Emma Ch 04 3

When I got home on Thursday my mother was home. She works for a company based in LA, which is 7 hours behind the UK. As her job involves lots of conference calls with head office, she works Californian office hours and is rarely home before 23:00. But there are exceptions, and this was one of them.

"You're home early," I said.

"I had a clear calendar, so I took the rest of the day."

This left me with a bit of a quandary. I couldn't change into my modified 'teasing' uniform with my mum there to see it. Kevin and co would be home in an hour. I couldn't be in my regular uniform when they arrived, or they would know I'd been deliberately teasing them for last few days. And after justifying wearing my uniform. It would seem strange for me to change into regular clothes.

In the end I opted for the last option. So after spending some time chatting with mum in the kitchen, I had my regulation shower and changed into my regular home clothes.

By the time I was done Kevin and his friends were home. They were in the kitchen, Kevin was talking to mum. The rest of the boys were just lounging around. They looked disappointed when I came in dressed in... well, properly dressed. Their plans for the evening had been disrupted by my mum's presents. But I had a plan that would give them a bit of hope for the future.

"Mum, I need new clothes," I announced.

"I thought we went over this at the weekend. School finishes in a few months. You can make do until then."

"Not school clothes. Regular clothes."

"Nonsense. You've got plenty of clothes."

"I did, but I can't find them. The only t-shirt I could find is this one. Other than that I've only got old vest tops. And they don't fit me properly anymore."

"Well they can't just have disappeared. I'm sure they'll turn up. They probably just got caught up with my stuff, or Kevin's when we did laundry. Kevin can you check your wardrobe."

I knew he'd find a pile of my t-shirts, because I'd just put them there. But I was hoping the talk of 'only got old vest tops. And they don't fit me properly anymore' would motivate him to keep them hidden in his own wardrobe.

And so it proved. My mother and brother both checked their wardrobes, and both came back empty handed. Although Kevin had a big, self satisfied grin.

"I'm sure they'll turn up," my mother consoled me. "Can you make do until they do?"

"I guess so," I replied.

Shortly after that Kevin and his friends left. I guess they weren't interested in spending time at our house if there wasn't a half naked girl to gawp at.

I went to Kevin's room to get my clothes back. I'd made my excuse to wear too small tops, but I did want the option of being properly dressed. But the shirts were gone. I hunted through his bedroom, but whatever he'd done with them I couldn't find them.

The next day, Friday, the boys were back in the house, and mum was back at work. I was in the kitchen waiting for them when they came in. I had my books out, so I could revise for my exams. But in truth I was too nervous to take anything in. You would think after the previous week I'd be use to wearing revealing clothes around the boys. Maybe if it wasn't clear they were going out of their way to watch me, or how worked up it got them, my nerves might have settled down a bit.

The outfit wasn't really more revealing than my modified uniform. I was wearing a pair of tight jeans that were definitely less revealing than the short skirt from my uniform. I'd paired that with a strappy top. It had been loose when I'd bought it as a scrawny 12 year old. But it fit my 18 year old body like a second skin. There was a decent amount of cleavage, though not as much as the modified school blouse. But it stretched across my breasts, accentuating their size. It looked like I'd stuffed two footballs into my shirt. The top was white, but I was wearing a black bra underneath it which was clearly visible through the stretched weave of the shirt.

I felt the need to explain why I was dressed like that; To make my excuses.

"Kevin, are you sure my shirts didn't end up in your wardrobe. Mum told me I have to change after school, but I can only find old tops," my voice was a little whingey. "Look at me," I said, standing up and facing them so they could do just that. "This top looks ridiculous!"

I indicated to my shirt by waving my hands up and down. My tits stuck out from my small body, barley contained by the stretched fabric of my shirt. At that moment they felt enormous, like two over inflated beach balls.

They stared in silence, mouths open, gobsmacked for what seem like a life time. In reality it was probably only a few seconds. I felt my nipples hardened under the lusty gaze. Thankful for the bra that kept them hidden.

At last Kevin broke the silence.

"Sis, your shirt is fine. Nobody would even notice if you hadn't said anything."

The ridiculousness of the lie made the situation seem somehow more erotic.

"What's your plan for the evening?" Paul cut in.

"Well, I kind of need to do some revision, but I can take it up to my room If I'm in your way."

"No, no. No need for that," He quickly replied. "It's your house. Just we were thinking about playing some volleyball in the garden, but we kind of need a sixth player to make it 3-a-side."

