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Fall to Temptation |
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By Dirk Vincento
CHAPTER 11
Bruce waved to Suzanne as he pulled up in front of her apartment building. Standing by the entrance, she looked as bright and fresh as the cool autumn morning that surrounded her. Her long blonde hair fell over the shoulders of her chunky fisherman knit sweater and the crisp air put a rosy glow in her cheeks. She waved back and smiled as she hurried to the car, hopped in and greeted Bruce with a kiss. “Well, good morning,” Bruce said with mock astonishment as their lips parted. “That’s quite a greeting!” “I missed you last night.” “Saving yourself for marriage was your idea. Are you having second thoughts?” “Not at all. I just wanted you to know that I missed you last night. That’s all.” “I missed you too,” Bruce said with genuine sincerity as he drove away from the curb. “I’m really excited about seeing the house,” Suzanne said. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all week.” “I can’t wait for you to see it either,” Bruce said. “I feel like the whole thing won’t be real until you’ve been in it.” “Can we stop by my mother’s house on the way?” Suzanne asked. “Sure,” Bruce said. He could feel the muscles in the back of his neck tighten up. “Why?” “Rachael called this morning and asked if she could come along. I told her it would be okay. I hope you don’t mind?” “No, of course not,” Bruce said, his voice coming out stiff and awkward. “Why would I mind?” “Are you sure?” Suzanne asked, now looking at Bruce and frowning slightly. “Of course I’m sure,” Bruce said defensively. “What’s the problem?” “There’s no problem. You just got this strange expression on your face for a minute.” Suzanne looked down at her hands as they lay in her lap. The diamond ring on her finger sparkled in the morning sun. “It just occurred to me that maybe you wanted to do this together, just the two of us. I’m sorry, I should have asked you first. I wasn’t thinking.” “Honey, I don’t mind if Rachael comes alone. I just hadn’t expected it, that’s all. But it’s fine . . . really.” “You’re sure?” “I’m really sure.” Suzanne smiled, relieved. Bruce made a right turn, heading towards her mother’s house. He had been feeling light and easy this morning, having managed to put last night behind him. But now he felt a heavy weight bearing down on him as the experience seemed much less far away than it had ten minutes ago. The success of option four had already started to look a little shaky. “Just toot the horn. She said she’d be ready,” Suzanne said, as they pulled into the driveway. Bruce hit the horn a couple of times and waited nervously. Within seconds, Rachael came out of the house and walked over to the car. She was wearing a fisherman knit sweater as well, less bulky than Suzanne’s and tighter fitting. It followed the contours of her body, emphasizing the size of her breasts. They swelled out like two huge melons, stretching the ribbing in the sweater’s material to its limit. The sight of Rachael coming toward them and the massiveness of her breasts, accentuated by her sweater’s inability to conceal them, started an involuntary reaction that began in Bruce’s groin and radiated to the farthest reaches of his body, like ripples in a pond. His nervousness had become full blown anxiety. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach beating their wings frantically. Rachael opened the back door and slid into the seat behind them. “Hey, we look like the Bobbsey Twins,” she exclaimed, noticing Suzanne’s sweater. “Not quite,” Suzanne replied, turning in her seat to face Rachael. “I don’t fill mine out quite the way you do.” “They are kind of hard to hide,” Rachael observed, looking down at her chest. “Not that you ever tried,” Suzanne said with a chuckle. “Yeah, but most men don’t seem to mind,” Rachael retorted. “How about you, Bruce? You don’t want me to hide my big boobs, do you?” Rachael leaned forward and rested her bosom on the back of their seat. Bruce turned slowly to face her, stalling while he struggled to maintain his composure and at the same time tried to think of something to say. He had wanted to look Rachael straight in the eye, but try as he might, his gaze was drawn immediately to her chest, which now looked so big and so close. Seeing them like this brought back the reality of the night before with a wallop. His shoulder