Teaching Millie She's Hot Ch. 05byinvictus17©
It was a long couple of months till the magazines featuring Millie came out. We got them, both at once--the regular monthly, and the special edition devoted only to her--maybe a week before they hit the newsstands, by overnight mail direct from DeMarco's office at CURVY.
I tore the box open eagerly. It contained two copies of each, wrapped in those plastic bags that mask out everything but the title.
It wasn't hard to tell the difference; one said "CURVY" above the black square, with a very familiar pair of big blue eyes looking at me over it--and the other had "CURVY presents" in very small letters in the upper left corner, and "MILLIE" across the top in sea-blue letters two inches high. The cover price was $24.95, and it was at least twice as thick as the regular issue. You could just see the top of Millie's head above the black square on that one, a little crescent of red hair.
My hands were trembling as I tore the plastic off the regular issue first. Millie was watching me, of course, sitting crosslegged on the floor in front of the coffee table as I sat on the sofa behind it.
I looked at the cover of the monthly. My mouth fell open. There was my wife, on the cover of CURVY, my favorite plumper magazine--wearing nothing but an innocent smile.
The seamless background was white, not blue. She stood with her bare feet together and her pale, fat thighs pressed tightly against each other, crouching just enough to keep her pussy slit from showing. She was bending over slightly, and was holding her hands flat, in front of her huge, hanging breasts--and her hands were just big enough to barely conceal her huge nipples. The expression on her pretty round face was a teasing smile.
I stroked my cock through my pants involuntarily. Millie giggled. "It took 20 minutes to get that shot right," she said. "Open it!"
I did. The Table of Contents featured a quarter-page shot of Millie with a big 45 in the bottom corner, the page number where her feature could be found. The picture was--remarkable.
The top half of the shot showed Millie looking down between her enormous tits, her innocent, wide-eyed baby face framed between her pale globes and fully-inflated knobs, her nipple-tips standing up like sausages--and the bottom half was a closeup of Millie's hairless, flaring, glistening pussy, with the tips of her fingers holding it wide open. You could see her smoothly erect labia, her swollen, prominent clit, and maybe three inches into her red, liquid hole. Millie was stretching her cunt open right over the camera lens.
"Jesus," I whispered, and Millie gave me that sexy little giggle I love so much. I looked from her delighted face in front of me, to the picture of her blatantly aroused and wide-open hole with that same face in the background above it in the magazine, and then back to her real face again.
"I've never been this horny in my whole life," I said. She squealed with joy and clapped her hands like a child.
"Get your dick out and jack off to it!" she whispered eagerly. "I so want to see you do that!"
"Not yet, Big Tits," I said. My voice was a little shaky. I would have shot in that moment if I'd gotten it out then. And this was just the first picture.
"Turn to page 45!" she said, bouncing up and down a little. The upper slopes of her tits rippled liquidly, but the coffee table concealed the rest of her.
Did I mention that she was naked? She had planned this for when the magazines came.
I did turn to page 45, and I stared, transfixed. It was a full-page shot of Millie against a black background, which emphasized and exaggerated the milky-white perfection of her skin, all over. She was stark naked, covered with gleaming oil, and posing like a Balinese dancer: bare feet wide apart and flat on the floor, knees turned outward and bent till her pale, fat, glistening thighs were horizontal. Her plump pelvis was cocked forward to exhibit her white, hairless pussy mound. Her flaring pink pussy lips were prominently displayed, clearly swollen and fetchingly parted. Her plump, pretty hands were pressed flat together as if praying, directly over her head, with her chubby, curvy arms forming a frame for her sweet baby face. She was looking directly into the camera, with the hint of a smile on her rosebud lips. And then there were her tits.
In the picture, Millie's pale, gigantic, shining breasts seemed to flow from below her pale shoulders, flaring outward from her armpits till they were twice as wide as her body, her huge pink nipples pointing slightly down and outward. Her huge milkers hung to just above her waist--but were still pointed, full and preternaturally firm.
