Helen’s thoughts drifted to her son. He was eighteen years old when things started to happen. His gangly body, just starting to fill out, was far too tall for the weight it carried. Girls found him a bit awkward; consequently, he was extremely shy. Painfully so. He could barely talk without stammering while his adrenaline levels increased with his fear. A few girls told him he had potential, but seemed unwilling to wait for it to blossom. He had been told he looked like his dad who had died years ago and he often looked at a picture of his father hoping he would indeed look like him some day. He hadn't realized that day was fast approaching. Chris Anderson was his father's name and his too, since Helen had named him after her dead husband. Chris Sr. had died so young while saving the life of another in an industrial accident. That accident forced the company to pay Helen enough to raise her children and she worked at a local hardware store to earn money for the extras. In time, she moved into management at headquarters downtown and often worked late. Helen became a career woman, no longer needing that kind of money but enjoying the work, with little time other than that she spent with her children.
It was no mischance Helen was an incredibly attractive woman. She knew full well it was her attractiveness that had successfully won Chris Sr. from the bevy of beauties who swarmed around him in his youth. With sadness, Helen realized her son was not enjoying similar success; she didn’t understand her husband had gone through the same pain before she met him. Chris Sr.’s gentleness and unassuming disposition came from that time in his life and had been one of the reasons Helen was so attracted to him. One of the consequences her children suffered was not having their dad to explain his own problems while growing up.
Chris' older sister, Jill, had blossomed rapidly at puberty. She grew into her femininity and with such exquisite beauty that no man from six to one-hundred failed to notice. If he breathed, he wanted her. Jill’s genetic endowments came from both her tall, handsome father and her equally beautiful mother. Unfortunately, this brought out the high school males who had more brawn than brain and the corresponding high personal opinion. Their constant groping, innuendo and general harassment frightened and embarrassed Jill. It caused a change in her. She went from one of the most popular, vivacious girls in the school to one of the most dowdy. At one time, Jill had put her contemporaries to shame with dress and manner. Now, she scurried through the hall in clothes that hid her figure; her arms tightly folded across her bosom to hide it from those same self-described "God’s gift to women".
The harassment slowly changed her personality. What happened to Jill was a condemnation of the entire male subspecies. Sadly, the very ones who caused her grief were also too stupid to notice her withdrawal. They drifted away when Jill’s sexuality was put under wraps and further exacerbated the problem by demonstrating that her tactic was successful. Her loneliness multiplied. Jill didn't want to discuss this with her highly stressed mother whose time seemed so limited lately. Instead, she turned to her brother Chris, crying on his shoulder in her loneliness and humiliation. They became best friends and loved each other strongly as brother and sister. They both felt they had similar problems. In his youth, Chris didn’t understand that what had been done to his sister, albeit unintentionally, had more severe long-term consequences than his own innate shyness. Helen felt idle hands were the Devil's hands, so they both worked odd jobs in the community. Their meager wages allowed the occasional show like the one they now attended together, forsaking the pain of dating. Meals out together became times of pleasure for them. Jill began to use her younger brother as her only confidant. She relayed all of her problems to him and with surprising maturity, Chris attempted to console, help or joke, depending on the situation.
Their next-door neighbor provided Chris with a steady diet of chores: lawn and garden one day, Mr. Fix-It the next, painter the next. She was an incredible lady; forty years old, but she had a swing to her step that suggested twenty. Miss Sue Wright often took his mother to the local gym to work out, as she was religious about it and attended five times a week. It certainly put a bounce in her walk that Chris noticed. She wasn't a sexual fantasy. She was simply the very pretty, out-going, funny next-door neighbor that had him laughing all the time. She was fun to be near, constantly observing the funnier side of life, pointing out the foibles of fellow humans as well as her own, all without rancor. When she wasn't joking with him or at work, she exercised on her machines and maintained a trim figure normally seen only in the young.
As summer began, Sue noticed Chris' body was beginning to fill out. She saw a gorgeous hunk of man emerging. Her excellent heath and constant exercise fueled a sexual appetite she loved to satisfy. She began to notice the boy next door in a new light. He might be young, but only slightly off-limits. She changed her dress and deportment and in his presence, became more sexually explicit in her body language. She brought him cool drinks while he worked; yet, he didn’t notice her dress became skimpier, showing her more-than-adequate feminine charms. Women never noticed Chris, so he never noticed the changes in Sue. This frustrated her to no end. She was used to getting men, so his lack of interest intrigued her. She was determined to have that boy.
One day, when Chris was painting the outside of her home, she brought him a cool drink dressed in her skimpiest bikini. He showed absolutely no reaction. However, he had stripped off his shirt and stood there in shorts, his head thrown back drinking. The perspiration streaming over his washboard stomach caused her nipples to harden. Damn that boy! What was a girl to do? She waited until he was painting her exercise room window frames before beginning a workout, still wearing the bikini. She spread her legs and thrust up with her hips trying to show off, but the paintbrush didn't slow down. She gyrated, heaved, thrust and pulled; doing everything in her exercise arsenal that might be taken sexually, yet the paintbrush continued.
Trying to make it appear an accident, she hooked her bikini strap against the workout bench, stuck out her chest and forced the strap. It worked beautifully. Her bikini top sprang from her body, revealing her abundant charms. Sue stood, grabbed a towel and wiped the perspiration from between her pendulous breasts. Catching him in the periphery of her vision, she saw the paintbrush had finally stopped. There he stood, a wild animal caught in the headlights of a car, his eyes riveted on her breasts. She continued to wipe and made sure they bounced and jiggled with her motions. Finally, she turned and left the room. She had his full attention. There may have been an extra sway to her bottom, but even she wasn’t sure.
He was stunned. They were fantastic. They were also surprising. In his fantasies, he’d never considered a woman's nipples would be lower than his own. He always thought they’d be in the same place on everyone’s chest. Her nipples appeared to be a full inch below his, because her breasts were quite large. They were so white and a dramatic contrast to her dark tan. The sight caused an immediate physical change. Things became so tight; he had to adjust. That night, Sue was his sexual fantasy and in his mind, he reviewed her breasts again and again. The next day, he told his sister what he had seen, confiding in her as she had confided in him. Chris didn't realize he was treading in a minefield of emotions, emotions she didn't know she possessed.
