|
Harriet Sets the Rules - Part 2 |
|
By Nigel McParr
The following Friday evening, Harriet was in a quiet corner booth of the Silver Dollar Grill sipping a brandy Manhattan and waiting for her daughters to arrive. In the spirit of Christmas, she’d put on a red chiffon blouse with a satin bow tied at the neckline, gray woolen pants, and her best pair of leather boots. She’d even done something she rarely did; she left work early and had her hair done. Her hairdresser had done a masterful job with her dark hair, sweeping it up and away from her shoulders to expose the pale ivory patina of her neck. The girl had piled and coiled her tresses into a lush pompadour. She loved the style because it made her look like a woman from the previous century; a true Gibson girl. Her heavy breasts strained at the shimmering fabric of her blouse. The cold air had teased her nipples erect and they were still prominently displayed when her youngest daughter Ellie arrived. Ellie was an inch taller than her mother. She’d inherited her father’s natural exuberance, and her mother’s buxom shape and facial features. She had long lashes, expressive gray eyes, ample hips and her mother’s bosom. She was wearing boots, tan corduroy jeans that fit snugly over her hips and derriere and a loose-fitting navy-blue sweater that amplified the rounded fullness of her seamless bra. A pair of fat snow men dangled from her ears. While Ellie shrugged out of her sheepskin coat and removed her tam, Harriet studied her daughter’s winter-red cheeks, flashing eyes, and dark rippling mass of brunette curls spilling from her shoulders. “Ellie, you look so festive. You’re simply gorgeous!” “Thanks, Mom. I could say the same about you. You look smashing in that red blouse, nipples and all. I’ll bet every guy in the place was ogling your jiggling bosom as you came in.” Harriet laughed. “That and my nipples, too. I can still turn heads, young lady.” “Don’t I know, Ellie responded, bending to her mother and wishing her a Merry Christmas. She also gave her mother an affectionate hug and kiss. Ellie’s personality was the opposite of her mother’s. Where Harriet was low-key and always carefully thought things through, sometimes analyzing decisions to death; Ellie was her father’s daughter - impetuous, energetic, and deeply in love with the girl she lived with. What Ellie and her mother did have in common were their iron wills and desperate need to be in control. As Ellie slid into the booth next to her mother, Harriet didn’t blink when Ellie casually ran her palm over the taut expanse of Harriet’s blouse. Harriet glanced at her daughter, but she didn’t say anything. Ellie was too loving and too unpredictable and she already knew where Ellie was going with her caress. The two of them had been here before. “Mom, is it just me or are you getting bigger in the bust? I swear you’ve grown inches since I last saw you.” “I was wondering when you’d notice, darling. I have grown some and I’m pleased you finally noticed. I’ve grown at least another inch and there isn’t anything I can do. The only place I ever gain weight is in the bust. My gynecologist says you and Bonnie - are going to be the same way. She says you two have inherited my seemingly endless bust growth.” “How cool is that? Does it bother you?” “Mmm, not really. I don’t think it ever bothered me. I’ve always enjoyed having a large bustline.” “Sometimes I wish I weren’t so big.” “Well, it’s a mixed blessing. Tops and blouses never fit. On the other hand, haven’t you noticed Chrissie watching you with those moony eyes of hers and the way she fondles you? It’s clear to me she’d love to see you with even larger breasts.” “Oh, Mom, I know how she feels. She’s very open about it and I appreciate that. I just don’t like the street stares – all those dirty old men.” Harriet let out a sigh. “Ellie, you may as well get used to that. You can’t change it. And you’d better not be thinking of a reduction!” “Mom! I’d never do that to you or Chrissie.” “All right then, put a smile on that pretty face and explain to me why you’re still in a bra. You promised me you were going stop that dreadful practice.” Ellie gave her mother an exasperated look. “Mom, I’m a 38FF. Unlike you I’m not sure I want to go braless. Yes, I know; Chrissie would love it.” Harriet couldn’t help smiling. “38FF indeed! Don’t talk to me about bra sizes. A few years ago out of curiosity I went to a bra fitting at Goldman’s. The woman who fitted me told me I was a 46K and I know I’ve grown some since then.” “Okay, Mom, you win. Between you and Chrissie, I can see it’s a losing battle. When we get together on Christmas Eve I promise I’ll be braless.” “Good girl!” Relieved to be past that subject, Ellie ordered wine for her mother and herself. “Mom, this is such a treat. It’s been a long time since the three of us were together. I mean how often does it happen? We’re just too damn busy! God, what a day! I swear I should never have become a CPA. Tax season isn’t even here yet. I should have taught history or something. So what’s up with you?” “The hotel is busy, too. But it sounds to me like you’re too busy, Ellie. Slow down and enjoy the holidays. Relax and drink your wine. I’m going to wait until Bonnie gets here before sharing my news. So let’s talk about Chrissie. Are you two still madly in love?” “You always ask me that - as if I’m not.” “Well, have you told her you love her?” “Mom, of course I tell her. Every day.” Ellie smirked. “In fact, I’ve proposed. I asked her to become my life partner.” “Omigod. Congratulations, darling! Did you give her a ring?” “Yes, and you’ll see it Christmas Eve. It’s a real rock!” “Oh, Ellie, darling, I’m so happy for you - and Chrissie, too.” Harriet enveloped her daughter in her arms. As she rocked her daughter, tears