Ididn't feel the same excitement, but as long as she wasn't turnedoff by being married to a man with tits I couldn't complain. Infact the reverse was...the case, so I had no reason whatever to complain. She loved my breasts the way I loved hers.Within two years they'd become B cups, plump and jutting. When I woreform-fitting or form-displaying blouses and dresses my bras at lasthad something to shape and display. She loved them when we madeour Friday night girl on girl love, our breasts mashed. She pulled down the location menu and switched the sound to the master suite. That was clear enough. Before showing her the way, I grabbed a couple of cold bottles of Pelagrino.The master suite in my home is a bit of a misnomer. It takes up one wing of the house. Before you get to the bedroom, you pass the small gym, which drew her attention. Turning in, she said, "You owe me a massage." That worked for me.The first thing she did was untie a ribbon and shook her hair out. I could smell the. More

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