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Before I start, I think I should give a brief description of my wife, Julie. She’s 26, stands a slim 5’3″ 105lbs with flaming long red hair (a true redhead I might add), blue eyes, and a set of pouting red-lips made for cock sucking. She also has a nice firm pair of 38Bs that are just asking to be sucked and squeezed. Her bottom half is even better, measuring at a lovely 36 inches with a pussy that is meticulously trimmed to expose her soft and tender cunt lips. Julie also enjoys giving head and getting fucked doggy-style. My wife can be quite submissive at times too. One of my fantasies is to watch my wife serve more than one man at once. The following is what happened a couple of weeks ago.

That Friday, my friends, Mark and Alex invite us out for dinner. On a lark (and being the devil that I am), I had my wife wear a black mini-skirt with a dark red top and sexy three inch black pumps. She also wore a matching set of black lace panties and bra with sheer black stockings underneath. With her expertly applied makeup and beautifully done hair she looked like a wet dream.

Mark and Alex met us the restaurant, and were pleasantly surprised at Julie’s attire. All thru dinner, my wife flirted openly with them. I guess she felt pretty secure, since I’ve known the guys for years, and it was all in fun. After we ate, we decided to all go back to our house to do a little partying. When we got back to our house I rounded up a few drinks and took out some smoke that I’d save for a special occasion while my wife and the guys chatted. I joined them in the living room with the drinks and smoke and we were soon feeling no pain. I was seated on couch next to my wife, and Alex was sitting on the her right. Mark was in the love seat with his feet kick up on our coffee table and toking on the second joint. My wife snuggled up to me as the effects of the pot had started on her because reefer had always made her sleepy and horny, and not always in that order. After a few more passes of the joint, Julie closed her eyes and by the smile on her face she was enjoying the effects of the weed.

I guess the drinks and smoke had the same effect on the guys, because Alex began to stare intently at my wife’s curled up stocking clad legs and round ass. I looked at him and gave him a wink and softly stroked Julie’s ass thru the material of her mini. I then gently hiked up her skirt to give him a better view of the wife’s sheer panties. All this time my wife had her head on my lap with her eyes closed. I guess she had passed out from the booze and smoke, since we rarely smoked up. I whispered to the guys that I had a plan if they were game. Alex gave me a nod and Mark just gave me a devilish smile. I told the guys to wait in the living room while I ‘prepare’ the wife for bed.
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My wife and I have been married for five years and have enjoyed a long monogamous relationship. I never claimed to be real experienced at sex prior to our marriage and my wife went to the altar a virgin. However, we learned quickly and developed a very satisfying sex life. In fact, both of us like to have sex almost every day. If we can’t for some reason, we both get kind of cranky and obsessed until our urges are satisfied.

This has made us very compatible over the years. Tracy is a petite brunette with an ass that turns heads (mine, at least). At 5′ 1″ and 102 lbs. she has oversized breasts that capture one’s attention. I thank heaven that she picked me to be her life-partner.

About six months ago I received a call from an old “buddy” saying he was going to be in town for a couple of weeks and would like to get together with me and my wife. Steve and I had been really close before he stole my girlfriend from me our senior year. We had not talked since graduation. He went off to college and became an architect while I got a job at the mill. The only reason I eventually forgave him is because I figured he did me a favor. The girl I had been dating turned out to be a total slut. She hadn’t put out for me, but had developed quite a reputation after Steve had finished dating her. A short time later I met Tracy and my life has been wonderful ever since. Anyway, Steve offered to buy Tracy and me dinner at a nice restaurant while he was in town. During dinner, Steve mentioned he would be staying at a hotel out of town because a convention had booked all the local rooms. Well, Tracy would have none of that and kindly offered the use of our extra bedroom for the duration of his stay.

Steve quickly accepted. We hardly saw Steve the first couple of days he stayed because of his work schedule. However, Thursday evening Tracy accidentally walked in on Steve while he was getting out of the shower. She ran back into our bedroom gasping with a look of shock on her face. I asked her what happened and she explained that she had seen Steve naked. I told her it was no big deal. She said that it was indeed a big deal, an eight inch big deal and he was not even hard. I laughed and didn’t think much more of the incident until later that night. My wife and I were getting sexy and she was slowly stroking my 4 inches when she mentioned the size of Steve’s cock. She wondered how big it was hard. I told her that I would ask. She giggled and said it was no big deal. We both had a good laugh and some great sex.

The next day I thought “what the heck” and told Steve about the incident. He laughed and said that for Tracy’s information he was 16″ long when hard.

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“He’s obsessed with boobs,” complained Maria, a new recruit to Mistress Jennifer’s cadre of dominant feminizers of hapless men. “My husband Bob just stares at any woman with a full figure–the fuller the better.”

It was easy to see why this disturbed her. Maria, though extremely attractive, was a petite, small-boned woman who was far from buxom. I was privy to this conversation, along with Teasing Tammy, because Jennifer, Maria, and Tammy’s sister and dominatrix, Susan, intended to use us to bring the unsuspecting Bob into a trap–a trap that would deprive him of his manliness forever, it seemed.

Tammy, though only 16, had been designed by Susan and Jennifer as the ultimate cock-tease, with full 35 C breasts. Although my own alternate persona, Sissy Dani, was generally less generously endowed, for this adventure I was also padded out to Playmate-like dimensions.

