Sexy Book Club: A Mother-Daughter Tea Party Takes an Unexpected Turn
"You're having a tea party?" Terri said, sitting at the kitchen table. She itched awkwardly at an exposed leg. Her grey sweats had been nearly destroyed by the work. At her Mom's suggestion, she was trying out a baggy pair of shorts. After a week it felt a little strange to show any skin, but it did help with the low-level heat that filled the house.
"Book club," Anne said. She was making canapés. And she had another one of her titillating dresses on, a green one with a white sash. It had a v-neck that plunged to the center of her chest. Two breasts poked out on either side. Terri had hesitated to ask, but they WERE bigger, weren't they?
"Then what's the book?"
"We didn't actually get around to picking one," Anne admitted. "But that's why we're meeting. To pick a book for next week."
Terri rolled her eyes.
"Your eyes are going to stick like that if you're not careful," Anne said.
She rolled a piece of bacon around a fig. Terri nearly drooled. Why was she so hungry, all the time? Did it have anything to do with her newly irrepressible sex drive?
"Good! Then I'll go around freaking people out with my all-white eyes. It'll be great," Terri said. "Who are these women?"
"Oh, you know. Ladies from the neighborhood. Mrs. Pritcher. Mrs. Scoaler. Mrs. Taylor..."
It was a nearly complete list of the prudish, busy-body women that staffed the Calving PTA and spent most of their time disapproving of things.
Terri opened her mouth to say as much, and Anne stuffed a fig in it. It was delicious. Her train of thought plunged off the rails.
"Go take a shower," Anne directed. "I'll give you one of my dresses to wear. You, dear daughter, will be serving the tea."
Terri tried to fight back.
But the fig was stuffed with ricotta. And all she could do was nod.
* * *
Terri closed the bathroom door and examined herself in the mirror.
"Oh geez," she murmured, to herself.
She was busting out in curves all over. That damn ice cream!
Already her rail-thin body was a memory. No longer could she see three bony ribs floating just underneath her boobs. Now her body was increasingly sleek and well-fed, almost glossy, rippling with a new bounty of curves.
What hadn't gone to her hips had gone to her boobs. They had inflated like party balloons over the past week, swelling from mere bumps to the honest-to-goodness breasts she had had before college. Her hips were embarrassingly wide, back to the child-bearing country curves she had been so mortified by.
Not that she looked BAD...
"No more ice cream," she told herself. That had to be it. That stuff was 90% fat. Whatever Reverend Flynn put in it, it was overencouraging the part of her genetic makeup that wanted to be described as "buxom."
She eased her growing form into the shower. For the first five minutes she dully scrubbed herself.
"Okay, Terri, be honest with yourself," she said, watching the hot water dribble down a small expanse of honest-to-goodness cleavage.
She was starting to get turned on... by pretty much anything. It wasn't just at THE END
"Book club," Anne said. She was making canapés. And she had another one of her titillating dresses on, a green one with a white sash. It had a v-neck that plunged to the center of her chest. Two breasts poked out on either side. Terri had hesitated to ask, but they WERE bigger, weren't they?
"Then what's the book?"
"We didn't actually get around to picking one," Anne admitted. "But that's why we're meeting. To pick a book for next week."
Terri rolled her eyes.
"Your eyes are going to stick like that if you're not careful," Anne said.
She rolled a piece of bacon around a fig. Terri nearly drooled. Why was she so hungry, all the time? Did it have anything to do with her newly irrepressible sex drive?
"Good! Then I'll go around freaking people out with my all-white eyes. It'll be great," Terri said. "Who are these women?"
"Oh, you know. Ladies from the neighborhood. Mrs. Pritcher. Mrs. Scoaler. Mrs. Taylor..."
It was a nearly complete list of the prudish, busy-body women that staffed the Calving PTA and spent most of their time disapproving of things.
Terri opened her mouth to say as much, and Anne stuffed a fig in it. It was delicious. Her train of thought plunged off the rails.
"Go take a shower," Anne directed. "I'll give you one of my dresses to wear. You, dear daughter, will be serving the tea."
Terri tried to fight back.
But the fig was stuffed with ricotta. And all she could do was nod.
* * *
Terri closed the bathroom door and examined herself in the mirror.
"Oh geez," she murmured, to herself.
She was busting out in curves all over. That damn ice cream!
Already her rail-thin body was a memory. No longer could she see three bony ribs floating just underneath her boobs. Now her body was increasingly sleek and well-fed, almost glossy, rippling with a new bounty of curves.
What hadn't gone to her hips had gone to her boobs. They had inflated like party balloons over the past week, swelling from mere bumps to the honest-to-goodness breasts she had had before college. Her hips were embarrassingly wide, back to the child-bearing country curves she had been so mortified by.
Not that she looked BAD...
"No more ice cream," she told herself. That had to be it. That stuff was 90% fat. Whatever Reverend Flynn put in it, it was overencouraging the part of her genetic makeup that wanted to be described as "buxom."
She eased her growing form into the shower. For the first five minutes she dully scrubbed herself.
"Okay, Terri, be honest with yourself," she said, watching the hot water dribble down a small expanse of honest-to-goodness cleavage.
She was starting to get turned on... by pretty much anything. It wasn't just at THE END
