Hannah’s Thought Bubbles

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Amy Anderssen

A tale set back in the very late 1990’s…


Roger Ward was a handyman by trade, and the 44 year old divorced father of one grown son managed to carve out a decent living in Boonville, New York working for a construction company and doing odd jobs on the side. Roger probably could have left the company and done fine by himself because he had a good reputation, mostly because in the words of one of the women he did work for, “at least you show up.” Attendance and punctuality were not traits of most of the guys who did his line of work in that area, since most of them hung out at Stewart’s drinking coffee, telling tales and only laboring when necessity called on it.

Occasionally these odd jobs had fringe benefits, as was the case when Roger took a project on for this divorcee, a rather attractive woman his age who pretty much seduced the handyman, although Roger would have been the first to admit he wasn’t a challenge, to which his ex-wife would agree.

Darla Gaudet was a real estate agent and was a very self-centered woman. Proof of that was the fact that Roger didn’t know her only child still lived with her, since Darla never said much about Hannah. Only after Roger had been put under the spell of Darla’s 38 inch bust did that come out, and Roger soon figured out why that was. Darla was ashamed of her daughter, and he assumed it was probably because Darla said she was handicapped as a result of a horrible car accident she had been in a few years ago that had even put Hannah in a body cast for a time.

Handicapped wasn’t the correct term because there was nothing wrong with Hannah outside of her being very shy and socially awkward. Roger figured that was the result of the noticeable limp Hannah had to deal with. Roger had also figured out that many of the kid’s problems came from her mother not exactly being the most supportive person in the world.

The more Roger learned about Darla the less he liked her, and much of that came from treating her daughter like she was an albatross because she wasn’t a cheerleader like her Mom had been and was no raving beauty. The girl couldn’t help the limp – having seen the pictures of the car Hannah was lucky to be alive – and Darla hadn’t volunteered the information that she had been driving. Making it worse was that her husband – Hannah’s Dad – had gotten a divorce and only dealt with Hannah on her birthday.

Those were the reasons that Roger had made every effort to befriend the teen, and while it took some time Hannah had come out of her shell with him. That was a good thing, the handyman had thought at first, but more and more Roger was getting the feeling that their relationship was getting into a dangerous territory because he was starting to like the girl a lot more than her mother. Even worse, Roger Ward wasn’t sure whose fault that was, but Roger himself can best tell the tale…


“Am I the boyfriend or just a handyman trading his time for an occasional roll in the hay?” I said to myself after I finished putting the gutter back up on the porch, and I had to remember that there was no anchor on my ass and if I didn’t like it I could move along to the next one.

Problem was I was tired of ‘next ones’ and was hoping to settle down before I started to see the real Darla, I reasoned when I saw the window curtain move as I put the ladder away. It might have been the cat but I had a sneaky suspicion that it was a young lady who was supposed to be in school, so I used my key on the back door and walked in, presumably to use the bathroom but when I passed Hannah’s bedroom on the way and saw the light on with the door ajar I knew my suspicions were right.

What I needed to do was to take care of business in the bathroom and walk right out the door because if I didn’t there were lot of things that could happen and most of them were bad. Not because I didn’t think that Hannah Renee Gaudet wasn’t adorable because she was, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t old enough because she was, just barely. I was a little more than twice her age and was dating her mother, for crying out loud.

What was worse was that Hannah had begun to flirt with me lately. Not when her Mom was around but she was flirting and it was so clear that she didn’t know how to do it either. She was probably behaving like some overacting star in a sitcom she had seen, doing everything but batting her eyelashes like a cartoon character. I admit I had sort of flirted with her too at first, but I was only kidding when I did it, to cheer her up.

“Mr. Ward?” came the chirp from the bedroom door I had managed to pass, so I stopped and went back to the doorway where Hannah was sitting at the computer, probably waiting for the glacial dial-up service we are stuck with up here to kick in. “You weren’t even going to stop by and say hi to me?”

“I thought you must be in school Hannah. It is Tuesday,” I reminded her. “The school year’s almost over and it would be a shame to screw up now and have to go to summer school.”

“No chance. I almost became Salutatorian. Going to fall short by less illegal bahis than a point they told me.”

“That’s excellent,” I exclaimed and was tempted to go in and give her a hug but she was wearing a lime green nightie.

