My wife had this little accident which put her in hospital with a broken leg. No-one to blame. Lightning hit a tree near her and it just seemed to explode. A branch came hurtling across the path and knocked her legs out from under her, breaking one. So to hospital she had to go.
"OK," I thought. "No real problem. They'll bung a cast on it and send her home. Maybe keep her overnight, but that will be all."
Smirking doctor tells me, no worries, but an interesting case. They would have to keep my wife in for a while. How long is a while? No more than a month, he tells me.
A month! Seems some types of breaks need special care and my wife had one. The idiot doctor was quite enthused about it. He figured he'd write up a paper on the case.
So arrangements had to be made. I thought I'd be more use at home when Marg was finally sent home rather than right now, so I had a chat with my mother-in-law and she came to our aid like a trooper. I'd drop the kids at her place before I went to work and pick them up afterwards.
The first time I visited Marg in hospital I brought the kids with me. Big mistake. Marg and I both felt like throttling the little monsters by the time the visit was over. Still, lesson learned. I had a very firm discussion with them afterwards about hospital etiquette and how would they like to be chained to the stroller all the time we were there?
Subsequent visits were reasonably peaceful.
After a couple of weeks I was feeling sort of housebound and I just had to get out for the night, so I arranged for Cheryl, the sitter Marg normally uses, to come and take over for a few hours.
Cheryl rolled up and I was somewhat taken aback when I answered the door. I've always had this image in my head of Cheryl as a sweet young teenager and hadn't realised just how much she'd grown. She was a pretty, full-busted blonde. Previously when sitting for us she was as like to wear a tracksuit as not, or she'd have on baggy jeans and a sloppy top, both outfits being quite capable of hiding a burgeoning figure.
Tonight she was dressed in a flirty skirt, a very short flirty skirt in my opinion, and a blouse that was either bought too small or had shrunk in the wash. Or both. The buttons that were actually done up seemed to be under considerable strain, and there seemed to be too many buttons at the top of the blouse that weren't done up at all. I couldn't help wondering if they'd popped open under the strain and Cheryl not noticed, but there was no way I was game enough to comment.
For a young lass she had quite an impressive cleavage, and from what I could see, and I could see a lot, what there was of her bra was purely for decoration. It wasn't doing much to hide her bounty, which bobbed enticingly when she moved. And I'll swear I could see the edge of her areola. Not that I was looking, mind you.
Cheryl came bouncing in, giving me a casual, "Hi," and a wave and headed over to where the brats were playing on the floor. Then she bent over to chat with them.
She should have crouched down. I'd thought that skirt was too short and my assessment was reinforced when she bent over. The skirt rose high up her backside and for a heart-stopping moment I thought she was without any panties. Then it registered that she was wearing some sort of thong which effectively left her bottom bare. Her bottom? The damn things barely covered her pudenda. Not that I was looking.
I got the hell out of there and finished getting ready, but it seemed to me that every time I turned around Cheryl and the kids were there, with Cheryl leaning forward so that I could see her bra had simply shrugged and given up the struggle to hide her breasts. Or Cheryl would have her back to me and be leaning over the kids, effectively mooning me. If I'd been a were-wolf she'd have been in real trouble.
By the time I got out of the house I had to adjust my clothing, or a certain part of me would have been heading out the door long before the rest of me.
Before I headed off to the pub I dropped past the hospital to visit Marg. We chatted for a while and then I mentioned Cheryl.
"I don't get it," I lamented, after describing what had been going on. "She always struck me as a demure young girl and now this."
Marg was giggling.
"You poor stud, you," she giggled. "Cheryl has reached a point where she wants to get laid and she's seen this time alone with you as the perfect opportunity. I'll bet you find that when you get home the tits and ass display will recommence, showing what she's got and waiting to see what you do about it."
"You have got to be kidding," I groaned. "What does she think I am? A paedophile?"
"I doubt you need to worry about that," Marg told me. "If memory serves me correctly she's now eighteen. So what are you going to do?"
"What can I do? Continue to not notice what she's up to, I guess."
"Why not just take what she's offering?"
I blinked and gave Marg a startled look.
"You've got to be kidding."
"Not at all. You like sex and you've missed out for the last couple of weeks and it'll be another couple of weeks before I can come home. It's probably not healthy for you to go without for that length of time. If Cheryl is so eager to offer it would be an insult not to accept. You wouldn't want to insult the girl, would you?"
"But she's just a kid. She hasn't got the faintest idea of what to do."
"So teach her. You'll probably find it fun and she'll get some useful experience. Just make sure she is eighteen before you whip her panties off."
I continued to deny that there was any possibility of my trying to seduce Cheryl. Marg just laughed at me. Then went I kissed her goodbye she calmly grabbed a handful and nodded.
"Yes," she said, mockingly. "I can see you're too limp to help anyone further their sex education. Have fun."
I flushed and got the hell out. Now I really needed a drink.
