(all characters in this story are over the age of 18)
"In my own defense, I tried to move out the way."
"Maybe you should have tried harder!" Mary said, struggling to get up. "Would you please turn loose of my tit?"
"I would, but you have my hand pinned."
She squirmed a bit more, which did little but drive her soft breast even deeper into my palm.
"Oh, this is ridiculous," she said, with some heat.
I nodded my agreement. I mean how often do you find yourself buried under more than four hundred plastic pots, tangled up in gardening twine, with your hand filled with your best friend's stepmother.
Well, since his dad divorced her, I guess ex-stepmother would be the right term. After we graduated high school together, Ricky had headed off to college and was now living with his dad.
Me? Well, I was trying to make ends meet doing odd jobs till... well till something.I still couldn't quite make up my mind what I wanted to do.
Besides, I had to get out of this mess first.
The hemp line, a long, thick rope of it, was what had held the stacks of pots to the wall. It slipped off its nail as we were cleaning, and the pots came down, bringing the string with it. We were then trapped under the old, black, plastic pots and wrapped up in about twenty feet of unbreakable hemp line. She tried to move again, but only managed to tighten the lines even more. I felt her nipple like a hard pebble in the palm of my hand.
"Oh for goodness sakes, would you at least try to turn me loose?" She all but screamed, as my hand pressed harder into her breast.
"Mary, I...fine I'll try!"
I shifted a bit and then felt a stack of plastic pots shift under me. I tried to move again and couldn't. I did notice that I had managed to, if anything, tighten my hand even harder down against her breast.
"Well, did that help any?" I asked sarcastically. "I hope it did cause I'm pinned even more now."
She tried to wiggle which just made her breast move in my hand. I also noticed it made her ass rub across my crotch.
With a sigh she stopped and leaned back on me.
"This is ridiculous."
"You said that once already." I told her, trying to be helpful.
She turned her head trying to look me in the eye. Her short brunette hair, brushed my face and I found myself with my lips almost touching her cheek.
"Greg, this is no laughing matter. How are we going to get out of here?"
I looked past her face to the roof of the garden shed. I let my eyes go to the still tottering stacks of plastic pots that had yet to fall on us. I knew that it would take very little movement to make them come down.
"Mary I wish I had some idea. If we keep moving like we are, the rest of those will come down, and we will be truly buried." I pointed towards the pots with my chin.
"They're just plastic pots!"
"Yes, they won't hurt us, but we can't get purchase on them. The plastics too slick. It's like being in a ball pit. Plus, this damn line is not helping any."
I tried to shift my other hand. It was under her hip, and when I moved it I could just reach her pocket.
"Your phone wouldn't be in that pocket, would it?" I asked, with not much hope for that kind of luck.
She shook her head, which caused a pot to move, which caused a second shift. Then I watched as another of the ten-foot-tall pot stacks leaned over. The pots separated as they come down on top of us, and we were even more covered in the dirty, smelly plastic.
"The reason again why you saved all these pots?" I asked, when they settled at last.
She gave a huff then a sigh.
"I thought I might have a use for them some day," she answered.
I let my fingers slowly tap on her breast.
"Has anyone defined hoarding to you before?" I asked.
"Greg, I'm not a hoarder!"
"Let me tell you, I would find that a lot more convincing if... I wasn't buried under the results."
She squirmed a bit, and another stack came down onto us. I could barely make out the ceiling now. I pushed a pot to the side with my head, only to have another one move and pop me on the head. I got a shower of old dirt into my ear for my efforts.
"I'm sorry,"she said then. She sounded so defeated, I felt my heart nearly break.
"It's okay, Mary. I sorry, I was being an ass. I know you've been trying to clean out. Believe me, I have appreciated the money for helping you."
She shifted just a little to try and get more comfortable on top of me. For maybe the first time since I had known her, I wished she were a little less plump. The big soft hips and ass I had so admired though most of my teens had a bit of weight to them after all.
She leaned back against me again.
I breathed deeply of her. The smell of her hair, the smell of a woman sweating. Deodorant, perfume, shampoo. A dozen scents combining to make this fragrance that was so near my face.
I felt her ass wiggle a bit. Then she did it again.
"Greg? Is that your house keys?"
I realized that I had gotten more than half-hard, and she could feel it!
"Umm... no, it's not. Sorry."
She moved again, and I felt the length of me harden even more.
"Greg, why are you getting a hard-on?" she asked, then turning her head a bit to look down at me.
I scoffed.
"I have a sexy-as-hell woman on my lap, and I have a hand full of her...breast. I would be surprised if I wasn't."
"Sexy? Greg have you gone blind, I'm forty-nine years old and built like a pear." She moved herself a little, and I swear I got even harder. "Oh god lord, that's ridiculous. Now, stop it."
I just lay there for a second after that demand.
"Mary, just how do you recommend I do that?"
"Stop thinking dirty thoughts about me!"
I felt a sudden desire to tease her.
"You mean like the time you jumped into the lake, and your top came off your bathing suit?"
"Yes!"
"Or maybe when I saw you and Tom doing it in the hot tub one night from my window?"
"Yes...What? Oh my god! Did you watch us?" she asked, trying to turn even more. The rope bit into my leg painfully as she did!
"Stop moving! You're just tightening up everything more." I gave her a bit of a push with the hand on her hip, and she slid back to where she was before. Another pile of pots came down as our reward.
"I was trying to get off of you." She moved her arm around and managed to get some of the pots from above us. "And you didn't answer my question. Did you watch us having sex?"
"Mary, of course I did. You were naked!"
She was silent for a very long time.
"You shouldn't have watched. That was a private moment, you should have had the manners to respect that," she chided me.
"If you had been in your bedroom I would have. No, you were in the backyard not twenty feet from my bedroom window."
She went quiet again for a long time.