We were sent out to meet Bob at one of his favorite hangouts, a bar that specialized in attracting men who “appreciated” bosomy types. I was dressed for “bear”–a skin-tight white satin cocktail dress that played up my bogus breasts with a very short skirt, five-inch white satin heels, and dramatic make-up. Tammy had also been dressed to look older: She wore a black leather outfit, also extremely tight and short, with six-inch heels and equally dramatic make-up.

Our instructions (enforced by the post-hypnotic suggestions that created our submissive personalities) were to approach Bob, get him to buy us drinks, and then get him back to Jennifer’s house for his own transformation.

Within minutes after we arrived, I spotted Bob at the bar. “Well, hello there,” I cooed as I approached him, playing up my charms as much as I could.

“Hello yourself, little lady,” Bob replied, smiling. He looked me up and down, pausing noticeably (as expected) at my bust line. “And who’s this little heartbreaker?” he asked, as Tammy sidled up to his other side.

“That’s my sister, Tammy,” I replied. “I’m Dani.”

He put his arms around our waists, in the process letting his hands graze our “boobs.” I suggested he buy us a round of drinks. He made the order, and I told him and Tammy to find a quiet table and I would bring the drinks when they were ready. Bob readily agreed, seeing a chance, I suppose, to make a little time with the enticing Tammy while alone.

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The evening was not going well and Cheryl knew it. Only fifteen, she had almost passed out when a college junior had asked her here. Telling her mother and father that she was going to a girlfriend’s house for the night, she met her date, Billy, at a convenience store near her home. Just getting in the car made her feel much older than her years.

Now, several hours later, sitting on a couch in a crowded fraternity house, she was feeling like fifteen again. A bunch of guys had made a big fuss over her when she first arrived but quickly turned their attentions to girls who were much older than she. While she had danced a couple dances, even her own date seemed to have abandoned her. She hadn’t seen him in over 45 minutes. And, after the several drinks she had been given and the joints she had been offered, she was feeling a bit high and drowsy. At this point, all she wanted to do was head for home.

As the party droned on, Cheryl found it harder and harder to concentrate on what was going on. All of the conversations seemed to merge into one and the music seemed to enter into a slow motion mode. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch, quickly falling asleep.

She woke with a start to find that the blaring music had been quieted down and that the crowd had thinned considerably. Soft music was gently playing in the background and the bright lights had been dimmed to mild shadows. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that a couple had joined her on the couch. Glancing to her left, she saw the two locked in a deep kiss. Cheryl saw that the girl’s hand was on the guys crotch and was slowly rubbing it.

Looking away, Cheryl felt flushed and hoped that the couple hadn’t noticed her staring. Across the room, she saw a girl laying on the floor between two guys. The girls sweater had been pushed up and one of the guys was playing with and sucking on her bare breasts. The other guy lay kissing the girl with his hand resting between her legs.

In fact, everywhere she looked, there were people making out. From the hallway she heard the sound of a girl moaning softly and, though dark, she could make out an outline of a couple making love.

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Sarah dressed as the doctor left the room. She couldn’t believe it! That bikini shoot in Malaysia had given her a rare tropical disease. At first she was afraid she would die from it, but the doctor said it was easily curable, but when he told her the cure and it’s side effects, she wished she could die. The cure was simple enough. A small incision into her neck and remove the infected portion of her pituitary gland and she would be almost as good as new. The ‘almost’ part was the killer. With part of the gland missing, her metabolism would slow down and she would gain weight — A LOT of weight. This wouldn’t do for a model. Actually, she was now a former model since the medication had already put 13 pounds on her. She rubbed the soft belly that had once rippled with muscle. The surgery was tomorrow. Soon this barely noticeable tummy would balloon into a basketball of pure flab. A tear slid down her cheek.

Sarah came to a groggy consciousness after the surgery. She could feel the bandage on her neck. Oh no! as groggy as she was, just moments after major surgery, she was hungry! RAVENOUSLY HUNGRY! Sarah stayed in the hospital for only 2 days. As expected her metabolic rate was slowing rapidly. She found she was sleeping more, but also she had this delightful feeling of peace, and inner calmness she hadn’t known since she was 13 and had begun her career as a model. She went home concerned, but oddly hopeful of her future. She was glad to be off the medication but she had still put on 5 more pounds in the 2 days since the surgery. Her clothes were tight; too tight. On the way home she stopped in a mall to get some new things. Sarah was shocked. The only things that fit were size 8! She had been a petite 6 only a month before! Even more surprising was the fact her bra was now too small. She needed a 36B. The off the rack clothes and the added fullness in her hips, chest and face totally changed her look. She was still pretty, of course, even beautiful, but that ‘something special,’ call it glamour, that makes a top model was gone. In an instant, she knew what she had to do. She went to a beauty shop and had her hair re-styled and returned to its natural color. The effect was astonishing. Gone was Sarah Lane, model. In her place was Ann DeMarco, her real name.

It felt good to be Ann again. Her last stop was the supermarket. She filled her kitchen with all of the sights and smells of an Italian kitchen, that she had known and loved since she was a child. She prepared Veal Picante with pasta she made herself. The meal was a transitional experience for her. She had no financial worries, she had only had this lose of power that came with leaving modeling, but she would find a new way — a new life that would be more fulfilling than the old one. She looked around. This was a big house and she was determined to fill it with love and children.

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