Mary's Evolution: Book 01byfurryfan©
The scope of this story is too wide for this to be submitted in one piece and placed in any one category.
What I plan to do is offer "Mary's Evolution" in a series of stories that stand alone, with the content of the story reflected in the category it is submitted in.
Chapter One: Sometimes he gives me the creeps.
"Who gives you the creeps?" Mary asked, as she watched her friend close the bedroom door behind them.
"My dad," Brianna replied, peeling off her clothes as they got ready for bed.
The bedroom had been shared by Brianna and her sister, but after Bryce had gone off to college, the furnishings had remained the same. A wise choice, because since Mary spent so many nights over, it was almost like she lived there.
Brianna and Mary were an unlikely pair, being the exact opposites in almost every way. Brianna was blonde, lean and lanky, while Mary's hair was dark brown and her body short and Rubenesque. Brianna was outgoing and bubbly, while Mary was usually quiet and almost sullen. In school, Brianna lived up to the blonde stereotype, while Mary routinely made the Honor Roll.
"Why would he give you the creeps?" Mary asked. "He seems nice enough."
"Haven't you noticed the way he stares at your chest?" Brianna asked.
"You're crazy," Mary answered, watching the her impossibly beautiful friend peel off her clothes right in front of her, like always.
Of course, when you had a body like Brianna, it must be fun to show it off. So flawless and perfect, and so much the opposite of her own dumpy body that Mary could never feel jealousy toward her. Brianna wasn't just way better looking than herself, she was better looking than just about everybody.
"Course, if I had titties like yours he might look at me that way too, and that would be so icky!" Brianna giggled, squeezing her perky pointed breasts before pulling her nightie up over her head and diving under the covers of her bed.
"Night!" Brianna chirped before clicking off the light and pulling the bed sheet up over her head.
"Night," Mary replied, and only then in the safety of darkness would she undress herself.
Even the moonlight streaming in through the windows was a bit much for Mary, although it allowed her to see Brianna's blonde curls falling over the sheet clearly, and during the night if the sheet came down...
Mary shivered as she thought these things, because she wasn't a lesbian, or at least she didn't think that she was. When it came to Brianna, well, who knows? That one night that they had climbed into the same twin bed, giggling after they had drunk some of Brianna's father's scotch, was one she would never forget.
They had giggled and wrestled around a little, and Mary remembered that moment when she felt Brianna's hands on her breasts, and how she did the same to her. Then their thighs found their way between each other's legs, and they humped into each other, cumming at almost the same time.
Not a word was ever spoken about that night, and it never repeated itself, although Mary really wanted that to happen again. To be able to hold that petite little body close, and explore it once again - but it was apparently just a one time thing.
And who could blame Brianna for that, Mary wondered as she unhooked her bra and eased it off her shoulders. If Brianna was going to go lez, she could sure find somebody way hotter than her. There wasn't much call for short, dumpy girls with unattractive faces.
Heck, if it wasn't for Brianna, Mary figured she wouldn't have been with any guys ever. Usually the guys that would be hitting on Brianna would have a friend, and they would get stuck with her. The guys were never all that great either, but at least it was something.
A little necking, a little petting, and the guy would get a hand job if he was a decent enough person. Oh, there was the few times Mary gave head, but that was it. They never wanted to take Mary out where they could be seen by others. In the back seat or in the woods? That was different. The guys would paw at her breasts and try to get in her pants like wild men, and afterward they would make fun of her.
What Brianna had said - about her father staring at her chest. Could it be? Mary had suspected it once or twice, but thought it was a case of her active imagination running wild, merely the product of her fantasy world, but now that Brianna had mentioned it, perhaps it was true.
The "accidental" brushing against her that he had done from time to time, and the other times she had figured Mr. Mullin had been just daydreaming when she would see his eyes on her chest. Were they accidents? Had he been daydreaming?
Baloney, Mary finally muttered. A good looking man who was married to a woman like Mrs. Mullin, still looking like a model in her forties, with a body just as lithe and catlike as her daughter? Why would he give a second thought to somebody like her? Especially when she usually wore frumpy clothes to try and mask her doughy body.
Not even five foot tall, and weighing - well, too much for her height, Mary knew she was no model. Built like a fireplug, with a face that had a better chance of stopping a clocks than a heart. All boobs and butt, and while she wasn't morbidly obese and was rather solidly built, she could stand to lose 30 pounds or so.
