Thy Neighbor's Wife
(and Other Sins)
A Fantasy
by
Copyright 2001 © Richard O Steele. All rights reserved
Chapter 16
As they finally pulled away, long strings of saliva stretched between their mouths. Peter and Julie certainly did know how to get inside each other's faces!
Even though the kiss had broken, Peter kept on squeezing and rubbing Julie's enormous breasts. He just couldn't keep his hands off them!
"You really like those things, don't you," Julie observed.
"Oh, honey, your tits are so great!" Peter moaned.
"I'm really glad you like 'em," Julie responded. "You really know how to treat 'em, too. My tits are so sensitive! You just send thrills up and down my tits when you play with my breasts like that. Baby!"
Julie flung her wide-open mouth against Peter's. His tit work was getting her so hot!
When the kiss ended, Julie licked Peter's cheek a few times and then began to talk. "I can actually have an orgasm just from getting felt up," she continued. "It's happened lots of times with you already. And when a guy really knows how to suck my nipples ... wow! ... I can just come and come and come."
Julie looked lovingly at Peter. "Guess what, honey? You're the best! Your hot mouth and tongue on my tits have sure rung my bell today! Lots and lots of times!"
This tit talk was getting Peter so hot that he was now wildly sucking on Julie's fossilized right nipple while his frantic hands roamed ceaselessly up and down the fat shaft of tit flesh. This guy did not know how to leave a tit alone! And Julie was so glad he didn't!
When Peter finally calmed down a bit, Julie got a serious look on her face. "I hope you know that even though my tits can really feel sexy, they're not always my best friends."
"I bet they can really kill your back," Peter suggested. He was offering in earnest the comment he had made to Amanda as a stratagem.
"That's the least of it," Julie shot back. "Ever since my bust got really developed, I've religiously done hours and hours of back exercises every week. You can't tell from looking at me, but my back is heavily muscled. I'm in shape, friend. I can carry these huge things around without much pain and suffering. Unless I spend the whole day on my feet or something, they're really not a problem. Not in that way at least!"
"In what way then?" Peter inquired. Of course, he was pretty sure he already knew the answer!
"Embarrassment. Feeling like a freak. Being a spectacle. That's what causes me problems," Julie answered.
'Baby!" Peter exclaimed. "You're none of those things! You're a sweet, smart, funny, beautiful, curvy, sexy woman. Don't even think thoughts like that!"
Julie smiled ruefully. "Peter, I know you're sincere but you're not the one who has to walk around with these gigantic breasts. If you were to walk a mile in my shoes — or perhaps in my bra" — Julie began to giggle at the thought — "you'd have a different perspective, believe me!"
"I suppose," Peter said thoughtfully. "I mean, it's so great to love them up. Being attached to them physically might be a whole different story, I guess!"
Peter thought for a moment. "Has it always been like that. I mean, even when you were a young kid, when you started developing?"
"Always," Julie answered, "at least almost always."
"When did you start to develop?" Peter asked.
"It's funny," Julie responded. "At first I started to develop just like any other girl. I was about eleven, I think, when those telltale little pinpricks began to appear in my sweaters. I guess I began to develop a little faster than most girls because when I was eleven I wore a 28C-cup bra. Actually, it was a stretch to fit into it — I was really more like a 28B."
"Sounds normal to me," said Peter, who had once again begun to massage and rub a pair of breasts that were today considerably in excess of 28C's!
"It was normal — for a while," Julie said. "Only things went haywire when I was twelve. In less than two months, I'd say, I was up to a regular 28C — a full C, I should say. I began overflowing that bra almost immediately. By the time I got measured again several months later, just after my thirteenth birthday, I needed a 30DD-cup!"
"Wow!" Peter whistled. "That's more growth than an Iowa corn field in July!"
"Things were really tough for me in school," Julie recalled. "I was in eighth grade, and if you can remember you know that there is no crueler creature on Earth than an eighth grade boy. I was getting hooted at, snickered at, and, occasionally, even pawed at in the halls. It was horrible!"
