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The Awakening on Titwhistle Lane

CHAPTER 6 -- A health check turns into more than a neighborly visit.

The ladies of Titwhistle Lane huddled around a rather large oval table at the back of their favorite restaurant, Spengalli's. The establishment was know for their cannelloni and handsome Italian waiters. The monthly gathering was a luxury they easily afforded, giving the women a chance to catch up on the latest gossip. At the table, the usual suspects were in attendance -- that is except for Alice Bottomley -- she had something of an urgent nature come up and was unable to attend.

Their order had been taken, with each woman doing their best to display their ample charms to Rodrigo, their waiter. The conversations were much the same as they always were: who was doing what and with whom, where would they vacation next, and what was the latest news up and down Titwhistle Lane.

Stephanie Sizemore was not often the center of attention but today she was, which had her feeling a bit overwhelmed and guilty.

"So, Steph," Mrs. Wentworth began, "tell us about your son. Was he badly hurt? How is he doing?"

The others soon chimed in with questions of their own, not even giving the Sizemore woman a chance to respond. However, when she began to speak, and waved her hands to quiet the table, they all stopped and listened.

"Well, as you all know by now, Damian was stung by a bee a couple of days ago. It was a major scare but he's recovering nicely."

"I had no idea bees could be so dangerous," said Mrs. Connie Bustle, crossing her shapely legs for the umpteenth time since they'd arrived. She had gone out of her way to wear a sharp looking, tight-fitting skirt that rode up perfectly when she was seated. She knew she had the attention of a group of businessmen across the way and was playing up to her strengths.

"Hey, y'all." the Southerner, Emily, called. "I'll tell you what. I had an uncle that got stung by a bee and it killed him."

"That is so sad," Connie, replied. "Did it kill him outright? How long did it take him to die?"

The Ravenbach woman looked around the hushed table, making sure she had their attention, and remarked casually, "No, it didn't kill him instantly. It took a couple of seconds for him to hit the ground."

The ladies looked at one another puzzled. "Hit the ground?" Stephanie finally asked.

"Oh, yeah. That bee strung him while he was working, topping a big ol' tree, and it took him a few seconds to hit the ground. The impact killed him instantly though. Horrible accident really, but my aunt soon got over it... used the insurance money to move to Valdosta. She's living the good life now."

"He must have been allergic...huh?" Stephanie asked to confirm.

"Hell no. We don't think so. I suspect the bee just took him by surprise and he got flustered and fell. He was kind of a spaz...so it didn't really come as too much of a shock." The black woman said the words so coolly that it left the others speechless for a second or two.

"Alrighty then," piped in Maggie, while the others still considered what had just been said. "So, Damian is quite allergic though. Is that correct?"

"Oh, yes...that's for sure," Stephanie confirmed. "He's pretty much over the sting, but it's the fall that's giving him the most trouble."

"Yup...just like my uncle," Emily interrupted. The others looked at her and hoped it would be the last about her dead uncle, but sadly it was not. "You know that wasn't the first mishap he had. He was prone to stupid shit -- one time he damn near cut his hand clean off with a chainsaw. He was ah," she paused to re-enact the event with her own hands, "reaching up with his left hand and was swinging the big ass saw with the other." Her movements comically replayed the event for those at the table, as well as anyone within earshot. "And he was cutting like that...and next thing you know half his hand was swinging there...just barely attached. Took him best part of a year to get back to work."

"My heavens," Mrs. Wentworth replied. "Well, I certainly hope our young Mr. Sizemore isn't laid up for a year. I'm sure there are a few of us around this table that will need him to look after our lawns, bushes and such."

"Here, here," Connie spat out. "I'm still waiting my turn to have the boy look after my bush."

The remark produced utter silence for only a fraction of a second before all the ladies joined her in a good laugh. That is...all except Stephanie. What did they know?

Using the opportunity to her advantage, Steph took the topic to a whole new level. "You know -- funniest thing -- Damian, why he was out of it with the string and drugs and all...anyway, he dreamed I screwed him. Can you imagine that?"

"Steph, you can't be serious," Maggie replied, somewhat shocked. "What did he say?"

"Yes, do tell. What did your son say?" Emily eagerly asked.

Stephanie hunched over the table, trying to keep their conversation more confidential, and filled them in. "He dreamed that we were lost at sea and floating on an inflatable raft in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, apparently I mounted him and rode him until Bayan Eskort he came."

