The intimidating Mrs. Taylor

"Hey Simon, is that you?" Mom, calls as I return home from a run.

"Yeah, Mom, it's me," I call back. "Have you seen my phone?"

I'm waiting in nervous excitement for a call about a job that I recently attended an interview for. It's almost five in the evening and they said that I would hear back by the end of the day. The anticipation has been torturing me for days. I went for a run, as a way of killing some time and to take my mind off things for a while. The only issue being that I forgot to take my phone with me when I left.

"I haven't," Mom calls back. "But I thought I heard something vibrating a little while ago."

"Fuck!" I exclaim.

I rush upstairs to my room, as that's the last place I can remember having it. I burst in and immediately start searching the most likely places it could be.

"Come on!" I say anxiously. "Where is it?"

I can't see it anywhere. I can't see it anywhere, so I start pulling my bedsheets off and throwing stuff onto the floor in a frantic search. Mom suddenly appears in the doorway.

"Well?" She asks expectantly.

"I can't find my phone!" I cry.

"I think it might have been downstairs when I heard it," she replies.

"Ah!" I reply in sudden realisation. "Kitchen!"

I jump up and rush towards the doorway, almost knocking Mom over as I barrel my way past her. This isn't just my first job, it's my future. The company isn't just employing me, they're going to train me up and put me through all my certifications. It's the kind of business that if you give them five years, they'll give you a career for life. I'd never been sold on the idea of going to university, and I've been pinning all my hopes on this coming through.

I race down the stairs, stumbling on the third step from the bottom, but manage to save myself just in time. I rush towards the kitchen almost taking the hinges off the door as I burst through it. I hurriedly scan the usual places where I would've left it, spotting it lying on the table top. I quickly rush over and grab it.

The second I press the fingerprint sensor to open my phone I see the icon for missed calls along with an answerphone message. I quickly press the icon for answerphone and press the dial button.

Within seconds the automated voice starts, though it immediately begins to frustrate me as it slowly makes its way through its dialog. I repeatedly press the number on my keypad for messages, but it's too soon. And I have to wait in agony as the recording continues.

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, the recording ends and begins to list the options available to me. I press the number one on my keypad, and the recording pauses briefly.".

The recording slowly says, "You received a call today at fifteen forty p.m." It then proceeds to slowly read out the phone number.

"Why?" I exclaim in frustration. "Just play the fucking message!"

Finally, the recording finishes reciting the number.

"Hi, Simon, it's Maxwell Richardson from ITNRP. I was hoping to catch you before the weekend. If you could call me back on this number before half five today that'd be great. Thanks."

The message fills me with hope but I do my best to hold it inside. It could still be a rejection. I immediately hang up and dial the number from my missed calls. The phone begins to ring. It rings several times, each ring heightening my almost debilitating anxiety.".

"Hello?" The familiar voice says.

"Hi, Maxwell, this is Simon Thomas. I received a message for me to call you," I nervously respond.

"Yes, Simon," he replies. "How are you?"

"I'm good thanks," I reply, almost ready to burst.

"Good...look I won't beat about the bush. I'm delighted inform you that you've been successful in your application and we're looking forward to having you join us...Should you still want to that is?" he says triumphantly.

"Of course, I do," I reply. "Thank you."

Relief and joy surge through me. My mind blanks, and the rest of the call becomes a blur. Luckily, he says he'll send me an email with all the details. I thank him one last time and hang up the call.

"Fucking get in!" I shout before letting out a loud cheer.

Mom appears in the doorway, sporting a huge smile.

"Did you get it?" She asks hopefully.

"Yeah!" I shout in glee.

"Oh my God!" She exclaims as she rushes towards me, throwing her arms around me. She gives me a big squeeze as she jumps for joy. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks mom," I reply.

"I knew you could do it," she replies.

"I know," I reply sarcastically.

"We're going to have to celebrate," she replies.

"Yeah," I reply.

"How about a BBQ tomorrow?" She replies. "Get your friends over and have a good piss up. Yeah?"

"Sounds good to me," I reply.

"I'm so proud of you," she shrieks in a giddy voice.

Mom and I open a few drinks to celebrate. Later, I head out with my friends, and the celebrations go late into the night.

