Gender: Male Age: 41 Location: northern VA
|Introduction: my wife goes braless, and I thank her for it|
(MF, mast, oral, tits)
© 2005 Rhys.The.Mage
I was constantly badgering my wife to wear things I thought were sexy. Problem was, not only did we have different ideas about the definition of sexy, I was pretty sure she did not think she was sexy. Of course, after being married for over ten years, I figured that someone else’s idea of sexy didn’t matter nearly as much as my own. As for her, it seemed that brafree in loose clothes was about as close as she could go to dressing in line with my desires. She is, I’ll admit, on the big side. She also has big tits. Easily a D and sometimes a DD cup.
Although I asked her regularly to wear things just for my benefit, over time I grew tired of asking and just decided that if my wife wanted to look a bit frumpy that was my lot in life. I don’t know if it was my rather incessant surfing of porn and smut on the web or what, but one day that all changed and things were never the same.
I was sitting at the computer playing some dumb game when she walked into the room bare breasted. This didn’t really surprise me. Some time ago I asked her to go topfree in the house whenever the A/C was on and the blinds were closed. She stood there, waiting patiently for me to get to a stopping point with whatever I was doing. I hit quick save and took off the headphones.
“I’ve had an epiphany,” she said, with a slight smile on her face.
“Good thing I’m sitting down,” I said. She didn’t say anything. “Are you going to share it with me?”
She grinned a somewhat evil grin. “Nope, you’ll just have to figure it out.”
I shrugged and reached for the headphones.
“Do you want to go out for dinner?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, grabbing the headphones.
She didn’t move but she did lift her tits and squeeze them in my general direction. “Nowww?” she asked.
I sighed, only a little, and closed down the game. “Okay,” I said.
I walked into the bedroom closet to find a pair of shorts and a decent shirt. I was putting on my shirt as she was sifting through clothes.
“What should I wear?” she asked. I figured she was talking to herself but for my benefit, signaling we might be a few minutes. Louder, she said, “What should I wear?”
Jokingly, I reached past her and grabbed one of my favorites. It was a very thin black and white shirt. Probably rayon or something. It wasn’t shear, but it was thin.
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’d like to see me braless in this?” she asked, holding the top over her tits.
I shrugged. “I love your tits, you know. And you’d only be wearing it for me.”
“And everyone else in the room will also be enjoying the show.”
“And how often do you look around the room watching people watch you?” No reply. I grabbed my shorts and headed down stairs.
I picked up my keys and wallet off the counter and went out the backdoor into the garage. I opened the door and got into the car. Val came out the door a minute behind me wearing the black and white top. I don’t know if anyone would notice all that much, but her tits were clearly moving freely under the top. She got in the car and looked at me. “What?” she asked.
“Wow,” I said.
She grinned. “So where are we going for dinner?”
I figured this might be a rare opportunity, so while part of me wanted to go easy and hit a nice dark restaurant with a short walk, I decided to go all out. I ran through the choices in my mind and settled on one. “How about CPK?”
She thought for a moment and then said, “Okay.”
I drove to the nearest California Pizza Kitchen and pulled up in front of the place instead of directly parking. “Why don’t you get us a table or on the list and I’ll go park?” She nodded and got out of the car. I drove to the far side mall entrance and parked as near to the door as I could. We would have a long walk through the mall after dinner—if she didn’t get pissed and just tell me to go get the car.
Back at CPK I noticed Val was already seated. I joined her in a booth that was actually one of the more secluded ones (if that was possible at all). She was looking over a menu and sitting kind of close to the table. I immediately knew what I was going to ask her, but the waitress arrived, looking for drink orders.
Val spoke first, “Do you have Smirnoff Ice?” The waitress nodded. “I’ll have one of those.”
“Diet coke,” I said. The waitress turned to go. Had she looked down toward Val as she had left? Unlikely.
My wife folded her menu and put it on the table. “I know what I want.”
I looked up from my menu and noticed she was in fact sitting forward in her seat. Her breasts, under the thin top, were clearly setting on the table. I smiled. “I love it when you do that.”
“I know,” she said. “But I think it bothers our waitress.”
