After The Energists: Rebooted Teen YearsChapter 23: Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) free porn video
Mike’s House, Bryanston
6:15pm, Sunday, February 20, 1979
“That was a great dinner, Mrs. Nevins,” Lynette said as she used a piece of my mother’s homemade bread to sop up the last of the gravy on her plate. “My mom rarely uses a crock pot to cook meals, so that was the first time I’ve had a roast beef, potatoes, and carrots done like that. It was delicious.”
“Thanks, Lynette,” my mom replied as she turned back to the table with a warm apple pie in her hands. “These guys around here just take good cooking for granted, it seems. It’s nice to get a compliment every so often.”
“Michael,” Lynette chuckled out as she gave me a dig in the ribs. “You better give your mom compliments on her cooking.”
After partly choking on the piece of bread I was eating, I swatted Lynette’s hand and huffed out, “I tell her all the time how much I love her meals. She just knows that I’m not a super fan of crock pot meals, as the veggies tend to get too mushy for my liking.”
“He’s right, Lynette,” my mom replied as she started to cut the apple pie. “I still like using it when I feel especially lazy about cooking. Crock pots are good for getting it ready, and then you can forget about it until it’s done.”
“She won’t be hurting for compliments after we get through with her apple pie,” I said as I took the small plate from my mom’s hands and passed it onto Lynette. “Here you go, Volcano.”
“Thank you, good sir. It sure smells heavenly, Mrs. Nevins.”
“Would you like some ice cream or maybe some cheddar cheese with your pie, Lynette?” my mom asked.
“Whatever is easiest to get will be great!”
“Grab the cheese from the fridge, Mike,” my dad said as he watched his wife dish out the apple pie to two of his kids, their two house guests and himself.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, which earned me a strange little look from my dad as my use of ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ wasn’t used very often before my return adventure as a sixteen-year-old. “I’ll get the ice cream from the freezer, too.”
“Thanks, Mike,” my mom said as she finally got a chance to sit down for a moment after passing out the apple pie.
After handing the half-pound block of cheddar to my dad, I heard him ask, “Lynette, would you like a chunk of this cheese?”
“I’ve never had cheese with apple pie before, so, uh, sure ... uh, yes, please.”
“You’ll like it,” I said as I returned to the kitchen table from the deep freeze with the Vanilla ice cream.
The chatter at the table died down as all six of us were enjoying my mother’s pie, cheese and/or ice cream. My sister, Mary and cousin, Dorothy Jean were the first to finish, and they got up to head into the den to watch TV.
Lynette watched my sister and cousin leave, and then nudged me with her elbow. She whispered, “Aren’t they going to help your mom with things here?”
“Doesn’t look like they’re volunteering, that’s for sure,” I whispered back. “My mom may call them to help with the dishes, just wait a minute or so.”
“But we can do them, can’t we?” she whispered back at me.
I put my left arm around her shoulders and rubbed her upper back at her gesture and said, “Just sit here, relax and let your dinner settle.” I then raised my voice so my parents could hear me as I added, “I’ll get to them after I snag one more piece of that pie. Do you want another piece, too?”
I did that for a reason, which became apparent sooner than even I expected.
“Don’t even think about offering to do the dishes, Mike and Lynette. You did the breakfast dishes,” my mother said as she handed me the pie plate. She then yelled out, “Mary, come in here and get started with these dishes before you get too engrossed with your TV show.”
“But Mom!” my older sister cried out from the den.
“No buts, your brother and Lynette did all the breakfast dishes. Come on, hop to it!”
Lynette nudged me again with her elbow and grinned as she realized what I just did. She then stole a forkful of my apple pie off my plate and said to my dad, “You were right, Mr. Nevins. That cheddar cheese really did hit the spot with this apple pie.”
“You can have that last piece, you little thief,” I said as I watched her stuff her mouth with a big forkful of my pilfered pie.
“Tastes better off your plate,” she mumbled through her mouthful of warm pie.
“If you keep taking bites off my plate, I’ll just have to get that last piece for myself, then.”
“Go ‘head,” she laughed out between chews.
“Don’t call me a ‘gourd-head’,” I replied to Lynette with a stern look on my face.
“What? I didn’t call you anything,” she quickly fired back before she broke into a big grin when she realized I was making fun of her mumbled words. She then made a fist with her left hand, raised it up at me and chuckled out, “I’ll bust you in your gourd head, if you don’t behave yourself.”
