It was a fine spring day and I was feeling good. Better than good; I was in a fantastic mood. The weather was warm, I'd caught up with all my housekeeping jobs, and I was free as a bird for the rest of the day. Nothing I had to do for myself and no extra tasks tossed to me by either parent. Free as a bird and this bird was flying off.
I would, I decided, go around to my boyfriend's place. He wasn't exactly expecting me but I had said that I'd drop around if I got a chance. I dressed with care, considering the warm weather and what might happen once I was alone with Chas.
Oh, don't get me wrong. I wasn't going around there in anticipation of getting laid. Certainly not. Chas and I haven't reached that stage in our relationship yet and we might never reach it. That didn't mean we couldn't have a little fun together.
I had on a halter criss-cross crop top that tied at the back. No bra. I could get away without one because my breasts had yet to yield to gravity's influence, being high and firm and, I'll admit it, slightly bouncy when I wore that top. It was low enough at the hem to cover my breasts (just) but, when tied a little loosely there was an interesting gap down there, one a hand could slide up. (Not that I'd encourage Chas to slide his hand up under my top but boys will be boys. If he did try I'd just have to slap him down a little. Maybe.)
To go with the top I had on a pair of shorts. The shorts only had a single button at the waist and they were tight enough to draw attention to my hips and bottom. They were also tight enough so they wouldn't slip down if that button came undone. As a matter of fact they were tight enough that even with the button undone I'd have a hard job removing them. I was fairly confident that Chas wouldn't be able to. (I'm not saying that he'd try but you never knew.)
So, OK, it might sound as though I had an intention to get laid but I really didn't. Still, I was eighteen and feeling good and if a little petting should happen to occur I thought I would be able to handle it.
Yeah, I can hear what you're thinking but you're wrong. I wouldn't be alone with Chas where he could take unfair advantage of me. His father, Bram, and his sister would be home as well. A slightly raised voice and one of them would come running. Probably his sister, as Megan is such a snoop.
I drove around to Chas's place. The front door was open so I just banged on it and called out.
"Come in if you're good looking," yelled a voice.
That had to be Bram. It's just the sort of thing he would say. I didn't even get to step inside before Bram stuck his head out a nearby room and looked to see who was there.
"Oh, yes, Patty, you can definitely come in. They don't come much better looking."
Yep. That was Bram, laying it on with a trowel. I walked in and headed into the room that he had vanished back into.
"Hi, Bram," I said. "Chas around?"
"Mm?" he said, looking at me thoughtfully. He spun a finger, presumably wanting me to turn around. I heard him say, "Pity," as I rotated.
"Um, Chas?" I asked, "And what's a pity?"
"Your top is done up with a knot," he said, "and no, Chas isn't here right now."
"Ah, what's wrong with a knot and where is Chas?"
"For a start, Chas has been dragooned by his sister to take her and some friends to the beach. My understanding was that Megan invited you along but you couldn't make it. The problem with a knot is that it won't come undone if you give it a quick tug."
"Someone must have forgotten to pass the invite on," I said, feeling irritated. I could guess just who that might have been, too. Bitch.
It finally filtered through to me that we were having two conversations here. Why was my top the subject of one of them?
"Not coming undone is the whole purpose of a knot," I pointed out. I'm rather attached to my top and I'd hate to see it come adrift by accident. And why are we discussing my top anyway."
"There would be nothing accidental about it, let me tell you," Bram said with a smile. "Fortunately it doesn't require the knot to be untied. I might add I'm not interested in your top."
Now I have to admit that with the crop top and the low shorts I had a respectable amount of midriff showing. I was fine with that. On me it looked good. The point I'm trying to make here is that it's look good, not feel good. That's what other people are supposed to do where my tummy is concerned. Look. Not touch.
Bram put his hands on my tummy and just moved them up. They slid up and under the loose hem and onto my breasts, to my scandalized amazement. I was even more scandalized and amazed, no, shocked, when he flexed his hands and I found the top was loose enough to be able to slide up his hands and off my breasts. Just like that my top was rucked up above my breasts and Bram's hands were doing the work of a bra. I knew I should have tied the damn thing just a little tighter.
So there I was. The only reason I wasn't flashing my breasts at Bram was because his hands were covering them. Sort of. His hands kept moving around them, rubbing them and teasing them. I'd keep seeing flashes of white against the deep tan of his hands, hands which felt rather hard and rough.
"Do you mind?" I asked rather acerbically.
"No. Not really," he said in a happy voice. "You really have very lovely breasts."
"Thank you, I think," I replied. "Ah, the point is that they're mine. Not yours. If you'd be so kind as to remove your hands?"
