Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The following is probably a work of FICTION.  It was sent back in time in a
quantum bottle.  So who really knows for sure? ...

   Feel free to reprint or take credit for it (as if I could stop you), but
please don't make any changes, or I won't write the next chapter!

   If you haven't already, you really should read Chapter 1 first ... 
/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/3
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   SAMMY'S HOT SUMMER Chapter 2: A Helping Hand (m F cons busty)

   by TooMuchTime (TooMuchTime2002@hotmail.com)

   Copyright(c) 2002, TooMuchTime.  All rights reserved.

   I couldn't believe it.  One minute I was laying there in bed, jerking
off, and before I knew it, the room brightened, as somebody turned the lamp
on.  I hadn't even heard the door open.  I turned, and there she was, my
neighbor Bethany, dressed only in a pair of heels, her red hair cascading
down her back, her huge tits ...  well, just huge.  Before I even knew what
was happening, she had crawled on top of me, pushed my sheets aside, and
was riding my cock, her nails digging into my chest, her breasts bouncing,
moaning louder and louder, then screaming, as I became increasingly worried
that she might wake my parents.  And yet I couldn't bring myself to make
her stop.  Pleasure flooded over me in a wave ...

   And then I awoke, my cock still spasming, my sheets a mess.  This, of
course, was not an uncommon occurrence -- I was 13, after all.  What was
different this particular morning was that it felt more real than usual,
because of what had happened the day before.  Or had it?  That fact was, I
couldn't decide whether the previous day was just a vivid dream as well, or
if it had truly happened.  My father was a psychologist, so I knew a little
bit about the various disorders that make people believe things that aren't
true.  Certainly, I wasn't some paranoid nut who thought the CIA was after
him, but was there perhaps a special kind of psychosis that affected only
hormone-enraged teenage boys, and made them believe that their sexual
fantasies were real?  Maybe I'd run across Bethany's website and imagined
it all?  Certainly this made more sense than the idea that a gorgeous web
model had gotten topless for me, then seduced me into masturbating in front
of her, while she did the same in front of me.  Still, it DID all seem very
real.  And when I went to my hamper and sniffed the t-shirt I'd worn the
day before, there was the faint, sweet smell of her perfume where her hands
had touched my shoulders numerous times.

   Of course, the only way I'd know for sure if I'd been dreaming was to
return to the scene of the crime.  After a quick shower, I threw on some
shorts and a fresh t-shirt, and made my way downstairs.  The plan was to
shovel down a couple of pop-tarts, a glass of orange juice, then head next
door.  So much for plans.

   "Morning, Sweetie." There was my mother, sitting at the breakfast nook
in some old baggy clothes, drinking her tea and reading the newspaper.  My
mother, who should have been at work at this time on a Tuesday.

   I stopped in my tracks.  "Mom.  Hi.  What are you doing here?"

   She laughed.  "Well, last I checked, I live here."

   "I know, but ...  why aren't you at work?" I ventured into the kitchen
for my pop-tarts, going through the motions as if everything were perfectly
normal, although I was sure my face looked guilty as sin.

   "I called in sick.  I have a ton of days saved up, and there's some
gardening I've been putting off because of the heat.  It's supposed to be a
bit cooler today than it was this weekend."

   "Oh." I tried to mask my annoyance.  With my mother home, I wouldn't
really be able to justify going next door to see Bethany again.  I guessed
I could probably just leave, say I was going to a friend's, then more or
less sneak into Bethany's house ...  but then if Mom happened to see me ...
or if a neighbor saw, and told my mother ...  it would create suspicion,
and possibly ruin what could otherwise be the greatest summer for a 13
year-old boy in recorded history.

   As if reading my mind, Mom asked, "So what do you have planned today?"

   "Me?  Nothing really.  Probably just play games on my computer."
Unfortunately, I thought.

   "Nobody to play with?" At first, I thought this was a sign that she
somehow knew something -- that "play" was code for what Bethany and I had
done the day before.  But of course that was just paranoia talking.  What
she was really referring to was Kevin.  She knew that I'd spent 90% of my
time hanging out with Kevin before he moved away, and that with him gone, I
spent more time than ever in my room.

