Wife isn't at all shy anymore!
My wife Katie is absolutely gorgeous. She could have made a fortune modelling, but always said it was a waste of her brain. She's 31, strawberry blonde - 5'9" tall - very slim and very leggy, with the most perfectly fit bottom you've ever seen. But the incredible bonus is that most stick-insect models of her build would have no bust at all, she, on the other hand, has a pair of breasts to die for. They are 36C and perfectly proportioned (Heidi Klum style).
You might wonder why I am waxing lyrical about her in such detail. The reason is that: I still can't believe that I managed to get her for myself... To cut to the chase, we met when she was an innocent 21 year old student and I was an experienced 28 year old successful guy who could jet her off to exotic places and bedeck her with expensive clothes and gifts. She used to be so coy and shy about her good looks and would come running to me at parties when she was being hit upon by just about every red-blooded guy in the place.
The thing is, as she has become more confident over the last few years, she has realized that she is extremely desirable in comparison with her friends. Men always start chatting to her friends and then ask what her name is and ask if she's single etc. Which you can imagine doesn't go down too well.
Katie has always told me that she thinks she is too thin, but she knows she has a fabulous pair of breasts. She has mentioned it more and more over the last few years. Of course, I was the one who would tell her initially, but she has heard the comment so often from her envious friends and various other men.
In her mid twenties she suddenly started opting to go braless if we were going to a party, yet she would always refuse when I asked her to not to wear a bra on a hot sunny afternoon going round the market, or on a warm night going out for a meal.
Thinking about it now, she would always wear something relatively normal on her lower body, like an ultra tight pair of jeans or a suede mini skirt and then would wear a minicule white linen top of tissue paper opacity held together by six buttons of which only one was actually done up. We would arrive with her wearing something like her washed-out cropped denim jacket so nobody took too much notice. You could just about make out her lack of bra because there wasn't the tell-tale lacy band stretched around her chest.
As we mingled around and naturally split up when moving between rooms and bumping into friends; a few more glasses of punch; a few more glasses of wine, and I would glance around the rooms and try to locate where Katie had got to.
It wasn't ever difficult, because I would always just simply home in on the largest group of single men and would generally find Katie in the middle of them... And guess what? She'd subtly removed her jacket off! So... her beautiful, exquisite breasts were a tissue paper's breath away from being totally bare - her nipples blowing kisses at these men through the transparent fabric - whilst allowing ample and unrestricted views of her perfectly shaped breasts as one small button across her cleavage kept it somehow decent.
As I walked towards I remember seeing her giggling at something her audience had said; her pendulous breasts began freely swinging. And then... (This is the bit that made me realise she had changed)... I saw her arch her back, stick her chest out... and wiggle her shoulders on cue... Wow..! Suddenly her amazing breasts were being talked about and she wasn't embarrassed at all - In fact, she was loving it. She was enjoying the attention so much she was almost at the point of showing these young guys the open doors of her toy shop.
If you're like me, and are a connoisseur of perfectly weighted ski-jump breasts then you're probably still reading my ramblings.
Good. Because I haven't even begun to start telling you what I witnessed in my back garden last summer. My wife has great tits and she knows it. She spent days wearing men's-cut string-vests and minicule cheese-cloth 'things' which occasionally covered her breasts just when our neighbours employed a team of hunky young tradesmen to set up scaffolding and repoint and re-paint their house. Katie was playing out her's and my fantasy.
I will continue with the story if anyone is interested, but I'm getting too turned on....
To be continued...
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A Story of love and loss set in World war II... |
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