I put my menu down. “So what,” I said, “she isn’t married to you.” I leaned forward, “And I love how that displays your tits.”
Staying in position, she said, “I can’t eat like this you know.”
“Well, it is obvious the table is holding up my boobs. And it is pretty obvious they aren’t in a bra.”
“And besides the waitress who else has to see the display? And why does it matter?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to be that forward. Isn’t the top nice?”
“You know it is, and you know I love it. Very nice of you to wear it that way. Thank you.”
She grinned widely, “You’re welcome.”
Our drinks arrived and Val still made no attempt to back away from the table. The waitress set her bottle down on the table a safe distance away from Val’s boobs. “Are you ready to order?” We put our order in and got back to small talk.
Val sat back from the table. “It’s a bit uncomfortable sitting like that. I have to keep my back straight to be tall enough to pull that off.” I grinned wickedly. She rolled her eyes at me. “Wearing this and pulling it off are two completely different things.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable just showing my boobs to someone. Bare I mean.”
I drank my soda. This was nothing new. Having her bare her tits to a random trucker on the highway was a persistent fantasy of mine, but hey, you get used to it. I didn’t need to say anything and I didn’t.
“But I have decided I can wear things braless for you…” she paused. I raised an eyebrow.
“Within reason,” she finished.
Again, nothing new. The black and white top and the table display were different though. I decided to stay quiet.
“So why do you like to me to dress this way?”
“I like the way you look. Being braless, and somewhat obviously, tells the world you are okay with the way you look, or at least that you don’t care what they think. Men like looking at boobs move. Why else display cleavage at all?” I sipped my coke and went on. “So the only people who might, might think less of you have to be threatened by you. I think that is laughable since you and I are only for each other. Lastly, it is as close to exhibitionism as I am likely to ever get you outside of Key West, and it is one hundred percent legal everywhere. I don’t even see how anyone could say anything to you about it. And even if they did, I would laugh in their face if you didn’t.” I think that pretty much summed it up.
“I was expecting something like, ‘I like to watch your boobs move.’”
“Well, that to. But while we are walking I don’t really get to watch them move.”
“So I guess I should lay down some ground rules,” she said. This is where the fun usually stopped.
“No see thru tops. I don’t bare my boobs anytime it is reasonably likely someone else can see them. Nothing overtly trashy.” Seeing my expression, she said, “I am not going to wear tank tops that are way to small or bikini tops out in public. And nothing with a bare midriff, for now.” I had heard this before. It sounded good, but the first time I picked out something like a regular t-shirt, she balked. Even the thin top she wore now was less obvious that one of her work out t-sirts. “And I might bring a bra in my purse in case things get to weird.”
“Weird?” I asked.
“Like we run into people that make me feel self-conscious.”
“You are always self conscious.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I still don’t see that it matters. What is someone going to say? ‘You’re braless! I’m scandalized!’ What’s the matter with that, are you jealous of my boobs? And why are you checking them out anyway?”
“You don’t understand,” she said.
I nodded. Back to square one. But she was still in the black and white top. “And so if someone gives you the evil eye, what then, you slink away and put on a bra? What is there to be ashamed of?” A waiter, not the waitress, approached with the food. “Dinner’s up.” She sat forward, lifted her tits and sat them on the table in front of her.
I had to sit back to make sure the poor guy had room to put down both plates, one a little closer to me. He looked only briefly at me. “Do you need anything else right now?” Val looked up and said no. He left.
“I think he liked the show,” I said.
We ate in silence, and Val kept her boobs on the table the whole time. Once or twice she looked a little blushed to me, but she kept at it. A different waiter passed the table and grabbed Val’s empty bottle. “Another?” She nodded.
Our waitress brought back another bottle and fresh diet coke for me. We finished our meal in relative silence with no other visits from the staff. Our waitress came by as we were finishing off our drinks. “Will there be anything else?”
“No,” I said, “just the check thanks.”
She reached in her pocket and withdrew our tab. She placed it on the table in front of me and said, “Thanks for coming in.”
I turned over the check, read the amount, and then chuckled to myself.
