobs grew to resemble grapefruit more than melons. Lyla had always been amazed at how that genetic thing worked. It seemed incredible that Rachael and Suzanne could both be her offspring and yet come out looking so different. She remembered something from biology class in high school about black and white rabbits making lots of little rabbits . . . some white, some black, some black and white. Were there any grey rabbits? She couldn’t really remember. The whole thing didn’t make much sense to her, but she was sure that some scientist somewhere must have come up with a theory to explain it. Lyla lathered up some soap and spread the soft bubbles over her breasts. The pressure of her hands and the warmth of the water started a gentle tingling sensation that travelled down to her pussy and made it hum. She continued spreading the suds in large circular motions, every once in a while passing her hands over her now slightly erect nipples. She could feel them pulsating, coming to life with erotic electricity each time her fingers touched them. They radiated waves of sexual pleasure, making each of her breasts feel hot and tingly. She gave a shudder as a deep surge flowed through her body, making her shoulders quiver. As her hands continued sliding across the soft, sensitive skin of her huge globes, the feeling in her pussy intensified. She slid down deeper in the tub and let the sweet, sensuous aura envelop her completely. While some women in her position might be desperately trying to diet to take inches off their bustline, Lyla had found that the larger her tits grew, the more sensitive they became. Both her nipples and the creamy, white flesh that surrounded them, seemed to become more and more responsive as her breasts continued to swell to unbelievable proportions. Just the touch of her hand could set her body on fire and start a burning deep in her crotch that would bring her close to a climax. Even the silky feel of lingerie against her tits could make her pussy wet and hot, smoldering with erotic passion. And as long as that was the case, as far as she was concerned they could just keep on growing. She began pressing harder, kneading the soft flesh gently with her hands. Her nipples responded by standing up taller and the tingling in her groin grew stronger. She let out a low, sensuous moan as the pleasure overwhelmed her. As a sweet erotic glow flowed over her body, Lyla considered how ironic it was that her breasts, whose initial appearance she had treated with disdain, had now become the focal point of her sense of her own sexuality. She loved to cover them with bubbles in the tub, massage them with oil and lotion as she lay in bed, and gaze at them lovingly while encased in lacy, sexy lingerie that tried desperately to hold in their incredible mass. She had even come to enjoy and appreciate the involuntary looks and stares that invariably came when she went out in public. She loved to walk through the mall and watch all the young men trying not to be noticed as their eyes were helplessly drawn to her awe inspiring bosom. She would store the images of their wide-eyed expressions of admiration in her mind and then go home and soak in a hot tub, fantasizing about bringing them home and having her way with them. She slid her soapy hand between her breasts and watched it disappear completely in her deep valley of cleavage. She could probably bury a man’s entire head between her tits, she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and imagined how good it would feel, his face pressed into the soft flesh of her enormous globes, trying desperately to gasp for air, trying desperately not to cum from the sheer eroticism of it all! The image in her mind intensified the tingling in her crotch even more, and she purred contentedly. For an instant she was startled when she realized that the man buried deep in her cleavage in her fantasy was Bruce. She wondered where that idea could possibly have come from, and then remembered her conversation with Suzanne and the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Suzanne had asked Rachael to try to seduce Bruce because she wanted to be sure she could trust him. At first the idea had seemed absurd, but the more Lyla thought about it, the more she wished she had put her husband to the test before walking down the aisle. Looking back, she was quite sure that he would have failed miserably and knowing that in advance might have saved her years of misery. But Rachael had said no and Suzanne was left to wonder, which led Lyla to the image of Bruce’s head buried between her enormous breasts. She stopped herself short, telling herself that she couldn’t possibly be considering what she was thinking. At fifty-five years old, was she even up for the task? That question opened up another can of worms. If she tried to seduce Bruce, would she be doing it to answer Suzanne’s question or her own? That was a problem she really didn’t want to contemplate. She was sure that there was some psychologist somewhere that must have a theory to explain it. All she knew for sure was that if Suzanne needed help and Rachael was unwilling to accommodate her, the responsibility fell on her shoulders. After all, she was Suzanne’s mother and it’s a mother’s responsibility to protect her children. Lyla stood up in the tub and took a towel from the rack. She stepped out onto the bath mat and began to dry herself. She ran the towel along the length of her legs and delicately dried the tuft of hair over her pussy. As she reached up and wrapped the towel around her head and began drying her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her breasts hung down ponderously to her navel and yet, despite the effect of gravity, they had managed to maintain the fullness of their shape. Each one of her immense globes was considerably larger than her head. Her aereole were only slightly darker than the color of her breasts, giving her nipples the appearance of standing alone in the middle of acres of creamy, white flesh. As her arms moved back and forth rapidly, tousling her hair dry, her huge orbs swayed back and forth gently while delicate ripples moved across their surface. She dropped her arms to her sides and squeezed her breasts together, forming an incredible line of cleavage more that twelve inches long. Her eyes moved along the dark shadow formed by the deep valley of flesh and she felt herself becoming aroused again. It had been a long time since she had tried to entice a man. The prospect intrigued her and this situation was perfect because Bruce was safe. He was engaged to her daughter and twenty-five years her junior. There was no danger of things going anywhere. No risk of having another man ruin her life. She would just be helping her daughter to ensure her future happiness and, Lyla thought to herself, if she happened to enjoy herself in the process, she couldn’t imagine that there would possibly be any harm in that. And as Suzanne had said herself, Bruce would almost certainly turn out to be a man who could resist temptation, so . . . She slipped a negligee housecoat over her body and pulled it closed, letting the sheer material drape over her mountainous bosom. She loved to look at her breasts, sensuously hidden beneath semi-transparent lingerie. It made her feel sexy and tingly. And now that she had decided what she was going to do, it made her feel even better.
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