pressed against her breast as he turned in his seat and the feeling triggered the memory of her enormous tits pressing against his arm as she approached him on the couch. An erotic, tingling sensation started travelling up the back of his neck and down his spine, exploding in his groin. “They look fine to me,” he said, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible. “You see, Suze,” Rachael said, flopping back in her seat. “The men all love ‘em.” Bruce backed out of the driveway and as he drove off, he glanced in his rear view mirror and found Rachael’s eyes staring back at him. Her expression was sultry and suggestive. She gazed at him with alluring bedroom eyes and smiled knowingly. Bruce’s eyes flitted back and forth nervously between the road and the mirror. “So Bruce, how have you been?” Rachael asked. “I haven’t seen you for a while.” Bruce looked in the mirror. Rachael’s eyes were staring back at him devilishly. “I’ve been good,” he said awkwardly. “Real busy.” “You should drop by and say hello sometime,” Rachael teased. “Don’t be a stranger. I’d love to see you.” Bruce tried to watch the road, but he could feel Rachael’s eyes on him, reaching out from the rear view mirror, beckoning him to look up. It was clear that she planned to toy with him, and at this point he felt he had to be careful because she held all the cards. “We’ll have to drop by soon,” he said, reaching across and taking Suzanne’s hand. “If Suzanne’s busy, don’t be afraid to come alone,” Rachael said provocatively. “I’m sure you can find your way.” Bruce could feel the reflection of her eyes piercing through him. He was sure that she had put a slight emphasis on the word come, subtle but noticeable. He looked over at Suzanne, afraid that she might have picked up on the suggestive tone in Rachael’s voice. “Holy shit! You two are going to be brother and sister,” Suzanne exclaimed innocently, letting Bruce know that he was safe for the moment, “ . . . and Mom’s going to have the son she always wanted.” “Brother-in-law, please,” Rachael said indignantly from the back seat. “He’s much too good looking to be my brother. I don’t want to be accuses of incest every time I fantasize about him!” “Don’t let her bother you,” Suzanne reassured Bruce. “She’s just a big tease.” “This is the street,” Bruce said, turning the corner and taking the opportunity to change the subject. “What number is it again?” Suzanne asked, the excitement building in her voice. “One thirty-eight,” Bruce said. “It’s on the right, near the end of this block.” They pulled up in front of a two storey brick house with a FOR SALE sign on the lawn. “It’s beautiful!” Suzanne beamed. “That’s the agent’s car,” Bruce said, gesturing to the sedan parked in front of them. “He must be inside the house already.” They piled out of the car and headed up the walk. Suzanne looked like a little girl at Christmas, her eyes filled with wide-eyed awe and wonderment. “I can’t believe this is going to be ours,” she said. She was looking up at the house, trying to take in every detail all at once. Bruce tried the front door and it was open. “Hello,” he called out as he stepped inside. “Mr. McKenzie,” a voice called back, echoing slightly through the empty rooms. A tall slender man in his mid-fifties appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. “Good morning Mr. McKenzie, it’s good to see you,” he said, shaking Bruce’s hand enthusiastically. “I was just having a quick look around. Everything seems to be ship-shape.” “That’s great,” Bruce said. “This is my fiancee, Suzanne Bonaccord. “Honey, this is Mr. Hayes.” “It’s a pleasure, Miss Bonaccord,” Mr. Hayes said gallantly while shaking Suzanne’s hand politely. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Hayes,” Suzanne replied. “Have we met before?” he asked, still holding Suzanne’s hand. “I work down at Royal Carpet Real Estate on Broad Street. Maybe you’ve been into our office.” “I most certainly have. That must be it,” Mr. Hayes said conclusively. “I never forget a face. Very important in our business!” “And this is Suzanne’s sister,” Bruce continued with the introductions. Mr. Hayes reached between Bruce and Suzanne to shake Rachael’s hand. “Certainly a pleasure, Ms. Bonaccord,” he said, his eyes going directly to Rachael’s enormous chest. “That’s Mrs. Simms,” Rachael corrected. “How wrong of me to presume. My apologies, Mrs. Simms,” said Mr. Hayes, in a tone full of self reproach. His