"Wow!" Peter threw in. He had taken his hands off Julie's bosom. This was the time to be a full-time listener.
"And the girls were no help at all. They seemed to equate having big tits with being 'fast' — which I wasn't at all. The result: the boys wouldn't let me alone and the girls shunned me. I was one miserable little girl! Except I wasn't little! Not anymore!"
Peter slowly shook his head in sympathy.
"The reason I got measured right then, by the way," Julie continued, "was that my parents had seen enough. They took me down to Penn to an endocrinologist to find out what in the world was going on!"
"And?" Peter asked.
"It turned out I had a condition. A condition called 'virginal hypertrophy'. Have you ever heard of it?"
"I think so," said Peter. The breast-struck fellow was being considerably less than candid, of course. In the course of surfing the Internet for big tits, he had run across a number of hypertrophy web sites. He even knew enough to have concluded that Lakisha was undoubtedly a hypertroph. He thought, however, that it would play better if he feigned a mere nodding acquaintance with the subject. After all, he did not want to be perceived as a big tit fiend! Heaven forbid! Owning up to a detailed knowledge of Julie's condition might well have that effect!
"Well," Julie explained, "it's characterized by unnatural breast growth. It afflicts teenage girls. They usually start to develop normally. Then it's as if their breast growth genes get stuck in the 'on' position. They just don't stop developing — well, at least not for a long, long time."
"I think I've seen pictures of girls like that," Peter allowed. He had decided to slip a little candor into the conversation for the purpose of empathy. "But don't they have really fatty, ugly tits that hang down like sort of shapeless bags. Really overstretched ones. Ugh!"
"Usually, yes." Julie agreed. "In fact, most girls with the conditions undergo breast reduction surgery as soon as they stop developing. And that was the plan for me, too."
"Golly!" Peter exclaimed. "Obviously there was a change in those plans!" exclaimed Peter, adding to himself, "thank the Lord!"
"Yes, there was," Julie acknowledged. "For a lot of reasons. First, I was not a typical patient. Unlike most girls with hypertrophy, my breasts were normally shaped. That is, I was huge but my breasts were not shaped like those of the typical hypertroph. They looked like everybody else's — only bigger. A whole lot bigger!"
"No doubt about that," Peter murmured. He was ogling Julie's shapely but immense bosom with an eye to resuming his fondling. His good sense, though, told him this was still was a time to listen and commiserate — not to molest! Down, boy!
"Anyway, they would not have considered operating on me until I was eighteen or nineteen. By then I was supposed to be pretty fully developed. Yet the fact that my bosom was still normally shaped — even though the damn thing wouldn't stop growing — continued to be a strong factor disfavoring surgery."
"What other factors came into play," Peter inquired.
"That I was afraid, was one," Julie responded. "Terrified is a better word for it! Breast reduction surgery is painful ... very painful! And then I had heard that in some cases the girls have what they call 'phantom pain' after the operation. That is, you can still feel pain even in the parts of the breasts that were removed. It's no longer there but it still hurts like hell. Crazy! You can have it for years, maybe for life! It sounds weird but it happens to people who have legs amputated — they can still feel pain sometimes in the area below the stump. It's a nerve thing, I guess!"
"Horrible!" Peter agreed.
Julie then smiled. "Then there was a much more carnal reason for not having the surgery. My breasts are such exciting sexual objects for me. Like I said, I really can get off on them. All through my teenage years, I would lie in bed at night sucking my tits. I was so sensitive that I could have orgasm after orgasm. Sometimes a dozen a night. After I figured a way to prop up a tit so I could suckle my breasts while fingering my clitoris or ramming fingers up my pussy at the same time — whoa! — I was up to twenty or so cums a night! Really strong ones. Who needs guys?" The memory made Julie giggle.
Peter groaned inwardly at the thought. The image of Julie sucking her gargantuan tits into orgasm was a very arousing thought! "I can just see you doing it, baby," Peter moaned. "It sounds so exciting!"
"Actually, Julie continued, "I figured out a way to cradle my tits in one forearm so I could suck both my nipples at the same time as I was fingering my clittie or ramming four fingers up my pussy! I guess I was a lucky girl to be able to do that!"