"He didn't mention anybody else...just you two?" Emily pried.

"Not that I recall. When he came to he was convinced it was real. Poor kid had cum all over him."

"What?" Maggie said, coughing. "He had ejaculated?"

"You've never heard of a wet dream?" Emily asked incredulously.

"Of course, I have. Don't be silly," Mrs. Wentworth shot back. "I just find it odd that..."

Stephanie quickly jumped back into the conversation, "I think it was the drugs. That Benadryl makes him really loopy. I'm sure that's what caused it. He's still a bit confused about it. So...if he mentions it or says anything...you'll kind of be aware."

"Oh, yeah...of course," Mrs. Bustle concurred. "So Stephanie, how was it? Did you get off too?" she asked, knowing the questions would start a new round of laughter.

"See...that's why I can't confide in you ladies," Stephanie said, laughing herself.

As they joked and enjoyed time together, their missing friend was up to something just as shocking and outlandish as Damian's 'dream'.

Alice Bottomley had waited for Damian's mother to pull from their driveway and head down the lane before she made her move. Standing on the Sizemore front porch, she sent a group text indicating she had an emergency come up at the gym and wouldn't be able to make lunch. She knew it would be all she needed to secure a few minutes alone with the boy.

For two days, Alice had thought of little else than the unfortunate boy, his injuries, and the prick he had swinging between his slender legs. She had been mystified and intrigued. The frightfully vivid memory of his young cock plagued her mind, which is why she was standing on his porch. She simply had to know...

Pulling a compact mirror from her purse, she checked her appearance a final time. She was dressed in a form-fitting, short blue dress. The color accentuated her eyes and contrasted well with her blonde locks and even tan. A half bra lifted her full, perfectly enhanced tits both up and in, creating the illusion of a bottomless pit of cleavage. It did so without hindering her nipples from practically tearing through the stretchy fabric. As well, a tiny thong was nestled comfortably between her legs and matched the bra exactly. She was sure the ensemble was exactly what the doctor would order for a young, ailing patient. Popping the mirror back into its place, she smoothed the dress over her firm butt and rang the bell.

Seconds later, Damian slowly opened the door and peered around the edge. "Mrs. Bottomley? My mom's already left."

Alice watched the boy's eyes travel from her face to tits and quickly back again to engage her eye to eye. "Yeah, I saw her pull away. I...I couldn't make the lunch with the girls today but thought maybe I could make you something. I hated the thought of you being home alone...with you not feeling well and all."

"Oh...that's very nice of you, but I'm doing okay. I was just going to fix..."

Bottomley had not spent half her morning getting dolled up to be turned away by an 18-year-old. Putting her hand on the door, she pushed just hard enough to put Damian on his heels and entered quickly. "I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, which was quite obvious to Damian.

"I can see that," he said, regaining his balance. Unsure of what to say, he blurted out, "I guess I should thank you again for all your help the other day. I don't remember much about it but mom said you really helped out."

"It was the least I could do. Are you feeling better?" she asked, while removing a pair of swanky high heels.

Damian, who was barefoot and shirtless, responded affirmatively, saying his hip and shoulder were improving a little bit every day. Alice nodded her approval, noting the bandages on the boy's shoulder and left hip, part of which was visible above his pajama bottoms. As if Mrs. Bottomley was in her own home, she took charge, pulling the boy to the kitchen.

"So, what will it be? A toasted sandwich, a salad? I'm sure your mom has something here we can manage."

"Really, I was just going to have some grapes and cheese. I'm not that hungry."

Alice seemed agitated by the boy's lack of interest in lunch. "It's no wonder you're thin," she said, walking to the boy and placing her hands on his shoulders. She rubbed around his neck, gently caressing the skin and massaging the muscles. "You're actually quite tone," she purred, approving of the sinew beneath her fingers.

"All right then," she said sharply, jerking her hands away from the boy's neck. "It's grapes and cheese. I'll get those for you and while you eat I'll check the road rash. How does that sound?"

"Great...I guess," Damian said, still somewhat puzzled by the older woman's interest. He wasn't sure of her actual age. There was much speculation on Titwhistle Lane as to the woman's actual birthday, however, no one really knew and it was a secret Bottomley herself guarded with absolute secrecy. Some thought her old enough to be his grandmother, but her ass was no indication that was true. Even now, as he watch her putter about the kitchen, her behind looked as firm as his, but it was certainly more round and inviting. Alice had been a friend of the Sizemore's for as long as Damian could remember, dating back to before his dad vanished.

