Monica’s fingers trembled slightly as she took the silky blouse from Daniel’s hand, the fabric cool and slippery against her skin. She glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection showing the familiar curves she’d always hidden under loose sweaters and high-necked tops—those massive DD tits that strained against anything she wore, her wide hips and soft belly that spoke of a body built for comfort, not display. Black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her uncertain brown eyes.

“No panties? No bra?” she echoed, her voice a whisper, cheeks flushing hot. The idea sent a forbidden thrill twisting in her gut, mixing with the knot of anxiety. Daniel stepped closer, his hand sliding down her back to rest possessively on her ass, squeezing the full cheek through her robe.

“That’s the point, baby,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Feel free for once. Let your body breathe. I want to see those gorgeous tits bounce when you walk, your nipples poking through that silk like they’re begging to be sucked.”

She swallowed hard, her pussy clenching involuntarily at his words—words that painted pictures she’d never dared imagine. Slowly, she let the robe slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Naked now, her huge breasts hung heavy, the large round areolas already tightening in the cool air, nipples hardening into stiff peaks. Daniel’s eyes darkened with hunger as he watched, his cock visibly thickening in his pants.

Monica slipped the blouse on first, the thin material whispering over her skin. It draped low, the V-neck plunging between her tits, barely containing their weight. Without a bra, they jiggled with every breath, the silk rubbing teasingly against her sensitive nipples, making them ache. She tugged on the short skirt next—a flimsy thing that skimmed her thighs, ending high enough that bending over would flash her bare ass and the smooth lips of her pussy.

Turning to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest instinctively, but Daniel gently pulled them away. “Look at you,” he growled, stepping back to admire. His hand reached out, cupping one massive tit through the blouse, thumb circling the visible nipple until she gasped. “Fuck, Monica, you’re a walking wet dream. Every guy out there is gonna stare at these fat tits, imagining bending you over and fucking you raw. And you’ll love it—feeling their eyes on your hard nipples, knowing your pussy’s dripping without a stitch underneath.”

Her breath hitched, a rush of heat flooding between her legs. She could feel herself getting wet, the slickness coating her inner thighs as arousal built. Daniel’s fingers trailed down, slipping under the skirt to brush her bare mound. “Already soaked,” he chuckled, dipping one finger into her folds, stroking her clit until her knees buckled. “Good girl. Now let’s go out—let the world see what a slutty little wife I have.”

As they headed to the door, Monica’s heart pounded, her tits swaying freely with each step, nipples scraping the silk. The cool night air hit her skin as they stepped outside, and she wondered how long she could keep her composure before Daniel pushed her further—maybe making her flash a passerby, or pulling her into an alley to fuck her against the wall while strangers watched.

The rooftop bar pulsed with the low thrum of bass from hidden speakers, the city lights sprawling like a glittering sea far below. Monica’s bare pussy throbbed under the short skirt as she walked beside Daniel, the cool breeze teasing her slick folds with every step. She could feel the dampness between her thighs, her huge DD tits heaving against the silky blouse, nipples rigid and scraping the fabric like they ached for a mouth to suck them. The men’s stares burned into her—raw, hungry gazes that stripped her bare, making her clit pulse with need.

Daniel’s hand tightened on her elbow, his voice low and edged with something sharp. ‘Monica, talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?’ He scanned the crowd, spotting the group of four guys at the bar—tall, broad-shouldered types in fitted shirts, their eyes locked on her curves like predators sizing up prey. One of them licked his lips, whispering to his buddy, and Daniel’s cock twitched in his pants despite the twist of jealousy knotting his gut. He’d pushed her here, dressed her like a slut on display, but seeing her respond—her body language shifting from timid to teasing—stirred a dark heat he hadn’t anticipated.

