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A question often asked by those who deal with psychological problems is: What is normal? The answer to that seemingly simple question will probably never be answered.
The people within a particular society usually are well aware of what is considered acceptable behavior from them. And therein lies the problem of the main character of this story.
Becky is a woman possessed of deep and abiding passions, passions which control her life and lead her to overstep the bounds of acceptable societal behavior time and time again. In her search for physical satisfaction, the fiery blonde is helplessly driven to take her pleasure where she can, risking everything for the promise of gratification.
NEIGHBORHOOD BABYSITTER — the story of one woman tormented by her needs and the fear that she is abnormal. Her tale is a lesson to our society, and food for serious thought.
Becky was washing her father’s car in the driveway, sloshing the creamy suds over the hood and windshield. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mr. Diggens, the neighbor, watching her closely. He pretended he wasn’t looking, of course, and strode back and forth with his roaring lawn mower as if he had not a minute to spare. But he was watching her every move. She could tell. She decided to give him a little show. Leaning low over the windshield, she poured a pail full of white suds over the glass. Then she bent down and began rubbing a thick sponge back and forth, letting her huge tits toll and squish against the pane. Her plunging halter-top did its best to contain her wobbling jugs, but they puffed out over the top, heaved and tugged against each other obscenely. Mr. Diggens would have a clear view down her cleavage to her rib cage.
She moved away from him, to the driver’s side of the car, splashing more soapy water against the side window and repeating her performance. But this time she reached over to swirl her sponge back and forth on the car roof, crushing her mammoth tits into the window and forcing them to mash into flattened balls. She could feel her erect nipples scratching the wet glass, and she knew damn well Mr. Diggens could see them clearly. She let the sudsy water slosh lewdly into her cleavage, wetting her tits and belly and sticking her halter top to her golden skin.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.