   "Not really," I said.  "I don't know, I might ride my bike later.  See
who's down at the park." Best to leave the option of exiting the house open
for myself, I thought.  Just in case I got bold, and decided to sneak over
to Bethany's after all.  "I don't know, I'll figure something out."

   "You're always welcome to help me with the gardening work ...  but I'm
guessing from that sour look you just got on your face that you're not
really interested in that." She smiled.  "Well, the offer stands."

   "Thanks," I said.  "I don't know, maybe."

   And with this, I grabbed my pop-tarts and juice and went back upstairs
to my room.  Dammit, I thought.  This screws everything up.  What would I
do now?  I sat down in front of the computer, and decided to check my
e-mail.  Maybe Kevin had written.  Nope.  Just some junk mail.  Then I
pulled up the web browser, and typed in the URL to Bethany's site.  There
again was the homepage she'd shown me the day before -- her cupping her
huge tits, smiling devilishly at the camera.  I clicked through to the
greeting page, and started checking out all the bikini and lingerie photos
I'd been too self-conscious to look at when she was right over my shoulder.
Almost immediately, I grew hard.  I really wished she'd let me have the
login to the members section, so I could see some of the nude shots.  Yet
it was probably just as well.  With my luck today, I'd be right in the
middle of masturbating, and my mother would come knocking on my door,
asking me again if I wanted to help her do some weeding.  Then I noticed
something ...

   Of course, I thought.  There, in the left-hand column, was her e-mail
address.  It was an AOL account.  Which meant that if she was online, I
could probably instant message her.  Or I could at least e-mail her, and
make another appeal for the username and password of her members section.
It was worth a try anyway.

   I typed in her screen name -- "BustyBethany34DDD" -- to see if she was
online.  She was.  Excellent.  Now the big question was whether or not
she'd actually reply if I sent her a message.  More often than not,
whenever I tried to message women -- especially ones with hot member
profiles or personal pages -- I was ignored.  Probably because they got
IMed so many times in a day.  But again, it was at least worth a try.  I
typed ...
PennsyGeekBoy: Hey Bethany, it's me Sammy, you there?
I waited for about a minute, but there was no response.  Oh well.  It
was a long shot anyway.  Maybe I'd just send an e-mail instead, and hope
she didn't get so many letters in her inbox that mine would get lost in the
shuffle.  I had just started typing a note when an instant message came

through ...
SuperKewlTeenChik: hey sweetie!!!
PennsyGeekBoy: Who is this?
SuperKewlTeenChik: it's me Bethany
PennsyGeekBoy: You are there, cool!  Why this screen name?
SuperKewlTeenChik: it's my daughter's account ....  mine had so many IMs
PennsyGeekBoy: Oh okay.  That's cool.
SuperKewlTeenChik: are you coming to visit me again today?
PennsyGeekBoy: Not sure.  My mom is home!  :(
SuperKewlTeenChik: oh that makes it tricky i guess huh?
PennsyGeekBoy: Yeah, a little.  I was looking at your site instead.
SuperKewlTeenChik: see anything you like?  ;)
PennsyGeekBoy: I think you know the answer to that!
SuperKewlTeenChik: hey, i have an idea
PennsyGeekBoy: What?
SuperKewlTeenChik: sit tight
PennsyGeekBoy: Huh?
But this last message never went through.  It told me "SuperKewlTeenChik
is not logged on".  I figured maybe she was switching screen names again.
So I waited.  For a minute.  Another minute.  Then I got impatient, and
tried to message her again.  Still not there.  I tried her at her main
screen name.  Not there either.  Maybe she got a phone call?  I went back

to looking at the photos on her site, trying to be patient.

   Suddenly, my mother called up the stairs, "Sammy?  Could you come down
here?"

   I checked myself, and saw that my erection had faded mostly.  Good. 
"Coming, Mom!"

