Part of it was the sitter's fault, but only a very small part. It was a hot and humid night and she must have been feeling a bit sticky. Now Annette was young, just past eighteen, and with only children around she probably felt quite safe in getting rid of her bra and just wearing a loose blouse. After all, when the parents got home, she'd be leaving, so still no problem.
The rest of the blame must be put squarely on Marge and Ted, the relevant parents of the kids Annette was sitting. Me, I like to feel I was totally blameless, just an interested observer of the whole debacle, there to soothe fractured nerves after the incident. I'm George, by the way, Marge's beloved brother.
Marge and Ted were going to a party and by a coincidence I was going to the same party. While not a teetotaller I'm not much for drinking. I'll have the occasional glass but I just don't like the stuff. It was no hardship for me to offer to be the driver, relieving Marge and Ted of the duty and letting them have a few.
Now I'm not implying that Marge and Ted were going to get plastered. They're both moderate drinkers, Marge more so than Ted, but even a few drinks could put you over the legal limit. Better to play it safe.
So we went to the part and a fine time was had by all, while back at the house Annette was feeling hot and sticky and shedding her bra. Ted really needs to get that AC fixed. He probably will the first day he finds himself sweltering in the heat.
It was close to midnight when we rolled up back at the house. Marge and Ted were happy while I was amused. Annette was sitting up watching TV and I was even more amused to see the way her braless breasts bounced enticingly under her blouse when she stood up to say hullo.
Marge went off to get her purse and I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Ted was in the front room talking loudly to Annette. When I came back Ted was standing side-on to Annette, describing something that involved a lot of hand movements. Annette was standing there, smiling and trying to show that she found everything he said fascinating. Good social skills, that girl.
Now we have a braless Annette talking to (listening to) a slightly tipsy Ted, whose arms were all over the place. As though drawn by a magnet one swept around and Ted's hand landed squarely on Annette's breast. It was funny to watch. I could see both their faces. Annette was looking shocked and Ted was looking bemused and interested.
As you would expect Annette hastily moved back far enough to dislodge Ted's hand and that should have been the end of it. Unfortunately, Ted was just tipsy enough to have his inhibitions lowered. With a look of expectation on his face he just reached out and pulled Annette's blouse open. He was lucky (or she was) that the buttons just popped open instead of ripping off, but the upshot was that he was standing there holding her blouse wide, a lovely pair of breasts on display, and I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed the sight.
This is the point where I would normally step in and steer Ted elsewhere while leaving an embarrassed Annette to tidy her clothing. What it turned out to be was the moment that Marge came sweeping back into the room.
Now Marge is a large woman. I'm not saying she's fat, just very large. Big boned, tall, and well padded. Her size worries her at times and she can get jealous very easily. She knows this and does try to control it but she had a couple of drinks in her.
So we have a large woman with jealous tendencies walking into a room to see her husband admiring the splendid chest of a well-endowed young lady. Admiring the bare chest of that well-endowed young lady. She lost it.
"You shameless hussy," she shouted. "How dare you try to tempt my husband? I'll show you a thing or two."
Hussy? Who uses that sort of word anymore? My sister, I guess.
It's surprising how fast a large woman can move when she wants to. Annette was busy protesting that it wasn't her fault but Marge wasn't listening, she was acting. She grabbed Annette by the arm and dragged her to the couch, sitting herself down and hauling Annette across her knee.
"Maybe a good hiding will teach you to leave other women's men alone," Marge was bellowing and her hand came down hard upon Annette's bottom.
Ted was ogling Annette who hadn't had a chance to do up her blouse. She was lying across Marge's knee with her breasts swinging free. Past time for me to be involved I decided.
I stepped up to Ted and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Get the hell out of here before I hang one on you," I snarled at him.
He took one look at me and beat a hasty retreat in the direction of their bedroom. I turned to Marge.
"Marge, think what you're doing," I snapped, catching her hand before she could go on with the beating. She gave me the evil eye and I continued.
"You know a spanking works better on a bare bottom," I told her, flicking up Annette's skirt and pulling her panties down.
There was an outraged howl from Annette but Marge just smiled and spanked that nice bare bottom. I stood back and watched, wanting to make sure that things didn't get out of hand. Besides, I had an interesting view.
I let Marge get in half a dozen good firm spanks and then I moved in. I caught her hand and told her enough.
"I'm sure she's learnt her lesson," I assured Marge. "Why don't you go to bed? I'm sure Ted's waiting there for you. I'll speak to Annette and see her out so you don't need to speak to her anymore."
With Marge having got her immediate outrage out of her system she was amenable to reason. I pulled Annette up off her lap and Marge rose, gave Annette one last glare, and stalked out.
Annette was almost in tears, her hands hovering near her bottom, wanting to touch it but unsure whether she should. She wasn't paying any attention to the disarrangement of her clothes and I was in no hurry to remind her. She aimed her distemper at me as the only target available.
"I didn't do anything," she hissed at me. I suspect she didn't want to yell in case Marge came back. "I was just standing there and then he ripped my blouse open. Marge had no right to hit me. And you! What's the deal with pulling down my panties?"
"I was only thinking of you," I explained. "If I had tried to stop Marge she might easily have lost her temper and really hit you. Can you imagine what it would be like if she punched you? As for your panties, it was a delaying tactic. It made Marge stop and think about what she was doing. While I'm sure it stung there was no real harm done."
I sat down on the couch, pulling her closer to me. My hands slid up her skirt and started gently rubbing her bottom, my fingertips really just feathering across her skin.
"A little massage and you'll be as good as new," I said softly, feeling her both calm down and become slightly flustered, what with my hands on her bottom.
"Um, OK, I'll accept you had good intentions, but it wasn't my fault," she grumbled.
"I know. I didn't say it was. Ted's an oaf and he was slightly tipsy. Still a bra might have been a better idea."
To emphasise the better idea I reached up and touched a nipple. She gasped and pulled her blouse across her breasts.
"Ah, if you excuse me, I think I'd better tidy up my clothes."
"OK. Probably a good idea, but first I'll just kiss it better."
With that I lifted her dress and leaned forward to give her a kiss. She gave a horrified little squeak and pushed my head back again.
"That's not where I was hurt and you know it," she gasped.
"I do know it," I admitted, "but it's fairly close. See. Just a hand's width away."
To demonstrate I slid my hand from her bottom down between her legs, neatly cupping her pussy, the tips of my fingers brushing her mons, where I'd just dropped a kiss.
"It's not close. There's a hell of a difference," she muttered. "Ah, would you please take your hand away from there."
I removed my hand. True, I managed to drag it slowly across her pussy while doing so, but I removed it.
"So you don't want me kissing it better here?" I asked, rubbing her mons.
"No," she gasped out, trying to pull back.
