Abby woke up to the unwelcome melody of her alarm, immediately anxious and aggravated for the school day ahead. Her phone read 6:00 AM – not an extra minute to spare on snoozing, but she rolled over in a knowingly futile attempt to catch a few extra winks. The high school senior had been kept up all night by noises from her mother’s room down the hall: noises she’d prefer not to a put a name to, but basically unmistakable in their tiny, two-bedroom home.
Abby rolled out of bed and stepped into her slippers. She shuffled into the hallway and smelled breakfast already cooking downstairs: surely her mother Tori’s boyfriend, Dan. Tori never got up before Abby, let alone early enough to have breakfast ready for her. While Abby appreciated the effort Dan put in, it was still weird adjusting to that much thoughtfulness. It only seemed to amplify her mother’s shortcomings.
Abby frowned in the bathroom mirror. Her blonde, straight hair framed a face that she found chubby and girlish, her baby bangs doing little to offset the adolescence of her façade. Her body, on the other hand, she thought too developed altogether. Since hitting puberty, Abby had been one of the bigger girls in her class, both in height and figure, leading to a surplus of shame and teasing from boys and girls alike.
Now eighteen, she continued to feel freakish and embarrassed when she inspected herself in the mirror: tits too big, tummy too plump, ass entirely too fat. And her gapless thunder thighs rubbed together as she walked, much to her dismay. Abby washed her face and met her gaze in the mirror.
“I am strong,” she told her reflection. “I am smart. I can do hard things.”
Dan stood at the stove frying up some sausages for breakfast. He was wearing a white t-shirt, white crew socks and white briefs.
“Morning, Abby.” He grinned over his shoulder at her, his kind eyes low and relaxed.
Still in her pajamas, Abby sat down at the small kitchen table in the center of the room. Dan had his back to her.
“Don’t laugh,” he said.
Abby fought back a giggle. “Where are your pants?”
“They’re all in the dryer, unfortunately,” said Dan. “You hungry? I’m cooking up some of my world-famous breakfast sausages.”
“Not really,” said Abby. She opened up her textbook and forced herself to study.
“You sure? Your mom loves these things.” He looked over his shoulder again. “Can’t seem to get enough.”
Before Dan, Tori had kept her dating life completely hidden from Abby. She never brought anyone home and certainly never spent the night anywhere else. Their house had been a somber, quiet place in the eight years since Abby’s father passed away. But Abby had grown accustomed to the stillness. While she felt sorry for her mother and occasionally resented her lack of effort, the hush of their home made for peaceful and productive studying, and plenty of blissful solitude for Abby…
…until about three months ago, when Tori had told Abby the news over breakfast.
“I have a new friend. And we think… I think… it’s time you two met.”
“A friend?”
“Yes, a… special friend.”
“You mean a boyfriend?”
“Yes. That’s what I mean.”
Abby picked at her scrambled eggs.
“Abby, no one is ever going to replace your father.”
Abby nodded, eyes on her food: watery scrambled eggs and two shriveled strips of bacon.
“You don’t even have to like him. But he’s a lovely man and he’s becoming a… big part of my life.”
“It’s okay. I’m just surprised.”
“He’d really like to meet you, too. He’s heard lots of great things about you.”
“Like what?”
“Like what a great student you are. That you’re on the swim team. He wanted to come to your birthday last week, but I figured we could have one last hurrah, just the two of us.”
Abby’s eighteenth birthday, like the past several, had been a sad affair. Just she and her mother, ordering pizza and watching movies. Tori had passed out in front of the TV with a slice of butter-cream cake in her lap.
Tori took her plate to the sink and rinsed it under the faucet.
“I know it’s strange, but you’re getting to be a grown-up now. It’s time I stopped hiding grown-up küçükçekmece escort things from you.”
That same night, Dan came over for dinner. When she met him at the door with her mother, Abby had to admit, he was a handsome man. He was tall and slim but broad-shouldered and very fit. Dan was a bit younger than her mother at 36, but already with some grey in his thick, medium-length hair. Stubble covered his face aside from his upper lip, which was adorned with a thick mustache that somehow added to his handsomeness rather than making him look like a total creep. He had an athlete’s strong jaw and the rough hands of a woodworker, despite the relatively soft, comfortable living he made as a creative director downtown. He was holding a bouquet of peonies: Abby’s favorite.
“Abby?” he said. “These are for you.”
Abby took the bouquet and felt her cheeks flush.
“Thank you.”
“Dan,” he said. He held out his hand. Abby shook it, feeling her little hand dwarfed in his large, calloused mitt.
“Abby,” she said.
Dan’s face stretched into a wide, warm smile.
Tori beamed.
Since that night, Dan had slowly become more of a fixture in the household. He slept over most nights, even though it doubled the commute from his downtown condo. Abby had to admit, her mother seemed happier. But it was strange going from no men at all for years to this one, nearly constant presence in their little home. She just wasn’t sure what Dan, a catch in any pond, was doing with her mother of all people.
