Jenny Ch. 01byStoryTeller07©
Brian was staying in his son's house, lying low from a money lender, but it hadn't been such an easy option as imagined. Jim, his son, had left on a business trip, touring sub-offices of the bank he worked for, leaving his daughter-in-law to nag him. Knowing Jim would be away for awhile, Brian decided to try and get Jenny to stop the constant backbiting.
Brian got up early, unpacking some groceries, purchased in town the day before. He wondered if his prissy daughter-in-law would remain so stuck up, giving him a hard time, after a special breakfast.
"Speak of the devil," he murmured, under his breath.
"What was that Brian?" Jenny abruptly asked.
"Morning, Jenny, sit down, I'm making breakfast," Brian told her.
"Oh? Well I guess it's about time you helped out around here," Jenny scolded her father-in-law. "I don't eat a cooked breakfast," she added. She sat down at the kitchen table with a critical scowl on her face. Jenny gave Brian a hard look, wondering how she could get rid of him. He was a bit of a pervert as far as she was concerned. As soon as he came to stay, a couple of days ago, the course man had become a nasty nuisance.
He had contrived to walk in on her when she was getting dressed and walked into the bathroom when she was taking a shower. She hadn't told her husband, in case he said it was all in her imagination. She wasn't bothered if it causes a family rift, rather it would suit her if they never saw the obnoxious man again. She would try and get some evidence, before accusing him, and get Jim to throw him out.
"Brian, have you found a place to stay yet?" she asked.
Brian ignored the rude tone of voice. "I'm working on it. Making friends and contacts locally," he smiled.
"At the local bars, no doubt," she snidely commented.
"Try this juice. Freshly squeezed, with Chinese herbs," he said, with a winning smile, knowing it would fail with her. "My special formula," he added.
He watched her sip it reluctantly through pursed lips, with the usual scowl, crinkling her face. The attractive shape of lush rosebud lips were spoilt by the prissy pout she usually wore. She habitually wore an expression of disdain, as though displeased with life, and him especially so.
"Nice!" she said, with a look of surprise. She tipped the glass to her gorgeous lips, taking a gulp, then another, soon emptying the glass.
"You are ready for breakfast now," he firmly told her.
"I don't, err. Yes, OK," she murmured.
He placed a plate of bacon, eggs and hash browns in front of her. "You're hungrier than you thought," he told her.
"Yea, it's surprising," she said, tucking into the food.
"You're only twenty-two, yet always dressing so frumpy, as though you're an old woman. You ought to start dressing younger," he scolded her. He watched her nodding while shoveling in the eggs.
"Are you working out in the gym this morning?" he asked.
"As usual," she said, while crunching a mouthful of bacon.
"You should wear shorts and a cut off top, so you can see the muscles you're working on," he told her. She usually wore a pair of baggy sweats and top, covering her body. He was interested to see how well the suggestion might work. So far the juice was relaxing her, as promised by a friend.
He gave her more instructions then told her firmly to get ready. "It's OK. I'll wash up the old fashioned way. You don't have to remember what I told you, just as long as you do it," he said, as she left the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her hesitate in the doorway, then leave.
'What did he mean?' she wondered. Instead of going along to the gym she diverted into the bedroom, and pulled off the sweats and baggy top. Rummaging around in the closet she found a pair of old shorts, not worn since college days. It was obvious the big white, comfortable panties, would have to be discarded to wear them.
It was a struggle pulling them on, so she was right to leave the panties off. The small exercise top was meant to be worn over a full t-shirt. Her breasts were small, so it didn't matter, she didn't need extra support.
She kicked off the trainers and walked down the corridor to the gym in bare feet. This was the first change made to her parent's home, for she liked to keep in trim. They had been wealthy, conservative people, bringing her up to be a responsible adult. Some would say she had been a spoilt brat, and grew up to become an arrogant snob.
Never having to work she hadn't had the grounding, in real life, that colleagues in a working environment would provide. Her attitudes had remained self-centered, unmodified by friends and colleagues criticisms. She made sure she got what she wanted, and how she wanted it; in restaurants, hotels and stores, giving those that served her a hard time.
