Stealing Jeff
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High School Part 7 - Life With Jeff free porn video
High School Part 7 - Life With Jeff
[In which Jeff rescues Shaun, they begin living together, Shaun finds
he has an aptitude for waitressing, and ponders his future.]
After I'd walked about half a block, I recognized my predicament. I
certainly wasn't going to go back to Mr. J's, it would be a long,
cold walk back to my house and to the fury of my Mother, and under my
coat I was naked - so none of my options seemed especially good. Just
then I sensed a car pulling up at the curb next to me and then the
horn honked. I was in a panic, assuming that it was Mr. J coming
after me, and I started to run down the sidewalk as fast as I could
in an attempt to elude him. But then I heard a familiar voice calling
from the car, "Shaun, what's wrong with you, are you okay?" There
must be a divine spirit in this world - it was Jeff!
I hurried over to Jeff's car, opened the door and jumped into the
passenger's seat. Slouching down I asked Jeff to drive out of that
neighborhood quick. He just looked at me a little strangely but did
as I asked. Neither of us said anything while the car was moving but
when Jeff found a quiet spot in a strip mall, parked the car and
turned to me and asked me what the problem was, I burst into tears.
Jeff moved over and put his arm around my shoulders while I sobbed
and sobbed, finally just wearing myself out and just sitting there
trembling and with an occasional sob or tear. It took me several
hours to describe all the things that had happened to me since he
left for college. At one point I think Jeff didn't believe me till I
opened my coat and showed him the bruises that Mr. J's hands had left
on my naked body.
After I finished my story, I was silent for a few minutes and then
began sobbing again as I wondered what would happen to me. Finally,
Jeff looked at me and said, "Shaun, uh, maybe this is going to sound
dumb, but if you want you can come and stay with me for awhile till
we figure things out." I looked at him in amazement as he continued,
explaining that he was on his way back to college after coming home
for several days before Thanksgiving and it was pure coincidence that
he had been driving along that street just as I ran from Mr. J's
house. And it turns out that he's been living in an off-campus two-
bedroom apartment and that his roommate had just flunked out so he
had room for me. I was silent for several seconds and then threw my
arms around him and kissed him, and told him that he was the most
wonderful person in the world, and I'd be really, really grateful if
I could come and spend a couple of days with him. At the words,
"..... couple of days .....", Jeff got a kind of funny look on his
face but I didn't think anything about it at the time.
So Jeff drove back to my neighborhood and parked several houses away
and got out of the car and snuck through several backyards to
approach my house without being seen while he peered into the barrage
window. When he saw that my Mother's car wasn't parked in the garage,
he came back to his car and drove up and parked in the driveway of my
house and, following my instructions, went in the house and up to my
bedroom where he grabbed all the clothing and personal items that he
could quickly stuff into a couple of trash bags and ran back to his
car, tossed the trash bags into the back seat and was about to start
the engine when I said, "One more thing. You have to go back and go
into the family room and get the Mark Twain biography from the top
shelf in the bookcase." Jeff was, like, "You're fucking crazy, you
want me to take another chance at getting caught in your house?"
"Just do it. I'll explain later", I said as I lay back in the seat,
exhausted. Well, even though he wasn't happy about it, Jeff did as I
asked and was back in the car in less than a minute and wasted no
time in starting his car and getting out of our neighborhood. I think
I slept most of the time during the four-hour drive to his apartment
and I don't remember a lot except for him half-supporting, half-
carrying me up one flight of stairs, helping me into a bed and
covering me up, before I went to sleep.
I was awakened the following afternoon by the sound of Jeff returning
to the apartment after class. He came into my bedroom, saw that my
eyes were open, and said, "Good to see that you're back among the
living. Want to get out of bed?"
"Yeah", I replied, "That night's sleep made me feel a lot better, and
man am I hungry."
"Night's sleep", he asked, "You've been asleep for three solid days."