“Did you hear that Mom, Dad?” I cried out in playful indignation. “She just threatened to hit me, and I have a major boo-boo on my forehead, too.”
“With your stupid word play, you’re lucky that that is all she’s done to you so far,” my dad responded. He raised his left hand up like he was going to backhand me and added, “You get him from that side, Lynette and I’ll block his escape on this side, okay?”
“I like this,” Lynette laughed as she playfully boxed my shoulder and head, just above my left ear.
“I don’t!” I cried out. When I saw Mary sulking back into the kitchen to start with the dishes, I called out, “Help me, Mary, help me!”
Normally, my sister would have at least pretended to come to my rescue, but in her sullen mood, she simply mumbled, “You’re on your own, kiddo. I’ve got this mess to clean up.”
Even Lynette was taken aback by my sister’s words and attitude, as she immediately stopped her playful attack on me and sat back in her chair. When I noticed my mother shift in her chair and raise an eyebrow, I reached down for Lynette’s hand and softly said, “Come on, Lynette. Let’s head into the living room.”
As we walked through the den to the living room, we barely heard my mother light into my sister with, “I told you earlier that it was your job to do the dinner dishes. Don’t act all put upon now that I had to remind you.”
Lynette raised her eyes at me as she sat down on our gold colored couch and whispered, “I wouldn’t have minded doing those dishes, you know.”
“I know,” I replied, “but my mom told me after I finished with the breakfast dishes, that she was going to tell Mary it was her job after dinner, because she and Dorothy Jean hadn’t done a thing but laze around since Friday night.”
Lynette laid her head on my shoulder as we simply cuddled on the end of the couch. Neither of us could see the TV from our vantage point and right then, I really didn’t care if I watched 60 Minutes or any show that might have come on.
“I still feel bad about not getting up and doing the dishes,” Lynette softly said after a she curled her legs up on the couch and adjusted her head so it was in my lap. She sighed as I gave her scalp a combination, gentle massage and scratch. Without opening her eyes, she innocently added, “I’d much rather be doing this though, than those dinner dishes.”
“You think?” I chuckled out and goosed her in the ribs, which caused her to jump and then slap my thigh as she cried, “Don’t do that! I was almost at the point of dreaming, dreaming about you and me. Now, you’ve done gone and ruined it.”
“I’m sure that dream will return,” I replied as she put her head back down, and I started to rub on her shoulders. Lynette once more sighed in contentment as I kneaded her right shoulder and side of her neck. I was a tiny bit surprised to feel what appeared to be a bra strap as I worked on her shoulder, since I knew she wasn’t wearing one last night when we got to my house. She didn’t have one on at breakfast either, if I remembered correctly.
That train of thought soon vanished as she rolled over on her other side and asked, “Can you do the same to this side now, please?”
I just let my fingers reply for me as I used my left fingers to scratch her peaceful head and my right digits to rub on her shoulder. I nodded to my mom, who came into the living room with a cup of tea and sat down in the arm chair opposite the couch. She picked up her Robin Cook novel off the end table, and smiled at me as I gently ran my fingers through Lynette’s hair and over her upper back and shoulder.
Lynette was almost purring like a little kitten as I alternated scratching and rubbing my right hand over her back. Rarely did I have the patience in my prior teenage life to simply sit and enjoy the quiet, but I relished this time watching my mom read, and my dad as he watched Andy Rooney’s ranting monolog at the end of 60 Minutes.
My mom snapped me out of my reverie when she asked Lynette, who had popped her eyes open to look around as well, “So how did you sleep last night, dear?”
“Pretty good, Mrs. Nevins, considering it being a strange bed and a somewhat crazy situation,” Lynette softly replied. “But if Mike keeps this up, I’ll probably fall asleep right here on this couch.” With that, she turned her head up and smiled at me before rolling it back down onto my lap.
“My boys told me you’re a pretty good piano player. Are you able to play by ear or uh, do you need sheet music?” my mom asked.
“I’m can do both,” Lynette said and shifted her body in preparation for sitting up beside me on the couch. “If I’ve heard a song a few times, I can usually picture the music in my head and go from there, but if given something new or out of my normal music, like when I accompany the choir, I rely on the sheet music. Do you play?”
“I use to play a good bit, but I rarely sit down at the ivories, now,” my mom softly replied. “I played mostly old Irish folk songs or church music, things you youngsters probably don’t listen to all that often.”
