After the success of my stories about my first wife I started to write about my second. As soon as I did I found I had a problem, although very beautiful and with a great figure my second wife wasn't very sexy at all. True we had great sex in the bedroom but that doesn't mean that she was sexy. So with this startling piece of information I started to thing about what is sexy and what's not.
Well let's start in a good place; my first wife was sex on legs and she would make a good benchmark. But she wasn't always like that, when I first met her she was a very shy 17 year old, true she had a superb set of tits under a pretty face, but that in it self didn't make her sexy. Ok so what changed her from being extra shy to a very sexy girl? I don't think it was a sudden thing but happened over a long period and probably down to me.
I can remember a few watersheds moments in our early relationship, obviously losing her cherry to me was one important moment but there were others. I can recall a time in bed, now I think it was before the 'haircut' incident and probably in her own bedroom. We were both naked and I was slowly thrusting between her legs. Old readers will remember that during sex we liked to talk dirty to each other and that started very early on in our relationship. She had spent the morning cutting up an old denim waistcoat and turning it to a sun top. On my instructions she had cut so much material off that it had turn out a little too daring for her but she looked really great in it when she modelled it for me. The dialog below is obviously not true, word for word but offers an insight into how things went.
"It looks great on you," I commented, "the guys are going to love you in it."
"Please no, I couldn't wear it out, people will see," she moaned.
"That's the whole point," I said, "you've got great tits and it's waste if no one ever see them."
"No I couldn't," she said.
"What's the problem?" I said stopping in mid thrust and grabbing both her tits in my hands.
She was silent for a long time and I could see that there was a big problem here.
"Surely you're not embarrassed about your tits?" I asked.
She didn't say anything but nodded, her eyes closed so that she didn't have to look me in the eye.
"But that's stupid," I said, "Your tits are the best I've ever seen let alone touch."
"But you don't understand," she said and small tear trickled down her cheek.
"So tell me," I offered.
You'll think me stupid," she said.
"Probably," I chuckled, trying to take the seriousness out of the situation.
She just lay there for a long time while I gently kneaded her size 'D's.
"Look it's just when they arrived they just grew and grew and all the boys tried to look down my top or even tried touch them," she wailed.
"So I'll be surprised if they didn't," I said.
"No, please, it's not nice to be herded into a corner and have your chest prodded and squeezed until it hurts," she sniffled.
"But that was then," I said, "things are different now."
"How different?" she asked wiping her tears away.
"Well do you like it when I squeeze your tits?" I asked.
"Yes of course I do," she smiled for the first time, "you're different."
"Well what about me doing what I'm doing now," I said recommencing my thrusts into her."
"Mmm, you know I just love that too," she said.
"So what's the difference if some other guys gives your tits a squeeze," I said "or wants to do to you what I'm doing now."
"But that's different," she said, "they're not you."
"But it would all feel the same," I said carrying on thrusting into her, "you could close your eyes and you couldn't tell the difference."
"I think I understand what you're getting at," she giggled, "what's the worse they can do to me other than what you're doing right now."
"Yeah, something like that," I said.
She beamed up at me and wiped away the last of her tears.
.... There is more of this story ...