   As I rushed down the stairs, I saw my mother standing at the front door
...  with Bethany!  I stopped halfway down, and tried to size up the
situation.  The contrast between the two women was, of course,
unmistakable. My mother in her frumpy t-shirt and baggy jeans, short,
thirty pounds or so overweight, her hair a mess, hands and face already a
bit dirty from the early stages of weeding.  Bethany in a soft yellow
sundress that went down to her knees, tall and slim and busty, her long red
hair pulled together with a scrunchie behind her head, well-manicured long
red nails, and a fresh face of makeup, including bright red lipstick.  Both
seemed to be smiling, but my mother's smile looked like more polite than
actually amused.  Bethany, meanwhile, just beamed, "Hello again, Sammy."

   I began to panic.  What was going on here?  Had I just been busted or
something?  "Hi," I said, meekly.

   My mother tried to fuss with her hair.  "Looks like you have plans after
all," she said.

   I tried to let my confusion show on my face as much as possible.

   "The pool," Mom said.  "Bethany here tells me you said you might clean
her pool today."

   "Oh," I said.  "Right.  I forgot." I ventured the rest of the way down
the stairs.

   Bethany spoke up.  "Well, we hadn't set it in stone or anything.  If
you're not free ..."

   "No," I said, carefully disguising my excitement.  "It's okay.  I'm not
really doing anything."

   "Did you fix a price yet?" my mother asked.

   I turned to Bethany.  "I don't know.  Did we?"

   "Well, how about ...  twenty dollars each time?  And all the soda you
want.  And of course you're welcome to use the pool any time you like, as
long as you ask me ahead of time."

   "That sounds pretty reasonable," Mom said.  "Don't you think, Sammy?"

   "Sure.  Very reasonable." At this point, I wished that Bethany would
just wrap things up.  I was starting to feel amazingly awkward.  But
instead, she continued to drag things out, and I suspected she was
torturing me.

   "Elaine (this was my mother's name), did Sammy tell you he fixed my
computer?"

   Mom smiled over at me.  "No, he hadn't mentioned that." I shrugged in
reply.  "He is very handy with those kind of technical things.  Sometimes
it seems like the harder something is, the more determined he is to fix
it."

   "You don't say," Bethany said, catching my eye and smirking.  "Well, I
can appreciate that.  I'm the same way usually.  The harder the better. 
Just not with computers." I couldn't even believe she'd said that.  I
wanted to crawl in a hole, certain that my mother had caught the
double-meaning.  But if there was any recognition of it, it didn't show on
her face.  If anything, I got the impression that she simply wanted Bethany
to leave."

   "Well, I need to get back to my gardening," Mom said.  "It was nice to
meet you."

   "Likewise.  Sammy, come on over any time you're ready."

   I nodded.  "Okay." And just like that, my day got brighter.



   * * *



   I decided to wait a little while before going.  I was afraid that if I
just rushed over, Mom would suspect something.  Better to play it cool.  I
planned on waiting an hour, but once half that time had passed, I was
practically crawling the walls.  Half an hour would have to be "cool"
enough.  As I made my way out the door and past my mother, she glanced up
at me briefly, and told me to "do a good job".  I almost wanted to scream
out laughing.

   Unlike the day before, Bethany answered the door right away this time.
"There you are.  What took you so long?" She rushed me into the house and
shut the door behind me.  Since I'd last seen her, she'd changed from the
yellow dress into a skimpy red bikini, tall red heels, and a thin white sun
robe that was open in the front.  Her hair was still pulled back with the
scrunchie.  But no matter what else I looked at, my eyes kept coming back
to her tits.  She caught my glance and smiled wickedly.  "Did you miss
them?" she asked, and leaned in close.  With the difference in our heights,
this put her chest directly at face level, and her sweet perfume assaulted
me.

   I swallowed hard.  "Yes, very much."

   Suddenly, she took my right hand in hers, lifted it, and brought it to
rest on her soft tit.  For a moment, I nearly forgot to breathe.  This was
certainly new territory.  Bethany leaned in to whisper hotly in my ear. 
"They missed you too," she said.  "In fact, they were very mad that they
never really got to meet you."

   I held my hand still against her breast, knowing I should do something,
but unsure of exactly what.

   "Would you like to meet them?" she whispered.