“I liked listening to you play and sing some of those songs, Mom,” I added.
“Can you play a few of them for me, for us?” Lynette spritely asked.
“Oh I, uh, I’m not sure about that. I think I’ll pass.”
“Please, Mrs. Nevins, you’ll do fine, I’m sure,” the now fully recharged blonde sitting beside me pleaded.
“Well ... I guess I can try to play a few of those songs, if you really want,” my mom replied. Just as she was pushing up out of her chair, the lights in our house flickered, the TV turned off and on, and then everything went dark.
“Whoa!” Lynette exclaimed as she gripped my legs with her left hand. “What happened?”
“I’m guessing our luck ran out in this ice storm, and we’ve joined the ranks of the powerless,” I replied.
My dad then asked, “Ailly, (short for Aileen) do you have those candles handy? I’ll get the flashlight from on top of the refrigerator.”
“When you get that light, I’ll be able to hunt up those candles,” my mother called out in the darkness. “Hang tight, Mike and Lynette, we’ll have a candle or two for you in a second.”
“I’m good, Mom. Can I help you with things?”
“Nah, just sit tight and ... there we go,” she replied and when my dad turned on the small flashlight, my mother started to walk towards him in the kitchen. “I’ve got some good candles in the pantry, so hold on and I’ll get you a couple.”
“Looks like the power is out for everybody,” Lynette said as she turned and looked out the living room window. “All the houses are completely dark, now.”
“I’d bet a tree limb gave up the ghost with all the ice on it, and crashed down over a main power line, somewhere,” I said as I joined her in staring out into the darkness. “I’m pretty amazed we’ve had power for this long.”
We both turned around when we saw a dim light flickering our way from the kitchen. As it grew in intensity, we both pushed off the couch and walked towards my mom who was carrying two lighted candles, with holders in her hands.
“Here you go,” she said as we met at the large opening between the den and living room. “These should last you for the evening.” Just then, a brighter light materialized in the kitchen as my dad lit an oil lamp and adjusted the wick to get a good solid glow going.
“Do you want to use this, Mike?” he asked as he carried it from the kitchen into the den.
“Nah, these candles are good. You can use that lamp to lighten the den, kitchen area,” I replied. “Did you see the weather forecast for tomorrow, or uh, any school cancelations?”
“Looks like you not only missed church this morning, but you’ll have another day, maybe two around here,” my dad said as he set the oil lamp on the dining room hutch. “All the schools in the London area will be closed tomorrow. It should warm up enough to start melting this ice late tomorrow afternoon, but then the temperature is supposed to drop back below freezing after the sun sets. I’m guessing we’ll be homebound until at least Tuesday.”
“I wonder what my parents are up to, down in Guelph,” Lynette softly asked as she held a candle in her hands. “Do you think they’ll be able to get home, tomorrow?”
“Not sure, Lynette,” my dad answered. “I suspect the road crews will be out on the 401 with their salt and sand trucks, so that might be drivable. However, getting from the 401, onto secondary roads and then to the back roads? I doubt they’ll be in good driving condition.”
“Do you mind if I give them a call at my grandma’s house?” she asked.
“Goodness, no, dear,” my mother replied. “Call them and talk for as long as you need.”
“Won’t your phone be off, without power?”
“One of the good things with having this old school, rotary phone,” my mother replied, “is it still works when the power goes out. As long as there’s a dial tone, it’s powered through the telephone line.”
“Oh, cool,” Lynette chimed as I led her around to our phone. “We have battery backup in our phones, when the power goes out.”
“Here you are, Volcano,” I said as I left her at the small table in our front foyer, and then walked on through the den, into the kitchen to get a large glass of water. After pouring myself a glass from the pitcher, I held it up for Lynette to see and asked, “Want one?” as she waited with the phone receiver at her ear.
Lynette nodded affirmatively to my question and then I barely heard her say, “Hello, Grandma. How are things at your house?”
I tuned Lynette’s conversation out as I poured her a glass of water and refilled the pitcher before placing it back into the fridge. As I walked back into the den, dining room area, I heard Mary ask, “Mom, Dad, do you want to play euchre with Dorothy Jean and me? I’ll clear off the dining room table, if you’ll play.”
“Why don’t you and Lynette play against them?” my mom replied to my sister.