A huge slurp of pre-cum seeped out of Peter's cockhole. This talk of simultaneous tit sucking and finger fucking was so thrilling!
Peter knew he had to wrench his mind off this subject lest he suffer a immediate spontaneous ejaculation! "But weren't the guys at school all over you?" Peter broke in.
"Yes and no," Julie answered. "Certainly, as my bust got larger and larger, guys started hanging around. Like bears to honey, actually. Once I got into high school, the guys stopped being mean like they'd been in middle school. They started to get sweet ... and needy, too, if you know what I mean. Real needy!"
Peter smiled. "How big had you gotten then," he asked. He had begun, as stealthily as possible, to fondle his own cock. This talk of expanding tits was inflaming him!
"By the middle of my freshman year, I was wearing a 30H-cup," Julie said. "I was getting really, really big!" At the beginning of my sophomore year, when I turned sixteen, I was in a 32M-cup. That's bigger! That's enormous!" Julie then reached over and wrapped her hands around Peter's now straining boner. "Sweetheart! You don't have to pull your own pud! Let me help. I love to play with your cock!"
Julie continued with her story while she slowly moved her lover's taut cockskin up and down his granite-like shaft. Peter was so stiff ... and so huge!
"All during high school my breasts kept expanding at an amazing rate. By the end of my junior year I was wearing a 34T-cup bra. Of course, that's just a guess. The 32H-cup bra I bought during my freshman year was the last stock item I could find. After that, they were all made to order; the sizes were just guesses the seamstresses made."
At this point, Peter was too inflamed to keep his hands off Julie's immense bosom. After all, if she could play with his straining boner.... With a groan, he reached over and cupped the tip of her enormous left tit with both hands. The massive mound of flesh greatly overflowed his shaking palms and splayed fingers but that simply made the sensation all the more thrilling. It was so heavy, so soft, and so exciting!
"I bet the boys kept getting more and more hot and bothered at the size of your tits," Peter exclaimed with a moan.
"They sure did. The problem was that I just couldn't hook up with the right sort of fellow. The guys I really liked were afraid to go after my breasts even though, after a few dates, I was dying for them to feel me up. They acted as if they might break or something!"
"Hmmm!" Peter groaned. "No chance of that!" The sex-stunned fellow had moved on to Julie's mountainous right tit.
"In retrospect, I should just have taken their hand and put it on my breast. But a high school girl — especially one who's so self-conscious about her bosom in the first place — could never do anything like that!"
"Hmmm!" Peter exclaimed. He was getting too sexually aroused to contribute more to the conversation than stray animal grunts.
Julie, even though she was extremely sexually aroused, still wanted to talk. The two were lying side by side. Their bodies were not touching, however; it was as if each had reserved enough working space to be able to give full sway to the attention each wanted to devote to the other's privates.
Peter's ministrations to Julie's massive tits were making her pussy gush with love juice. Her own excitement at languidly jacking off her lover's massive dick was adding to the vaginal flow. Still, it was good to talk about these things from her past. There would be plenty of time later to deal with the crescendo of sexual thrills that was continually bubbling up between the two.
Peter had never seen a girl get as hot as Julie was right now. Her skin was flushed and mottled with red patches. Her nipples were stunningly long and erect. Her legs were widely spread as a silent invitation to Peter to slip his colossal pork inside her twat any time the spirit moved him.
As Peter examined Julie's puffy, purple-tinted pussy lips, he was astonished to see a stream of foamy cunt juice pouring — even bubbling! — from between her slit. Peter did not know if it was even possible for a person to be more sexually aroused than Julie was right now. Given the rapt attention the giant busted woman was giving to his sex snake, however, Peter felt as if he was about to join his lover on that exalted level of arousal!