I was, like, "Three days? I can't believe I slept that long, but
..... OH SHIT! My Mother. She's got to be looking for me!"
"Your Mother isn't a problem anymore", Jeff said, and told me how,
after he'd gotten me back to his apartment that night, he had called
his Mom and told her the whole story, and asked her to keep an eye
out to see what my Mother did. I guess my Mother didn't do anything
the first day but the second day she drove over to Mr. J's house and,
according to the gossip throughout the neighborhood, confronted him
in the front yard and started screaming at him that she knew that he
had molested me, and he'd probably kidnapped me, and she wanted to
search his house. Just about that time Mrs. J returns from her
vacation and gets into the conversation and wants to know what right
Mother has to stand in their front yard and talk to her husband like
that. And pretty soon the three of them were all screaming at each
other while the neighbors were getting an earful. And then Mr. J
goes and hides in the house with Mrs. J screaming after him that
she's going to, "..... divorce his fucking, child molesting ass
....." And then Mrs. J calls my Mother some kind of "..... perverted
pimp ....." and tells her that she's going to go into her house and
come back out with a baseball bat and knock her fucking head off if
Mother is still there when she comes out.
So I guess my Mother got the message and drove back to Jeff's house
and confronted Mrs. V and started yelling at her, and Mrs. V calmly
explained that I was safe, and that she wasn't going to tell my
Mother where I was, and if my Mother ever came on her property again
or tried to get in touch with me, that she'd go to the police and
swear out an affidavit describing how my Mother had treated me. I
guess Mother finally understood what her situation was and Mrs. V
told Jeff that my Mother just kind of looked defeated and slunk off
to her house after that. "So I guess you don't have to worry about
her", Jeff finished. Man, this was way too much for me to think about
at one time so I just looked up at Jeff and asked, "So, what kind of
food do you have in this place?" Jeff left the bedroom and came back
with some soda, chips, sandwiches and warmed up pizza - all of which
I eagerly ate before snuggling back under the covers and falling
asleep again.
That was pretty much the way I spent the next several days, sleeping
and eating a lot and just lying in bed and thinking about things as I
rested and relaxed and tried to get back to a more normal frame of
mind. Finally I decided that I'd spent enough time recovering and got
dressed - well, "dressed" in a pair of heavy woolen socks and a huge
sweatshirt that came down to my knees that Jeff scrounged up for me -
and came out into the apartment's living room and talked to Jeff, and
watched TV, and played some cards. Gradually over the next month, I
became more and more active, taking over the cleaning, cooking and
laundry responsibilities - but I still didn't feel, well, like,
"normal." One night we were sitting on the sofa and watching some
reality show and Jeff looked over at me and said, "I could do that
for you if you'd like."
I realized that I had my hands up inside the sweatshirt, playing with
my breasts. I looked over at Jeff and just said, "Uh, thanks, but,
uh, I'm not sure that I'm ready to have anyone else touch me just
yet." Jeff just nodded and we went back to watching TV.
Finally, after about three months had passed, I felt well enough that
I thought that I could start venturing outside the apartment - but
then I ran into another setback. I'd just been wearing socks and a
couple of big old sweaters and sweatshirts around the apartment and
I'd have to put on some better clothes to leave the apartment. But
when I tried on the clothes that Jeff had gathered up in a rush from
my bedroom at the house, almost none of them fit me. It wasn't that
Jeff had grabbed the wrong clothes, it was, well, it was that my
shape had changed in the six months since I had last worn these
clothes just before Mother started dressing me in the maid's
uniforms. It wasn't that I had gotten fat or anything. Well, I had
gained a little weight in the three months that I hadn't left the
apartment, but I was still only at about 145 which was less than the
155 I had ballooned to immediately after graduation. I was like,
well, more like my weight had redistributed itself. My upper body and
shoulders were slimmer, and my waist had actually gotten slightly
smaller, dropping from a 36" to a 34". But above and below my waist?