The next day mom and I head to the shops to buy in the supplies for the afternoon. Mom goes all out, spending hundreds on packs of different kinds of meats and several cases of beer, easily more than we'd be able to drink in a day. Add in the snacks, we barely have enough room in her car to fit it all.

We arrive home just after half eleven and begin to unload the car. It's a perfect day for a BBQ, the suns out, barely a cloud in the sky or a breath of wind and the temperatures climbing by the minute. I carry a couple of cases of beer into the house before making my way back to the car. I pass Mom, who's heading to the house with a few packs of meat.

"Hi, Simon," Mrs. Taylor says with a smile as she passes.

"Hi, Mrs. Taylor," I reply.

"How many times Simon," she replies in a disapproving tone. "Call me Leanne."

"Sorry, Leanne," I reply.

"Are you having a party?" she asks with a kind smile on her face.

"Yes, we are," mom interrupts as she arrives back at the car. "Simons just got a new job."

"Oh, wow," she replies, "Congratulations"

"Thanks," I reply.

"And here's me thinking that you were still at school," she replies.

"No, I've just left college," I reply. "I'm nineteen in a few months."

"Doesn't time fly?" She replies. "Did you not fancy going to university?"

"Nah," I reply bluntly. "The uni lifestyle was never for me. Besides this is way better for me."

"What will you be doing?" She asks curiously.

"I'll be working for ITNRP." I reply proudly. "They're going to train me up as I work for them. In a few years I'll be able to work almost anywhere I want."

"I knew a guy who worked for ITNRP," she replies.

"I bet you did," I hear my mother mutter under her breath.

"Ah yeah, who?" I ask curiously.

"You know what," she replies. "I can't for the life of me remember."

"Ah right," I reply.

"So, you're into your computers, are you?" She asks.

"Yeah, computers, networking, pretty much anything really," I reply.

"I don't suppose you could take a look at my old laptop, could you?" she asks. "The bloody thing won't connect to the internet. I installed an update, but since then I keep getting this page cannot be displayed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Yeah sure," I reply. "I'll probably be hungover tomorrow but I could probably look at it Monday night if you like?"

"Monday's perfect," she replies enthusiastically. "I'll be in all evening so pop around whenever suits you."

"Okay, we'd better be going, the meats getting warm," mom interjects.

"No problem," Leanne replies. "I've got to go drop the kids off at my sisters anyway...Thanks Simon, I'll see you Monday."

"Yeah, bye," I reply, giving a small wave.

She walks off and I turn towards the car. I look inside to grab the remaining meat but soon realise there's none left.

"Eh, mom?" I say in confusion. "All the meats in the house."

"Yeah, I know," she replies bluntly. "I just wanted to get rid of her."

"Why?" I ask, feeling slightly confused. "She was just being nice."

"You know I don't like her Simon," she replies abruptly. "The woman's a whore...She's probably dropping those kids off so she can whore herself out tonight."

"She's a prostitute?" I ask, feeling confused.

"No... at least I don't think so. She's just a lonely middle-aged ex-housewife whose husband left her. From what I've heard she spreads her legs for any man that'll buy her a drink."

"Okay," I reply awkwardly.

"And I'm not happy that you agreed to go around and fix her laptop," she says sharply.

"I thought she meant she'd bring it over for me to look at it," I reply defensively. "I can just not go."

"The last thing we need is her turning up at the house, making everything awkward. Just go but when you do, make sure you're in and out sharpish."

"Alright," I reply.

I pick up a couple more cases of beer and carry them into the house, slightly amused by Mom's 'in and out' line, given Mrs. Taylor's reputation.

Personally, I don't have a problem with Leanne. She's always been friendly towards me. She moved into our street around four years ago after she divorced her husband. The one thing I have found weird about her, is that she has a really nice house and a fairly new Jaguar XJR. But I've never seen her go to work or show any signs that she even has a job. I can't help but think, given the new information mom told me about her that maybe she is a whore.

I remember the day she moved in, me and my friends were playing football in the street as she pulled up outside her house. We all stopped and watched her as she stepped out of her car. An attractive, 5'7, blonde hair always worn in a ponytail, blue eyes, curvy child baring hips, a thin waist and an ample chest probably somewhere between a C and a D cup.

Today she appears a little older, although still quite attractive. She's probably in her mid to late forties, and you get the feeling her looks are beginning to wane slightly. She's always immaculately turned out and clearly takes pride in her appearance.