She was always friendly, helpful, and seemed genuinely interested in their welfare...but today something felt different. There was an unusual vibe to her visit. Perhaps it was the dress, or perfume, or boobs...or perhaps it was Damian and the growing up he'd done over the past few weeks. Though he was still a virgin, as far as he knew or could remember, he'd tasted what a mature woman could offer and he was somewhat intrigued and emboldened by Alice's surprise visit.

"Did my mom know you were going to drop by?" he asked, wondering what she was really up to.

"No...I don't believe so, but I don't think she'll mind. Do you?"

"I doubt it. You're like family."

"What a sweet thing to say. Thank you. I feel the same way," she said, setting the food items she'd plundered from the refrigerator in front of the boy.

"Thanks," Damian replied, happily.

Mrs. Bottomley returned to the task of massaging the boy's neck, being careful not to bother the injured shoulder. "How's that feel?" she asked, her voice suddenly an octave lower.

"Great...I love being massaged," he choked out, while mashing together a grape and piece of cheddar.

"Oh...is that right? I learned some really interesting techniques at a course I took last summer. I'm sure they would help you unwind and get some blood pumping to your extremities." Touching the young man and thinking about what she had in mind already had Bottomley wet with anticipation.

"Um...okay," he said, not quite sure what that was suppose to mean.

Sensing his hesitation, Alice offered some explanation. "We get some blood flowing to your shoulder and hip and they'll heal faster. The extra blood, filling the muscles and swelling them, will bring fresh nutrients and take away the harmful bi-products. Simple anatomy and physiology, just like you've learned in school."

"Sounds familiar," he agreed, truly oblivious to what she'd said. He was more focused and worried about what was happening in his pants. Having the woman's knowing hands roaming over his upper back, and her talk of swelling tissues was having an alarming effect on Damian. Not unaccustomed to having erections at random times, he certainly didn't need one now. He imagined his mother coming home and finding him in the kitchen, with a boner, and with Mrs. Bottomley, much like solving a game of Clue.

Suddenly, her hands withdrew from his neck and she pulled at the tape holding the gauze to his shoulder. "Let me get a look at this," she said, exposing the raw skin. "Oooo...is it sore?" she asked, noting how red and scabbed over the skin remained.

"No...it's surprisingly good -- just bothers me if I roll over onto it funny."

"And how about the hip?" she asked, more than eager to inspect it first hand.

"It's about the same."

"Well, I may as well have a look at it while I'm here. It certainly won't hurt to have another opinion."

Damian was a little startled but somehow not stunned by her request. It seemed the ladies of the lane were more concerned about his welfare than he might have ever imagined. However, he was troubled by what she might discover if she made him stand up to review his hip injury.

"I'm sure it's fine. Mom just changed the bandage this morning and put some antibiotic ointment on it. It's about the same as my shoulder and..." He continued his milquetoast protest as Alice pulled him to his feet and made him stand at attention.

"Okay, just be still for a minute while I get a better look at you." Alice had been standing behind her patient and was unaware of the tent that had formed in the front of his pajamas. Yet, Damian made no effort to conceal his excitement. In fact, when Mrs. Bottomley knelt to the side of him and got the first look at the impressive bulge, he flexed and his cock bounced bombastically.

A sudden gasp and intake of breath confirmed she had seen his display...but she said nothing about it. Instead, she went on like a nurse, "Damian, let's get these pants down a bit...for better look."

She pulled his pants and boxers down, so that the only thing keeping them from dropping to the floor was the root of his cock and the angle of his now fully erect penis. Alice scooted a few inches further around in front of the boy, remaining on her knees. She teased the tape away from the edges of the gauze and peeled back the bandage, exposing his hip area.

"Yes, this looks the same...just as you'd said, but these bottoms are dirty and there's some blood on your unders. I'd hate to think they could infect the area further. Come on...let's get these off and find you something clean."

Without seeking permission of giving it a second thought, Alice yanked Damian's pants and boxers to the floor with one brisk tug. His cock had no choice than to be leveraged down between his legs, creating a loaded spring, which when released shot the hardened shaft upward to smack against his belly. It oscillated around for a few seconds before it reached an equilibrium, with the head pointed directly at Mrs. Bottomley's pretty face.