To say Kevin and his friends aren't the athletic type is an understatement. In all the years I've known them, and that's been all my life, I've never known any of them to voluntarily do exercise. They were all either a little over weight, or scrawny. So this had nothing to do with them wanting to play volleyball. Given that Paul, like the rest of the gang, hadn't been able to tare his eyes away from my tits since he walked in. I knew the only thing he was interested in was what my chest would do if I was jumping around after a volleyball.

I imagined myself leaping for a high ball. My boobs bouncing up, coming down again. Quivering from the motion before settling again. I imaged the look on the boys faces as they were held in thrall by my display.

"Well I guess it would be good to have a break. OK, yeah I'll play. But only for a bit. I need to keep my head in the books."

The boys excitement was palpable.

"I need to go get changed first though."

"What's wrong with what you're wearing now?" asked Paul, crestfallen.

"Well I can't really play in jeans. Let me go put on some shorts while you guys go set the game up."

I left the room, but as had become my habit, I stopped outside the door to listen to them talk about me.

"What the fuck Paul," Bobby said. "Volleyball!?"

"What's wrong with that. I wanna watch her jumping around. what's wrong with you?"

"He's right Paul," my brother cut in. "We all suck at volleyball, and more importantly we don't have a volleyball net, or even a fucking volleyball."

"So we'll improvise. It's not like we really wanna play volleyball. We just wanna watch your sister bouncing her big titties for us."

"Yeah, we all want that. But why volleyball."

"I don't know, I was looking at her tits and I thought, 'those massive balloons would look fucking awesome bouncing around a volleyball court.' I didn't see any of the rest of you speaking up."

"I'm with Paul on this," Frank weighed in. "She agreed to play, and I really wanna see her bouncing her boobs. What was he supposed to say 'Hey Emma, will you shake your big titties for us?' don't think that would have gone down too well."

"But we don't have a volleyball, so how's that going to work out for you?"

"They sell balls in the shop round the corner. We can be there and back in a few minutes."

"They sell kids squishy footballs. Not volleyballs."

"What the fuck does it matter what kind of ball it is. As long as we can get Emma to jump up and down chasing it."

I had to rush upstairs at that point so who ever they sent to buy the ball didn't find me outside the door listening.

I dug out a pair of old school gym shorts that were suitably small. I tried a couple of pairs before I was happy with my choice. So by the time I was ready the boys had their new ball.

They were waiting for me in the garden. They had a length of rope strung across the garden about 6 feet in the air as a net and had a hello kitty ball.

"3-a-side," Kevin said when I arrived. "You're with Paul and Bobby. We'll just knock about for a bit, then start the game once we've all got our eye in."

Paul, Bobby and I spread out at one end of the 'court' and the other 3 boys did the same at the other end.

Justin, while no athlete, was the most coordinated of the gang, served. He held the ball in one hand, and smashed it under arm was the other.

It was a clean hit, with a reassuring boom, but the light ball caught in the air almost immediately and barely made it to the net.

He tried again from closer, clearly aiming for me. But a soft breeze caught it and swung it towards Paul.

Paul hit it back, over arm, but didn't clear the net.

And so it went for the next 10 minutes. The poor quality of the ball, and of the people playing the game, meant the ball never got anywhere near me.

Final, Justin took the ball. stood right next to the net, just a few feet in front of me, tossed the ball into the air so it came down straight at me.

I jumped up at it, swinging both hand together at the ball. I got the ball two handed at the top of my jump and it sailed over the net to land between the boys on the other team.

The action of my chest when I jumped was spectacular. My big breasts rose up off my chest, and held in the air weightless at the top of my leap. Then, as I came down, they dropped and bounced and swayed.

The boys were speechless, and I felt my nipples hardened and my pussy moisten by their stares.

"You should do it one handed," Paul said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You hit the ball with both hands, but you need to hit it with just one hand. Try again."

With that he picked the ball up and gently tossed it to me the same way Justin had moments before.

I jumped and hit it again. This time one handed. My boobs doing the same rising, falling bouncing as before.

"Yeah, that was better," Paul said. "But maybe try it with an open hand rather than a fist."

The boys formed a semi-circle in front of me, to get the best possible view and Paul tossed the ball up again.

More advise followed from the same guys that had failed to hit the ball to me for 10 minutes. The ball was tossed up for me to hit again.

This went on for maybe 15 minutes. I was getting pretty hot and sweaty by now. My flesh shiny with moisture. My legs were starting to burn from the jumping. But I was feeling so horny from the display.

I made my excuses and rushed of for a long shower. I came twice thinking about what I'd done.