“Not that great an honor,” Hannah replied. “You know how many kids are in my graduating class?”

“It’s still great.”

“This computer takes forever,” she moaned.

“When I was your age there weren’t computers in people’s houses,” I told her, wincing when I realized I was sounding more like my old man everyday. “A computer from back then that does what this does wouldn’t even fit in this room.”

“I am getting an award for being the oldest graduate.”

“You are not. Not your fault you lost a year.”

“Why don’t you come in and keep me company for a few minutes Mr. Ward?”

“Two conditions. You know how I feel about the Mr. Ward bit. Mr. Ward is my father. Roger is the name. Also, does your mother know you aren’t at school?”

“She won’t know if you don’t tell her,” Hannah claimed. “I – uh – missed the bus.”

“Oh,” was my response, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether she had found out I was coming by and decided to stay home. “You might put some more clothes on too.”

“If you fix the air conditioning I would,” Hannah smartly said, knowing full well there was no AC to fix.

“So now you can come keep me company,” I was told as Hannah directed me to the chair she pulled way too close to her. “Sit please.”

“So what are you working on?”

“Trying to get my term paper done,” Hannah said and I tried not to look at anything but her eyes because while her nightie wasn’t anything exotic it was clear she had no bra on underneath.

Some might say there was no need for a bra but there clearly was something there so my eyes focused on her plain face that could use some more chin, the pug nose and the blonde hair that could use a cut instead of those little cones that stuck out into the satiny fabric.

“Do you know anything about Stalin?”

“How old do you think I am?” was my answer, and that made Hannah laugh, an almost cartoon character giggle that was way funnier than what I had said.

“I think that I…” Hannah said before getting up to get something apparently in her book bag, but when I tried to stop her to tell her I would get it, the fiery Hannah appeared and told me in no uncertain terms. “I’m not a cripple!”

“Sorry,” I mumbled and slid back to let the little lady by, and while she was unsteady when she first stood up and dragged her right leg a bit when she moved, she was correct.

So I sat there and watched her go over towards the backpack, briefly noting the vague image of the scar on her hip through her nightie, but as I admired her rather shapely, petite legs I started to wonder if she was just parading like this for my benefit. Then she bent down and pulled some papers out, talking what seemed like way too long, and my eyes went to the nightie which rode up to expose the fact that not only was Hannah bra-less, she also wasn’t wearing panties, exposing the bottom parts of her pale little buns.

“Here it is,” Hannah chirped as she turned to come back to the computer, and although I thought I had averted my eyes before she caught me, something in her little smile suggested I was busted.

“What’s this?” I asked in an effort to return to normal, but when I started to read what the flyer said I caught myself, but too late.

“It’s our version of a senior prom,” Hannah explained as she relieved me of the flyer. “We don’t have enough people for a real prom so they rent out the VFW hall and hire some DJ. Punch, a cold cut platter and some chaperone taking pictures.”

“Uh – that doesn’t so bad,” I lied.

“Want to take me?”

“Oh. Gee, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I noted.

“Neither do the 30 or so other guys in the class so far,” Hannah smirked. “Nobody wants to boogie with the gimp.”


“Truth hurts less when you admit it,” she snapped. “It’s still a couple weeks away, Maybe I’ll post a notice promising guys I’ll give them what they want if they take me.”

“You’re being silly.”

“I know. I don’t want to go anyway,” Hannah assured me and then added, “That’s the old me avoiding the truth.”

“I never went to my prom and I’ve managed to survive,” I suggested.

“Hard to believe no guy would take me though because some of the girls are real dogs,” Hannah said as she leaned back in her chair, and as she did she stretched and ran her hands through her blonde locks before linking her fingers behind her head in a sort of pose. “I’m kinda hot in a way, don’t you think Roger? What? What’s so funny?”

When I saw what Hannah was up to I made my mind up not to look over at her flirting, but I couldn’t help myself and when I saw the teen had done something presumably for my benefit I had to laugh at the little clusters of hairs Hannah had let grow under her arms since we saw this singer on a TV show we had watched a few weeks ago.

“Is this the result of what illegal bahis siteleri I said about that singer on that award show?”

“Paula Cole? No, not really. I just thought it would make me look older. What do you think?”