"Good heavens, Damian! I had no idea. I mean what has got you so excited?" she gasped, feigning shock.

Damian looked down at his cock and the valley of cleavage that was somewhat obscured by his beast's width. His mouth was suddenly dry and he couldn't speak, but his cock seemed to answer for him, bouncing another couple of times as if to say 'come and get me'.

Alice was equally without words, staring the boy's prick directly in the 'eye'. It was bigger erect than she might have thought possible and it appeared to be thickening even more as she watched it bounce. Knowing there was nothing she could do now to stop the events that she had set in motion, she looked up at Damian, captured his eyes with hers, and slowly pulled the dress off her shoulders. The boy's eyes instinctively left hers and followed the motion of her hands, which exposed her breasts for his feasting eyes. Her tits were large and round, not as big as Mrs. Wentworth's, but with nipples that seemed wider with bumps that were raised and dark around the larger central nub.

Freeing her arms from the confines of the dresses' sleeves, Alice used both hands to get the massive cock under control. She looked it over like a skilled butcher looking over a fine steak; pushing it one way and then the other, running her hands over its entirety, and then hefting his balls with her palms. Satisfied with her 'purchase' she began stroking the shaft in earnest.

"Looks like we've got the blood flowing," she said, watching how her stroking was making the head swell even further.

"Yeah," was all Damian could manage. Suddenly his knees felt weak and he bent over slightly to steady himself by holding onto Alice's shoulders. The silky smoothness of her cool skin was divine, further pushing him towards orgasm.

The increased turgidity of the boy's cock made Alice slow down and think. "That feel good, Damian?" she whispered, still pumping his cock lightly but with less pressure. The nodding of his head was answer enough. "Do you think you can cum for me?" Another nod from Damian, and a naughty smile graced the older woman's face. She'd helped plenty of men empty their balls over the years but never a pair that were attached to such a cannon.

Alice picked up the pace again, but stopped short of letting him climax. Rather, she pushed his cock flush with his belly and ran her tongue from his full balls to the crown of his baton. He moaned and grabbed the back of her head, crushing her tongue to his aching cock. She repeated the exercise a couple of times until the taste of pre-cum lathered the underside of his cock-head and coated her lips.

"Can you hold off another minute, Baby" she asked, sensing he was ready to explode.

"Don't know..." he whined. "So close...so close..."

Taking his answer as a cue, Bottomley stood and dropped her dress to the floor. Her suntanned and beautifully muscled body was almost more than Damian could take, and an audible grunt escaped his lips. She smoothed her hands first over her glorious nipples, and then, turning around, she bent over and displayed her ass for the boy to enjoy.

"Have you ever felt a grown woman's ass?" she asked, suggestively.

"Nope...never," was the boy's reply.

"Go ahead, give it a try," she beckoned, bending over the table to give him free access. Having her panties on made little difference to the boy, as he ran his hands over the firm buns. They were magical and wondrous. Something he had imagined a thousand times but never experienced. Looking back over her shoulder, Alice watched Damian play with her butt. Cum was now dripping from his fully charged cock and she knew he needed release.

From the tabletop she snatched the tube of antibiotic ointment that Stephanie had used to doctor her son's lesions. She spun the cap and squeezed a prodigious amount between the cheeks of her ass.

"Come on, Damian," she begged. "Put that big cock of yours between my ass cheeks. Rub that monster against me until you cum."

The boy didn't have to be asked twice. He positioned himself behind her and slapped his meat between her perfect half moons. The first few strokes were awkward until the lubricant was distributed and he had an idea of what he was doing. The obvious squeezing of Alice's well-muscled ass was having an incredible effect on the boy and shortly into the exercise his balls tightened, the glans flared and he began to cum.

He held onto Bottomley's hips for stability as the first volley sprang from the tip of his cock, hitting Alice directly in the back of the head. A rope of cum, splattered up her spine, confirmed the angle and precision of the boy's blast. Alice moaned deeply, surprised by how hard the cum had hit her skull. The second eruption was equally startling, as she watched it fly over her head to land on the table in front of her. She quickly scooped up what she could with a finger and stuck it in her mouth, savouring the texture and warmth of the liquid, like fine wine. The warmth of the next few salvos, crashing across her back, were all she needed to perpetuate her own climax.