Her father-in-law wasn't rich, so she considered him beneath her, and treated him with condescension, though she wouldn't have noticed it.
Brian walked in and stood, leaning against a multi-gym, watching her on the treadmill. It was a surprise his suggestions had worked so well. The tall, thin, dark haired woman was showing off a pair of long, bare legs, for a change. He was staring at her bottom, watching each cheek clearly pumping up and down, with every step, in skin tight shorts. The shorts cupped her cheeks, riding up between them, pulling tight.
Before the influence of the juice wore off he had better suggest she needed some help. She bent forward to switch the machine off with the bottom of her hard cheeks spilling out. Like her attitude her body was fresh and hard.
"I'll give you a hand," he ordered.
Jenny was about to tell him to get out, though the words failed her. "I, I didn't know you were interested in the gym," she stuttered.
He was about to say he preferred hard work to playing at fitness, though this was no time to start another fight. "Sure, believe it or not, I used to be a fitness instructor in the army," he lied. "Here, lay down on the bench and you can lift some weights," he told her firmly.
"I like to exercise alone, it clears my head," she said, feeling it was a lame excuse. She had meant to be more firm than that. Jenny lay back on the bench, wondering why she hadn't just told him to leave. She didn't want this old man ogling her body. It was then she became painfully aware of how undressed she was.
He pulled down a pair of gloved handles, which she automatically wiggled her hands into. He took an ankle in a big meaty paw, to lift a leather strap over it then the other. Adjusting the weights he let her gradually take the strain.
The heavy weights stretched her arms out past her ears. The weights at her feet pulled her down the bench, stretching her body over it. "I don't usually use this much weight," she stammered. In this awkward position, she wanted to shout at him to leave her alone, though how could she get free if he left, she reasoned.
"You want to keep a flat stomach don't you?" he asked. His hand pressed her tummy, stroking the lean, bare, soft flesh, feeling the tight muscles beneath.
"No! Yes," she stammered again. She couldn't understand why she was so nervous, why she was stammering like a fool; she never had before. She didn't like the way he was pawing her, yet somehow it seemed alright.
After all he was helping her, wasn't he? She wasn't used to feeling so vulnerable and helpless. It was affecting her so much she couldn't bring her thoughts together, to form the words, to tell him off. Stretched out before her father-in-law, held tight by the weights, it was all wrong! Yet she couldn't even complain, let alone tell him to let her go.
"Hold the strain with your arms. Lift your legs, straight bends," he firmly told her. He helped lift her legs with hands under both ankles. On his knees, he looked up between her slim thighs, watching the tight shorts pull at her crotch. The top was cupping her breasts, massaging the nipples into erect little bumps, with every move.
Jenny felt the too small shorts, gripping her body, wondering why she had worn them. It had been a long time ago when lewd comments from the guys had put her off wearing them again. Now she was a mature, married woman, they should have been trashed. She felt exposed and embarrassed.
It was a good idea to see her body being worked on in the gym, but not for Brian to see!
"Relax," he told her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, with a more firm tone of voice.
The influence of the juice was wearing off. "Massaging your legs, the muscles are taught," he said, trying to sound casual.
His big calloused, workman like hands, were working their way up to her thighs, and she didn't like it. He vigorously worked on her calves then gripped her knees hard, to work into the ligaments. Underneath her knee his fingers stroked gently. The overall sensation was good and so she relaxed a little. His hands, reaching up over her thighs, brought on a need to bring them together, but she was still held firmly by the weights.
She felt vulnerable and helpless in his strong hands and that feeling was doing something to her. His hands were rough and stimulating sending marvelous sensations through her. It was too good. She needed it to stop!
"OK! That's enough, Brian," Jenny said, surprised at this new tone of voice. It was light and breathy. At least she wasn't stuttering. She was also clearer on what she wanted and didn't want.
Brian could see her eyes widen, less hooded, telling him she was clear of the 'special juice' influencing her. Still, there would be a residual effect and he wondered how long that would last. It would be a relief not to be nagged all day.
"OK! Enough for today," he announced. Freeing her ankles then her hands he helped her up. He noticed she hadn't corrected him to say this was a one off.