“I’m kinda tired,” I responded to my mom’s suggestion. “Plus, I don’t think Lynette knows how to play euchre. She’s never joined in, in any of our lunch time games at school.” When I walked over towards her as she talked to one of her parents on the telephone, I whispered softly to her, “Want to play cards?”
She smiled at me and mouthed back, “Thanks, but no,” as she shook her blonde hair in reply.
I gave her a smile and wink, and then turned back to the others in the den area. “We’re going to pass on cards right now. You four can deal them out.”
I leaned on my dad’s recliner as I watched my parents take on my sister and cousin at the dining room table. I barely registered Lynette’s final good byes to her parents, and soon felt her nuzzle up beside me. As I handed her her glass of water, I asked, “All good with the parental units and your grandmother?”
She lightly chuckled at my choice of words for her parents and replied, “They’re safe and sound at my grandma’s house. They lost power for about six hours earlier this morning, but they have it back on now.”
“What are their plans for coming back, did they say?” my dad asked Lynette before he cried out, “Ailly, what did you play that Ace for? I had that trick.”
Lynette was about to answer my dad’s question, when my mom, grinned and slammed out the Jack of Clubs, followed by the Jack of Spades, which were the two highest cards during that hand. “That is why I played the Ace,” my mom replied to my dad’s outburst. “I almost went alone on that hand, but I didn’t have good, off suit cards, and hoped you could get those two tricks.”
“Okay,” my dad replied with a smile. “Well done, then.”
“I don’t understand what just happened?” Lynette softly said as she watched the last three tricks in that hand of cards.
“I’ll explain how to play the game to you at school sometime. Basically though, euchre is two against two and you’re trying to win three of the five tricks, the single card battles, to earn one point for your team. If you win all five tricks, you and your partner earn two points. Watch as Dorothy Jean deals next.”
After each player was dealt five cards, the ‘Ten of Diamonds’ was turned up. I then softly said, “Diamonds are the ‘trump-suit’ or best cards to have.” We then heard my dad, Mary and my mom say, “Pass,” followed by Dorothy Jean picking up that Ten of Diamonds, and throwing away an unknown card from her hand.
Dorothy Jean then grinned and said, “I’m going alone, Mary.”
“What’s happening now?” Lynette asked.
“Dorothy Jean believes she has good enough cards, lots of Diamonds, to win all five tricks by herself,” I whispered back. “If she does, she’ll earn four points for her team. Mary just laid her cards down and will be a spectator this hand as my mom and dad work together to hopefully win a trick from Dorothy Jean.”
We watched my dad frown and play with two of the five cards in his hand as he debated which card to lead out. I whispered in Lynette’s ear, “Usually, a team only has one chance to prevent their opponent from claiming all five tricks and it is on this first round of cards where you control the suit played out.
“Here goes, Mother,” my dad called out as he tossed out the King of Hearts.
“Is that the best lead card you can play, George?” my mother asked as she frowned at seeing that card and reworked her own hidden cards.
“Sorry, I’m not much help I’m afraid,” my dad said with a dejected look on his face.
After fidgeting with her cards for a few seconds, my mom surprised everyone, including me, by playing the Nine of Diamonds. That was the lowest suited or trump card in this hand. Immediately, Dorothy Jean let out a deep groan and my mom knew she had used her one trump card wisely.
“Dag nabbit!” Dorothy Jean said as she tossed out the Ace of Hearts. “That was the one card, the ONE card, and the blasted Nine took it.” She then laid down her other four cards to show the two red Jacks, and the Ace and Ten of Diamonds, which immediately claimed at least three of the four remaining tricks being the three highest trump cards in that hand.
“What happened there?” Lynette asked as my mom and dad threw down there cards and my mom said, “We got lucky.”
“In euchre, the highest two cards are the ‘colored Jacks’. Diamonds were trump last game, so the Jack of Diamonds was the top card or ‘Right Bauer’ and the Jack of Hearts was second best or the ‘Left Bauer’ card. Then the power goes Ace, King, Queen, Ten and Nine of Diamonds or that trump suit. After that, it’s simply goes by highest off-suit cards, Ace to Nine.”
“So, uh, how did your mom win that first set of cards?” Lynette asked.