At least for now, though, Julie wanted to talk, not fuck; it was important for her to tell her story. "On the other hand," she therefore continued, "there were the guys who wanted to cop a feel on the first date. Not a chance! An approach like that really made me feel like a sexual object instead of a real person. Those guys never got a second date, let alone the mauling they were yearning for. So, for the most part, I alternated between sweet guys who were afraid to touch my breasts and assholes that wanted to molest me almost before we had pulled out of the driveway. The result, as you might imagine, was a whole of autoerotic breast love in my bedroom! It also explains why I was still a virgin when I met Andre at college."
"What an awful experience," Peter agreed. He was making a real effort to contribute to the conversation instead of simply losing himself in the soft pillows of Julie's oversized chest.
"Yep," Julie declared. "It was that. It got to the point that I wouldn't even talk to any guy who stared at my chest 'cause I was so self-conscious about my huge bosom!"
Peter suddenly let go of Julie's enormous udder. He could actually hear it flop down against her chest! "Jesus, honey! That's exactly what I was doing the night of the pool party. And even before that! I'm surprised you even gave me the time of day!"
Julie suddenly colored. "Well ... hmm ... that was different. For one thing I had spotted you first, remember? Next, you were so handsome! Don't let it go to your head, sweetheart, but you were the best looking guy I have ever seen! That can make up for a lot of staring! Plus, that means that I started it, not you. That's important!"
"Baby!" Peter responded. He returned to his tactile pursuit of Julie's huge milkers.
"And then, finally," Julie continued, "there was that giant bulge in your swimming suit. The problem with the guys in school was that they just wanted to take, take, take. When I checked out the size of your genitals at the pool party– I just couldn't believe how huge they just had to be! — I could see that if anything ever developed between us, it was not going to be a one-sided deal. We both had a lot to offer each other. That made all the difference! I could just tell we were going to share our amazing endowments. This was not a situation in which one party was just going to take something from the other without giving back an equal amount of goodies."
"Oh, honey!" Peter moaned. He roughly pulled the ultra-bosomed woman toward him. Almost immediately his long tongue was frantically searching the hot interior of Julie's mouth. His hand dropped down from her breast. Peter then moved his fingers in between her long, fat cleavage, and slipped them inside her dripping pussy. Peter was soon Frenching and finger-fucking his hot buxom lover with almost debilitating ardor. Their mouths were so wide open as their lips slipped and slid against each other that any wider kiss would have risked jaw break!
As the hot kiss went on and on and on, Julie knew she wanted to fuck so very badly. Her still-ravaged pussy felt up to it — more or less! It was sore — really sore — but so what! This guy was so special that the exquisite pleasure of taking his huge snake up her twat was worth a whole lot of pain.
At the same time, she wanted to finish her story. Peter was such a sympathetic listener, and it felt so good to put her experiences and feelings into words.
The face-swallowing kiss finally subsided. Peter withdrew his soaked fingers from Julie's stretched-out cunt. As the lovers disengaged their hungry mouths, Julie bestowed a couple of slow passionate licks on Peter's cheek. She was so hot for the guy!
After a few minutes of staring and stroking, Julie was calmed down enough to continue her story. "Well, I just kept growing and growing. Midway through my senior year, I'd guess I was wearing a 34Y-cup."
Peter suddenly perked up. "What a minute! Does that mean that you've got the same cup size now as when you were in high school?"
Julie turned a light shade of scarlet. Peter had been paying close attention! Julie had nodded — and now she was caught in a major inconsistency! She thought for a moment, licked her lips, and started to explain. "Well, honey, I guess I didn't tell you the whole truth. That 34Y-cup was my seamstress's guess. Back in high school, that is. I was so horrified that I almost closed my hands over my ears. I decided that was it! Even if I got bigger, I was going to stick with that Y-cup figure. It's like a woman being 29 — which actually is my age, by the way — but then refusing to admit to any age past that point even though the years are rolling on. That's what I'm doing. I'm a Y-cup. Period!" Julie smirked. "Honey, like the old saying goes, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!"
"But you are bigger, aren't you?" Peter inquired. He did not want to display his certainty that she was way beyond a Z-cup; knowing too much on the subject could be counterproductive.
"Lots bigger," Julie admitted.
"And that 63" measurement?" Peter pressed.
