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.request would sit in the shadows....and watch.I emptied the contents of my sizable travel bag on the bed, still unsure of what to wear.....I started by putting my red and black basque on, adjusting the shoulder straps till I felt it fitted right, then I fastened my stockings to the suspenders of my basque and slipped my heels on...hairpiece next...just a bit of adjustment needed and .......TAP TAP....Helen was at the door ...'Are you ok' she asked ...'Nearly ready' I replied...'Just my panties to slip on'......Helen walked in....'Dont worry about them ' she said ......'You wont be needing those '.......'Hold on' she said ......'Sit down'.......and she proceeded to straighten me up here and there ...a tuft of my hairpiece adjusted here and a slight tug of my basque and a suspender adjustment there ...and I was ready.She walked out of the room and I followed as she directed me to Rick , waiting on the bed in the next bedroom for me , as I passed Helen by the door way , she playfully. Besides, Theresa wasn’t even that good looking. She was on the big side, not fat, but definitely not shopping in the petite section at Macy’s either. In fact, her only saving grace was the massive 40 double Ds on her chest. These tits were phenomenal, I’m talking absolutely magnificent, and were likely the source of her control over Tommy. Poor guy. But it was that same pair of perfect juggs that caught my eye as she rode her bike past our basketball game, and had me jogging over to say hi. Hell, it was time for a break anyway. I DID mention that I’d downed a few, right? She had a yellow, form-fitting Lycra jogging suit on, and the valley below her neckline was tremendous. Yowza! Luckily I had sunglasses on, because I couldn’t help but stare hungrily. Of course Theresa started right in with the usual Tommy-bashing, but I just ignored her and concentrated on the shiny beads of sweat that were resting on the tops of her breasts. They were hypnotic. Then, when she stopped to catch her.
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’ Pop was right. I knew he was, but it was hard. ‘I feel fine, great even,’ I said, knowing he didn’t quite believe me. Neither had the doctors who came in earlier. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn’t want to rehash this argument again, but one point stuck in my craw. ‘How can the doctors have no idea what happened?’ I asked yet again. According to my parents one minute I was in class listening to Mr. Hardgrove and the next I was having convulsions on the floor until I finally fell into a coma. That was pretty much all anyone knew. ‘John, I know this is difficult to accept, but getting angry isn’t going to help,’ my father said. Again, I knew he was right, but knowing and accepting were two different things. I felt lost and confused. I loved my parents, but they weren’t helping. I knew who might. ‘Where’s Tiff?’ I asked, and saw my parents exchange an odd look. ‘She’s okay, isn’t she?’ ‘She’s fine,’ my mother said, obviously annoyed for some reason. I knew it wasn’t.

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