Henry sat, legs crossed, lower foot bouncing, on one of the plush armchairs in the living room. The novel in his hand, taken from the Cabin’s ample bookcase, was a token gesture. His eyes were flicking over the same section over and over, without actually reading anything.
It was an hour since he had come out of the master bedroom, tired of waiting for Joan to leave the bathroom. It was also 20 mins since Jess, worried about James’s flight, had set out after him.
For all of that time Henry sat, whiling away time, trying desperately to will down his raging boner.
He’d been low grade horny ever since the previous night. Henry didn’t want to admit it, but it had been seeing his daughter’s exposed pale skinny flat ass that had gotten the ball rolling. Now, today, he’d had his wife prancing around in front of him, wiggling her much more curvy ass in his face, which he’d certainly made the most of; as a consequence he sported a ball achingly long erection. Fear of change, however was preventing him from doing anything so far, hence the pointless novel. Every female character in it was subconsciously either designated as Jess or Joan lookalikes in his mind.
His mind had drifted again, wandering the languid paths of imagination to put Jess into the current scene. A female detective, leaning over the table in a holding cell, grilling a suspect. Only the detective was 16 years old, slight, slim, short and in no way possibly threatening. The only thing threatening, were the buttons of her blues threatening to explode at the pressure of her huge rack putting pressure on them.
Maybe a button would pop?!
Quickly his imagination shifted the scene. One button popped, then two, then the dam broke. Her milky pale breasts spilled forth onto the table, like a wave, coming to a jiggling stop moments later. Sat in his mind eye in the suspect’s chair he wondered if breasts that big would lactate. And so they did. Streams of while creamy liquid dribbling from large pink teats, beading and rolling down the giant tit-flesh, pooling…
*SLAM*
The sound of the front door snapped Henry out of it. The book snapped shut, and he instantly forgot that he had just been imagining his own daughter naked.
“DAD HELP US!” he heard that very baby girl of his call out. He shot up, erection forgotten. Shooting out to the hall he saw his kids. Jess stood, visibly straining and sweating, supporting her much heavier and injured brother. James was filthy, dried and congealed blood was streaked down the side of his head. He was conscious at least, a mercy, and the look in his eyes said he wasn’t in danger of passing out or anything. His face instead told a story of excruciating pain instead. By the way he stood, one foot off the ground, favouring the other leg, it was obvious that he had hurt himself.
“I fell Dad!” James mumbled, speech not 100%, maybe that head wound was something to be concerned about.
There was only one person in this cabin capable of assessing this. His wife was an experienced nurse practitioner in an ER ward well able to deal with this kind of work.
“JOAN!!!” Henry called, rushing over to catch James’s weight just as Jess was beginning to flag. Even as she slumped exhausted against the door frame, Jess cautioned her dad.
“Dad, stop talking!!! I can’t risk you saying an animal. I’ll do the talking for you.” Henry’s heart broke at his daughters concern, but was quickly reminded of his priorities when Jess’s huge chest heaved heavily and she shouted “MOOOOO-OOM!”
Brought back to the urgency of the situation, Henry hoisted his son up, cradling him in his arms, motioned towards the master bedroom and turned to go.
Jess, still leaning against the door, sweating profusely and still nauseous from the exertion, did take a moment to appreciate how easily her dad had lifted James. Maybe, her mind though, she would like to be lifted by those big strong arms too. Henry turned then and motioned again, before regarding his daughter with a funny look, staring at the side of her head.
Self conscious, Jess’s hand went up flicking her hair out to cover her ears as she stood upright. She felt the tips had begun to lengthen. Gods at every waking moment! She thought.
Following her father now into the bedroom, she shouted for her mother again as watched James being gently placed onto the bed.
A few moments passed, with no sound coming from anywhere in the house.
“Where is she Dad?” Jess queried, which received a finger pointing at the bathroom.
Frustrated Jess stomped over close and called. “MOOOOOOM!!! JAMES IS HURT WE NEED YOUR HELP!”
Another pause, some shuffling from inside, Jess was about to shout again when the handle finally clicked and turned.