He took a hold of her shoulders, from behind, and spoke close to her ear. "Hope you enjoyed it. Take it in what I said earlier, though you can forget I spoke if you like. Take a shower," he said, with a friendly slap to her bottom.
Jenny was about to tell him not to be so rude, but she hesitated, trying to remember what he had told her, and what he meant by forgetting it. It didn't mean she didn't have to take his advice, it meant something else. She quickly walked passed a full length mirror, avoiding looking into it. She dare not, since changing into the tight little shorts.
In the shower the soapy suds covered her nakedness. She took her time cleansing the perspiration from her soft skin, after the work out. Brian had worked her hard, and thinking of his rough hands made her shiver. The image of her body stretched out, helpless before him, was naughty, yet it was difficult to suppress.
Quickly dressing she avoided him, escaping through the kitchen into the garage. She drove to a mall in a pensive mood. A long shopping trip spending money, pampering her-self, would put the distasteful experience behind her.
In an exclusive store the assistant sighed on seeing the familiar, awkward woman enter. She braced herself, forced to thinkof the commission, before approaching her.
"Good morning, how may I help you today?" she asked, forcing a smile.
"I'm not sure, something different," Jenny said, hesitating for a moment. It was unlike her to be anything but demanding, usually knowing exactly what she was looking for.
"Underwear, I'll start with that and then we'll see," she added, looking around, as though mesmerized by the wide range of expensive garments.
Shown the usual sensible sets of bra's and panties she wore, Jenny shook her head. "Something more, feminine," she proposed, feeling confused and unable to describe what she meant.
Looking at the dowdy conservative clothes, the assistant decided to shock her, with something out of the woman's comfort zone, as well as being very expensive. "These are pure silk, very comfortable," she smiled.
Jenny flushed red, meaning to put the young woman in her place at such a suggestion, only to find she was nodding her head. Why she hadn't refused was mystifying. The small red panties with a half cup bra couldn't possibly be worn, however comfortable they might be.
The smile on the woman's face was annoying, as though expecting her to refuse, so maybe that was the reason she consented.
"These would be an ideal accompaniment," the assistant said, holding up a garter belt with sheer red stockings.
The whole ensemble was expensive, yet in Jenny's opinion, it was something a slut would wear. Again she nodded unable to refuse the suggestion.
The young assistant had been surprised, at first then warmed to the theme; especially as the customer seemed unable refuse every suggestion. It was easy to see the woman was out of her depth. The poor thing was probably hoping to regain a husband's interest, in a failing marriage.
"This dress is perfect for you," the assistant enthused. The customer looked embarrassed, maybe even a little hot. It was short and light, floating around the stocking tops, if she dare wear them underneath.
The assistant suppressed a little giggle, disguising it with a hand to her mouth and a cough.
Jenney glanced at the garment hardly daring to examine it. If she had, it would have been refused as being too short, too low cut and too revealing. Her usual sensible underwear would be seen underneath it. Instead of a sensible slip she was sold another expensive, brief set of underwear, with matching stockings.
Pushing her luck, she suggested a little skirt and blouse that would go with the red underwear. The assistant wouldn't wear such an outfit, even to a night club, and she figured the woman wouldn't wear it, even in the bedroom. A sale was a sale, she smiled to herself.
"You look as though you work out in a gym. Well, I have just the thing," she enthused. It had been delivered in error, and not put out on the shelves, for none of their exclusive clientele would consider such an item. This looked like a way of getting rid of one of the lewd garments.
Without revealing the item, as it was still wrapped up in cellophane, the assistant slipped it into one of the bags. The all in one body-stocking could be used for exercises, though it would cause a stir in a public gym.
She had taken one home, free of charge, as the store owner was pleased to get rid of them. Her boyfriend hadn't complained, and she was sure this woman's husband wouldn't either.
Feeling flushed from the embarrassment of purchasing such naughty items, Jenny rushed off home, instead of stopping off for the usual coffee and a Danish pastry. On the drive home she was in a state of confusion. Why this had happened, why she had bought such distasteful clothes, and why she was feeling so hot. It was all very disturbing.
Jenny didn't bother unpacking the clothes. She would take great pleasure in returning them, denying the young woman's commission, and complaining about her to the manager.