eyes were still locked on Rachael’s bust as he added, “And it certainly is a pleasure.” “Charmed,” Rachael replied, with exaggerated indifference. “So, shall we take the tour,” Bruce interjected, hoping to pull Mr. Hayes’ attention away from Rachael’s mammary protrusions. “Of course,” Mr. Hayes chirped, finally coming up for air. “After all, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” He chuckled foolishly at his own joke and turned to lead the way. The house was old and beautiful, with hardwood floors and mahogany wainscoting in the hallway and dining room. In the living room, a bay window overlooked the garden, its lead-paned glass creating an air of elegance and dignity. Suzanne walked through the house, taking in everything while trying to tune out Mr. Hayes’ never ending sales pitch. She had known enough real estate agents to have heard it all before and also to know that the best way to deal with his tedious monologue was to ignore it. They followed Mr. Hayes upstairs single file, looking like a troupe of boy scouts on an outdoor trek. Suzanne was in front of Rachael and Bruce brought up the rear. As they ascended the stairs, Rachael began to sway her hips from side to side in an exaggerated, provocative motion. Bruce found himself watching the cheeks of her ass as they jiggled and felt an involuntary erection beginning to grow. He forgot himself for a moment and started to enjoy the feeling of pleasure the suggestive motion gave him. Rachael placed a hand on her hip and slid it slowly down the outside of her thigh. The sensuality of the movement caught Bruce’s breath, forcing him to let out a small gasp. He looked away quickly, suddenly realizing where he had let his mind go. He was taken aback by how easily he had been lured in. He tried looking down at his feet and then at the walls, but his eyes eventually returned to Rachael’s hips, drawn by the irresistible promise of the pleasure they gave him. As they swayed from side to side, the motion was rhythmic and hypnotic. Bruce felt a flash of panic as he tried unsuccessfully to tear his eyes away. My God, he thought, we’re just walking up some stairs and she’s only teasing me by wiggling her ass. If I can’t have a little more self control than this, I’m really going to be in trouble. They had almost reached the second floor when Bruce began to play a game in his mind. If he could stop watching Rachael’s ass and hips before they got to the top, then he would be okay. If he couldn’t, well . . . he’d worry about that when the time came. There were only a couple of steps left and Bruce knew that it was now or never. Rachael’s hips were still swinging from side to side in a greatly exaggerated fashion, obviously quite intentionally. Bruce could feel his cock growing hard and sensitive, a sensation that made his skin tingle all over. They were so close to the top of the stairs, but it felt so good. There was so little time, but it looked so incredibly erotic. And then, just as Rachael reached the top step, Bruce decided to look away, just to prove that he could . . . and found that he couldn’t! As Rachael began to turn, he tried to convince himself that it was just a game, that his defeat didn’t really mean anything. But deep inside he knew that he had come face to face with an irresistible force, and at that moment he knew that he had a big problem. Rachael turned to face Bruce as he came up the last couple of steps behind her, replacing the sight of her wiggling hips with her awe inspiring breasts. Bruce’s eyes were drawn to them as obediently as they had been to her ass. He could feel his erection growing in his pants. If she can seduce me with her hips like that, he thought, what chance do I have against those? He looked up at Rachael. She was smiling at him devilishly, as if she could read his mind and was giving him an answer to his question: None! “The upstairs has three bedrooms,” he could hear Mr. Hayes saying, his voice sounding very far away. “There are two bathrooms, one on your left and the other off the master bedroom.” Rachael turned back and followed Mr. Hayes and Suzanne down the hall. Bruce stopped at the top of the stairs, looked down at the bulge in his pants and then went after them. When he entered the master bedroom, Suzanne was already checking out the walk-in closet and en suite bathroom. “This is wonderful,” she said, closing the mirrored sliding closet door behind her. “It’s going to be