A Tale Pf Two...Titties

by

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, Tear Jerker, Cheating, Body Modification, Big Breasts, Violent, Workplace, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Two Giant boobs ruined my marriage

Hi Folks. Here I am with another tale of romance, betrayal, and woe with a few Mustangs and a bit of hope sprinkled om for good measure. I'm joined as usual by the incomparable Mikothebaby on the figurative red pen, crossing out my many grammatical and punctuation errors and giving you a story that is more easily read. The weird thing about it is that when she does a great job no one mentions her. But if we (usually me) miss one thing, it's a federal case. While you guys and you ladies too are reading this please consider the plight of the editors here. The only payment they get for their efforts come in the way of the very sporadic praise that readers sometimes give them. So this week let's all say something nice not only for my wonderful editor, but for all of the editors here and the moderaotors who make sure that the stories you read are within the website's guidelines and moral code. If they weren't here and doing a great job, you probably wouldn't be reading this. SS06


It seemed to be a slow night as I wiped down the bar for the fortieth of what would probably be four hundred or more times during the evening. There were probably only eight or nine women in the whole place when he walked in. He sat down at the bar with his head turned away but there was something familiar about him.

Every woman in the place turned to look at him when he walked in. We just don't get very many men in here. This bar caters mostly to a very select clientele. Most of our customers are women and the majority of them are lesbians.

I get hit on a lot here. That's probably why I stay. Everyone needs to feel that they're attractive to someone every once in a while at least. The problem is that the only ones hitting on me are gay women. I am decidedly hetero sexual. I have no interest in women at all. I'm not even bi-curious let alone bi. All of the women who hit on me are always telling me that I won't know whether I like it or not unless I try it.

When I explain to them that I was born with an innate love for the feeling of a dick pushing its way inside of any one of my openings, they look at me like I'm crazy. When I tell them that I love sucking one and that I definitely swallow, they walk away faster. When I yell to them that I don't even mind when a guy puts his dick in my ass, they run away screaming.

The problem is that though all of those statements are correct, none of that has happened for a very long time. My pussy is so dry it's dusty. It's been so long since something was shoved inside it that I'm as tight as a virgin again.

The problem is that I just don't appeal to men. My face is okay. I'm reasonably pretty. I'm not as pretty as I once was I guess. But tragedy has a way of marking you. It's especially bad when the tragedy is something that you're directly responsible for yourself. I guess my face, though it isn't scarred or deformed, just carries that sadness in its expressions.

My body, on the other hand, is the source of all of my problems. At twenty nine years old I have the curves of a ten year old boy. My ass is as flat as a plate of water. My legs have returned to their boney state too. And I'm a charter member of the itty bitty titty committee. My boobs have simply never grown. I have no hips either. When I was growing up, I couldn't hula hoop to save my ass. There simply wasn't enough curvature to keep the hoop up.

After a couple of minutes I see the guy raise his hand and wave at a couple of girls at a table in the back. They get up giggling and come over to the bar to get him. I wonder what the fuck is going on with that. I've seen those women in here a few times. Shit, we've had to practically hose them off a couple of times when they got worked up.

They just don't seem like the type to go both ways. I have seen some lesbian couples that occasionally bring a man in for variety. And lots of couples bring in a man to get one of them pregnant if they want a child and can't afford any of the typical medical methods.

But those two just didn't seem like the type to bring in a man for anything. The taller one of them linked her arm through his and hugged him. She seemed to be a little tipsy already. The shorter, chunkier one of the pair seemed to be a little more standoffish but she linked her arm through his open one and completed their lesbo/hetero sandwich. They dragged him off to their table as I continued to watch out of sheer curiosity.

He seemed to be a pretty decent looking guy although I hadn't seen his face directly yet. He seemed to be a little nervous about being where he was. Perhaps it was the fact that most of the women in the place were staring at him. Some of them did it on the sly, while others just glared at him openly.

If he'd been expecting the welcome wagon, then he was definitely in the wrong place. Then I saw one of the girls wave her arm. It was too early for any of the waitresses to be on duty, so out of pure curiosity, I went over to their table. Normally I'd have simply waited until one of them came up to the bar to order their drinks but I was dying to find out exactly what the fuck was going on here.

Did this guy even know that he had a less than zero chance of scoring with one of those two? Maybe he was related to one of them. Maybe he was doing that whole, "I love you and will accept your lifestyle to keep you in my life," thing. Either way, I was as I said, dying to find out. Besides it was a slow night and I needed to do something to A) take my mind off of my problems and B) stimulate my brain to keep me from falling asleep.

I sauntered over to their table, as much as a woman with almost no ass can saunter. Then he turned around and those soft brown eyes bore into mine even as he started to speak. Suddenly it was as if I was falling down a long dark tunnel with no hope of saving myself or escaping. The past two years melted away as if they were nothing and all of the pain came rushing back as if no time had passed. All of those months spent in therapy had been wasted. It was like I'd been wounded and didn't get stitched up. I had simply placed a band aid over the top of my gaping wound and it had developed the thinnest possible scab over the wound. Seeing him was like ripping that band aid off and pulling the scab off completely. The gaping, still bleeding hole was exposed all over again and hurt just as much. I don't remember hearing what he actually ordered, but I knew what to bring him anyway.

He recognized me at the same time and his discomfort at being in the lesbian bar tripled. His face never moved except for the tiniest downward tilt in the corners of his mouth. His eyes also barely changed except for a slightly harder expression. The casual observer probably would have missed those tiny changes but to me they as obvious as the fact that he simply didn't belong here.

I turned and walked back to the bar, so flustered by seeing him that I forgot to even ask if the two women wanted anything. As I busied myself looking in the bar's cavernous refrigerator for his beer of choice, my heart started to flutter. I prayed for my sanity at first, because I realized then that none of it mattered. The years of therapy, the long periods of loneliness, none of it mattered. It was as if seeing him after all of this time gave me the chance to rectify the mistakes of the past and make my life the way it should have been.

It was as if I'd been exiled from existence for the past two years and now after serving my time in purgatory, I was being "Recalled to life."

Fate was giving me another chance, I thought as I picked up the coldest bottle of Dos Equis Amber I could find. This was no act of random chance. The forces of the universe had all aligned to give me another chance. Out of all the gin joints in all the world, he had to walk into mine.

As I looked across the slowly filling room, I knew that this might be my only opportunity to talk to him. Fortune favors the bold so I decided to go for it. After all what did I have to lose?

I went back to his table, beer in hand and as I handed it to him I whispered to him. "Rick, you're wasting your time. You're not going to get any pussy from either of these women. They're lesbians, but I on the other hand will willingly give you anything you want."

I went back to my post at the bar before he could answer. I felt his eyes stab their way into my back as I promenaded back to the bar. I wondered what would happen next. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him, watching me. And as I did this, I thought back on the events of the past that had brought us here.

I'd grown up in a small town, a happy and normal girl, until puberty hit that is. It seemed to hit everyone else around me, but for some reason it just glanced off of me. While all of the other girls were developing rounded hips and breasts, I just continued to shoot straight up like a fucking bean pole.

Even in terms of height though, I was short-changed. I topped out at five foot five. That was an average height for women of my day. All through high school, while others experimented, I just continued to do the things I always did. I had no interest in drugs or sex. The drug thing was probably due to the fact that my parents had instilled in me at a very early age the knowledge that drugs were bad. As far as the sex thing goes; I simply had no interest. In fact, at the age of sixteen, I was still more interested in collecting Barbie dolls than boys.

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