Well, my breasts were larger and fuller now. But the real change was
in my hips and thighs. My hips were much wider now. And six months
ago my thighs were kind of big, but now they rubbed against each
other as I walked. And worse, when I walked now, even without any
shoes on, my hips had this rolling motion that emphasized their size.
So I'm standing there in my bedroom, surrounded by a pile of all my
old clothes that didn't fit me and looking in the mirror at the
reflection of a body I hardly recognized, when Jeff walked into the
room. "So, what's the problem", he asked.
"It's well, my clothes don't fit, and my body looks different, and
I'm ..... I'm ..... I'm all ugly now", I stammered and began to cry.
Jeff just looked at me for a second and then came over and put his
arms around me and drew me against his body as he whispered in my
ear, "Shaun, Shaun, you're not ugly. You've got a beautiful body. You
just developed a few curves", and he reached down and cupped my
buttocks and gently rubbed their silky softness. I looked up at him
and all of a sudden I'm helping him remove his clothes and then
within several seconds we were snuggled up against each other in bed
and enjoying the feel of each other's bodies, and he began playing
with my breasts, and shortly I was down between his legs, giving him
a blowjob as he groaned in pleasure. Afterwards we both sort of fell
asleep in each other's arms before waking up after dark and ordering
out for a pizza and having a quick meal before we jumped back in bed.
The next morning as we awoke and were lying in bed together, Jeff
just told me that I had developed a body "built for comfort?" I asked
him what that meant, and he showed me - several times.
So anyway, I needed new clothes and I couldn't go out to buy them
myself so I sent Jeff out with several hundred dollars from the
"stash" that I had been hiding between the pages of the Mark Twain
book and he brought back enough that I could dress myself and then go
out and do some serious shopping with the rest of the money. The bras
weren't a problem - a size 38D fit me well now, but I did buy a few
in a fancier style than Jeff had bought for me. The combination of a
narrow waist and wide hips was more of a problem but after a little
searching I found several slacks and very nice dresses that fit me
well - I did stay away from the form-fitting jeans - well, except for
one pair that had Jeff so turned on that I thought he was going to
jump me right there in the store - and after several days of
shopping, ended up with a wardrobe that nicely fit and showed off my
newly curvy figure to good advantage.
After several months of rest and recovery from what had been
happening to me back home. I decided that I should start contributing
to the cost of our apartment and food. Jeff tried to talk me out of
it but I began looking through the classified ads in the paper and in
the online websites for some job that I could qualify for. Well, the
operative word was "qualify", I did have a high school diploma but
none of the other special skills that were required in the help
wanted advertisements I was looking at. And then one day I saw an
advertisement for a waitress position from a small nearby restaurant
that I thought I might qualify for so I called the place up and they
scheduled me for an interview in two days. On the day of the
interview I was really nervous and my stomach was even a little
upset, but I made sure that my hair and makeup were okay and I put on
some clothes that made me look "nice", but not too "nice", if you
know what I mean, and I went to the interview and they hired me on
the spot. When Jeff came back from class that afternoon and saw the
big smile on my face, he just looked at me and said, "Looks like you
got the job." I just smiled
Oh man, the first week or so at the restaurant was a disaster and I'm
surprised that they didn't fire me. My waitressing skills were, like,
almost nonexistent. I kept dropping things, and spilled coffee on one
guy, and forgetting who had ordered what and messing up orders. And
once I got confused while entering ordering information into the
touch-screen display and even managed to crash the restaurant's
computer system - something that no one had ever been able to do
before, the manager informed me. But a couple of older women who
worked there took pity on me and taught me how to do my job properly,
and the manager didn't fire me, and eventually I got to be pretty
good at the job. It even got to the point where I knew most of the
regulars, and I started getting reasonable tips, and even a couple of
requests for dates - which I turned down of course - Jeff thought
that was pretty funny. But after about seven months, I was ready to
move on. Since I was the newest hire, I got assigned the worst hours,
and the manager of the place took about half of my tips - he said
that it was for the cooks and bus boys but I think that he kept them
for himself. So I kept checking the help wanted ads for a nearby
restaurant that seemed like it might be a better place to work and
eventually I saw an ad that looked right, I went in for an interview,
they took one look at me, asked me a couple of questions about my
experience, and hired me on the spot. I guess I had a big smile on my
face as I walked into the apartment last night because Jeff looked up
from the textbook he was reading and said, "Well, you look like
something good happened to you today." Yep", I replied, "I'm Hooter's
newest waitress!"
