Breast dream turned into a nightmare!

Midweek Sport - - NEWS -

Dear An­nie, I’M a big-boob man – not a man with big boobs, you un­der­stand (though they’re big­ger than they should be), just that I love women with them.

Huge ones, ac­tu­ally. Whop­pers, dou­ble-hand­fuls, mas­sive, heav­ing, wob­bling, suc­cu­lent ex­am­ples of prime wom­an­hood...sorry, I’m get­ting car­ried away here!

So I sup­pose it’s plain bad luck that I’ve ended up with a wife with a flat chest.

Well, not bad luck, if I’m hon­est – I was des­per­ate for reg­u­lar sex so I mar­ried the first woman who’d have me.

But though I’ve had my needs down­stairs met, by and large, I’ve never been fully sat­is­fied since I’ve long had this need to play with a huge pair.

Burst­ing

So when I went to an old school re­union the other week my dream at last came true – though it led to a nightmare.

Bear in mind that we were all in our early 40s and most of us were start­ing to look mid­dle aged and frumpy.

But this one woman, who no­body seemed to re­mem­ber, at­tracted a lot of at­ten­tion.

She had a short, tight red dress, her hair big and long, high heels, black stock­ings... and the big­gest breasts I ever saw burst­ing up and out like two huge pil­lows!

I got a lob-on straight away, made ex­cuses to the pals I was talk­ing to and made a bee­line for this ab­so­lutely fan­tas­tic pair.

We chat­ted, though I strug­gled to make eye con­tact, her boobs were so stun­ning. Even­tu­ally, I told her I was knocked out by her form, and to my joy she in­vited me back to hers to see them close up.

An hour later I was spent, hav­ing sucked, licked and pawed her lovely orbs and had them squeezed round my mem­ber till I had the most pow­er­ful cli­max I’d ever had in my life.

We car­ried on till dawn, with me vent­ing all my pent-up lust and her writhing un­der and on top of me – it was the most joy­ous and filthy night I’d ever spent.

We parted to­tally ex­hausted and I went home with a weak lie to the mis­sus about how I’d got drunk and slept in the car.

But the plea­sure that I’d got my big-boob fan­tasy out of my sys­tem turned to to­tal an­guish when she turned up on my doorstep, telling my wife she was my girl­friend.

To say there was a “scene” would be to un­der­state the case by the power of about a thou­sand.

The woman cleared off in tears and anger, and I’m now liv­ing in the shed and fac­ing an ex­pen­sive di­vorce and a fu­ture with no sex. How do I put things right?

MR, Hal­i­fax

An­niel says:

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