The caption, the title of the feature, was in green Irish Uncial type: "Irish Cream."
I was thinking that it was the most perfect naked picture I'd ever seen, absolutely suited to my taste--my favorite pose, made more perfect by the oil and her uplifted hands--when Millie said, "I wanted them to use that one on the first page. I knew you'd like it."
"Y-you helped them lay out the feature?"
She giggled. "It was the last thing I did before we left. They decided it would be fun to hear my suggestions, and they liked them so much they just let me plan the whole thing. They did the special issue, though. I don't know what's in that one."
My hard-on was already leaking pre-cum into my briefs. I felt it pumping more as Millie talked. I looked at her beautiful childlike face, her smooth white shoulders, and the foot or so of inviting cleavage between her huge pale tits that ended at the coffee table. Then I looked back at the incredibly erotic picture.
I wasn't going to make it to the end of this small feature without shooting in my pants. What was I going to do with Millie's special issue? I looked at her name above the square of black plastic and shivered.
Millie saw the heat and pressure on my face, and--of course--she came out with that wicked little giggle. "Jeffie," she said in a sweet, pleading, childish tone, "Close your eyes for a minute..."
"Wh--why?" I stammered. I felt like a lake of sperm, an ocean, was pressing against the base of my dick, and I was trying to hold back the whole weight of it with nothing but a couple of tiny, quivering muscles and a scrap of will power.
I had never been so close to shooting without touching my dick, or having it touched, in my life. And I was looking at picture of Millie #3. Out of... What? Hundreds?
"Just close your eyes, Jeffie... Trust me..."
Shivering, I closed my eyes. "Okay," I said. I heard her move.
A few seconds later, she trilled in a childish singsong, "You can open them now..."
Millie was standing in the middle of the room in that exact same pose, with that exact same smile--hands together over her head, bald pussy thrust forward, and huge tits hanging and flaring out wider than her body. She smiled at me and began to bump her fat hips and swing her huge milkers from side to side.
I shuddered and jerked and came in my pants for the first time in my life, and Millie smiled sweetly and bumped and dangled and jiggled and shimmied outrageously to keep me shooting. "You like my picture, Jeffie?" she cooed.
"Y-yuh," was the best I could do. I just kept spurting as she wiggled her fat ass and waggled her enormous tits, smiling at me innocently, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked and naked as a baby.
"Turn the page," she trilled. I did.
The next was a two-page spread, an enormous picture of her, still barefoot-naked and white as milk against the black seamless paper--
And she was squatting on her pretty toes, bare feet spaced wide apart, her plump crotch spread so wide her pink asshole was on display--And she was stretching her swollen pussy flaps with both pretty hands, her tits captured between her bare arms and squeezed together so they swelled outward. They were so big they hid her arms from mid-forearm to just below her shoulders. Her nipples were swelling, her fat faucets as long and rubbery as Vienna sausages.
Her face was suffused witn sexual hunger, her mouth lolling open and her eyes half-shut. A string of fluid hung from her open, aroused cunthole to the paper, and another dangled beside it.
I looked up--and Millie was holding that same pose, licking her lips lewdly as she looked at me over her tits. As I stared, she started working her cuntmuscles in my face, and a thick drool of her fucking juice oozed from her flexing hole and slowly dripped to the floor.
I shot again. Two loads in less than one minute. No hands. What was happening to me? This can't keep going.
"Turn," she said. I did. The next page didn't show her face, just a puff of red hair. It was Millie from behind, on her knees with her big pale ass in the air, fat thighs spread wide, bare feet posed prettily--and her lovely little hands pulling her fat white asscheeks apart to show off her gaping, glistening cunthole, obscenely red and swollen and, again, literally drooling liquid--
And her tits were spread out on the floor on either side of her, impossibly far, her fat nipples pointing in opposite directions.
I looked up, and there she was, spread-out tits and all. Her cunt was even redder than in the picture. "Oh, baby," I moaned. "Oh, my sweet baby..."
