Chapter 10: Dear Son

Iris woke up with her head aching, but the pain was considerably better than most days. The water Arthur had forced her to drink had saved her from a terrible hangover.

Speaking of the boy, she looked around and saw no sign of him. She checked the room where he’d been staying; he wasn’t there either.

But she did find sliced fruit and soup in the fridge for when she woke up. Checking her phone, she saw a message explaining that he had gone to Amanda’s house.

"He really does know how to take care of people," she chuckled, also noticing he had covered her with a blanket. She smiled.

She prepared something to eat, along with what Arthur had left for her. After she finished, she headed for the shower.

Iris stripped and stepped under the hot spray. The water hit her skin and immediately ran over the heavy weight of her tits.

Remembering how Rachel had treated her like a rival, Iris smiled and played with her own tits, not sexually, just curiously.

Her boobs, just like everything else about her, were big. Really fucking big. So they naturally attracted a lot of attention. Still, she sometimes wondered how much men actually liked massive breasts like hers, or whether they preferred smaller, cuter girls.

One thing she knew for certain: every man she had ever met had wished she were at least six or seven inches shorter. At her height, she towered over most people, men or women.

Her wearing high heels didn’t help, but she liked the rush of power she got when she could look down at people from above.

"But even with my high heels, I think he was a bit taller than me," Iris mused, remembering Arthur. "I wonder what he thinks about these milkers here?"

As she played with them, they deformed in her hands. She had a bit of fun, lifting and letting the heavy mounds drop with a wet slap against her ribs.

"They really are heavy," she murmured. Of course, she already knew that, but a curiosity flared in her mind as she started wanting an actual number.

Maybe she could try weighing them. She just didn’t know how.

Smiling, she applied soap across the full undersides, then up over the deep cleavage. Her hands sank into the soft flesh as she pushed them high and let them fall again. It was quite fun, she had to admit.

Still, Iris treated the idea that a younger boy like Arthur could even look at her like that as absurd. All her friends her age were always talking about how boys even five years younger didn’t want anything with them. Imagine someone twenty years younger than her.

Anyway, she finished washing the suds off her bust and then shifted position. Her boobs were big enough that it was hard to wash the soap off her stomach, depending on the angle.

Not that this was any big inconvenience.

Iris shut off the water, still dripping from the tips of her nipples, and reached for a towel.

She quickly dressed in some casual clothes and tried to send Arthur a message, inviting him to play Mario Kart. Apparently, though, the boy already had plans.

So she let herself sink into the sofa and called his mother, Anne. She needed to talk to her, and she was sure the woman would want to hear about her son soon.

Anne picked up on the third ring. "Hi, do you need something, Iris?"

"Just calling to check in," the teacher answered. "Are you busy?"

"No," Iris said. She could hear Anne set her phone on the counter, along with the distinct sound of her cutting something. "I’m cooking, but I can speak and work at the same time. So what news do you have for me? Is Arthur doing well?"

Iris’s lips curled involuntarily. Anne really was an overprotective mother.

"I actually took him out for a round of drinks yesterday," she said, telling the woman about the drinks and about how she had found out Clarice had been putting Arthur down.

"That cunt," Anne hissed, and Iris could hear her knife come down aggressively. Even though they were miles away, the sound alone gave her chills. "She always acted like such an angel when I was around."

"She was probably afraid of you," Iris reasoned. "You are quite scary after all, mistress."

"Don’t call me that," Anne snapped, and Iris shut up immediately. "And tell me everything about Clarice, I need more information before I make my decision."

"Girl, please, don’t even think about cutting off her head and putting it on a stake or something," Iris said jokingly. "I wouldn’t want to see you going to jail."

"Why would I put her head on a stake? Dismembering her and dissolving the pieces in acid is much more efficient."

Iris’s whole body trembled. Anne was probably joking, but the edge of seriousness in her voice was scary.

"Anyway, you shouldn’t worry about Clarice. Arthur is going to be over her soon," Iris said quickly. "Now, listen to me, because you will love this story, girl." Then she told her about threatening Arthur to make him go talk to Rachel.

"I can’t believe you did that," Anne said on the other side of the phone, clearly holding back her laughter. "You are crazy."

"You know very well that I am," Iris smiled proudly, puffing out her chest.

"But," Anne’s voice turned scary out of nowhere, "stay away from Arthur. I want him to meet someone he can marry."

"I wouldn’t go for a boy so much younger than me," Iris tried to laugh it off. "And it’s not like a young stud like him would even pay me any attention. Anyway, I have an arranged date tomorrow, so hopefully I won’t be single anymore by Monday."

Anne let out a long sigh. "You need to stop going to these events; they never work. Besides, even if you do miraculously meet the right guy, you really shouldn’t start dating by Monday."

"Now you’re sounding like my mom," Iris joked.

"Watch your tongue; I’m just a year older than you," Anne snapped.

They still talked about dating for a bit, both women agreeing that finding the right man at their age was not easy, even though Iris believed the only reason Anne hadn’t remarried was that she had never gotten over her husband’s death.

She had visited Anne’s restaurant only once since he died, but she saw the way every single male customer looked at Anne. She could marry anyone in that village, even the ones who were already taken.

"One last thing about Arthur," Iris commented, having remembered something they had talked about at some point. "He’s looking for a job. I was thinking about speaking with Vanessa, I’m sure she can find something for him to do, but... well, you know how Vanessa is."

"No worries, I will call her," Anne said. "She won’t do anything."

"If you say so. Bye then, I need to start cleaning my house. I’ll call you if I have any news."

"Bye," Anne said.

Iris hung up the phone, leaving it on the sofa as she went to look for her cleaning utensils. But a thought crept into her head as she remembered their conversation.

Anne sounded confident Vanessa would listen to her, but that blonde woman had always been the bratty type. She liked to test limits and enjoyed risk.

"Well, it’s not like anyone will get hurt..." she muttered, turning her attention to her house.

The place wasn’t a mess, thanks in part to Arthur, who had organized things, but it still needed some cleaning.