“Well, dear,” my mom replied, “George played the King of Hearts, so if you had any Hearts in your hand, you have to play one, or ‘follow suit’. Because I didn’t have any Hearts in my hand, I was allowed to play any card I wanted, and I decided to play my one ‘Trump’ card, the Nine of Diamonds. I was hoping Dorothy Jean had a Heart, which she did because regardless of what Heart she played, my Nine of Diamonds would beat it, so we’d win that trick.”
“But why didn’t she play the Jack of Hearts, and win that trick?”
“The same colored Jack as the trump card becomes that trump suit. So, Lynette,” my dad said, “the Jack of Hearts became a ‘special Diamond’ like card for that hand.”
“So Dorothy Jean couldn’t play the Jack of Hearts because uh, she had another Heart, the Ace, in her hand?” Lynette haltingly offered in hopes she was picking up the rules.
“You got it, Volcano,” I replied and gave her a side body hug as a reward. “Both my mom and dad got real lucky with their cards. If Dorothy Jean had any other Ace card but that Heart, she probably would have won all five tricks and earned four points for her team. As it played, Dorothy Jean and Mary only earned one point from that great set of cards.”
“I’m starting to understand but uh, I’d still screw up and play the wrong card a fair bit, I’m sure,” she said with a smile. “It seems like there are some neat strategies involved in this game, which I haven’t gotten, just yet.”
“Oh, yeah,” I replied, “that is why you’ll hear partners fussing at each other, because they think their partner made a wrong play.”
“Like your dad did to your mom ... that previous, uh, hand?”
“Ding, ding!” I replied and gave her another side-body hug. “Sometimes the ‘wrong’ move is the right move, when you are loaded with good cards.”
We watched my dad deal out the cards and turn over the Jack of Clubs, which earned a “Good boy!” shout from my dad. However, as soon as he picked up his cards from the table, his facial expression told me he didn’t have diddly-squat in his hand to go with that ‘TOP’ card. After the three other players ‘passed’, my dad tapped his fingers on the table for a few moments before he reached for the Jack and flipped it face down, while saying “Can’t do it.”
“What happened there?” Lynette softly asked me.
“Watch and I’ll explain it as they play out this hand, okay?”
“Pass,” my sister said as she rearranged her five cards.
A grin arose on my mother’s face and she calmly said, “Spades, and I’ll play it alone.” My dad tossed his cards down and smiled at my mom.
“Okay, Lynette,” I whispered as my sister played with her cards, trying to decide which one to lead with. “My dad obviously didn’t have a good ‘Club’ hand and declined or ‘turned down’ that Jack of Clubs. Then each player in order has a chance to name a different suit of cards as that hand’s trump suit. Mary passed or declined to name a suit, so my mom had the next chance, and she called, ‘Spades’...”
“ ... And by going alone, she is playing against Mary and Dorothy Jean, without your dad’s help, right?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Good stuff!” I reaffirmed her understanding of that term.
We watched as my mom played the Queen of Spades on Mary’s Ace of Diamonds to claim the first trick. She then led out with the Ace of Spades, followed by the King, then the Jack of Spades to win those three tricks, as she knew that the Jack of Clubs or the second highest card was ‘buried’ in the unused pile, since my dad had turned it down to start the game.
“Come on, Aileen, show us a good card,” my dad cried out with glee as he waited to see if my mom had a winning four point card or not.
The grin on my mom’s face told me she had a winner and was enjoying the moment. She then gaily announced, “And the score is now, six to one, for us old-timers!” as she dropped the Ace of Hearts on the table. With all the trump cards played, my mom knew her Ace was indeed, a four-point card.
“Nuts!” Dorothy Jean said as she threw down the King of Hearts.
“They gotta be cheatin’,” my sister Mary chuckled out as she laid down the King of Clubs.
“It’s not cheating if you get the cards dealt to you,” my mom laughed and pushed the pile of cards over to Mary, who shuffled them up and dealt them out.
“Well done, Mrs. Nevins,” Lynette said as she watched my dad adjust his counters to show six points.
“If you hadn’t of made it Spades,” Dorothy Jean lamented as Mary slowly dealt out the cards for the next hand, “I was going to make it Hearts, as I had both Bauers, and the King and Ten of Hearts.”
“Hate it for you,” my mom chuckled in reply to her niece’s wishful, ‘what-if’.
Just then, Lynette yawned as we watched the four of them examine their cards, with the King of Hearts turned up as the trump card. I gave her a little squeeze and asked, “Do you want to watch the rest of this game or head upstairs and listen to the radio?”