I didn't cum that time, but my cock was rapidly, impossibly stiffening again right after two involuntary orgasms.
The next shot was a killer. Millie was lying on her back on ocean-blue paper, her knees cocked up as high and wide as she could spread them, exhibiting her naked pussy and asshole as hard as she could. She was pulling her tits up by her nipples on either side of her sweetly innocent face--it was dwarfed by her huge tits--and looking at the camera from between them, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as if she had been unexpectedly surprised.
I hardly dared to look up--but when I did, there she was, duplicating that pose, smiling at me from between her huge pale tits. Damn.
It was maddening, so stimulating I couldn't bear it. The magazine showed Millie to stunning perfection, every detail and feature, every plump and bare square inch of her from her sweet face to her cute little toes, displayed to best advantage and to the most obscene and sexually charged effect, a sort of ultimate plumper-lover's wet-dream fantasy; and when I looked up, there she was, that same picture in the bare and perfect flesh. It was almost too much. It *was* too much.
I finally dropped my pants--and my sticky, cum-soaked briefs--so Millie could see the effect on my long-suffering dick.
After that, the effect was the same for both of us. I'd turn a page, gasp, and look up to see her doing it live--my cock would quake and drip fluid to the carpet, pre-cum running like a leaky faucet, and Millie's bald fat pussy would do the same. Or I would spurt, my sperm arcing through the air, as Mille shuddered and came in front of me without touching her pussy, holding whatever pose had made me shoot.
It made her cum to see me shoot. That was my wife. What more could a man want, than my incredible Millie?
More pictures. Millie sucking her pretty toes with her tits flopped out across her creamy upturned thighs, above her glistening pussy. Cradling her tits in both arms, and still they spilled over in huge-nippled abundance.
Stretching her cunt into a lewd pink funnel, showing off the depths of her liquidly gleaming fucking-hole--and looking innocently shocked, her mouth an "O" of surprise and her eyes wide. A closeup of her pretty, chubby little hand, with her middle finger out of sight--buried knuckle-deep in her shaved slit.
Another of her bending over, her huge tits hanging bare, nipples pink and tempting. Her huge pale ass, upturned and baby-bare, with her fat mound and swollen lips protruding between her cheeks--and her sweet smile, as innocent and open as a child's, looking back as if she did not know her juicy cunt was on display.
Millie sucking her own tits--a difficult task, not because she could not reach them, but because it was so far down the long upper slope of her breast to her oversized baby-bottle nipples.
The last page of the feature had us both creaming--me with pulses of warm cum oozing from my dickhead to run down my cock and drip from my balls to the carpet, and Millie biting her lip and fingering herself to the sight.
She did not attempt this pose. It was an ad for the special issue. Full page again, on a blue background: Millie, still barefoot and stark naked, posing prettily--lifting her tits in her hidden hands, with both curvy bare legs bent, one pretty foot up on a chair--
And the stump of her big blue knobbly dildo protruding from between the pink and swollen, wet and flaring lips of her fat, shaved cunt. No hands. It was devastating.
Even as I came, without a touch, I saw Millie biting her lip squint-eyed and rising toward her own blistering-hot orgasm.
"My God, Millie!" I scolded her. "You're posing stark naked for a million men, with a dildo up your fuckhole! Aren't you ashamed?"
She squealed and shivered and came for me, writhing naked on the floor.
We took a break for lunch before we looked at the special. Millie wrapped up in a plush terry robe; her enormous tits made it look like she was hiding a pillow underneath it. Her baby face was flushed and pink, her eyes bright. "This is the neatest thing I've ever done, Jeff," she said. "Thank you for letting me do it."
"Letting you?" I said. "I ordered you to do it, Big Tits. Don't forget that."
She shivered. "Ooo, that's right," she breathed. "I had to. You made me." She shivered again.
It was hardly really true, but it thrilled her anyway. "How do you want to look at this one?" she asked. We were seated on the couch, Millie still in her robe. The special issue, still in its modest plastic wrapper, lay on the coffee table in front of us.