"Mm, no. Not yet," he said.
While I was standing there with my mouth opening and closing while I tried to say something but totally failed to come up with any words to properly express my outrage, he moved over to the couch, taking me with him. Then he finally removed his hands from my breasts.
I was appalled to find that my nipples were standing out and my breasts felt heavy. I was prepared to swear that they were somewhat swollen. Before I could drag my top down over them the situation changed.
Bram sat down on the couch and pulled me down onto his knee. Then he bent his head down and he was kissing my breasts. Not content with just touching them he was now kissing them. And doing other things, as well. I could feel a gentle suction when his lips closed over a nipple, his tongue and teeth teasing it.
I managed to push his head away and he straightened up, still keeping me on his lap. I now knew what was meant when heaving breasts were mentioned, because mine were doing it right then. I was breathing somewhat harder and my breasts were moving in tine to my breathing, seeming to swell up when I inhaled. Bram, naturally enough, was watching my heaving breasts.
It was obvious that I was going to have to lay down the law. There was just no way I could permit Bram to touch me like this. I mean, I wouldn't even let Chas do this (I don't think) let alone his father.
"Bram, you really can't do this sort of thing," I said firmly, reaching for my top to pull it back into position. Unfortunately I failed in this attempt because Bram's hands were back on my breasts.
"Bram," I exploded. "If you don't mind?"
"I don't," he calmly told me. "If I minded I wouldn't be doing it, now would I? You have very nice breasts and they deserve having a man pay his respects to them. Don't worry. You can't get pregnant by a man touching your breasts."
That's all he knew. Girls know better. That's why I'm on the pill.
"That's irrelevant," I pointed out. "The point is you shouldn't be touching me at all."
"Why not? You plainly like it," he said, lightly touching a nipple to prove his point.
"Still irrelevant," I grumbled. "You just can't go around grabbing girls like this."
"Well I know that," he told me, "but I'm not grabbing girls. Just one girl. You. Stop worrying about it and enjoy the attention. I'm not going to go too far and a little bit of petting can be fun."
That was too close to my own thoughts for comfort, but I'd been considering Chas in the position of he who pets, not his father. That did sort of change things.
"It's a matter of principle," I said, speaking loftily and trying to grab the moral high ground.
"Maybe, but matters of principle only matter if you have principles. Right now, I don't."
He demonstrated his lack of principles by dropping a hand to my shorts and flicking open the button that theoretically held them up. Good luck with that, I thought snarkily, knowing that my shorts weren't coming down without a determined effort being applied, which I had no intention of permitting.
Fortunately (for me, I guess) he didn't even try to pull my shorts down or to even slip his hand inside them. Unfortunately he did start stoking me through the shorts. Not that he could do much as I was holding my legs together in a suitably modest manner. (OK. Nearly together, and you can't say I wasn't trying to do the right thing.)
I, quite naturally, as I'm sure you understand, was trying to push his hands away from my, ah, more sensitive areas. This seemed to irritate Bram slightly, to the point where he grabbed my hand and moved it aside.
"Here," he said. "If you have to hold something, hold this."
Oh, gosh, could you believe he pushed my hand against the fly of his trousers and I could feel just what he was suggesting that I hold. He had to be kidding. I could feel it bulging up against his trousers and it seemed to me that it was a bit much for me to handle.
"I suggest you move it out from where it is," he told me. "It's rather confined at the moment and it needs a bit of freedom before I do myself an injury."
That was a pathetic attempt at getting me to drag his cock out into the light. Do himself an injury? Come on. Even Chas hadn't tried that line on me. Oh, wait, he did, but it didn't work. It wouldn't have worked for Bram either but I had to admit that I was just a teeny bit curious. Was that thing really as large as it felt? And his fly was unzipped so all I'd have to do would be to nudge it slightly so it popped out.
So I nudged and it popped out and it looked enormous. Quite frankly I was just too embarrassed to even look at it. That meant I had to cover it with my hand. It was the only reasonable course of action. That meant that Bram was able to continue touching me fairly intimately, what with my hands being otherwise occupied.
I was quite relieved when Bram suddenly swung me back onto my feet. I was breathing quite hard and feeling all hot and flushed. I almost sniggered when he reached for my shorts. Good luck with that, I thought.
He didn't need luck. He just took hold of my shorts by taking hold of the bottom of the legs. He gave them a sharp tug and the shorts popped over my hips and bottom and went sailing down my legs like no-one's business. I didn't believe it. I couldn't take them off that fast.
Bram seemed both amused and puzzled by the shock I showed.
