THE BOOBY BUNCH
by Joe Average
What if the opening theme song had gone, "Here's a story, of a busty lady..."?
Alice, the housekeeper, stared out the front door of the Brady home, where she worked. She shook her head sadly as she headed back into the house. Alice called out, "Mrs Brady!"
The lady of the house walked into the living room, wearing a sheer nightie and carrying a cup of coffee. "Yes, Alice?" she smiled. "What is it?"
"Mrs Brady, I don't make a lot of demands. I think I'm a model employee," said Alice, starting to get a little heated up. "But this is the limit! I'm asking you — I'm pleading with you — as a woman. Don't answer the door wearing that see-through nightgown anymore!"
"Oh? What's wrong with it?" asked Mrs Brady, innocently. She twirled around, blissfully ignoring the way her motion sent her oversized breasts sailing through the air.
"That's just what I'm talking about!" scolded Alice. "Look at that! Excuse me, look at them."
"Oh," said Mrs Brady with a smile that couldn't mask her great pride in her attractiveness. "You're talking about my big titties."
"Yes, I am," said Alice, idly dusting the living room furniture. "My boyfriend, Sam the butcher, stopped by to give me a good morning kiss. When you opened the door like that, letting him have a close look at all that merchandise..."
Carol Brady subconciously sucked in her already tiny waist and puffed out her highly three-dimensional bosom.
"...well, he just forgot what he came here for!" fumed Alice, dusting with more and more furor as she spoke. "He probably went into the bushes to jerk off. Didn't even get a chance to offer to help."
"I'm so sorry, Alice," apologized Carol Brady. "I forget sometimes! I see these big monsters every day, so I guess I sometimes forget how men react."
"How can you forget how men react?" said a disbelieving Alice. "You've got three teenage or nearly-teenage step-sons who are in a constant state of arousal around you. You and those top-heavy blonde daughters of yours. Have you seen Cindy lately?"
"Cindy, my youngest?" said Carol. "She's developing nicely, isn't she? At twelve. Just like her mother."
"Yes, and it won't be long before she catches up with her busty sisters, Marcia and Jan," said Alice. "And all three of them are trying to pass up their mother in the Bustline Derby! You can just imagine the state those three red-blooded American boys are in! What are Mr Brady's sons supposed to do?"
"Oh, I wouldn't pay it any mind, Alice," said Mrs Brady, stirring her coffee and suggestively sucking the spoon. "They'll find some way to deal with it."
"You know, the first Mrs Brady — God rest her soul — had absolutely nothing up top, Mrs Brady," confided Alice. "It's no wonder Mr Brady went for a big girl like you."
"Why, thank you, Alice," said Carol, absent-mindedly reaching a finger into the v-neck of her nightie, and tracing the contour of her outsize bosom.
"Mrs Brady — I've often wondered..." said Alice. "What did your late husband die of?"
Carol looked significantly downward, into the deep, deep valley of her cleavage. "Suffocation," she said soberly.
Alice had to suppress a giggle. "I ... I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs Brady."
"It was the way he would have liked to go," nodded Carol, braving a smile.
"Well..." stammered Alice, "I see. Well anyway ... next time, don't let my Sam see you dressed like that!" she chirped, now in a better mood. "He'll forget all about his Alice! You know what they say about homely girls like me?"
"That they have inner beauty?"
"Shit, no," scoffed Alice. "They say the homely ones give the best hand jobs!" She picked up Mrs Brady's coffee cup and whistled her way happily into the kitchen.
Carol's three daughters Marcia, Jan, and Cindy burst through the front door. Teenage Marcia was a tit-boy's dream, just like Mom, and she loved showing off her figure in the tight, midriff-baring tube tops that were in fashion. Jan, a few years behind her sister, was neck and neck with her in bust size, and preferred the peek-a-boo effect. She wore boys' shirts, tucked in at the waist to emphasize her assets, and unbuttoned several buttons to display an enticing cleavage. They were followed by the youngest, Cindy, whose childish pink T-shirt was starting to show tell-tale signs of her burgeoning resemblance to her mother and sisters!
"What's new, girls?" asked Mrs Brady, still idly fingering her bosom.
"Mom!" said Jan with excitement. "Guess what?"
"We just came from the doctor's," explained Marcia.
"Cindy's getting them. Look!" shouted Jan, pointing to her sister.
Cindy grinned from ear to ear and lifted her T-shirt. "The doctor wath looking at my bare chetht," she lisped. "And then he thaid, 'Big breaths...'"
"He meant take deep breaths, Cindy," said Jan.
"I know!" shot back Cindy, still showing off her bare buds. "And I thaid, 'Yeth! And I'm only twelve!'"