“What is it?” Val asked.
I showed her the check. Our server had written “Thanks, Dee” at the bottom of the check. But it was written funny. Val didn’t get it, she shrugged at me. “She underlined her name, flattened out the ‘e’s and then put dots in the bottom of the loops.” Still no understanding. I grinned widely, “The ‘e’s are your boobs on the table, with the dots for nipples.” Then Val did blush. I left cash on the table, with an extra good tip, and we got up and left the restaurant. I headed out the door and took a right, away from the nearest parking lot.
“Where are you going? Is there another store you need to hit?”
“No, I just parked over here.”
She curled her lower lip at me. “You are enjoying this aren’t you.”
“Isn’t that the idea?”
We walked through the mall toward the far entrance. Even though I couldn’t see her I knew her tits were swaying freely under the thin top. She clutched my hand firmly, maybe to let me feel some of her tension. I was loving it.
On the drive home I realized I had forgotten to ask her something. “So what was this epiphany you had?”
“I just realized our happiness was more important than what other people thought of my being braless. I’m still not sure I can wear exactly what you might have in mind, at least not when we are so close to where we live.”
“I’ll try to keep it within reason.” I reached over and squeezed her left breast. She pushed my hand away.
“Just because I’m braless more often doesn’t mean you get to grope them more.”
Well, I thought, not everything has changed. But I might be able to live with this arrangement a lot easier.
At home she waited for me to close the garage door and then asked, “What do you want to do right now?”
“I want to cover your tits in cum.”
She sat down in front of me and pulled the top over her head. She pulled her hair back from her face and said, “This is what I want you to think about every time we are out and I’m braless. And every time we get home, you’ll cum on my tits.” I dropped my shorts and underwear and she reached out to stroke my dick. She took me in her mouth briefly to get my dick wet, then stroked me slowly till I was fully hard—which took no time at all. She then held up both tits and said “Well, hose em down.” I took hold of my cock and continued her work. It took very little time before I felt that familiar tension building up.
“I’m gonna cum,” I said at the last minute. I looked down, found her watching my dick and not my face. As I reached to point of no return I pointed my dick toward her tits, rubbed the head into her meaty tits and started to cum. I alternated between breasts as I milked the cum out of my cock. Returning to earth after a pretty good orgasm, I asked her to rub my cum into her skin.
“What do you like about this?” she asked as she massaged my cum into her tits.
I really didn’t know, but I knew I liked it. I just started talking. “It’s kinky, seeing you do that is almost as good as cumming in your mouth, and I’ve always thought it’s kind of like, well, marking you as mine. In a nice sexual way.”
She had rubbed all of my cum into her big DD tits when she stood up and said, “You’re an odd boy, you know that?” I just nodded and gave her a stupid post orgasmic grin.
The next day we were supposed to go pick up some supplies at Home Depot to finish a minor project in the back yard. I could have gone in the morning before she go up, but I wanted to know if last night was a fluke or the beginning something more interesting.
After we ate an early lunch, I went into the closet and tossed her a big gray college t-shirt. She caught it and said, “I suppose you would like this with jeans, and tucked in?”
I shrugged. I had asked her to do this a number of times. T-shirts were about as non see-thru as you could get, but they do move with her breasts. And if her nipples are perky, they show nicely. Mind you, she is never aware that her nipples are showing unless I say something. And since no one else will ever say something, it kind of made me wonder what the reluctance was. It wasn’t the same as having your hair going in ten directions, or having a big ugly stain on your shirt. Truth of the matter is men love to see nipples and all other women have them, so what’s the big deal?
Repeating last nights motions, I grabbed a t-shirt, went downstairs, got my wallet and keys, and waited for her in the car. Again like last night, she came down dressed just like I had asked. Grey t-shirt tucked in to a pair of jeans. This time the college logo was obscuring the finer details of her breasts. They were, however, definitely moving. I started to get hard just watching them move in the short distance from the house to the car.
“You don’t have to stare you know.”
“If it’s partly for my benefit, why shouldn’t I? After all, I can’t watch you as we walk in the store.”