perfect.” She wrapped her arms around Bruce and gave him a big hug and a kiss. “I love it, darling,” she said. “It’s a beautiful house.” “It’ll be our home” Bruce said, giving her a squeeze. “If you’d like to follow me,” Mr. Hayes cut in, “I’ll show you the finished basement, and that will just about wrap it up.” Suzanne gave Bruce another quick kiss and followed Mr. Hayes out of the room. Rachael started to tag along after them but Bruce grabbed her by the wrist and held her back. “Rachael,” he said quietly. “I need to talk to you for a minute.” “What about?” she asked, her tone was unaffected, but her expression became instantly sultry and suggestive. “About last night,” he said, thinking that he shouldn’t have to tell her. “What about last night?” Rachael asked innocently. He knew that she was toying with him, but he also knew that getting angry wasn’t going to help. “I want to apologize . . . about . . . what went on. I never should have let that happen.” “I’m not sure that I know what you’re talking about,” she said, still looking at him with bedroom eyes. “Last night . . . on the couch . . . when we . . . ” “I remember what happened on the couch,” she interrupted. “I’m just not sure what makes you think that you let it happen.” “I’m just saying that I should have . . . ” “No,” Rachael interrupted again. “There’s nothing you should have done. There’s nothing you could have done. Don’t you understand? You had nothing to say about it. You still don’t.” “Look, I don’t think . . . ” “And that’s probably a good plan. Thinking will only get you in trouble. Now, shouldn’t we head back downstairs before Suzanne starts wondering what we’re doing up here?” Rachael turned and walked out. Bruce could feel his heart pounding, adrenaline and frustration flowing through his veins. That hadn’t gone at all as he’d planned. He knew he had to contain this situation before it got out of hand, but he had no idea what kind of game Rachael was trying to play. She was obviously being manipulative, but at this point Bruce couldn’t figure out if she was simply entertaining herself or if she was actually dangerous. It never occurred to him that she might be both. “Where have you guys been?” Suzanne asked as they all met in the front hall at the bottom of the stairs. “Bruce was just showing me the extra bedrooms,” Rachael answered, “so I could see where I’d be sleeping when you guys invite me to stay over.” “Hey, you’re welcome here anytime,” Suzanne replied. “Don’t forget, you’re going to be married. You’ll have to make sure it’s okay with your husband.” “Bruce will be happy to have you around, won’t you, honey?” “Anytime,” Bruce said resignedly. “Why thank you,” Rachael said, turning to Bruce and giving him a kiss on the cheek. She lingered there for a moment, letting him feel her breasts pressed against his arm. They felt soft and firm, making his balls tingle and his cock spring to life again. He tried to fend off the oncoming erection, but found that the more he fought it, the faster it grew. Bruce had always been in control of every facet of his life, but now Rachael seemed to have taken over the most intimate parts of his body. Like a man trying to arm wrestle a much stronger opponent, he was frustrated by his inability to put up any meaningful resistance. But he was also finding her ability to control his level of sexual arousal irresistibly erotic. She could turn him on at the drop of a hat, and the fact that he couldn’t stop her from doing it turned him on even more. One seemed to feed into the other in an endless cycle from which he could see no escape. “Well,” Mr. Hayes said, “if I’m correct in assuming that your fiancee likes the house, I’ll put in your offer and we’ll see what happens.” “What do you think, Suzanne?” Bruce asked, jumping at the opportunity to focus on something other than Rachael. “Well, I really like it and the price is right, so . . . let’s go for it!” “You heard the word, Mr. Hayes,” Bruce said. “Let’s put in an offer and cross our fingers.” Bruce and Suzanne looked at each other, suddenly feeling as if this made everything they were planning seem that much more real. “We’re getting married,” Suzanne said to Bruce, her eyes wide with amazement, as if the fact had just sunk in. “Yes, we are,” Bruce said back. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Suzanne’s heart was filled with joy. Bruce’s heart was filled with a mixture of apprehension and trepidation.