Carol laughed and reached over to press and prod Cindy's swelling sprouts. "Cindy, that's not bad, not bad at all," agreed Carol. "Keep working at it, and soon you'll catch up to the rest of the family!"
"I want them right now!" whined the twelve-year-old. "I want my brother Bobby to get a thtiffie looking at me!"
"Mom? Should we tell her?" asked Jan.
"Tell her what?" Carol wanted to know.
"How to help them get bigger faster," said Marcia.
"How?" Cindy asked, thrilled that there might be a way.
Mrs Brady considered her daughters' request. "All right," she said finally, and turned her head, as though she didn't want to hear.
Jan ignored her reluctance. "Cindy, listen. The more you can get Bobby turned on, the faster your boobies will grow."
"Really?" Cindy asked, wide-eyed.
"Yes," agreed Marcia. "I flashed Greg so often he nearly went blind."
"And look at her now," said Jan. Marcia smiled and turned in profile with great pride. "Peter was so stiff when my titties first showed up he started living up to his name!"
"Yes, he was just one long Peter!" laughed Marcia. Jan took a deep breath and thrust her bosom in Cindy's face to illustrate her point.
"But..." asked Cindy, "did you thleep with them?"
"No, they didn't!" snapped Carol, joining the conversation. "A little innocent flirtation is okay. After all, you're not blood relatives. But sex is out!"
"Thex ith out?" pouted Cindy.
"Yeth," said Carol. "I mean yes. But do what your sisters say. The stiffer the brother, the bigger the boobies."
"And the bigger the better..." began Jan.
"...the tighter the sweater!" finished Marcia.
The three began the well-known chant as they ran upstairs to their rooms. "We must. We must. We must develop the bust. The bigger the better, the tighter the sweater, the boys depend on us!"
Upstairs, Mike Brady peeked out of his home studio. He decided to take a break from his architecture work when he heard his step-daughters' voices in the living room.
"My God," he thought as they passed by. "Look at Cindy! She is going to have some whoppers on her!"
"Alice?" called Mike. "Would you come up here a moment?"
"Right away, Mr Brady, said Alice from the kitchen. She gave her hands a quick wash and went upstairs.
The three Brady boys — Greg, Peter, and Bobby — emerged from the bedroom they shared just in time to meet their swell step-sisters in the hallway. The girls smiled wickedly.
"Hey, Greg," said Marcia, tugging her tube-top downward so more overflowing tit flesh was visible on top.
"H-h-hi, Marcia," said Greg, visibly trembling. "Gosh, you look terrific."
"Thanks, big brother," smiled Marcia. "Say ... are you really a big brother?" she asked, looking significantly at his swelling crotch. She let him think about her question as she pushed her breasts past him and continued down the hall.
"Hello, Peter," said Jan, unbuttoning a few more buttons on her shirt and stepping forward — just daring him to look down. "How's Peter?" she asked, also starting at him between his legs, making her meaning crystal clear. Peter was speechless. Jan walked away, her mission accomplished.
"Wow, Cindy," said Bobby, the youngest. "Look at you!"
Cindy giggled girlishly.
"Wow. What a family. We got Mom's Mams, Marcia's Melons, Jan's Jugs ... and now Cindy's Sprouts!" he laughed. "Cool."
"Want 'em to be more than thprouts?" Cindy lisped.
"You know I do!" chirped Bobby.
"Jutht ... keep ... looking, thweety," said Cindy before she walked away, with a suprising sexy slink for her age.
The boys looked at each other, and scampered back into their room, slamming the door behind them.
"Shit! Did you see Cindy?" asked Greg.
"Golly," said Peter, breathlessly. "I'm sorta used to Marcia and Jan's big knockers, but on our kid sister...!"
"And how 'bout the way she was lookin' at me..." grinned Bobby.
"Don't do it, pal," advised Greg. "I know they're not really, really our sisters, but we're in the same family..."
"He's right, Bobby," said Peter. "Mom gave us the speech when Marcia and Jan developed. She said the girls might flirt with us ... but emotional involvement and screwing would be wrong."
"But what am I supposed to do?" asked Bobby. "My pants feel ... tight."
Just then there was a knock on the door. "Boys?" called Carol Brady.
"Come on in, Mom," said Greg.
Mrs Brady walked in, her magnificent breasts still on full display in her sheer nightgown. "What's new, guys?"
Bobby spoke without thinking. "Cindy's titties, that's what's new!"
"Oh, Bobby..." Mrs Brady looked concerned. "Your brothers told you, no hanky-panky with your sisters, didn't they?"