In the kitchen she made a cup of coffee, and Brian walked in.
"Been shopping?" he asked.
"Yes! Not that it's any of your business. I see you've managed to drag yourself in, once the coffee has been made," she said. "If you must stay here, you need to help around the house more," she added.
"I'm stuck here for the moment. Don't you worry yourself, I'll be gone as soon as I can," he retaliated. "You could make the whole situation easier by changing your attitude. Don't you ever smile?" he asked, with a big grin on is face.
Jenny turned away from the unpleasant man. She knew better than to spar with him, as he seemed to have an answer for everything recently. He could be charming, though she knew underneath it he was an out and out rogue. He managed to keep within the law, only just.
For the rest of the day they kept out of each others way. In her bedroom she unpacked the morning's shopping bags, ready to hang them up, forgetting the idea of returning the items. Holding up one of the packs of stockings, she decided to try them on.
They would be more comfortable than tights. The restriction of tights, and the heat of her sex, made them uncomfortable. With thin thighs it meant wearing a garter belt too, to hold them up. She remembered for a fleeting moment, Brian commenting, that they were healthier, and that she should wear them.
Next morning she decided to find some excuse to throw him out. Something unpleasant happened yesterday, though it was difficult to pinpoint exactly. Every time she tried to concentrate on what it was that bothered her, the idea slipped away.
The gym could be missed for once, while she concentrated on getting rid of that horrible man. Instead of wearing the usual sweats she changed into a pair of designer jeans and a comfortable blouse.
Hearing him in the kitchen she thought he was trying to make amends by preparing breakfast. There was no way he was going to get around her. He would be told it was pointless trying to make up for his slovenly behavior like this, for she didn't eat anything at this time of day. She would concentrate on getting him out of her home, and her life.
"Sit down, I've made a special juice for you," he firmly told her.
Jenny sat, with the idea of lulling him into a false sense of security. He was so full of himself this morning, whistling a pleasant tune, while bustling around her kitchen; it was all so very annoying. She would take great pleasure in finding a way of getting rid of the oaf.
"I don't eat breakfast, I only drink juice before working out," she scathingly told him.
"Well then, here is some of my 'special juice', just for you," he smiled.
She had watched him juicing the fruit and vegetables making sure he hadn't spat into it. She pursed her lips, taking a sip, ready to tell him it was foul. Instead she took another sip then began to gulp it down, until finished.
"You are hungry," he said, pushing a plate of fried breakfast in front of her.
He watched her forking down the meal of eggs, over easy, with bacon, hash browns and pancakes. "Did you get the clothes yesterday?" he asked. He was pleased to see her nod; obviously too hungry to speak.
"Now you're finished you can get changed, hurry up," Brian said, with a slap to her shapely rear.
She soon came back wearing the summer dress. An outline of the brief underwear was tantalizing, with her small breasts pushed up into a deep cleavage, showing off the nipples. Even so, in the elegant dress, she didn't look like a slut; rather she held a demure stance, looking timid if anything.
Jenny had looked at herself in the mirror, before returning to the kitchen, and baulked at what she saw. How could she wear such an atrocious outfit! A wave of confusion swamped the anger, and a strange compulsion pushed her out, toward the kitchen.
She always felt sure of herself, though right then, she felt embarrassed and vulnerable.
"There you are, at last, let me get a good look at you," Brian said.
In an agony of dismay she turned around, swirling the little dress up, feeling awful at showing herself off to this coarse man. The low morning sun shone through the thin cotton, showing off the brief underwear. She pressed her legs together and wondered at the unfamiliar feeling of straps over her thighs.
Unable to look down at herself before him, she fidgeted and discovered what it was. She was wearing stockings and suspenders! It was a surprise, for she didn't remember even buying them, let alone putting them on. Nervously she adjusted the top of the dress then quickly brought her hand away, after realizing the hand had been fondling a breast.
Feeling faint she leant against a worktop. Suddenly she stood straight up, away from the worktop. She had just discovered her bare bottom! The usual sensible panties had been replaced by a thong. What the hell was going on here? She would have to get back to the bedroom and change.