Still wouldn't help much, Mary thought while she pulled the over-sized T-shirt up over her head and down over her plump frame. There would still be the nose, and those faint downy sideburns that swirled around her ears to contend with, along with the glasses and the thick eyebrows, not to mention all of that hair everywhere, especially between her legs.
Go to sleep, Mary told herself, and she did eventually, gazing over at Brianna before drifting off to dreamland.
Chapter Two: Sweet dreams.
Mary squirmed, her body twisting a little as she let out a faint groan, in the midst of a very sweet dream. She felt her nipples swell as her breasts were massaged roughly, and the hand sliding down over her belly toward the elastic of her panties felt so real that Mary woke up with a start.
"Ssh!" said the voice from the side of the bed, and the hand that had been massaging her breasts through the t-shirt gently nudged her back down on the bed.
It wasn't a dream. It was real, and just before Mary was going to call out "Bree?" she looked over at the bed near the window and saw the blonde curls peeking out from the top of the sheet.
It was her father. Mary could smell the cologne he wore, and now his hand was going under the elastic of her panties. He let out a soft "Ooh!" when her fingers slid right into the dense jungle of hair that began right there.
Mr. Mullin raked his fingers through Mary's thick delta while his other hand worked Mary's t-shirt up as best he could. Still in shock, Mary made no attempt to stop him and may even have helped him as he pulled it up over her breasts and up to her neck.
Now his finger was inside of Mary, working her clit vigorously while bending over to suck on the fat bullet-like nipple which was throbbing in his mouth. Mary started to cum, and brought her hand up to her mouth and bit down on the heel of it while her body shivered and spasmed, shaking the bed with the violent movements until she finally went limp.
Mary felt the wet hand slip out of her panties, and now her shirt was going higher, Mr. Mullins pulling it up over her head while pinning her left arm up near the headboard. He was sucking furious on her nipple while he held her shoulder down with his hand under her arm.
Mary shivered as she felt Mr. Mullin's fingers stroking the thick dense stubble that coated her armpit, and her initial embarrassment of not having shaved in a couple of days was replaced by confusion when his mouth let go of her nipple for a minute.
Mary shivered when she felt his tongue slide all over her already moist underarm for a time before returning to her breast. She could hear a slapping sound, a sound that stopped when Mr. Mullin's soft grunts became a prolonged exhale, followed by him getting up from the side of the bed and leaving the room as silently as he apparently had entered it.
Mary looked back over at Brianna, who had slept right through it all, and after pulling her shirt back down, Mary stared up at the ceiling for a long time until sleep came.
Chapter Three: The morning after.
"Good morning everyone!" Mr. Mullin said as he entered the kitchen, wrapping his arm around his wife's hip and giving her a kiss before going over to Brianna and kissing her on the top of the head.
"Grr," Brianna said, still in her grouchy mode as she pawed at her cereal.
"Morning Mary," he said with a smile, and Mary smiled back and nodded, clutching her bathrobe around her neck as she did.
Breakfast at the Mullin house wasn't like it was at Mary's, which was why she loved being there. Everybody talked to each other and there were kisses and hugs, unlike the sullen atmosphere that prevailed around Mary's house.
It was different now though, Mary thought as she watched Mr. Mullin move around the room. Dressed for work in a brown suit, it was hard for Mary to grasp the fact that this dignified business man had actually done what he did last night.
About six foot tall and still in decent shape for a guy pushing fifty, he resembled David Letterman in a way. Could this really have been the same man that knelt beside her bed last night, sucking on her breasts and fingering her? Even licking her armpit?
Even when she woke up that morning, Mary still thought it could have been a dream, until she saw the dried semen on the hardwood floor. Maybe he was drunk. They had wine with dinner last night. Maybe he was drunk and doesn't even remember what happened.
"Gotta take a shower," Brianna mumbled as she got up from the table.
Mr. and Mrs. Mullin both left the house as Brianna went into the bathroom, so Mary cleared the breakfast dishes off of the table. Car engines started in the driveway, and Mary saw Mrs. Mullin pull out of the driveway in her Lexus.
While Mary watched the driveway for Mr. Mullin's black Town Car, she heard the door open and the sound of footsteps come up the steps. Mary turned and saw Mr. Mullin at the top of the stairs, glancing down the hall before coming over to Mary at the sink.
