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My wife and I have been married for five years and have enjoyed a long monogamous relationship. I never claimed to be real experienced at sex prior to our marriage and my wife went to the altar a virgin. However, we learned quickly and developed a very satisfying sex life. In fact, both of us like to have sex almost every day. If we can’t for some reason, we both get kind of cranky and obsessed until our urges are satisfied.

This has made us very compatible over the years. Tracy is a petite brunette with an ass that turns heads (mine, at least). At 5′ 1″ and 102 lbs. she has oversized breasts that capture one’s attention. I thank heaven that she picked me to be her life-partner.

About six months ago I received a call from an old “buddy” saying he was going to be in town for a couple of weeks and would like to get together with me and my wife. Steve and I had been really close before he stole my girlfriend from me our senior year. We had not talked since graduation. He went off to college and became an architect while I got a job at the mill. The only reason I eventually forgave him is because I figured he did me a favor. The girl I had been dating turned out to be a total slut. She hadn’t put out for me, but had developed quite a reputation after Steve had finished dating her. A short time later I met Tracy and my life has been wonderful ever since. Anyway, Steve offered to buy Tracy and me dinner at a nice restaurant while he was in town. During dinner, Steve mentioned he would be staying at a hotel out of town because a convention had booked all the local rooms. Well, Tracy would have none of that and kindly offered the use of our extra bedroom for the duration of his stay.

Steve quickly accepted. We hardly saw Steve the first couple of days he stayed because of his work schedule. However, Thursday evening Tracy accidentally walked in on Steve while he was getting out of the shower. She ran back into our bedroom gasping with a look of shock on her face. I asked her what happened and she explained that she had seen Steve naked. I told her it was no big deal. She said that it was indeed a big deal, an eight inch big deal and he was not even hard. I laughed and didn’t think much more of the incident until later that night. My wife and I were getting sexy and she was slowly stroking my 4 inches when she mentioned the size of Steve’s cock. She wondered how big it was hard. I told her that I would ask. She giggled and said it was no big deal. We both had a good laugh and some great sex.

The next day I thought “what the heck” and told Steve about the incident. He laughed and said that for Tracy’s information he was 16″ long when hard.

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Sex always seemed to be a contest for Lisa and Trey, a competition of imagination or stamina or daring or flexibility. Who could do what, where, how, the most?

To him she seemed to be a dream come true. An attractive older woman with no apparent inhibitions who floated into his life three or four times a year and then disappeared with out a trace. He suspected that she was a celebrity of some sort and that added spice to an already hot relationship.

He seemed like a child to her. A well-hung, sexually talented child who drew astonishing responses from her body. She enjoyed the relationship. There was something inexplicably delicious about playing the role of a “woman of mystery.”

They walked hand in hand through the intermittent drizzle into the nearly-deserted city zoo. Her full breasts bounced gently beneath the fabric of her lavender blouse which was tucked into a long flowing skirt beneath which she wore nothing at all. She was already wet with anticipation. “Where’s the aviary?”

He grinned, “What’s the hurry? Don’t you want to see the wild animals?”

“Only one, dear. Only one.” They took the path up the hill and entered the net-covered aviary. The gravel path wound through dense foliage in which all manner of brightly colored birds perched. There were concrete benches set back into the foliage at irregular intervals along the path.

This had been an excellent choice. There was no one around and even the normally raucous birds were somewhat subdued by the rain.

He chose a bench midway along the path and sat facing the direction of the entrance, then pulled her to stand before him and raised her skirt. He stroked the wiry red-brown curls that framed her pussy, ran a finger lightly over her long inner lips which protruded slightly, a deep rosy pink and slippery wet.

She lifted her leg, putting one foot on the bench beside him and reached down and pulled her inner lips wide apart, opening herself to his eyes and fingers and mouth. She felt his warm hands cupping her ass and then the sweet shock as velvet met velvet, his tongue moved tenderly around and over her clit and he sucked at it gently.

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“He’s obsessed with boobs,” complained Maria, a new recruit to Mistress Jennifer’s cadre of dominant feminizers of hapless men. “My husband Bob just stares at any woman with a full figure–the fuller the better.”

It was easy to see why this disturbed her. Maria, though extremely attractive, was a petite, small-boned woman who was far from buxom. I was privy to this conversation, along with Teasing Tammy, because Jennifer, Maria, and Tammy’s sister and dominatrix, Susan, intended to use us to bring the unsuspecting Bob into a trap–a trap that would deprive him of his manliness forever, it seemed.

Tammy, though only 16, had been designed by Susan and Jennifer as the ultimate cock-tease, with full 35 C breasts. Although my own alternate persona, Sissy Dani, was generally less generously endowed, for this adventure I was also padded out to Playmate-like dimensions.