   All I could think to do was nod.

   Bethany gently pulled my hand away, took a step back, and lifted the
bikini top up and over her tits, leaving them to bounce slightly as they
were set free.  Again, her nipples were rock hard marbles, and again I was
amazed by the sight of her amazing melon-sized beauties.  She stepped
closer, and took my hand once more, guiding it to her breast.  I cupped it
gently, pressing my palm against the nipple, and she moaned softly.  "Ohhh,
Sammy." Then, surprising me, she hooked an arm around my waist, and began
to pull me toward her while she moved backwards at the same time, until she
finally crashed against the front door and I crashed against her, my hand
still on her tit.

   I glanced quickly around me, and confirmed that there were no uncovered
windows anybody could see into.  Feeling encouraged, I began to squeeze and
fondle her breast, which made her moan a bit more loudly.  Meanwhile, my
cock was straining against my shorts, and when her thigh suddenly pressed
against it, I nearly came on the spot.  "Ohhh, Sammy," she said again, as
her long nails trailed their way up my spine, to my neck, then gently
gripped the back of my head.  She was pushing it toward her ...  and
downwards ...  as if she wanted me to ...  "Kiss it," she said.  I
certainly wasn't going to resist.  My mouth lowered itself onto her sweet
engorged nipple, doing only as she'd told me to at first, kissing it
softly, until her hand pushed me harder, and it became clear that she
really wanted more than that.  My mouth opened almost without me realizing
-- the act instinctive -- my lips enveloped her large nipple, and as my
tongue found the rock-hard tip, she groaned and her entire body immediately
shuddered, as if I was passing electricity through her.

   And just then, the doorbell rang.

   I lifted my head up quickly, and looked to Bethany's face, which was
wide-eyed and had an almost comical expression to it.  We just froze there
like that for several seconds, both of us clearly uncertain of what to do
next.  There was somebody just two feet away from us, on the other side of
the door.  Possibly my mother.  Of course, whoever it was, they couldn't
see anything.  Yet still, there was that panicked thought.  What if they
could?  Finally, Bethany put both hands on my chest, and gently pushed me
away, then pointed for me to go upstairs.  I deferred to her judgment, and
rapidly but quietly made my way up the stairs, just as the doorbell rang
again.  When I glanced once over my shoulder, I saw that she was busily
putting her bikini top back in place, and sashing the thin white robe
across her front.  She checked to see that I was out of sight, then opened
the door, as I watched stealthily from around a corner.

   To my relief, it turned out not to be my mother, but an overweight phone
guy.  From what I could hear, he'd come to wire the DSL connection from the
first-floor den -- where Kevin's family had originally had it installed --
up to the second-floor room that used to be Kevin's bedroom and was now
Bethany's office.  She pointed out the direction of the den to him, then
paused at the bottom of the steps long enough to mouth up at me the words
"GO TO MY BEDROOM" with large over-exaggerated lip motions.  Of course, I
thought.  Any minute now, the phone guy would be coming upstairs to do
something in the office.  For whatever reason, she didn't want him to see
me.

   Once again, I did as I was told, and rushed into her bedroom, quietly
closing the door behind me.  No sooner had I done this than, sure enough,
they were advancing up the stairs, Bethany talking so loudly that I had to
guess she was just making sure I knew they were on the way.  Well, I
thought, nothing to do now but wait.  I looked around me at the clutter of
the room -- open suitcases, stacked boxes, clothes everywhere.  The bed was
free of clutter, but still unmade from having slept on it the night before.
On the floor beside it were the clothes she'd worn the day before, and
after a quick glance at the door, I leaned down and picked up the tiny pink
tube top I remembered so well, brought it to my face, and inhaled deeply.
Her sweet scent filled my nose, and it alone was enough to give me the
rumblings of an erection.