Mary spun around to the sink and began rinsing off the bowls, her hands shaking so badly that she could barely hold onto them. Then Mr. Mullin was right behind her, his hands on her shoulders as he towered over her.
"Did you like last night, Mary?" Mr. Mullin asked, his hands sliding down the sleeves of her robe while his breath burned the top of her head.
Mary didn't answer but instead tried to brace herself against the counter, her heart pounding like a jackhammer while her head spun. Mr. Mullin was leaning into her, and he could feel his erection pressing into her back as he opened her bathroom and brought his hands onto the nightshirt.
"You've got such incredible breasts," Mr. Mullin grunted, his hands kneading her globes roughly. "They're even bigger than I had imagined. You won't believe how long I've wanted to do this. Watching you grow up over the years has been sweet torture."
"Why?" Mary managed to say.
"You aren't a kid anymore, Mary" Mr. Mullin said. "This is all legal, as long as you want it, and it seems to me that you like it. Like it a lot."
"No," Mary whimpered. "You're married."
"It's you I want," Mr. Mullin grunted, his pawing of Mary's breasts becoming almost maniacal. "Are you staying over tonight?"
"No," Mary said.
"Next weekend, I guess," Mary said, writhing as he rubbed into her from behind.
"I can't that wait that long, Mary," he said, exhaling as he continued to knead her breasts from behind. "I have to have you."
"I can't," Mary whimpered, looking down at the hands that were working over her breasts over the shirt, and at her nipples which were so stiff against the fabric.
"I'm not like the boys you've had," Mr. Mullin said. "I'll make love to you like none of them ever could."
"I just can't," Mary said, sobbing a little, wanting to tell him that he was wrong about her but was unable to speak.
"Shit," Mr. Mullin hissed, as the sound of Brianna coming out of the bathroom made him jump back away from Mary.
"Here," Mr. Mullin said, pulling a card out of his wallet and attempting to hand it to Mary before setting it on the counter next to the sink. "Call my cell tonight. Around eight. Please."
Then Mr. Mullin was gone, hustling down the stairs and out the door while Mary tried to get herself together. The business card with Mr. Mullin's phone number on it went into the bathrobe pocket just before Brianna came back into the kitchen.
Chapter Four: The phone call.
Mary didn't call at eight like Mr. Mullin had asked, instead just staring at the phone in her hand as she sat on her bed, rehearsing what she was going to say. It was almost 8:30 before she finally got up enough courage to call the number, and when Mr. Mullin picked it up before the first ring had finished, Mary was so shocked that she nearly hung up on him.
"Yes, it's me," she replied, her voice almost a whisper.
"Can't you talk? Aren't you alone?"
"Yes," Mary replied. "My voice - mouth is dry."
"I was afraid you wouldn't call," he said.
"Last night. You never told me how you felt about that, at least not in words. About us."
"Scared," Mary answered. "Shocked."
"But you liked it. I could tell that. You came so fast and so hard," Mr. Mullin said. "I can't wait until we're making love and you can make all the noise you want to when you cum."
"I - we can't do that."
"Too bad you aren't here right now," Mr. Mullin said. I'm all alone. Brianna's out on a date."
"Michael," Mary said softly.
"How come you didn't double with her?"
"Guess he doesn't have any friends that are really desperate," Mary said.
"Their loss. My gain, eventually, I hope," Mr. Mullin replied. "I've always hoped that you never would run into a man with refined tastes who can appreciate your beauty like I do. Selfish on my part, I know that, but the thought of any other guy touching you depresses me."
"I don't know why you're saying these things to me," Mary said. "I know what I look like."
"I don't think so," Mr. Mullin said. "I think that you're the most desirable woman I've ever met."
"Mr. Mullin, you happen to be married to a woman who is stone cold gorgeous, and comparing me to her is ludicrous. I have a mirror."
"First of all, Mary, I wish you would call me Greg. Second of all, that woman you call gorgeous is so unattractive to me that it makes my skin crawl. We haven't had sex in at least 4 years, and won't ever again most likely."
"That's not stopping her though," Mr. Mullin continued. "She's out getting fucked right now as we speak, I imagine. Her current boy toy is some graduate student from Kenya. Part of her around-the-world cock tasting tour I think."
"Mrs. Mullin?" Mary said in a stunned voice.