“I think that this proves you’re a real blonde for one thing. I’m just not sure whether you are trying to get a rise out of me or your mother,” I wondered aloud, because after Darla expressed disgust at seeing a woman with hair under her arms on TV, I mentioned that I thought it was interesting and suggested to my girlfriend that she let her armpit hair grow, and at the very thought Darla went a little nuts.

“Mom really freaked out didn’t she?” Hannah giggled as she fluffed up the spray of what couldn’t be more than a dozen blonde hairs, and I agreed she had. “If I decide to let her get a look at me I’ll make sure you’re around to catch her reaction.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you,” I offered.

“You mean maybe she’ll ignore me? I get a lot of that too, but then I get to read her thought balloons.”

“Thought balloons?” I asked in confusion.

“You know in comics when this cloud above somebody’s head tells you what they’re saying?” I was asked, and after I nodded Hannah continued. “Then there’s the other kind that letting you know what the character’s thinking. That’s the thought balloon and I’ve always been able to figure out what’s going through her mind.”


“Well, it’s not like Mom is all that deep,” Hannah opined, making me laugh despite myself.

“Have you always had this ability?”

“Since the accident, or maybe it’s because I was kinda stuck in bed or the wheelchair that I had time on my hands,” Hannah explained. “Sometimes when she would get frustrated with having to do things for me or would be stuck here at home with me when the home health aides didn’t show I could see her thinking, “Why didn’t that accident kill both of us?” or even wishing I would have died.”

“I think you might have been exaggerating there,” I told the teen.

“I know she blames me for Dad booking because before the crash we had this perfect family, or at least that was the way she was thinking. Dad couldn’t deal with his little girl damaged forever, and then Mom sulked for a week or two before she went on her hunt for Oneida County’s most eligible bachelors,” Hannah concluded. “I think you’re number 6.”

“Who knows? Maybe the hunt will end with me?” I kidded but Hannah shook her head.

“No, she’s cooling off on you. They usually last about 4 or 5 months.”


“Same with you though Roger. I can tell lately the bloom is off the rose for you too Roger,” Hannah said with an accuracy that made me wonder whether she could actually read minds. “Too bad because you’re my favorite, and I’m not saying that because you’re here either. You’ve always treated me nice and not like I’m the village idiot. Sort of like you think I’m a woman.”

“Well…” I mumbled, wondering if she was going to stay in that provocative pose forever.

“She’ll use you for a while longer, probably getting you to do all the repair work she needs done around here. The last guy she kept around until after April 15th because he was an accountant and wanted the taxes done,” Hannah explained. “So one of these days you won’t be around. Whichever of you ends it, I can’t figure that out yet.”

“I remember when we first met that you were always so quiet around me, and now look at you,” I reminded the blonde. “Giving me my death sentence.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “Maybe I’ll be gone before you learn how to read my thoughts.”

“Too late.”

“Is that right?” I chuckled.

“I’ve been in tune with you a lot lately, especially today.”

“Oh brother. Does that mean you know I don’t have much faith in that gutter I just fixed making it through another winter?”

“No. Other stuff, like how you can’t believe I could actually figure out how you and Mom are slowly going downhill,” Hannah said. “Stuff like you not really caring all that much because you’ve been starting to figure out what’s she’s really like.”

“You don’t like your Mom very much do you?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s complicated,” Hannah admitted. “It’s possible to love somebody and still not like them very much.”

“I guess that’s right. Any more thoughts of mine you’ve read?”

“Well, although you won’t admit it out loud you like this new look of mine,” Hannah giggled. “I don’t really think i read your mind on that. It’s more like you try not to look at me and avert your eyes when you think I might catch you checking me out. You blush a little when that happens. Like just now”

”It’s okay though, if you want to look at me. It’s not like there a line forming to get a peek at me,” Hannah related.

”I figured you wanted me to look at you or else you wouldn’t be sitting like that,” I told her as my level of discomfort rose. “Not nice to tease though.”

“Who said I was teasing? Maybe I just wanted to let you know that i’m not a kid and maybe I don’t canlı bahis siteleri have Mom’s body but I’m not that bad – hopefully,” Hannah said as she tried to push those pointy little cones out farther. “Maybe I was hoping that you wouldn’t feel guilty if you made a move on me.”