streamed down her cheeks. “I never thought my daughter would fall in love with another girl, but if it’s what you want, sweetie, it’s okay with me.” “Thanks, Mom. That means so much.” Ellie spotted her older sister making her way through the tables. “Bonnie’s here! Now we’re three.” She jumped up to hug her sister. Bonnie, the quieter and less compulsive daughter took in Ellie’s exuberance and her engagement announcement with a warm patient smile. She gave her younger sister a hug and a kiss. After taking off her camel hair coat, Burberry scarf, and stocking cap, she bent to kiss her mother. Bonnie had her mother’s laid back persona along with her shape, height, and weight. At 24, she was as plump as her mother and had nearly acquired her mother’s sumptuous bustline. She wore her ash-blonde hair in a simple page boy style. Her blue-gray eyes were large and soft. There wasn’t a trace of lipstick on her wide and full mouth. She had on a khaki denim A-line jumper she’d sewed herself from a McCall’s pattern. Her prominent waist gave the fleeting impression she was in the first trimester of a pregnancy. In fact, she wasn’t carrying a child. Her waist was simply hidden beneath the breadth and depth of her unsupported bustline. Beneath her jumper she wore a red turtle-neck sweater. Below the hem of her jumper, red and white striped leggings could be glimpsed above her tight-laced boots. Harriet looked up at her oldest daughter. “So, how is Terry?” Harriet asked solicitously. “I haven’t seen that husband of yours for what seems like months.” “He’s working long hours at the garage. I guess it’s the snow causing damage to cars. I hardly see him. When he comes home he eats dinner and when I take him up to bed, he can’t even stay awake much less get it up for me.” Harriet laughed so hard her mountainous breasts shook. She leaned across the booth to Bonnie who was looking at her with a puzzled expression. She whispered, “I know it’s not funny, Bonnie. I shouldn’t laugh, but the thought just occurred to me I should buy you a vibrator for Christmas. It’s great for you when Terry’s too tired.” “Mom,” Bonnie said carefully, “You’re being crude and it doesn’t suit you.” “I’m sorry, Bonnie.” Harriet wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. Bonnie rolled her eyes. Ellie wriggled her hips excitedly. “M-o-t-h-e-r-r, we’re dying to know what’s happening. Why did you call us?” “All right, girls, I can’t top Ellie’s engagement announcement, but I do need some advice. A few months ago, I hired this good looking young man - well, actually, he’s 24 and an incredible hunk - to work in my laundry. I wouldn’t know about such things, but my housekeeper and Mrs. Briggs, the Laundry Manager, tell me he’s a real stud muffin.” “Right, Mom,” the girls said between rolling gales of laughter. They could already sense where this conversation was going. “So what’s his name?” Ellie asked, smiling broadly at her mother. “Ted Bell. And I’m telling you he’s gorgeous. He’s got muscles most men dream of. He’s cute, too.” “What’s he like?” Bonnie asked in a prim and pragmatic tone. “Well, he’s quiet, very shy, and oh so respectful…” Harriet paused. “In my presence he’s nearly struck dumb. He’s terrified of me…and he clearly worships my breasts...” “Oh, Mother, please,” Bonnie responded. “Of course he’s frightened. Honestly, does that surprise you? You’ve always expected and commanded men’s respect. You couldn’t do otherwise and you raised Ellie and me the same way. Terry knows who wears the pants in my home.” Ellie chimed in. “Mom, Bonnie’s right. Chrissie loves me but I alone rule the roost. She loves me and fears me and if she doesn’t mind me, she knows she’ll get a good dose of my discipline. I run the household. I manage the finances; make the purchases, run our social life, everything. You’re a take-charge lady. Ted sounds like he knows his place. So what’s the problem?” “He’s only 24.” “S-o-o-o?” Ellie immediately opined. “Mom! You’re being silly. What’s age got to do with it?” Bonnie asked incredulously. “Do you like him?” “Is this going to become serious?” “Are we going to have a stud muffin step-dad?” Harriet pursed her lips thoughtfully and looked at her daughters. “S-o-o you two don’t think I’m too old for Ted? Remember, I’m 44…He’s 24.” Bonnie squeezed her mother’s hand. “Mom, you’re a so-young 44. My friends can’t believe you’re not in your mid-thirties.” Ellie affectionately pressed her hip into her mother’s. “Mom, you owe it to yourself even it’s just a fling. Fix Ted one of your famous pot roasts. Show some cleavage. If the pot roast doesn’t hog-tie him, your boobs will.” All three women laughed at that. Over more wine, grilled filet mignons and twice-baked potatoes, they continued to talk about Harriet’s future with Ted and Ellie’s engagement to Chrissie. Harriet’s daughters would not relent. They reminded Harriet she had an obligation to herself. Don’t let Ted slip through her fingers! By the end of the meal, Harriet was convinced her daughters were right. It was snowing heavily when the three women came out of the restaurant. Ellie began to sing, “Jingle Bells…Jingle Bells…” She hugged her mother and said, “Mom, please take Ted to bed. It’s the right thing to do.” Bonnie chimed in, “If he’s ever not respectful and doesn’t do as you say, just bring him over to my house for some of my good old fashioned domestic discipline.” “I second that, Bonnie,” Ellie said. “I’ll hold him down while you paddle.” “Thank you, girls, for your assurances. I’m going to lasso Ted - or Teddy, as I like to call him. I don’t know where it’ll lead. Who knows? Maybe I’ll marry him. The first thing to do is get that boy between my thighs. “And your boobs,” Ellie tossed in with a naughty laugh as she disappeared into the falling snow.