"Oh sure. My dearest Tracy is one of the city's most active and aggressive cougars," Mr. Mullin said. "I suppose that it's to her credit that you don't know. Hopefully Brianna doesn't know either. I've asked her to be discrete for Brianna's sake."
"So you tell your wife that it's okay to see other men?"
"Yes," he responded. "In the beginning that actually deterred her. You know - removing the "forbidden fruit" angle took a little bit of the excitement out of it for her, but since then she's had no problem fucking anybody and everybody. It's alright though, because she doesn't interest me in the least. It was almost like an arranged marriage from the start, and now just a marriage of convenience."
"And so you - like, go out and sleep with other women?" Mary asked.
"Yes, from time to time," Mr. Mullin said. "I've been unfaithful to my wife four times, unless you count what we did last night, and this morning. That would make five."
"I didn't do anything," Mary said.
"I guess that's true," Mr. Mullin said. "I'm counting on that to change next weekend. Aren't you and Brianna seeing each other at all before next weekend?"
"No," Mary said.
"But you must have dates of your own before then?"
"No," Mary said.
"I would love to see you. Just you and me, alone."
"I don't think that's a good idea," Mary said, her voice wavering.
"Why? You aren't afraid of me, are you. After all these years?" Mr. Mullin asked. "I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that. I only want to do what the boys do to you, only I'll do it better. Much better. I promise you that. The reason my wife and I don't have sex any more isn't because I'm no good in bed, believe me. It's because I don't find her attractive. Not like you, babe."
"I'm not like you think I am," Mary said.
"Haven't you ever been with an older man before?" Mr. Mullin asked.
"No, I mean I've never actually been..."
"Oh that's okay Mary, I understand. I know how girls are these days. Nothing to be embarrassed about," Mr. Mullin said. "Brianna's been on the pill for a couple years."
"Look, I have to go now," Mary said.
"Call me tomorrow, okay Mary? Same time?"
"Uh, yeah. If I can," Mary replied, hanging up the phone.
It was all too much to comprehend, Mary thought. What would Brianna think about this? Why was Brianna's father interested in her, of all people?
Chapter Five: The next call.
"You sound more relaxed this time," Mr. Mullin said.
"I still feel dirty about this," Mary said.
"You shouldn't be," he responded. "If anybody should feel dirty, it's me, and I don't. Some people might consider it wrong for a 47 year old man to be waiting around like a vulture until you turned 18. I don't. Besides, you were a woman long before that."
Mary remained silent as she sat on the edge of her bed.
"You still there?" Mr. Mullin asked. "Good. What are you wearing right now?"
"What am I wearing?" Mary asked, looking down at herself. "A t-shirt."
"Nothing else? No panties? No bra?"
"That sounds nice," Mr. Mullin said. "Must feel nice to get that bulky harness off of your breasts at the end of the day, doesn't it?"
"Uh, I guess."
"What size bra do you wear, Mary?" Mr. Mullin asked, and after a long silence... "Mary?... Mary?"
"Why do you want to know that?"
"Curious, I guess," Mr. Mullin replied. "Aren't you curious about things? Want to know how big my penis is?"
"Okay, let's get back to you. I'm guessing that you're about a 42DD. Am I right?"
"Am I close?"
"I guess. This is kinda embarrassing."
"I've already held them a couple of times, Mary, and they were spectacular," Mr. Mullin said. "44 maybe?"
"38," Mary finally said.
"Really?" Mr. Mullin replied. "Are you sure you're wearing the proper size? Have you ever been fitted for a bra by a professional?"
"God no," Mary said. "I'd be too embarrassed for that. I even order bras by mail because I'd be too ashamed to bring them up to the counter at the store and have people see what size I wear. I just keep buying bigger sizes and hope they fit."
"Embarrassed?" Greg exclaimed. "Of being an incredibly well developed woman? Is that why you never wear clothes that show off your body? That's crazy. And 38 seems way off. Of course, you're a rather small woman too. What cup size are you?
"Good god," Mr. Mullin muttered. "Must not be something you can buy in a department store, I guess. Amazing. All I've been looking at are a pair of pathetic 32A's all my life."
"I've wanted to get breast reduction surgery for a while, but Daddy wouldn't spring for it."
"Thank goodness for that," Greg said. "As you can tell, I''ve got a thing for big breasts, which is funny considering who I'm married to. You know what I would love to do? I'd love to buy you some nice bras. Love to watch you get fitted for them too."