We parked at Home Depot a short time later and headed off to find a small plastic insert for our backyard umbrella. The store was busy, as it always was for a weekend morning, but it was not crowded. We wandered around for ten minutes or so before we realized we were not going to find this thing without help. Being the typical male, I suggested she ask for help. I know she didn’t know it, but her nipples looked huge just then.
“Why don’t you ask?” she said.
“I never ask. That’s nothing new,” I said.
I walked just a bit behind her as she approached one of the store personnel. Most of those working at Home Depot are not younger than thirty unless they are stocking things or working registers. Just my observation. I watched as Val talked to the man. He was probably a few years older than us, mid to late forties, with salt and pepper hair and a medium build. He asked her a few questions and then led her off into a different part of the store.
As he walked he occasionally looked over his shoulder and asked her some questions. He also told her what could be used instead if the part was not in stock. If he was ogling her swaying titties, I could not tell.
We arrived at the correct parts bin, only to find it empty.
“That’s okay,” she told him, “we’ll go get the other stuff you mentioned.”
He nodded. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yup, no problem.” He turned and walked away. Val turned to me. “Was he checking out my tits?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t give me that, you must have been watching him.”
“Well, if he was, he was at least trying to be subtle about it.” I grinned as I looked at her breasts.
I debated telling her that her nipples were really obvious. “Nothing. I’m just happy you’ve come to this decision.”
We got the plastic stuff and left the store. On the way home I had her drive, figuring she would want to stop at Jack in the Box for a soda. This would put those lovely tits of here closer to the guy at the window, although it was not nearly as good a show when she was sitting down. Actually, I doubted if he could even see anything.
At home she parked the car and I closed the garage door. Again she sat down in front of me. She looked down at her shirt before lifting it up. “Were my nipples this obvious at the store?” She took off the shirt as I unzipped my shorts.
“Oh yeah.” I dropped my shorts and underwear and she grabbed my cock.
“You know what I want now,” she said. Then she surprised me by taking me in her mouth again. She held me tightly as she closed her lips around the head of my cock. She moved her tongue back and forth on the underside several times before tightening her lips and moving back and forth, fucking my dick with her mouth.
I reached down to heft her tits. She let go of my dick and continued with just her mouth. This let me grab both of her tits. I’m pretty quiet during sex, but when she is giving me a blow job or hand job it seems appropriate to be overtly appreciative, so I moan a lot and say really meaningful things like, “Damn, baby, that feels great.” Which it did.
I squeezed and kneaded her tits with my hands. I just love her tits. Her tongue was really doing a number on me. She would stroke my cock with her lips three or four times, then stop half way and rub the underside with her tongue, as forcefully as she could, for another three or four strokes. It was blissful and I told her so. She pulled back so just my head was in her mouth and smiled the best she could. She took my hands off her tits and put them on her shoulders. She popped me out of her mouth with one final swath of her tongue, then grabbed me firmly with her right hand. She pumped my dick expertly, the way fifteen years of experience tells you to. “Cum on my tits honey.”
I was closer than she realized, and the shift in sensation was perfect to set me off. Holding on to her shoulders to balance myself, I watched as she stroked me to orgasm. She was jerking me quickly, and while I knew how to aim my cum shot (a little bit), she didn’t. I felt the cum pulse up through my cock and watched as the first spurt flew out, more forcefully than typical for me, and hit her on the chin. She quickly redirected my dick toward her tits, smiled, and kept stroking. Her quick fist work had the effect of really spraying my cum all over her chest. Having surfed smut all morning, but not cum, there was quite a bit of spunk on her tits when I finally finished. She gave my balls a gentle squeeze when it was clear I was done, then she stroked me one last time and used her thumb to wipe off the last drop of cum. Without my asking, she rubbed my cum into her skin until it disappeared.
She picked up her shirt, gave me a peck on the lips and said, “Let’s fix that table so we can sit under the umbrella and talk about our next car.” She pulled the shirt back on and went into the kitchen for something to drink. I pulled my shorts back up, got the package out of the back seat and thought to myself I was getting to be one lucky bastard.
(look for me at asstr.org)
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