"Ancient history!" Julie acknowledged. "That was my chest measurement when I stopped counting cup sizes." She paused for a moment. How much did she want to tell this fellow? Nearly everything, she quickly decided.
"I do know my chest size," she admitted, "because I make so many of my own clothes. They don't carry dresses in the stores to fit my figure, you can be sure! It's even hard to get a sweater and skirt combination. The skirts — no problem! The sweaters, or blouses — big problem! I can find them with enough space for my tits at places like Lane Bryant and stuff, but they usually have huge armholes and very broad backs. The stores just don't carry clothes for a girl with huge breasts on a slim body."
"What are your actual measurements, then?" Peter asked. This fellow was on a mission for truth!
"Well, my band size is 36" for bra purchases; that's up from 34" when I was in high school and college. I get them custom made at a little lingerie shop in Ardmore. The seamstress and I simply don't speculate about what the actual cup size might be. She has a whole lot of customers who simply would rather not know their real cup size, thank you very much! And I'm one of them. So my cup size is now officially 36-whatever!"
"So what did those 63-24-36 numbers become ... really?" Peter was not to be denied!
"Would you believe 85-24-36?" Julie whispered. "If I stood over there and you ran a tape round my back, up here," she continued, "then all the way down and around my left breast, across both nipples and all the way back up the other side, I hate to think how huge I'd be!"
Peter moaned at the thought. "What if I use my hands instead?"
"Silly!" Julie exclaimed. "I know you love huge. But knowing exactly how huge is no help to my dressmaker; what she needs to know is how far I am around the bust when I'm wearing a bra that holds me up to the max — that's with my nipples at about the level of my stomach," she added, blushing crimson. "No bra in the world could hold them up any higher than that!"
Peter had resumed his passionate fondling of Julie's enormous bosom. "Yes, I would believe it," he replied. "And I love it, too," he added. "Your tits are so great, honey!"
"So anyway," Julie went on, "I just kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger."
"And the crowds of boys kept getting larger and larger and larger?" Peter inquired.
"No! The huger I got the less they came around. I think they were just flummoxed by the size of my tits ... they simply did not know how to deal it. Unlike you, dearest ... you're doing such a great job ... keep that up, please!"
"The fools!" Peter commented, as his hot hands rubbed and squeezed Julie's massive jug.
"Actually, it was about that time a couple of teachers started hitting on me ... big time! They started asking me to say after school for extra help and extra credit 'n stuff."
"And?"
"And nothing! Yuck! I really needed a boyfriend just for companionship at least. But a teacher? No way, Jose!"
"Good for you," Pete agreed.
"Actually, my senior year was just mortifying!"
"How so?"
"The main thing, I got nominated for Homecoming Queen, that's how!"
"Hmm ... and you think somebody did it just to embarrass you, as a prank?"
"No doubt in my mind," Julie responded.
"Possible," Peter agreed. "God, how cruel if that's why they did it. Yet you're so gorgeous. It certainly could have been on the level. How did you do?"
Julie hesitated a moment and then looked down into her lap — which proved impossible because it was covered up with two humongous tits. "I won," she said in a small voice.
Peter smiled. "Honey, being nominated could have been a joke. But actually winning the contest? I don't think so! I bet you were the most beautiful girl in the class. Hell, you probably won in spite of your tits!
"Maybe...." Julie was plainly very dubious. "My reign as Queen was so embarrassing, though. Getting fitted for a formal gown ... it had to be custom made — naturally! You can imagine how my 34-whatever tits exploded out of that outfit! Imagine me riding in a float at the football game. 10,000 fans in the stands with their eyes bugging out in disbelief. That crowd broke the old Wyoming Valley High School attendance record by 3,000! Gag!"
Peter smiled. He could just imagine how word of mouth around Scranton had jacked up the attendance for that game! Nobody — at least not the guys — were going to pass up a chance to check out a homecoming queen with massive tits that hung down to her waist! Especially when she was slim and beautiful on top of it!
But he let it pass. Instead, he asked, "Did you go to the homecoming dance?"