We were sent out to meet Bob at one of his favorite hangouts, a bar that specialized in attracting men who “appreciated” bosomy types. I was dressed for “bear”–a skin-tight white satin cocktail dress that played up my bogus breasts with a very short skirt, five-inch white satin heels, and dramatic make-up. Tammy had also been dressed to look older: She wore a black leather outfit, also extremely tight and short, with six-inch heels and equally dramatic make-up.

Our instructions (enforced by the post-hypnotic suggestions that created our submissive personalities) were to approach Bob, get him to buy us drinks, and then get him back to Jennifer’s house for his own transformation.

Within minutes after we arrived, I spotted Bob at the bar. “Well, hello there,” I cooed as I approached him, playing up my charms as much as I could.

“Hello yourself, little lady,” Bob replied, smiling. He looked me up and down, pausing noticeably (as expected) at my bust line. “And who’s this little heartbreaker?” he asked, as Tammy sidled up to his other side.

“That’s my sister, Tammy,” I replied. “I’m Dani.”

He put his arms around our waists, in the process letting his hands graze our “boobs.” I suggested he buy us a round of drinks. He made the order, and I told him and Tammy to find a quiet table and I would bring the drinks when they were ready. Bob readily agreed, seeing a chance, I suppose, to make a little time with the enticing Tammy while alone.

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She was humming as she changed the sheets from the smooth percale she liked to the fuzzy flannel he preferred. She imagined what she would do to him tonight, and her humming grew quieter until finally it ceased.

First she would undress him, slowly, slowly, kissing him softly as each bit of flesh became visible. “To keep it from getting cold,” she would say teasingly. They’d done this before — he would say, “No fear of that!” and they would laugh together as she began to stroke his skin with her warm hands.

Then she would push him slowly back until he fell onto the bed and she would take his penis into her hand. By now he would be fully erect, and it would jump as she touched it. They would laugh again at this familiar occurrence.

Next she would begin to lick him with little, teasing cat-laps at his skin, all over him, from his collarbones to his toes, but avoiding his crotch. She would roll him over and lap at his back, covering every inch of his skin, and then she would suck at his toes…

The phone rang, shattering the intimate silence. She picked it up. “Hello? Oh, hi! I was just thinking about you! When are you getting here? Oh. Oh, I see. Yes. Yes. Bye, then.” He wasn’t coming after all. Again. She was momentarily disappointed, but then she began to get angry.

“Who needs you anyway?” she demanded of the walls in a quiet but intense voice. “Damn you!” She was already wet and wanting from her imaginings.

She went downstairs to put away the wine she had gotten out for him. She seldom drank wine herself; she disliked the taste. She paused, looking at the bottle. It was almost empty. “Am I sex-starved, or what?” she asked herself, as she noted the phallic shape of the bottle’s neck. She picked up the bottle and one of her two crystal wineglasses and took them up to her bedroom and set them on the nightstand.

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At last, we’re alone. Ever since your return, we’ve been surrounded. Your friends, my friends, our friends. All day long, I’ve been looking at you. Relearning the way you look, the way you move. Wanting to have you to myself as soon as possible. Well, now it’s possible. We’ve seen everyone off, and it’s bedtime. So now, behind three sets of closed doors, we are alone.

We stand by the bed on the cold hardwood floor. I turn off the light and look at you in the cool moon-glow streaming through the windows. I’ve never told you how wonderful you look in your nightclothes, even though you’re only wearing a t-shirt and sweats, the same as me. I think you can tell from the look in my eyes how much I love you, how much I’ve missed having you with me.

We move to each other, and my arms wrap around you as yours encircle me. We stand, unmoving, feeling each other’s warmth, glorying in having something substantial to hold on to. No more dream-hugs, waking to find my arms clenched tightly across my chest. Now my arms are around you, and I know that you’ll still be here in the morning.

We move apart, ever so slightly, and look into each other’s eyes. Our faces move closer, and our lips meet for the first time in what seems like years. We kiss tenderly, then firmly, our passion restrained, then wanton. Your lower lip quivers as i run my tongue along it, then you follow suit, licking my lips as I taste you again, for the first time.

I move my lips across your cheek, nibbling at your flesh, approaching your ear. I reach it, and whisper what I’ve wanted to scream out loud this whole day long:

“I love you.”

The words, and the rush of air accompanying them, cause a wave to flow over you. I hold you as your body trembles. You hold me tighter and tighter still. Still we stand, together and in love.

Your hands loosen their grip on my body and I feel them traveling up and down my back, your fingertips playing across the back of my shirt. I do the same for you, rubbing your muscles through the cotton. Muscles sore from travel and heavy baggage begin to loosen as we rub each other, pressing our bodies together, kissing, then hugging, then rubbing some more.

I run a fingertip along the collar of your shirt, lightly touching your skin. Your breath catches in your throat.

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