She turned to him, brown eyes wide and glassy with arousal, black hair swaying as she bit her lower lip. ‘It’s ... them,’ she admitted, voice husky, barely above the murmur of the crowd. ‘They’re looking at me, Daniel At my tits, my ass. I can feel it everywhere.’ Her hand drifted unconsciously to her chest, fingers brushing the swell of one massive breast, making it jiggle slightly. The motion drew another glance from the men, and she didn’t look away this time. Instead, her gaze met one of theirs—a bold, blue-eyed stranger who grinned wolfishly—and a shiver ran through her, straight to her core. Her pussy clenched, leaking more wetness down her inner thighs.

Daniel’s breath caught, his dick hardening fully now, straining against his zipper as he watched her awaken. ‘Fuck, baby,’ he growled, pulling her closer, his free hand sliding down to grip her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh. ‘You like it, don’t you? Feeling like a hot piece of ass everyone wants to fuck.’ The words were meant to reclaim her, but they only fueled the fire in her eyes. She nodded, pressing her body against his side, her hard nipple poking into his arm through the thin silk.

As they reached the bar, the group didn’t avert their eyes. The blue-eyed one leaned in, voice carrying over the noise ‘Evening, folks. Couldn’t help but notice—your wife’s got the whole place staring.’ His gaze dropped blatantly to Monica’s cleavage, where the blouse gape just enough to hint at the deep valley between her tits. She flushed deeper, but instead of shrinking, she arched her back a fraction, thrusting her chest forward. The movement made her breasts strain the fabric, areolas faintly visible as dark shadows.

Daniel’s jealousy flared hot, his cock throbbing painfully as he imagined those strangers bending her over the bar, one shoving his dick into her mouth while another pounded her dripping pussy from behind. ‘She’s mine,’ he snapped, but his voice lacked conviction, laced instead with arousal. He pulled Monica flush against him, his hand slipping under her skirt in the shadows of the crowd, fingers finding her soaked slit. She gasped, thighs parting instinctively as he stroked her swollen clit, circling the hard nub until her knees weakened.

‘Oh God, Daniel,’ she whimpered, grinding against his hand, her huge tits bouncing with the subtle motion. The men watched, smirks widening, and she knew it—knew they could see her face contort in pleasure; hear the wet sounds of his fingers dipping into her cunt. The attention crashed over her like a wave, making her bolder. She reached down, palming Daniel’s bulge through his pants, squeezing his thick cock. ‘They’re imagining fucking me,’ she breathed, voice trembling with excitement. ‘All of them. And it’s making me so wet ... I want to cum right here.’

He groaned, jealousy warring with the urge to claim her publicly. Thrusting two fingers deep into her tight pussy, he pumped them hard, curling to hit that spot that made her moan. ‘You slutty little thing,’ he hissed, nipping her earlobe ‘My shy wife turning into a cock-tease. But if anyone touches you, I’ll break their fucking hands.’ Yet even as he said it, his hips bucked into her grip, pre-cum soaking his boxers. Monica’s body trembled, her climax building fast under his touch and the weight of those stares—her power blooming, raw and intoxicating, as she rode the edge of release in front of strangers who wanted nothing more than to bury their cocks in every hole she had.

The blue-eyed guy chuckled, raising his glass ‘Lucky man. Treat her right—or we might have to show her what she’s missing.’ Monica’s eyes locked on his, a spark of defiance and desire flashing as Daniel’s fingers fucked her harder, pushing her over. She came with a stifled cry, pussy spasming around him, juices dripping down his hand. For the first time, Daniel wondered if he’d created a monster—one that might crave more than just his control.

The air on the rooftop bar hung thick with the scent of spilled cocktails and summer sweat, the crowd a blur of bodies pressing close under the string lights. Monica stood there, her massive DD tits rising and falling with each quick breath, the silky blouse clinging to their heavy curves like a second skin. Her nipples poked out hard and insistent, begging for teeth to graze them, while her short skirt rode up just enough to tease the bare skin of her thighs. She could feel her pussy lips swollen and slick, the wetness trickling down to coat her inner thighs, every stare from the men hitting her like a tongue lapping at her clit.