She wasn’t sure what to make of Dan in general, for that matter. In the three months since he’d entered her life, Dan had become more of a parent than Tori had ever been: driving her to school early in the morning for swim practice, attending her meets, helping her study–he was the parent she’d never had. And while her fondness for Dan grew, so did her anxiety around him. She’d gone so long without a father figure in her life, without even a fraction of this much attention from her mother. How long could it possibly last?
Dan stepped toward her with the plate of sausages in one hand, shielding the sight of his skivvies. Abby giggled at the absurd sight.
“I said don’t laugh!” he chuckled.
“I’m trying!” said Abby.
“Just try one sausage,” he said. “I bet it’s the best you’ve ever tasted.”
He held the plate out from in front of his crotch, a mere foot from Abby’s face at eye level. The first thing she noticed was the smell, which stole the smile from her face. Rich, smoky but with a strong hint of ripe funk, it was overwhelming and made her nauseous. A vision of the time she accidentally walked into the boys’ locker room at the pool flashed through her head.
Next, the sight of the sausages themselves. Thick as soda cans and nearly a foot long each, the links were absurdly large. Between the sight and the smell, Abby felt a chill of discomfort run through her and she sat up straighter in her chair. Dan picked up one of the thick, sweaty sausages between his thumb and forefinger and plopped it on her plate. He placed the plate down on the table. Then she saw it.
Dan was practically spilling out of his underwear. The white cotton of his briefs strained to accommodate his thickness, the fabric stretched so thin that Abby could see the tan, pink and purple hues of his penis. He wasn’t even hard, she realized from the slight contortions his member had to make to stay in his underwear. His length would have snaked its way out onto his leg if he hadn’t apparently tucked the fat head up alongside his hip. Dan’s balls were similarly enormous, sitting heavy like stones at the base of his generous endowment.
Abby realized she was staring and quickly averted her gaze. She tried focusing on her textbook, but the array of shocking sights and smells was sending her into a spell of embarrassed dizziness. She felt her cheeks flush and hunched over her studies.
“Ya okay?” Dan said. He cocked his head in concern.
“Yes,” said Abby. She slouched further down in her chair.
“Well, enjoy!” Dan sat down and began to eat.
“Thanks.”
Abby looked down at küçükyalı escort the fat sausage on her plate and, for a second, could have sworn she saw it throb. She jumped in her seat.
“You sure you’re okay, kiddo?”
She put her hand to her chest for a second.
“It’s not gonna hurt ya.” He smiled at her again, his thick Tom Selleck mustache framing his wide mouth.
“I didn’t sleep very well,” said Abby.
“Sorry to hear that. You should eat up, then. You’ll need your strength. Big test today, right?”
The master bedroom door opened upstairs and Tori let out a big yawn. “My goodness!” she said. Dan grinned and his eyes widened slightly.
Tori descended the stairs and entered the kitchen wearing a similarly knowing smile. She looked exhausted but content, yesterday’s mascara smeary on her cheeks as though she’d been crying, but her sleepy grin suggested something more like prolonged laughter. She was wearing a sheer black chiffon over a black tank top and high-rise shorts.
Tori had struggled with her weight for most of Abby’s life, jumping from one diet fad to another. Doctors had been deeming her obese for years, and Tori was quick to warn her daughter that she “used to have a figure just like” hers, fueling Abby’s dedication to sports and moderation in her own diet. Abby couldn’t help but see her own curves as a harbinger of things to come, though she rarely ever saw her mother’s body in any kind of revealing light. A nurse Abby’s whole life, Tori wore baggy scrubs to work and was partial to bathrobes and muumuus around the house, anything she could don to disguise her figure.
That is, until this morning. Bathed in the early morning sunlight, Abby’s mother took on a shape she had never seen before. She was obviously overweight, even fat by most people’s standards, but Abby could see where she’d gotten her own curves. Her mother had an ample bosom and wide hips, curvier than most, and was as shapely as she was heavy. She was admittedly beautiful, too: her blonde hair in a pageboy bob framed a face that as pretty as it was sad. Even when smiling, Tori’s blue eyes betrayed an ocean of loneliness beneath the surface, and something seemed to tug at the corners of her smile.
But what struck Abby most this morning wasn’t the peculiar absence of immense sadness in her mother’s face, nor her unusual outfit. It was the sight of her mother’s ass. It was visibly enormous, even from the front: round, wide and jiggling with each step she took toward the breakfast table. Abby wondered how she’d never noticed it before. Had she really managed to keep it covered up all these years?
“I hardly slept at all last night,” said Tori.
“You and Abby both!” said Dan. He got up to greet his partner and the two kissed. Dan put his large right hand on Tori’s left butt cheek, hardly getting a handle on her huge posterior, and squeezed.
“Danny!” she giggled.
“Morning, dear,” he said.
Tori looked down at the table. Her glazed eyes widened.
“Big sausages! My favorite!”
