It was late afternoon as Francine Smith arrived home from her Saturday morning Pennsylvania porn store visit. The day's activities had left her feeling relaxed and confident. She had felt enough self-admiration and assurance that she left the top buttons of her pink dress undone to reveal much more cleavage than normal.
The sun was still bright and the temperatures sweltering as she parked her SUV in the garage. As she opened the door from the garage she noticed a flash of red and blue scooting through the back yard just as Roger the alien entered from the Dining Room, distracting her attention.
Dressed in an ill-fitting business suit and comb over toupee, Roger waddled through the kitchen towards the garage. "Later Franny." He called out as he walked by. "It's going to be a busy afternoon at the car lot. Have a trailer full of Mini Coopers arriving this afternoon that are not going to sell themselves."
SLAM, went the door to the garage as Francine stood with a blank expression. Before she could move, the door swung open quickly. With a smiling face, Roger asked innocently, "Did you remember to get my Legerdemain like I asked?"
Roger stared with a quizzical look as Francine's expression momentarily went from smiling to zombified. Her soft mouth hung open as she stared off into space, tiny beads of sweat forming on her upper lip. Rogers gaze fell to her heaving breasts. He watched intently as her nipples began to harden and press against the soft material of her dress.
"Okee Dokee then," he sarcastically spit. "Maybe next time don't ask if someone else needs you to pick something up for them while you are out." He finished just as he slammed the door closed.
Francine stood transfixed in place for several minutes as she felt the thrilling changes running through her body once more. As her vision began to come back into focus, she could feel the adrenaline rushing through her body, pumping blood to her various erogenous zones.
Her mouth suddenly dry, she stumbled to the refrigerator and grabbed a Mike's Hard Lemonade, pounding it in several long gulps. Grabbing two more bottles, she left the kitchen and went to sit out in the back yard by the pool for a while.
With the sun still hot and the early evening breeze she relaxed back in her chair. Satisfied no one could see into her secluded spot, she opened her bottle of Mike's Hard and pulled out a joint she had rolled earlier. After a few lung-fulls, she decided to undo the top buttons of her conservative pink dress and catch some rays on her cleavage.
Lying back in the reclining chair on the lawn she halfway dozed off in the heat of the afternoon sun. She had been napping for about 20 minutes in a half-asleep state when she was awakened by a rustling sound coming from the bushes at the back end of the garage by the garden. The pretty blonde mother listened for a moment. "Damn birds."
After a few minutes she heard the noise again but still thought nothing of it. Looking down at the sweat pooling in her cleavage, she unfastened yet another button on her dress and spread it open revealing even more cleavage to the warmth of the sun, along with the edge of her pretty lace bra.
Just as she settled down to enjoy another few minutes in the sun, there was an almighty crash behind the garage, quickly followed by a strange groaning sound.
Francine quickly leapt to her feet and ran to the back edge of the garage to see what all the commotion was about. "Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed as she saw a ladder, and her son Steve lying in a crumpled heap in the hedge row separating the garden area from the rest of the back yard. He seemed to be in some pain. "Don't move Steve!" She cried.
Without hesitation the kind hearted, if buzzed, mother rushed as quickly as her stilettos would allow. She rushed through the gate and into the garden where her son had managed to crawl out from the bushes and onto the grass. As he lay there, staring up at the sky he could hear the "click clack" sound of her heels on the garden paver stones as she hurried to him.
"Oh Steve! Where does it hurt?" The worried mother asked.
"My leg." he groaned as he held the top of his thigh. "I think I've pulled something." His face was beaded with sweat and his expression was one of a person in great discomfort.
"Oh no!" Francine said, "Okay let's see what we can do." She looked down unsure of what to do. "Lay still Steve. Don't move it. I know a little bit about massaging muscles and stuff. Maybe I could try and massage it. Would that help?"
"I guess that might help." Steve replied in agony. "I'm sure it's probably a muscle pull or a bruise. It's got to be worth a try Mom."
"What were you doing on the ladder anyway Steve?" Francine asked as she stood over him.