I had my drink and socialised with my mates and didn't give another thought to Cheryl, waiting at home for me to return. I didn't waste any time thinking about her breasts and remembering how white they looked - just as white as her bottom I'd noticed. I didn't spend any time considering the fact that when I saw that skimpy bit of material nearly covering her mound, I hadn't noticed any fur, so she was probably completely smooth down there.
I put all that from my mind, not even remembering that I'd noticed the nubs of her nipples poking firmly against her blouse. I didn't bother wondering if her nipples were the same cherry red as her lips. Lips and nipples are supposed to be the same colour, but maybe she had lipstick on. I did idly wonder if girls used cosmetics to touch up the colour on their nipples, but decided probably not, as a man might object to the taste.
I just relaxed with my mates, stretching my drink out as I had to drive, and noting that the kids would now be in bed and probably asleep, leaving Cheryl curled up watching TV.
I eventually got home and sure enough, Cheryl was curled up on the couch watching TV. That was as expected. What wasn't as expected was the number of toys scattered around the front room. Including those infernal Lego pieces. I must have been mad to have bought those.
"Ah, Cheryl, you do know it's a house rule that the kids are supposed to clean up their toys before they go to bed?" I asked, feeling a little irritated.
Cheryl squeaked.
"Oh! You gave me a shock. I didn't hear you come in. Um, yes, I know the rule about the toys but they'd been so good I told them that I'd clear up for them. I just haven't got around to it. I'll do it now."
With that she turned around and started to pick up the toys. Bending over, I noticed. Not crouching down. Giving me a full view of a lovely white bottom. Why the hell she'd even bother to wear panties? It was a puzzlement.
I watched for a few moments, her bottom bouncing and flashing as she moved around. She didn't forget to turn to face me so that I got a decent view of her cleavage. All the way down to her belly button. I was prepared to swear that one more button had given up the struggle.
"Cheryl, how old are you?"
She stood up and looked at me, blushing slightly.
"Ah, eighteen," she said, biting her lip for a moment, before rushing on. "I know. Old enough to know better. I should have made the kids put their stuff away, or at least have tidied it up before you got home. Are you mad at me? Are you going to punish me?"
"No, I'm not mad at you," I said, a little startled. "Just a little surprised. As a matter of curiosity, just how would you suggest I punish you?"
She was back to chewing her lip and seemed to be considering. I wondered just what was going on in her devious little mind.
"Um, gee, I'm not sure. I've never really considered how a man would punish me if he was mad at me. Um, I guess you could always spank me."
I had to bite my tongue before I said something I'd regret. Spank her, she says. Well, I'm always open to a good suggestion.
I sat on the couch and indicated that she should bend over my knee. She did so, moving cautiously, suddenly a lot less sure of herself and what she'd suggested. With her across my knee I flicked her skirt up out the road, and now had that bottom she'd been flashing at close quarters.
Cheryl squeaked when her skirt was flicked up and hastily pushed it down to cover her bottom. I promptly swung her back onto her feet.
"If I'm going to spank you," I told her sternly, "then I'm going to do it properly. Now take your skirt off."
"Off?"
"Yes, off. Seeing you weren't willing to just have it pushed to the side you can now take it off."
With a lot of blushing the skirt came off and Cheryl found herself back across my knee. Now I took hold of the bits of string that presumably were meant to be panties and started pulling them down. There was a prompt protest of course.
"Wait," she squealed. "Why are you taking off my panties?"
"I prefer to spank your bare bottom," I said, quite reasonably.
"But they're just a thong. They leave my bottom bare. You don't need to take them off."
"Yes, I do," I contradicted. "If my finger got caught on one of these skinny little straps I might break a finger or tear the material. I'm sure you wouldn't want that to happen."
I also continued pushing the thong down as I explained, letting them drop to her ankles. She gave an irritated kick and they slid right off. I was just about to commence the spanking when I noticed an item on the floor that still hadn't been picked up. A bottle of baby oil. What the hell?
"Before I commence, fetch me that bottle of baby oil," I ordered. "I'll rub some of that on afterwards. It'll help ease the stinging."
Cheryl scuttled across to get the oil, hands low in front of her, covering her nudity. Then she forgot herself and bent over to pick up the oil. Quite a view. As she came back I shook my head sadly.
"Cheryl, you look a little silly with just that blouse on. You'd better take it off. You won't be nearly as self-conscious when you're nude. It's the half-nudity that makes you so aware of it."
Damned if she didn't look at me, blush, and proceed to take off her blouse and bra, and I am quite willing to admit that, nude, she had nothing to worry about. She saw my eyes run over her and the appreciation on my face and I could see when she switched from being nude to feeling naked and vulnerable.
I didn't give her a chance to panic. I reached up and cupped her elbow, using it to gently bend over my knee again.
I rested my hand on her bottom prior to spanking, looking at the bottle of baby oil. I reached for it and poured a little onto her bottom and started rubbing it in.
"Wh-what are doing?" stammered Cheryl.
"Oh, I just thought I'd rub some oil on your bottom first," I said, carefully massaging the oil into her cheeks. I poured on a little more oil and continued rubbing.
