His Friend Ryan

"Ah Shit!" Michael thinks to himself at the sight of his friend standing on the doorstep, "I knew I was forgetting something."

He'd and Ryan had made plans to hang out today, but in his excitement over trying his new abilities, it had completely slipped his mind.

"Ryan, I'm, uh, not here right now?" Michael stumbles over his words, almost forgetting what face he's wearing for a second. "Uh, I mean Michael's not here, um, dear..."

His mind races, trying to think of a plausible excuse for his absence. He couldn’t claim to be sick? Or helping his father with an errand? Something that won't invite follow-up questions...

It occurs to Michael that neither of them has said anything for an uncomfortably long time.

"Oh god, just say something." He orders himself silently, "Anything! Before he asks what's wrong and... hey, what's he looking at anyway?"

Ryan's normally laughing hazel eyes seem unnatural wide, fixed staring straight ahead directly at Michael's chest... Oooh!

The penny finally drops as Michael follows his friend's gaze down to his own impressive and almost completely bare bosom. His robe has fallen open down to his navel and one good jiggle would probably bounce his tits free from the last inch of satin preserving their modesty.

No wonder Ryan seemed so distracted, another minute and the poor boy will probably start to drool.

An unmotherly smirk plays across the milf's lips as a wicked idea occurs to Micheal. Adjusting his robe enough to snap Ryan's attention back to his face he leans casually against the door frame and...