“I was just telling Abby how much you love these.”
“Oh, I do. I love them so much. Abby, have you tried one of Dan’s big sausages yet?”
Abby stood up with a shot.
“May I be excused?”
“Sure, sweetie,” said Tori.
Abby rushed out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into the bathroom. She dropped her pants and sat down on the toilet, hunching over with the feeling like she was about to puke. Her head was swimming: the smell of the sausages, the stink of Dan’s crotch, his strong hands on her mother’s giant butt, all with the soundtrack of last night’s sounds on repeat in her head. In fact, the sounds had been playing in the background of her mind for days now, as they had been keeping her awake for several nights in a row: the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, complemented by Dan’s grunts and her mother’s moaning, all perfectly audible from the bedroom down the narrow hall of their thin-walled second floor.
The sounds were no mystery to Abby, but she did her best to ignore them, wearing headphones and blasting relaxing music in a futile attempt to sleep. Still, kültür escort in lulls between tracks, she heard them again. They went all night.
Her mother’s moans haunted Abby the most: long, continuous “ooo”s that sounded more like pained crying than pleasure. Until now, she’d been able to let the sounds be sounds, meaningless and disembodied, but now she couldn’t stop picturing the two of them: Dan feeding her sausages at the breakfast table, Dan squeezing her giant butt, Dan sticking his sausage…
In a moment, Abby came to her senses. She remembered where she was, what time it was and where she needed to be. She looked down and, to her surprise, saw that her hand was on her own crotch. She lifted it to see it was wet.
Abby cleaned herself up and washed her hands, then hurried back downstairs to leave for school.
* * * * *
Abby sat at her desk, eyes wide and staring at the whiteboard. Mr. Hamilton passed out the tests to each student, walking up and down the aisles. Abby’s palms were sweaty, her heart racing. When the test hit her desk, she grabbed her pencil so tightly it nearly snapped.
“Hey Abby,” said Paul in the neighboring desk. “What, do you need a Xanax or something?”
“No talking,” said Mr. Hamilton.
Abby’s face flushed. She tried her best to focus and decode the math problems in front of her, but it was like staring at a page of Arabic. She couldn’t recognize anything.
Pap, pap, pap…
The wet slapping sounded in her head.
Oooooo…
Her mother’s moaning.
Oh no.
“Shut up! Shut up!” she whispered. She pressed her wet palm into her forehead.
“Miss Howard!” said Mr. Hamilton.
“Sorry.”
Abby began copying the problems into the blank spaces below them. Nothing. She let out a low whimper and fidgeted in her seat. Her eyes welled up with tears. The smell of meat still seemed to linger in her nostrils and her stomach turned.
She got up and approached Mr. Hamilton’s desk.
“Um,” she said.
“Yes?”
She looked down and accidentally caught a glimpse of her math teacher’s bulge in his khakis. A vision of Dan’s giant package flashed through her head.
“Yes, Miss Howard?”
“Sorry. Can I please use the bathroom?”
“Yes you may, but you’d have to hand in your test. Can it wait?”
Abby bit her lip and closed her eyes. The plate of breakfast sausages filled her mind’s eye. She clutched her stomach.
“It’s an emergency?”
Mr. Hamilton shrugged.
“Rules are rules. Hope you’re happy with your work.”
Abby raced to the door, all eyes in the classroom staring at the shy star pupil. She fumbled with the doorknob and rushed out, sprinting for the bathroom. A couple of the boys chuckled.
She locked herself in the stall and sat down, pulling her skirt up and her panties to the floor. She sobbed. Tears streaked her tomato-red face and dripped onto the linoleum.
“What’s happening?” she said through heaving sobs.
More visions filled her mind:
Her mother on her knees at the breakfast table. Dan stuffing her mouth with sausage. Her mother moaning and sucking on the plump tube of meat as it stretched out her mouth. Dan smearing the slimy, sweaty sausage all over her smiling face.
He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at her with that same proud grin.
She pulls down his briefs.
It swings out and seems to double in size. Monstrous. A dragon dick.
“Oh my!” says her mother. “It’s like you’re bigger all the time!”
Dan grins.
“And harder…” She handles his cock carefully, like it’s worth millions.
He nods.
“May I…?”
“Yes, you may.”
Her mother leans forward and stretches her jaw to take him in her mouth–an impossible task–and Dan throws his head back in laughter.
Abby opened her eyes. Her left hand was sticky with spit, running down from her middle and index fingers. Her right was completely soaked when she lifted it from between her legs. She cleaned herself up with toilet paper and checked her reflection in the mirror.
The tears had dried on her cheeks, but she was still flushed and now had a layer of sweat sticking her blonde bangs to her forehead. Saliva had made its way down to her t-shirt. She tried mopping it all up with a paper towel but still looked like a mess.
How could she go back to class? Would Mr. Hamilton let her retake the test? Could she keep these awful thoughts out of her head enough to focus the rest of the day?
Most importantly – what was happening to her?
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