“Can we head upstairs? I’d really like to grab another shower, if, uh, you have any hot water without the power being on.”
“Mom, we’re going to run upstairs and listen to my radio, okay?” I asked as the four of the card players stared intently at their hands.
“Okay,” she replied without looking up at us. “You can get Lynette a clean towel or two, if she wants to take a bath or shower and wash her hair. I’ll see you guys before I turn in for the night.”
“‘Kay, thanks,” I said and turned around with Lynette to pick up our candles, which were burning on the table, beside the telephone.
As we walked by candlelight to the stairs, Lynette smiled and asked, “There’s hot water for a shower?”
“Yup. We have gas for heat, the stove, and thankfully ... for our water heater. We might be in the dark; but we’ll be toasty, well fed, and squeaky clean at least.”
At the top of the stairs, I pointed in the bathroom’s direction and guided Lynette toward the dark room. She set her lit candle down on the back of the toilet as I used my candle to see and grab a couple of fluffy towels from the bottom of the closet. When I turned back towards her, I was surprised to see her standing there in the soft candle light with her rugby shirt held part way up her torso, exposing her solid, slender stomach to my eyes.
“G-good Lord, Lynette,” I stammered as my gaze moved from her bare tummy up to her grinning face.
“I uh, know we probably can’t take a shower together, but you can at least see what you’ll be cuddling up against when we get through with our showers,” Lynette softly giggled as she teased me by sliding her striped rugby shirt up and down her torso.
I stood there speechless as I watched Lynette sway to some imaginary song while her shirt was slowly but progressively inching higher. I raised an eyebrow for a moment when a flash of black and royal blue lace caught my attention as my blonde girlfriend raised her shirt up to her breast level before quickly covering her high, firm titties with her striped shirt. She slowly swayed herself around to face away from me and pulled her shirt up over her head before shaking out her long, wavy blonde hair.
As I previously thought but now knew for a fact, Lynette was now wearing a bra, which she obviously had borrowed from Cathy. I saw the thin black straps and rear closing hooks through her blonde tresses. She turned her head back over her shoulder and smiled as she dropped her shirt between the commode and pedestal sink.
I half-way expected that Lynette would turn around to let me see what type of bra she borrowed from Cathy, when they went into Cathy’s room earlier today. However, she kept her back to me and sexily started to undo and pull her jeans over her swaying ass. I definitely was enjoying the silent disrobing routine she was doing in the candle lit bathroom. Lynette’s black scorpion tattoo mesmerized me as she appeared to make it dart in and out of the shadows as she shimmied to some unheard song.
When I saw her bare butt cheeks with only two thin black cords or straps holding up the thong panties Lynette was now wearing, I mouthed out, “Oh baby,” which caused Lynette to smile brightly as she saw my dark reflection in the bathroom mirror.
With her jeans down at her mid-thigh, the rear look of the black corded panties sparked something within my mind but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. When Lynette bent over to pull her jeans off her straight legs, that movement killed any possibility of me recalling where I had seen them before. She smiled up at me from around her legs as she gingerly stepped out of her crumpled jeans and slowly wiggled her nearly bare butt at me. She then made an ‘ah-oh’ face and spread her legs, which eased the two black cords slightly apart as they ran between her legs.
That memory, which had just been shot down, was now about ready to explode as I watched Lynette reach up and run her hands along the inside of her thighs to her crotch. When her index fingers touched the thin cords and moved them out from between her pussy, I sucked in a large breath of air and softly, but excitedly uttered, “You aren’t ... she didn’t ... Oh damn, Lynette!”
“She did and I am,” Lynette whispered back as she pulled the thin black cords away from her pussy and then caught her exposed, long, thick pussy lips between her thumbs. Lynette moaned out as she slowly rolled her wet folds for a few seconds before she eased her hands away from her crotch and stood upright, with her back still towards me.
“For real, you’re wearing what I think you’re wearing?” I asked as Lynette smiled at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
She quickly nodded her head several times and then said, “Cathy told me this bra and panty set had done the trick for you when she modeled them for you last summer.”
As she mentioned ‘this bra and panty set’, Lynette turned around towards me and confirmed that she was indeed wearing Cathy’s black with royal blue lace trim, quarter cup bra. The thin lacy material magically lifted and displayed her magnificent teenage breasts and puffy nipples in all their glory.
Aeryn
- 27.12.2022
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