   I sat on the bed, placed the tube top on the sheet beside me, then
reached for the pillow.  This too, I brought to my face for a long whiff,
and as I went to put it down again, I saw that there had been something
under it.  Something ...  very interesting.  A thin pink vibrator, no more
than 5 inches or so long.  And just as I was about to pick it up, I heard
Bethany's voice directly outside the door, saying something about going to
get changed.  She cracked the door open, still talking to the phone guy. 
"Just let me know if you need anything." In a rush, I threw the pillow
down, over the vibrator, and in almost the same motion, brushed the tube
top onto the floor, just a bare second before the door opened completely
and Bethany walked in.  If she noticed that I looked guilty, she didn't
mention it.  Instead, she wore a large smile, and her eyes were wide and
excited as she locked the door behind her, then switched on a radio atop
the dresser, and sat beside me on the bed.  "Boy, that was close," she
said, low enough so that the music would mask her voice.

   "Yeah, I'd say so." I loved the way her arm felt pressed against mine,
and made a point of not moving.

   "Uh oh," she said, and her smile faded.

   "What?"

   "Well ...  I think I left the KY jelly sitting on the desk in the
office. From yesterday."

   "Really?"

   She smiled again.  "No.  Just kidding.  It's right over here." And with
this, she leaned over my body, far enough so that her warm breasts were
pushed into my lap, and pulled open the nightstand drawer.  She reached in,
and fumbled around for so long that I suspected she was purposely dragging
the moment out, then finally came away with the tube of KY in her hand, and
sat back up.  "See."

   Of course, I wasn't completely naive.  "You could have just told me it
was there," I said.

   Bethany nodded, as she deftly untied the sash of her robe.  "True.  I
could have."

   "So why didn't you?" I asked.

   She removed the robe entirely, and let it fall back on the bed, then
reached behind herself to untie and remove the bikini top as well.  Once
again, I was transfixed by the sight of her enormous chest, and at this
point, no longer felt self-conscious about openly staring at them.  "I'm
sorry," she said, her tone playful as she ran her long red nails in circles
around one of her nipples.  "What was the question again?"

   "Huh?  Nothing."

   "So do I get to see yours now?" she asked, and reached down into my lap.
Firmly, she cupped my insanely erect cock through my shorts.  "Mmmm, I
think it's happy to see me."

   "Y-yes," I said, willing myself not to cum on the spot.  If not for the
fact that I'd had a wet dream only a couple of hours before, I might not
have succeeded.  "Very happy."

   "Let's see how happy.  Pull those shorts down for Mommy, okay?" Without
bothering to even say anything, I lifted my ass off the bed, and rushed my
shorts down to my knees, underwear and all, as quickly as I could manage.
Quickly enough that it made her laugh.  "Oh my.  You are an obedient boy,
aren't you?"

   I continued to stare at her tits, wide-eyed.  "Yes.  Mommy."

   "Ohhh, and a smart boy too.  You're learning my weaknesses." She placed
a hand on my chest, let it linger there for a moment, then suddenly and
swiftly gave me a hard push, forcing me onto my back.  Before I knew it,
she was leaning over me, whispering into my ear.  "We don't have much
time." She leaned forward further, and there were her tits, hanging
pendulously in my face, lowering ...  lowering ...  until one of her
marble-sized nipples brushed against my lips, and I found it hungrily with
my mouth.  This sent a quiver though her body that made the entire bed
tremble, which encouraged me to suckle even harder.  I barely even noticed
the cool wet sensation on my cock as she squeezed a bead of KY onto it ...
but I certainly felt her hand.  My god, did I feel her hand!

   It was the first time anybody other than myself had ever touched one of
my erections, and it was everything I could possibly have hoped for.  All
she did at first was rub the lubricant up and down my shaft, over the head,
coating it all, but very slowly, as if she knew full well that if she went
too fast, I'd be done for.  And once I was fully slick, she stopped, and
began instead to tease my full tight balls with her nails.  It was
excruciating torture, and I loved it.  Then she found my shaft again and
stroked, expertly, slowly at first, then gradually faster, squeezing the
head and giving a little twist each time she reached it.  At this point, it
didn't take long ...

