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A son discovers his parents' secret.

12:01. Right on time. I had an opening set that would run right up to the bottom of the hour when I would play a request. Until then, I sat at the production board and listened to the tunes as I waited to field phone calls.

That's when my dream unfolded. Brianna had walked out without her cellphone. She didn't realize it until she was halfway to her dorm room. She turned around and returned to the studio. It was 12:06 when the door opened and I saw her step inside.

"Back so soon?" I playfully chided her.

"Forgot my phone" she said. "Did you notice it?"

When I said "no", it was the total truth. Because it was only a fraction of a second later that I noticed it laying on the counter in front of me. And in that instant, without any forethought, I slid it off the counter and deposited it in my pants pocket. I had no plan. I was just buying a little time to enjoy Brianna's presence.

"Well I know I left it here. Can you help me find it?" As she stepped closer to me, I realized that it was still raining outside because her hoodie was pretty wet. And so was the part of her teeshirt that was left unprotected by her hoodie. The section that ran from her collar to just below the lower line of her tits. Wet. Clinging. Inviting to the eyes.

I wasn't sure if Brianna realized just how revealing her tee was at the moment. She seemed to be preoccupied with finding her cellphone. It was possible that she was oblivious in her panic.

I felt a wave of guilt for hiding it in my pocket. But I also felt a surge just to the side of my pocket where my cock was throbbing thanks to the up close view I was enjoying of Brianna. I acted as if I were searching for her phone when I was really searching for the best angles to admire her body.


I suggested that maybe she left it in the bathroom. I had not been there on my shift yet. She turned around and went to check. In her absence, I pulled her phone from my pocket and quickly slid it under a stack of file folders on the desk next to me.

The studio phone rang. I answered it. "Request Hotline, what's on your mind this morning?" The caller stammered a bit and then rambled about some song she had heard at a concert on campus last week, wondering if I could identify and play it. As I tried to handle her request, Brianna returned from the restroom empty handed and desperate.


"HERE IT IS" she exclaimed in relief. "How did it get shoved all the way over here?" Her relief was tempered by her accusatory tone. She looked right at me and said, "Did you hide my phone?"

I don't know what exactly made my knees buckle at that moment. Perhaps it was my secret lust pent up for her or the ripples of arousal that consumed my body or the light-headed daze I felt as I gazed at that sway and jiggle of her tits now more pronounced after she had unzipped her hoodie while in the bathroom.

She sensed my hesitancy to offer a defense. She looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes, those amazing tits pressed against the wet fabric of her teeshirt. And I just folded. "I am sorry Brianna. Bad joke, eh?"

I expected her to glare at me and tromp out the door in a huff. Instead, she stood for a moment and just looked at me. The edges of her mouth softened with tiny curls revealing a sly smile. Her posture relaxed. She held her phone in her hand. She quietly repeated back to me, "Bad joke?"


The studio phone abruptly rang. My moment of awkwardness was interrupted, thankfully. "Request Hotline, what's up?" I stammered. As I jotted down the caller's request, Brianna playfully sauntered to the other side of the glass that partitioned the sound booth from the rest of the tiny, little studio. I nervously took notes as I watched her movement cautiously.

She maneuvered her body so that she could stand facing the glass, pressing her body against it.

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