I was kind of nervous the first couple of days I worked at Hooter's -
the chain does have a kind of risqu? reputation, but dressed in the
skimpy and very tight orange shorts and the tight, low-cut top that
exposed a good part of my tits, I looked at least as good as the
other girls. Some of the other waitresses were pretty forward with
the customers, kneeling down so their breasts rubbed on the guys head
or shoulders, and giving them a good look down into the top of their
uniform, and playfully touching the guys on the shoulders or arms as
they took their orders. Maybe it was from the maid training Mother
put me through but I was never comfortable getting that familiar with
the customers and always acted a little shy and reserved, and kept a
little distance between me and my customers. But after a couple of
weeks I got over my nervousness and got to know some of the regulars
pretty well and started getting some good tips. I guess some of the
regulars mentioned me to their friends as one day a good-looking
young guy came in and asked the hostess if he could be served by "the
shy girl with the really great figure" and she sent him over to one
of my tables.
Of course, Hooter's being Hooter's, we did have to put up with a lot
of stares and comments about how "nice" we looked. And I even got to
the point where I'd kid around with the patrons a little in the hopes
of getting bigger tips. But I had to draw the line somewhere and once
when a guy tried to take his tip and slip it down into my shorts I
slapped his hand away. I mean, bending down or leaning forward so a
guy can get a better view of my cleavage is one thing, but having
someone fondling my private parts is another thing - especially since
I didn't have any "private parts." But that incident started me
thinking about what direction I wanted my life to take. Like, I'm
really happy right now living with Jeff and he even gave me a small
engagement ring on my birthday. But I've been thinking about what it
would be like to be more of a "real woman" if you know what I mean.
And there are some nearby clinics that do that kind of reassignment
surgery. Oh well, it's not a decision I have to make right away.
But with the small salary and large tips that I was making as a
waitress at Hooters, and since Jeff was doing really well in his
studies (I was soooo proud of him) and had been given a part-time job
as an instructor, we were able to move out of the two-bedroom
apartment that we had been living in. I mean, the apartment was okay,
but it was close to the campus and several of the other apartments in
the building were occupied by guys that spent all their time partying
and throwing up in the hallways, and stuff like that. So I had spent
some time looking for a nicer rental for us and ended up finding this
duplex where we could have the whole second floor for not a lot more
than the apartment was costing us, and Jeff liked my choice, so we
signed the lease. I spent the next month before we moved in cleaning,
and painting the new apartment, and looking at lots of decorating
books and magazines to help me choose just the right colors and
furniture and accessories, and stuff like that - and then we moved
in. Gosh, this was so great - I mean, it was still just a rented
second floor of a duplex - but it was really the first place that
Jeff and I had picked out together, and it looked so really nice
after I was finished decorating it - and it was, well, it was "our
place."
Jeff and I had made friends with a number of other couples at the
college and we began to have a more active social life. We usually
got together with the other couples at least once a week, and since
all of us were on a tight budget, most of our get-togethers were,
like, spaghetti dinners, and just playing cards, and the guys
watching a football game on TV while the girls cooked and cleaned up
after the meal, and just talked about girl stuff. The only times that
I was uncomfortable was when the other girls got talking about having
kids and starting a family and when they were planning on getting
pregnant. I got kind of quiet and didn't participate in those
discussions.
But other than that, life with Jeff was good.
(the end)
Mila
- 17.02.2022
- 12
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