”You make Mom howl real loud when you do her on the nights you stay over,” Hannah told me, and when I laughed and told her there was no way she could hear anything at the other end of the house she had an answer for that too.

“Maybe I wander down the hall to find out what the ruckus is. Maybe I stand outside the bedroom door and listen with my ear to the wood. “

“Doesn’t sound like something you would do,” I opined and got a snort of a laugh in response when I suggested, “seeing how you’re so innocent and all.”


“Well your Mom must not make all that much noise if you have to lean on the door.”

“I can hear her fine but leaning against the door makes me feel like I’m almost in there, or even that I’m the one making those noises while you thrust so hard the bed frame hits the wall.”


“Do you know you make noises too?” the girl asked while ignoring my effort to stop her. “You make these snorting noises like a pig – no offense – and I picture you all wide-eyed with your sweat flying all over and your big dick splitting Mom in two.”

“It’s not all that big,” I lamely noted, either unable or unwilling to stop Hannah while she was on this roll.

“Know what I’m doing while I listen?” Hannah asked without waiting for an answer as she stood up and faced me, pulling her nightie up to reveal a mound with just a wisp of blonde hair around the opening while putting her hand down there. “Don’t begrudge me this pathetic pleasure. It’s not like anybody is ever going to fuck me.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” I insisted. “You’re very wrong about that besides.”

“You’re a nice man Roger. Who knows? Maybe you’re thinking – you know if it wasn’t for that scar on her hip and that limp I might jump her bones,” Hannah suggested while I tried not to look at her pale fingers toying with the fluff. “I’m wet you know.”

“I know,” I replied, seeing the skin glistening around the fold.

“Touch me Roger. Please?” Hannah asked, and when I hesitated she pleaded, “nobody has even touched me down there that liked me.”

My hand moved up towards her delta and Hannah moved her own hand to let me replace it, and the moist hair felt like a cloud as my fingers went up and down the cleft.

“Thank you,” Hannah whispered, and when I looked up I saw her eyes welling up. “Do you like me? Really like me I mean, not just out of pity or…”

“No. I really like you, a lot, but you have to realize that this…”

By then Hannah had taken me by the hand and led me to her bed, where after starting to sit down she stopped and lifted her arms high while whispering, “Take off my nightie Roger.”

I didn’t have the heart to say no and I felt that if I were to turn and walk out the door it would crush the girl, but those weren’t the reasons I stayed. I stayed because I wanted to, and when I reached down and took the hem of the nightie in my hands and lifted it up over her head it was because I wanted to. When it came off and she was naked, Hannah wasn’t my girlfriend’s kid but a woman, a gorgeous 19 year old young lady with a beautiful body.

It was easy to look past the nasty scar on her hip, and in fact I hardly noticed it because I was captivated by her amazing breasts, the firm little cones defying gravity by sticking straight out with strawberry nipples that practically demanded to be sucked on, but before I could move Hannah was sitting down on the edge of the bed

The girl’s hands fumbled a little with my belt, but when she looked up at me I abandoned any though of helping or stopping her. Hannah’s look screamed silently to me – don’t say a damn word – so I let her get the belt free on her own. Her trembling fingers were the only thing that gave away her nerves. After that my pants fell to the floor and she tugged my boxers down, even helping them off me before reaching out and grabbing my flaccid cock.

“You lied Roger. You do have a big one,” Hannah declared, and while I’m a little larger than the average no one had ever said that to me before, so I just enjoyed the comment and chalked it up to Hannah probably never having seen one up close and personal.

Hannah raised my semi-limp dick up to her lips, and as she flicked her tongue onto the tip of the glans I braced myself for what might be an embarrassing or even painful experience. That feeling lasted for only a few seconds because that’s how long it took for the teen to take the head of my cock in her mouth, and then her lips moved down the shaft until her face was buried in my pubes and Hannah seemed to be trying to swallow me whole.

She looked up at me with those doe-like eyes and pulled back, the wet skin of my organ glistening from tip to stump, and then her head bobbed furiously up and down while I stood there stunned with my hands in her hair. Hannah seemed almost possessed, her hands churning my balls and clawing at my ass while she sucked on my now fully erect dick, and I could feel the head hitting her throat every time she swooped down on it.

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