But it's her chest, most notably her breasts, that have undergone the biggest transformation. Shortly after she moved in, I saw her arrive home in a taxi. As she climbed out of the car she was clearly in some discomfort. I was surprised when I noticed how much her breasts had grown as she stood up straight.

A few months later while walking past her house on my way to my friend's house, she came out of the side door to her house wearing a swimsuit, while collecting a parcel. Her breasts looked enormous, much larger than her frame seemed capable of supporting. When I look at them, I'm reminded of the breasts of porn stars from the 90s and early 2000s. Two large orbs hang down from her chest, and over the years, she has proudly exhibited them. From, bikinis to tight tank tops to strapless dresses. It seemed that if there was an opportunity to flaunt them, she would. And as the years went by, they just kept getting bigger and bigger.

Today, her breasts are huge, way bigger than a DD. My closest reference, being the size of my friend Ian's mom's bra. She's a 36DD, and there's no comparison; Leanne is slimmer too.

But what often catches my attention are her nipples. Whether she's wearing a bra or not, they're usually poking through, as if nothing can contain them and they've always been a big source of distraction whenever I see her.

The BBQ goes off perfectly. My friend and I have a fantastic time, stuffing our faces and drinking until we pass out well into the early hours of the morning. The next morning, I wake up lying under the kitchen table, severely hungover and feeling rather sorry for myself. I lie there until mom comes down and tells me to go to bed. Somehow, I muster up enough strength to stand up and make my way up the stairs to my bedroom, where I stay for the rest of the day.

The next day, in the afternoon, I head to my new workplace to take some documents and sign my contract before heading home. I head out for a run just before dinner, and afterward, I relax and watch some TV before heading to Mrs. Taylor's.

"Right, Mom, I'm going," I say as I pop my head around the door to the living room."

"You here now!" Mom orders.

I step into the room.

"What?" I respond nonchalantly.

"Never mind what!" She replies aggressively. "You go, get it fixed and get out. No hanging about. And if she tries anything, you leave... Understand?"

"Yes, Mom," I reply. Rolling my eyes, I add, "Don't worry, nothing's going to happen anyway"

"You're damn right nothing's going to happen," she snaps.

"She's probably nothing like the stories you've heard," I reply, trying to reassure her.

"I'll tell you this about those stories...they're all fucking true," she replies, her eyes bulging out of her head as she stares right through me... "So just watch yourself."

"Okay, I'll be careful," I reply while still in disbelief. "Bye."

I walk out of the room, open the front door, and step outside. I casually walk the thirty seconds or so it takes to reach the front door of Mrs. Taylor's house. I pause for a second, straighten my cloths and press the doorbell.

It doesn't take long for the door to open. As it does Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway, greeting me with a large smile. She's wearing black leggings and a light green top which, is clearly struggling to contain her giant breasts.

"Hi, Simon," she says, gesturing for me to enter. "Come in!"

"Hi, Mrs. Taylor," I reply.

"Simon," she replies sternly. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leanne?"

"Sorry, Leanne," I reply.

"That's okay. You were raised to be respectful, I like that," she replies. "But it's Leanne from now on, okay?"

"Okay," I reply.

She ushers me into her living room and sits me down on the sofa before walking over to a chair.

"I don't know what's wrong with the computer," she says as she kneels on a chair, reaching over the back of it.

I sit there unable to take my eyes off her round arse as it points in my direction. Her figure has a nice shape; I can tell she puts some effort into maintaining it. However, I can also tell it's just starting to lose some of its pertness. She seems to be struggling to pull out what she's got hold of. She really reaches forward and as she does her leggings pull tight and for a second, I'm convinced I see the outline of her pussy through the material.

"There it is," she says as she stands back up, holding a laptop case. Her face is red and flustered as she lets out a long sigh. "The strap was hooked under the chair."

She walks towards me and unzips the case before pulling out the laptop and handing it to me. I place it down on the coffee table as she fishes in the bag again, she pulls out the charger and hands the charger end to me. I watch again as she takes the plug, turns side on to me and bends over again to plug it into the wall. I can't help but notice as her breasts shift beneath her while she reaches down.