CHAPTER 12
It was Sunday night and Bruce had been driving around for forty-five minutes, trying to build up his nerve. When he first got in his car, he had been determined to go to see Rachael and confront her. After her behavior Saturday morning, it was clear that this problem was not going to go away by itself, so it was time to take the bull by the horns and bring the situation to an end. Either she was going to use what had happened the other night to break up his engagement to Suzanne or she wasn’t. One way or the other, he had to find out, because he couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. But every time he came to her street, he drove past it, trying to put off the inevitable. He rationalized that he needed the time to collect his thoughts and prepare himself for what could become a difficult confrontation. He had tried to talk to Rachael once already and found that she could be manipulative and slippery. He couldn’t afford to let that happen again. This might be his one chance to straighten things out and he had to get it right. Too much was at stake. As he made another right turn, once again heading towards Rachael’s street, he thought back to Saturday night. He and Suzanne had gone out to celebrate the new house. They had a wonderfully romantic dinner, enjoying a couple of bottles of wine and each other over candlelight. They talked about the house and their future and simply enjoyed being together. When they got back to Suzanne’s apartment, they sat on the couch and cuddled up together. Bruce kissed her lips and her neck sensuously, trying to arouse her, hoping that she would get lost in the moment and forget about putting off sex until they were married. He felt that if he could make love to her now, tonight, it would somehow erase the effect that Rachael had had on him and return them to where they had been before all this had happened. He could feel her body respond to his touch and when she went to speak, for an instant he thought that she was going to suggest that they go into the bedroom. But instead, Suzanne reminded him of their agreement and sent him home, and the opportunity was lost. If only he could have explained how important it was for him to make love to her that night. But how could he? How could he tell her that he had to sleep with her so that he could forget the way her sister had made him feel . . . forget the things she had done to his body and even more, the things she had done to his mind? If only he could have explained that breaking their agreement just this once would solve everything and then they would be okay. But he couldn’t. So he left. Now he was driving around in his car, knowing that the only way to deal with this problem was head on. He had to talk to Rachael and straighten things out. He looked at his watch. Just five more minutes and then he would go. His eyes returned to the road and he saw Rachael’s street coming up at the end of the block. He was going to drive through the intersection (just a couple of more times around the block and then I’ll be ready), but at the last moment his hands spun the wheel and he started down the street toward her house. He parked across the street and turned off the ignition. Rachael’s car was in the driveway, but so was Mrs. Bonaccord’s. He had never considered the possibility that Rachael might not be alone. No matter. If Mrs. Bonaccord was home, he’d just have to invite Rachael out for a drive or for coffee. He was ready and he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready again. It had to be now. He crossed the street and walked up to the house. He rang the bell and waited. The lights were on, which meant that someone was probably home, but part of him still hoped that no one would answer the door. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Then he heard the lock unlatching from the inside and his breath stopped short. The handle turned and the door opened. “Why Bruce, what a surprise,” Mrs. Bonaccord said. “What are you doing here?” She was peeking out, most of her body still hidden by the door. Her eyes were red and she looked like she had been crying. Bruce cleared his throat before he spoke: “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Bonaccord,” he said nervously. He had hoped that Rachael would answer the door and finding Mrs. Bonaccord with tears in her eyes had taken him by surprise. “Actually, I stopped by to talk to Rachael.” “I’m sorry, she’s not here,” Mrs. Bonaccord said, pausing to sniffle. “She went out and I really don’t know when she’ll be back.” “Oh, I saw her car in the driveway and I though she’d be home,” Bruce commented awkwardly. “Some friends came by and picked her up,” Mrs. Bonaccord explained. “She probably won’t be home until late.” They stood for a moment looking at each other, neither of them knowing where to go next. Finally Bruce broke the silence. “Well, like I said, I’m sorry I disturbed you.” “It was no bother,” Mrs. Bonaccord said, her voice quivering. Bruce turned to leave, but changed his mind at the last instance. “Are you alright, Mrs. Bonaccord?” he asked. “I’ll be fine,” she said, unconvincingly. “It’s just . . . ” Bruce looked at her face. She seemed so vulnerable and fragile that he felt an instinctive need to protect her. “Would you like to talk?” he asked. “I could come in for awhile.” “That’s sweet. Thank you, but no. I need to be alone.” “Well . . . goodnight then,” he said, turning to go. “Bruce,” Mrs. Bonaccord suddenly called after him. He stopped and looked back at her. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I just put some on.” “That would be nice,” he answered casually, realizing that reaching out had been hard for her and wanting to make it as easy as possible. Lyla swung the door open for him to enter, for the first time revealing the rest of her body to him. She was wearing a silky, emerald green robe that billowed out over her chest before being pulled snugly around her waist by a matching sash. Her dark hair was cut short, framing her pretty face. Bruce looked at her eyes and then at her enormous bosom, and noticed for the first time how much she looked like Rachael. A little older (although she could easily pass for ten years younger than she really was) and shorter hair, but other than that, the resemblance was quite uncanny. The sight of her breasts, looking so disproportionately large compared to the rest of her body, actually made Bruce blush. Noticing the effect she was having on him, Lyla looked down at the floor, embarrassed. Bruce stepped inside. He felt a twinge of apprehension, being back in this house, returning to the scene of the crime. The last time he had been here, he had gotten himself in trouble. At least with Lyla, he knew that he would be safe. “Let me take your coat,” she offered. Lyla hung up his coat in the closet and led him to the kitchen. He sat down at the table and watched her as she poured their coffee. Unconsciously, he found himself admiring the shape of her ass and hips as they flared out femininely from her waist. Even from this angle, almost directly behind her, he could still see the side of her bosom swelling out past her arm. The fact that he could see any of her breast at all from where he sat underscored the incredible massiveness of her boobs. “Do you take milk or sugar?” she asked. “Just black is fine.” Bruce watched Lyla turn from the counter, his mind storing the flow of her motion in a series of still images. He saw her turned halfway toward him, her chest in silhouette, protruding further and hanging down lower than seemed physically possible. He saw her turned three quarters of the way toward him, her far breast now visible, the two of them looking like a pair of huge melons under her robe. Now she was facing him, her breasts side by side, so big that there seemed to be no way of looking at her without looking at them. As she walked to the table, her bosom moving directly toward him and growing larger with each step, he felt his cheeks flush again. She was carrying a cup of coffee carefully in each hand, her boobs jiggling as she walked. She placed a cup in front of Bruce and sat down. Her tits seemed to be resting on her lap, filling up the entire space between her and the table. The edge of the table pushed into them gently, accentuating their size and their softness. Bruce moved his eyes away as he felt a warm tingling begin in his groin. He’d been down that path once before and it had got him into no end of trouble. He was determined not to let that happen again. He looked at Lyla’s face, thankful that her robe was closed, crossing over just below the base of her neck. The way things had been going lately, he thought to himself, the sight of the cleavage between those two huge tits would be more than he could handle. Lyla was still snuffling lightly. She took a kleenex and wiped her nose. “I guess you can tell that I’ve been crying.” “I noticed that you seemed upset,” Bruce said, trying to sound comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?” Lyla smiled at Bruce sweetly, her heart obviously warmed by his compassion. “I don’t really know where to begin. I guess it started with Rachael. I worry about her. I worry about the people she spends time with. She’s out almost every night and sometimes she doesn’t come home at all.” She stopped and looked at Bruce for support. He nodded his head, showing that he understood her concern. “I tried to tell her that I was worried, that I didn’t want her to get mixed up with a bad crowd. I told her I was only saying it because I cared, but she flew into a rage and screamed that it was none of my business.” She sniffled and wiped her nose again with a kleenex. “Then she yelled at me, telling me that if I had a life of my own, I wouldn’t always be sticking my nose into hers. She said . . . she said . . . ” Lyla’s eyes welled up with tears. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “I’m sorry,” Lyla said between sniffles. “I didn’t mean to cry.” “It’s okay,” Bruce said again. “What did she say?” Lyla managed to gather herself a little and go on. “She said that I was an unhappy old widow . . . and that I was miserable all the time because it’s been so long since . . . since I’ve had a . . . a man.” Bruce sat quietly as Lyla began to cry again, sobbing gently. He rubbed his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry,” Lyla said when her tears finally subsided. “You don’t want to hear all this. Maybe Rachael’s right. Maybe I am just a miserable old woman.” “That’s not true,” Bruce said assertively. “You’re a beautiful woman and a wonderful person. If anything, Rachael was probably being defensive because she knows you’re right.” “Do you really think so?” Lyla asked, smiling weakly. “Yes, I really think so,” Bruce insisted. “Don’t get me wrong. I like Rachael. But from what Suzanne has told me, I think she’s something of a lost soul right now. I don’t think she meant to hurt you. She probably just didn’t like hearing the truth.” “But some of the things she said . . . ” Lyla hesitated, looking for the words. “It hasn’t been easy since my husband died. It hasn’t been easy with . . . men.” She watched Bruce and waited for his reaction, wanting to see whether or not she was making him uncomfortable. She’d been having second thoughts about trying to seduce him and until he turned up unexpectedly at her door, she hadn’t been sure if she would have the nerve to go through with it. But the opportunity had presented itself and she was sure that it must be sign. She knew it wasn’t scientific, but Lyla believed in signs. She looked at Bruce and remembered the bath tub, the image of his head buried deep in the flesh of her enormous breasts. She felt a warm glow descend over her and a wonderfully gentle tingling in her nipples. She still wasn’t sure if she was going to do this for Suzanne or for herself. She only knew that she believed in signs, and that meant that the decision had been made for her. Bruce was looking at her calmly, so she carried on. “My marriage wasn’t good,” she began again. “I was very unhappy. Since Mr. Bonaccord died I haven’t . . . I’ve been afraid, afraid of making the same mistake again. I know all men aren’t bad, but so many of them can be. I’m scared to . . . ” Her eyes began to well up with tears again. “I don’t want to be hurt again. But sometimes . . . sometimes I get so lonely.” She began to cry again, her tears leaving wet trails behind them as they ran down her cheeks. Bruce took her hands and held them, not knowing what to say. Lyla’s body shuddered in irregular spasms as she sobbed. His eyes fell to her chest and he found himself being aroused by the movement of her breasts as they jiggled with each shudder. He felt guilty, knowing that he shouldn’t be staring at her tits at a time like this, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. After a few minutes, Lyla looked up. Her tears were subsiding and her expression was open and fragile. “Would you hold me?” she asked, her voice sounding meek and vulnerable. “It’s been such a long time since anyone’s held me. If you could, it would mean so much.” She was looking at Bruce, her eyes big and wide like a stray kitten looking for a home. He sat immobilized, not knowing what to do. He could still feel a twinge of horniness running through his body and his experience with Rachael was still fresh in his mind. But this situation seemed so different and she seemed so lonely and sincere. How could he say no? He pushed his chair back from the table, making room for her and opened his arms, inviting her to sit on his lap. The minute she stood up and started toward him, he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He could feel goosebumps breaking out all over his flesh as she drew nearer. From a distance, her breasts looked huge, but as she got close to him, the impact of their size took on a whole new dimension. Looking was one thing, but touching them was going to be something else again. He had never held a woman with such a large chest and he wasn’t sure how he was going to put his arms around her without feeling like he was fondling her tits. Lyla sat down on Bruce’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Bruce put one arm around her waist and the other around the underside of her chest, letting the weight of her bosom rest on his forearm. The amount of space her breasts took up was incredible, making them seem even larger than before. The breast closest to him was pressed up against his chest. He could feel its weight and the firmness of its texture. He was already finding the whole experience frighteningly erotic. His cock began to stiffen as he became more and more aroused and he started to worry that Lyla would feel it growing, slowly poking into her ass. He tried to control himself, but holding back only made his erection grow harder and faster. Lyla put her head on Bruce’s shoulder and began to nuzzle up against his neck. He could smell her hair, the scent making him feel sexy and tingly. He could feel the softness of her skin as she rubbed her cheek against his neck. She seemed to have stopped crying and her sobs had been replaced by a soft cooing sound.
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