Playhouse/House

You look for a time before finding Christy hiding in the oversized playhouse, large enough for you to stand up in, huddled under the big plastic table.

"Hey!" she whines, crawling out from under the table and standing up. "No fair. You have a torch."

"If I didn't" you answer "I wouldn't have been able to see anything, let alone find you. It's so dark."

"I guess that's true" she admits. "Serves us right for playing here at night."

"So is it my turn to hide?" you ask.

"No" she says "I don't have a torch..."

"You could use mine" you offer.

"... then you couldn't see and you might hurt yourself." she says "Anyway I want to play something else."

"Like what?" you ask.

"Well we are in the playhouse" she says "Maybe we could play house. You can be the daddy and I'll be the mummy."

"Umm ... sure." you say.

"Wait." she says "That won't work. We don't have any dolls to be our babies. You be the husband and I'll be the wife."

"O.k." you say.

"Hello dear" she says, immediately getting into character. "How was work?"

"Not great" you say. "Let's not talk about it."

"Oh you poor dear" she says "Here, sit down and I'll give you a massage"

You sit down on one of the oversized plastic play chairs and she walks behind you, puts her soft hands on the back of your neck and begins to gently rub. It feels nice. She quickly moves down to your shoulders and does the same, although not firmly enough to actually do anything useful, obviously only playing.

"O.k." she says "Let's have dinner. I made your favourite..." Christy suddenly breaks character to ask "What's you favourite dinner?"

"Spaghetti"

"I made your favourite ... Spaghetti Bol-Bog... with meat sauce." she giggles at her inability to pronounce 'bolognese'.

As she walks back in front of you you see she is no longer wearing the clothes she was wearing when she walked behind you but is now in a pink dress right out of a 1950s sitcom and is wearing a white apron. You look down and realise that you, too, have changed outfit. You are still wearing a white shirt but you shorts have been replaced with brown trousers that you recognise as part of a business suit and grey socks. You suddenly remember removing your hat, jacket and sensible tie as you came in the door.

When you look up the room has changed. No longer the inside of an oversized playhouse you now sit in an actual house with actual furniture and an actual kitchen instead of the (oversized) toy kitchen you as as you came in. The dinner is already served and Cristy removes her apron, picks up two plates which, at first, seem to be plastic and covered with sticks and bark. However by the time she places them on the small dining table in front of you (where the cutlery is already set) they are china and piled high with spaghetti bolognese. She returns to the counter and picks up two plastic cups of grape juice that turn into glasses of red wine before she puts them down. Once she has finished serving she sits across from you.

You pick up your knife and fork and both begin to eat and drink. As Christy drinks her cheeks take on a slight blush as if the wine is quickly going to her head. The sauce is quite sloppy and it is isn't long before Christy gasps "Oh dear. You seem to have got some sauce on your shirt. Quick, take it off so I can put in in some water to soak."

You look at her and, with a thought, create a small spot of errant sauce on her dress. "You've got some on your dress too." you say.

"Oh no!" she says as she sees it. She quickly stands up and begins to remove her dress and you quickly remove your shirt and hand it to her. You give yourself a little bit more muscle definition than you actually have, but not too much. Once she is out of her dress you see that she is wearing white lace underwear, possibly inappropriate for the role she is playing (unless she planned on seducing you later, which is possible).

Christy runs off to another room where you hear water running but returns quickly and sits down again, still wearing only her white lace underwear. You openly stare at her large, tan, perfect breasts sitting in their white cups. She seems to appreciate your attention and makes sure to lean forward to give you a better view as she sits down again.

You both continue eating, but the food is messy and it doesn't take long until another drop of sauce spills on Christy's bra. She sees it immediately and stands up again.

"Oh bother" she says and once again hurries out of the room only to return without her bra, her breasts, with their lovely dark areolae, on full display. She walks across the room and heads for another door.

"Where are you going?" you ask.

"I'm just going to get a robe." she answers. "I can't have the neighbours seeing me in just my panties."

"You'll just get that dirty too" you point out "and if the neighbours are looking they have already seen your beautiful breasts when you came out of the laundry."

She stops and looks thoughtful. "I guess you're right." she says "I'm such a silly head. I should have got my robe first."

"You're not a silly head." you protest "You were just more concerned with your laundry than you modesty. Not that I'm complaining."

"Oh you." she says giving you a playful slap as she returns to the table and sits down again. "I guess if the neighbours have already got an eyeful they might as well keep looking."

You continue dinner and both continue dripping sauce on yourselves as you do. At one point Christy drips a large blob onto her left breast and she makes eye contact with you as she wipes it off with her finger and then seductively sucks her finger clean. You consider having some fall on her panties but decide the quick flash of pussy you might get wouldn't be as rewarding as the continual view of her breasts you already have. A view that is making you increasingly hard.