The next morning before Harriet went to work, she put a pot roast in her Crock Pot. At mid-morning, she took a break from her housekeeping rounds and descended the steel steps to the basement laundry. Even in winter the laundry was a hot steamy place. The acrid scents of detergent and wet wash hit her in the face when she opened the fire door that led into the laundry. Mrs. Briggs, a heavy set African American woman with a bosom nearly as large as Harriet’s, was working in her glassed-in cubicle. She was dressed in a white cap and crisp pale blue cotton uniform. Spotting Harriet, she came out to greet her boss. “Good morning, Harriet.” She’d emigrated from Liverpool and still spoke in a thick Limey accent. She stuck her pen into her hair and took off her reading glasses. “So what brings my favorite boss down here?” “Actually, dear, it’s unrelated to laundry. Yesterday I was so busy I forgot to tell you about my meeting with Frances. I admonished her and then I made some…um…arrangements.” Mrs. Briggs opened her mouth wide and laughed so hard her bosom rose and fell with her mirth. Her limpid brown eyes shone. “Oh, yes, my goodness, I know all about the locker room. She told me. Nevertheless, I do appreciate your coming down here to tell me yourself.” “While I’m here, I want to ask a personal favor of Ted. I need some shelving put up at home and someone said he does carpentry. Where is he?” Mrs. Briggs gestured to a giant stainless steel machine across the cavernous basement space. “He’s over there - extractor two.” “Thanks. I won’t take him away but for a moment.” “Take all the time you need, Harriet. Ted’s a good boy. He never sasses and blimey! He’s s-o-o cute – I’d love to take him home myself.” “Emily, don’t you dare. That boy is mine.” Emily Briggs’ rich waves of laughter followed Harriet as she walked away. Ted didn’t see her coming. He was pulling sheets from the extractor into a cart as she approached. He had on a sleeveless tee-shirt and faded jeans and Harriet could see the fluid rippling of his arm and back muscles as he worked. The sight of his tight buns and the prospect of bedding of him made her light-headed. She had to compose herself as she neared. “Good morning, Ted.” Ted’s head jerked up. He smiled broadly at her and she caught his eyes flicking down to the broad expanse of her bosom and her inch or two of deliberately exposed cleavage. “Good morning, Ma’am. I’m surprised to see you down here. D-Did I…do something wrong?” Harriet struggled to hide her pleasure. He submitted to her so easily. Unknowingly, he’d just made her day. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder. It felt like angular chiseled granite. “Heavens to Betsy, Ted, Teddy you’ve done nothing wrong. Mrs. Briggs has nothing but good things to say about you. I’m here because someone told me you do carpentry and I need some shelving installed in a closet. I’m not asking for a freebie. I’ll pay you for your work.” Ted scratched his head. “Gee whiz, Ma’am, I’d be proud to install your shelving. When do you want it done?” “Is tonight too soon?” “Oh, no, Ma’am.” Harriet couldn’t help smiling at Ted’s eagerness. It was the opening she wanted and it had gone well. Perhaps what she had in mind could be accomplished tonight. “I already have a stack of boards that I think will work. Can you be there by five?” “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll just bring my tools. You won’t need anything.” Pulling a small spiral bound note book from her pocket, Harriet jotted down her phone number and directions to her home. Ted was ecstatic. She thought he might hug her he was so excited. “Ma’am, I’m so honored you asked me instead of hiring a guy. I’ll do a great job. You’ll be pleased - I promise!” Harriet could have kissed him, but she composed herself and patted his arm. “I’m sure I’ll be very pleased, Ted.” As she walked away she thought of something. She turned back to Ted. “We’re going to get 8 - 12 inches of new snow tonight. When you pick up your tools, pack an overnight bag. You’re having dinner and then you’re staying with me tonight. I have an extra bedroom. I won’t let you drive through a blizzard in the dark.” Ted stared at her. “But, M-Ma’am-” Harriet held up her index finger. “Never mind, young man. Not another word. Just do as you’re told…”
- Continued in Part Three -
|