"We told him, Mom," offered Peter. "But Bobby wanted to know ... what are we supposed to do?"
"Well," said Mrs Brady. "I'll bet I can help you there." She smiled and began taking off her nightgown.
"Mom!" said Greg. "Should you be doing that?"
"Why not?" she asked, shaking her shoulders to savor the fresh air on her nipples.
"Well ... you said sex with family members is out!" said Peter.
"Oh, pish-posh," said Carol, lifting her breasts up to her chin and letting them fall with a plop. "We're not blood relatives, after all. And this isn't emotional involvement."
"Well, what is it?" asked Bobby, fingering his crotch.
"It's ... being a cum-dump," announced Mrs Brady. "Perfectly okay. I've done it before, and I'm good at it."
"Where?" asked Greg, more blatantly starting to polish his candlestick through his jeans.
"At fraternity parties," smiled perky-yet-pendulous Carol Brady. "This isn't sex." She raised her breasts high with her hands. "It's target practice. Off with your pants."
The boys did what they were told.
"Ready for target practice?" asked their step-mother. "Unholster your weapons ... and ... fire!"
Down the hall, Alice finally emerged from Mr Brady's study. She washed her hands with a damp washcloth. "Thanks, Alice!" said Mike's grateful voice from behind the door. "You're welcome!" called Alice, still tidying up her fingers. "You know what they say about the homely ones...!"
Night had fallen. The Brady household was at rest. Mike and Carol sat in bed — Mike with the evening paper, and Carol with a romance novel. Mike wore striped flannel pajamas, tops only. Carol wore a sheer baby-doll number that could be pushed up to her neck at a moment's notice to offer full access to her beautiful and monumental knockers.
"Honey?" asked Mike. "Why'd you take a shower in the middle of the afternoon today?"
"Oh," said Carol, not turning from her book. "I had the boys come all over my tits. I had to wash up."
"You did?" Mike seemed surprised.
"Well, they were in such a state over Cindy," she said, turning a page. "I'll need to get her some bigger bras. I told her congratulations. She'll pass me up before you know it. Did you see how big she got — just today?"
"I think I did notice, yes," said Mike, reaching below his waist.
"I showered off all that cum," said Carol. "Three growing boys, can you imagine? There was quite a bit. All three of them offered to come into the shower and help me wash these babies down!"
"Yeah?" said Mike, hoping his stroking wasn't too noticable.
"I said no. Coming on me is OK," said Carol. "It's practically clinical. I was ministering to their needs."
"I see," said Mike. "I'll be right back." He got out of bed and left the room. Carol's eyes never left her novel.
The door to the girls' bedroom opened.
"Hi, Daddy!" called Marcia from the darkness.
"Ready, girls?" said Mike.
"You bet!" said Jan, switching on the light.
The girls doffed their pajama tops and lay down on the floor, shoulder to shoulder.
"Wait a minute," said Mike, looking them over and fingering his cock. "Cindy, move from the left side to the right side."
Marcia was crestfallen. "But Daddy...!"
"Sweetheart, you know I like to fuck the biggest pair of tits first, and make my way to the smallest pair," explained Mike.
"Yes," said Jan.
"Well, your sister has passed you both up! Look at Cindy's massive tits!"
"Yeth!" chirped Cindy, as she painstakingly hauled those massive tits to the front of the line. "In jutht one day! It'th cauth Bobby, Peter, and Greg were all jerking their pretty cockth off over me!"
"I'm sure they were," said Mike, dropping his rock-hard log into Cindy's now cavernous cleavage. "Push 'em together, baby! Here I go!" Marcia and Jan patiently waited their turns.
In about ten minutes, Mike crawled back into bed with his wife. "Hi, honey," said Carol, not asking where he went.
"Hi, sweety," said Mike, sighing heavily. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, twirling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Oh, about the boys," sighed Carol, finally lowering her book and tucking it under her bust temporarily. "They're so horny over their sisters. Do you think they'll know to do something about it?"
"I'm sure they will," chuckled Mike. "I wouldn't worry."
The door to the boys' room opened in the darkness. A voice called out, "You boys ready?"
"Hey, Alice!" shouted Greg, switching the lights on. Peter, Greg, and Bobby pointed their hard dicks toward the middle of the room where the friendly housekeeper was flexing her fingers, ready to go to work.
"Who's first?" Alice wanted to know.
"Me!" called Bobby. "I need it the most tonight."
"Good," said Alice, grasping Bobby's member. "It's a good thing for you boys I'm here. You know what they say?"
"Yeah!" said Greg.
"The homely ones..." began Peter.
"Give the best hand jobs!" they chanted all at once, cheering Alice.
THE END
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