   The pleasure that passed through my body during the next thirty seconds
or so was almost indescribable.  The first thing I noticed was that my
hands began to buzz, and went more or less numb -- something to do with my
circulation, I guess.  On the heels of this, my balls began to contract,
and then, like a furious storm, my cock began to shoot cum in long
satisfying spurts that I would never have even dreamt possible.  And the
more I came, the faster and more vigorously Bethany stroked me, mixing the
cum itself in with the KY to slip and slide her hand over my shaft, urging
me with her voice: "That's it, baby.  Ohhh, yes.  Cum for Mommy.  Show me
how much I turn you on.  Mmmm, such a good boy." Over and over again I shot
my load, the intensity waning a bit each time, until eventually, there was
nothing left to milk out of me.  And yet, that still wasn't the end of it
...

   My cock still twitching, I realized that I had my head bent almost all
the way back, my chin pointing toward the ceiling, and as the waves of
pleasure subsided, I leaned forward again, so that I could see what kind of
mess I'd made.  My first sight was a smiling Bethany, sitting there on the
bed next to me, still holding my shaft, her neck and tits and stomach
covered with large gobs of my cum.  "Stay still," she said, and I watched
as her hand, which had slowed down a bit, began to speed up again, this
time concentrating almost entirely on the head.  This was a feeling
altogether different from my orgasm, because the head was now so
hypersensitive that the intensity was almost more than I could bear -- out
of the blue, I began to laugh uncontrollably, as a kind of unbridled
euphoria kicked in.  Not wanting her stop, but not wanting to alert the
phone guy to my presence either, I quickly grabbed one of the pillows and
clamped it over my face, then laughed hysterically into it, as Bethany's
hand continued unabated.  By the time she stopped a few minutes later, I
was in tears.  I removed the pillow from my face to find her using both
hands to smear my cum across her huge tits and over her nipples.  Her
expression reminded me of a baby playing happily with its food.

   "Wow," I said, knowing full well that it was the understatement of the
century.

   My voice jarred her out of the reverie of playing with herself.  She
grinned down at me.  "Wow indeed.  You made quite a mess," she said, then
leaned forward, and unexpectedly, planted her mouth on mine.  Ironically,
this was my first real kiss as well -- and the irony lay in the fact that
I'd always kind of assumed that I would have my first kiss before I got my
first hand job.  But I certainly wasn't going to complain about the
ordering of things at this point.  As her warm lips and tongue explored
mine, I became somewhat light-headed, and wondered how many hours it would
be before my blood found its way to all the right places again.  "Thank
you," she said.

   "Thank me?" I asked, somewhat incredulous.  "Thank you!  That was
amazing."

   "Oh, that was nothing," Bethany said.  "You'll see." Then she blew me a
kiss, stood, and walked across the room to the bathroom.  I just continued
to lay there, my erection gradually waning, enjoying the half-naked site of
her.  After she cleaned herself off, she began to change into the yellow
sundress she'd been wearing earlier, and made a point of giving me an
impromptu strip show as she did.  "Well," she said.  "I better get back out
there.  For all I know, he's robbing me blind right now." Her eyes wandered
from my face down to my now-limp member, and she smiled devilishly.  "Just
stay up here for now.  I'll let you know when it's safe to come out. 
Shouldn't be long."

   And with that, she was out the door.  Eventually, I pulled my shorts
back up again.

   Well, I thought.  I least I knew now that yesterday hadn't been a dream.



   * * *



   At the dinner table that night, my father asked, "So what did you do
today, Sammy?"

   I shrugged.  "Nothing exciting."

   "He cleaned the neighbor's pool," my mother said.

   "No, I didn't actually.  When I went over, she had me give her a hand
with some other things instead."

   "More trouble with her computer?" she asked.

   "Yeah." At this point, there was no way around lying.  "Just some
computer stuff."

   "Well," my father said.  "I certainly hope she appreciated it."

   It took every ounce of strength I had not to laugh.  "I'm pretty sure
she did."

   "Is she still paying you to clean her pool?" Mom asked.

   "Yeah, she is.  I'll probably do that tomorrow."

   "Good," my father said.  "I'm glad to see you're keeping yourself busy."

   "Yeah, me too." And with this, I smiled, already thinking about
tomorrow.
   (TO BE CONTINUED)