"That was the only good part. A guy named George Ricketts asked me out. He was a really sweet fellow I had had my eyes on for just months! I did everything but back flips to let him know I was interested. He finally got the hint and asked me to the dance!"
"Any action?"
"Not that night. George was a perfect gentleman — darn it! — like most of the guys I really liked. But unlike the others, things started happening when we began going out. We dated for the rest of the year."
"You're ignoring my question," Peter broke in. "Any action?"
Julie smiled. "A real voyeur, aren't you? Well, on about the sixth date, George ventured a brushed hand against my breast. I moaned and mashed it into my chest — hard! George got the message!"
"Good for George," Peter enthused.
"Things started getting serious — in a sedate sort of way! That was fine with me, though, 'cause I was still so inexperienced — even as a high school senior." Julie got a faraway look in her eyes as she recalled her time with George. "By the senior prom — which we attended together — George was sucking and licking my bare tits. It was so thrilling! And do you know what?"
"What?"
Julie laughed. "It was a whole lot more exciting having a guy do it to me than doing it to myself!"
"Of course," Peter smiled, "guys have known that about themselves since ... since always!"
Julie gave Peter a swat on the arm and continued her story. "By the end of the summer, George and I were diddling with our privates. Then we went off to college. I figured we would be making plain old love over Christmas vacation."
"And you did?"
"We didn't! George went off to Penn State and, guess what ... he got himself a new girl friend. Maybe I had been too slow and deliberate for him. Anyway he spent Christmas in Pittsburgh with his new girl friend and that was that. No more George."
"She was probably giving him the family jewels," Peter ventured.
"Probably," Julie agreed. "But he must have liked them a whole lot because they got married a year later. Confidentially, I think he knocked her up and had to get married. But I hear they're still married with three or four kids. Living back in Scranton, actually. Oh, well."
Julie sighed. "I went back to Chapel Hill and continued my pattern — going out with nice guys who didn't dare touch my bosom and fending off assholes who wanted to do nothing but. I just couldn't find the happy medium. I dated around in that way for my first two years at UNC and then at the beginning of my junior year I met Andre." Julie reached over and kissed Peter on the cheek. "And you know the rest," she concluded.
"What a story!" Peter exclaimed.
"Yep ... George, Andre, Norman ... and you! Not a straight line progression, that's for sure!" Julie observed. "Still, I definitely saved the best for last!"
"Sweetheart!" Peter whispered in return.
Julie then got a thoughtful look on her beautiful face. "You know, I often return to the idea of getting these things chopped off. Early in our marriage, I went out all the time to shop and stuff. It was awful! I'd get hit on all the time. Cars would screech to a stop on the street while I was walking along just so the drivers could chat me up. I got stared at, yelled at, and even propositioned. Guys would come up to me on the street, assuming I was a prostitute. I mean, with tits like this I must be a whore, right? It was awful, Peter!"
Peter put his arm around Julie and gave her a warm, loving hug.
"As a result, I started wearing those horrid old muumuus. Even they didn't always work, so I started just staying home. When you stay home you don't always bother fixing up your hair or your face. I was becoming a positive unkempt recluse. I even started eating too much. Only my good genes — my parents are both skinny as rails — saved me from developing a body to match my tits."
The stupendously buxom woman looked up with searching eyes at her lover. "The reason I didn't get 'em sliced off, I guess, is 'cause I got so much sexual pleasure from my breasts. Norman is such a humdrum lover. It helps a lot to be able to get off on sucking my titties during the day. It almost makes me feel like a whole woman. Almost!"
Julie's face then brightened. "Then, too, if I had cut 'em off, I doubt we would be here right now. Don't get me wrong; this afternoon certainly can't make up for years of misery. But it sure is wonderful. I love you, Peter!"
Julie put her hand in his. He squeezed back. Peter and Julie had achieved a moment of real closeness.
"So, I think I'll keep 'em. For now, anyway." She smiled. "What being with you does is tell me is how wonderful life can be. Even with embarrassingly huge tits. Thank you, sweetheart."
End of Chapter 16
|