As she stands back up, I quickly snap my head back to face the laptop before pressing the power button. I watch as the laptop comes to life, beginning with its post which is soon followed by the Windows loading screen. Leanne sits down next to me as I wait for it to load.

"Sorry," she says. "It's pretty old, so this'll take a while."

"That's okay," I reply, desperately trying to keep my composure and eyes forward.

I wait for what feels like an eternity for the laptop to load. As it does Leanne shuffles forward to the edge of her seat. Even though I'm focusing on the screen, I notice her presence in my peripheral vision. I can't help but feel agitated, repeating in my mind not to lose focus as I diagnose the problem.

It takes me seconds to find the problem. Upon opening the Wi-Fi options, I see that although the laptop is seeing all the routers in the area it's not connected to any.

""It's..." I cough to clear my throat. "It's not connected to your Wi-Fi. Which one is yours?"

Leanne leans forward to get a better look at the screen, and her arm brushes past mine as she does. I can feel myself tense up as she raises her hand and points out her router on the screen. I click the network and it asks for the password.

"Oh my God is that all it is?" She says in frustration.

"The passwords p...probably on the router," I stammer.

"No, someone changed it for me," she replies. "It's Leanne nineteen seventy-eight, capital L."

"Okay," I reply.

"And don't you dare do the math!" She exclaims playfully.

"I won't," I reply.

I enter the password and watch as it authenticates and connects.

"There you go," I say. "Back online."

"Oh, that's fantastic," she exclaims loudly as she throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly. I feel her firm breasts envelop my arm as she does. "You're a star."

I freeze in place as she squeezes me, and at this moment, I become acutely aware of how intense the situation is. Seemingly sensing this, Leanne releases me and slowly backs away.

"Do I make you nervous Simon?" She asks cautiously.

"No...no. L...Leanne," I stammer.

It's only now that I realize I must have forgotten to breathe for a little while, as I start to feel a little lightheaded. I quickly take a few deep breaths to replenish the oxygen in my lungs.

"Yes, I do," she replies. "It's okay you know? I'm not going to eat you."

"No...its...its okay," I reply.

"I know what they say about me," she adds in an accepting tone. "Only some of it's true."

I glance in her direction and see her smiling reassuring. I only manage to look her in the face for a second before my eyes are dragged down towards her breasts. I instantly catch myself staring before hurriedly looking back towards the laptop.

"I..." I say along with a high-pitched sound like my balls have just dropped. A sound I haven't made in years. I gulp to clear my throat and take a few deep breaths to compose myself. "I'll just check to make sure everything else is up to date."

"It's okay," she replies reassuringly. "You can look at my breasts if you want."

I freeze, my hands on the laptop unable to move a muscle.

"I didn't get breasts this big for them not to be looked at," she continues. "And I know what you men are like around big breasts."

She sits forward and I can see her breast appear in my peripheral vision again.

"Simon," she says. "It's okay to look."

I slowly turn and face her. Trying my best to look her in the eyes. I can see she's smiling at me as she turns her upper body to face me. I fight the urge to look down as hard as I can. Leanne sits up and thrusts her chest towards me.

"Just look," she says. "Get it out of your system."

I look down and see her giant breasts facing me. Theres just a matter of only a few feet between me and them. Time seems to slow down around me as I become transfixed by their sight.

"Do you like them, Simon?" She asks.

This snaps me back to reality. I look her in the eye before quickly looking away.

"Yeah, they're nice," I reply awkwardly.

"Well don't be shy if you want to look at them. I don't mind," she replies. "But it's our little secret, okay? We don't want your mother finding out...I know she doesn't like me."

"I don't know what you mean," I reply abruptly.

"Really Simon?" She replies. "I heard her little comment the other day... The I'm not surprised one."

"I'm sorry," I reply, not really knowing what to say.

"It's okay," she replies. "You didn't say it...Like I said I know what people say about me. She's a whore, she has a different guy every night. She fucked this guy, that guy, that person's husband. I've heard it all."

"Okay," I reply awkwardly.

"What does your mother say about me?" She asks curiously.

"I can't say," I reply defensively.

"Come on, I'm a big girl I can take it," she replies. "Like I said, I've heard it all before."

Sensing that she's only going to keep asking, I take a breath and steady myself.

"She said you're a lonely middle-aged ex-housewife whose husband left her. And you'll spread your legs for any man that'll look at you," I reply.