"You want to see it too, right? I mean, at the same time I do."
"Sure." She giggled. "I wish you could fuck me while we look at it, though. Maybe we can feel each other."
"I have an idea," I said. "Wait a minute."
I went out to the garage, and finally found it: my old music stand, from when I played trombone as a kid. Well, I probably shouldn't say I played it, but I carried it around, anyway.
I set in in front of the sofa. "Now you sit on my lap and turn the pages," I said, "and I can fuck you and play with your tits."
"Ooo!" Her eyes twinkled. "That sounds like good fun!"
I placed the magazine on the stand, then dropped my pants--all I was wearing--kicked them off, and sat down on the cushion.
My cock was standing up stiff as a fencepost, which seems amazing after the number of times I shot that morning, but living with Millie gave me an advantage there. Sex with her was a frequent and strenuous workout. It had given me the ability to get hard and shoot a dozen times a day when I needed to. I could probably have done 40-pound curls with my prostate if I could have picked up a dumbbell with it.
Millie dropped her robe--as always, I was slightly stunned at the sight of her astonishing body and the knowledge that she was my fucking toy--and backed up to me. Her pretty little hands delicately pulled her big, pale asscheeks apart, and she carefully settled her liquid pussy lips over my swelling dickhead--then slowly sat.
"Ooo," we said together, as my cock slid all the way inside her slippery, fluttery tube.
"Yoga style," I said, and she nodded. We had done Tantric sex before, where we sat facing each other crosslegged, my cock deep in her cunt, and did not move for hours. The usual result was a mindbending five- or ten-minute orgasm for both of us, but I somehow doubted it would take that long this time.
She began to unwrap the magazine. "I hope they used some of my bondage shots," she said. My cock twitched at that, and she giggled. "You're not supposed to move," she said.
"They let you play in the ropes and chains?" I asked.
"Oh, yes! That was fun. I felt so helpless and exposed! And it was fun to pretend to be scared and stuff, too!" I shivered again.
She placed the magazine, unwrapped now, back on the stand--and we both gasped.
Her name was at the top in huge letters. There was little other type on the cover. To the left it said, "Hottest new model ever!" and "Our first special edition!" To the right it said, "Over 500 photos!" and "ALL TOTALLY NUDE!"
The cover shot was amazing. It showed my sweet, fat wife standing naked and barefoot on a bright blue background, trying to cover herself modestly with one hand at her pussy and her arm pressed across her breasts. Her tits swelled out both above and below her chubby forearm, but it managed to conceal her huge pink knobs by a millimeter. The expression on her round baby face was one of shocked, childlike surprise, as if she had been caught innocently naked by the photographer; her big blue eyes were wide, and her rosebud lips made a tiny "O" of embarrassment and violated modesty. The effect was stunningly erotic.
"Jesus," I said, and Millie squealed and giggled with delight. "I look like a scared little girl!" she said.
I looked at her huge tits in the picture. "Scared big girl, maybe," I said. She slapped my leg lightly and laughed. I felt my cock throbbing in her pussy. My cum was already rising, like a slow incoming tide.
We didn't know it then, but Millie's special issue #1 (as it turned out to be) would become a legend in the world of softcore porn. For big-tit and plumper lovers, it became almost a holy book; it went through a dozen printings and sold more than 150,000 copies, and still brings prices in the high three figures on the used market years later. A dog-eared, cum-stained copy will bring $100 or more, and a pristine new one closer to a thousand.
I still have three, unopened. Sorry, they're not for sale.
Millie opened the magazine, and I spurted deep inside her. She spasmed and came hard, her juicy-wet cuntmuscles milking my bursting cock like a fist.
No ads, as she had said. Inside the front cover was a two-page spread--appropriately so called--of my plump and naked Millie squatting, from behind, her bare feet wide apart, her skin milk-white against a seamless black background. Her whole chubby body was glistening with shiny oil, and her pale and hairless crotch was completely exposed; her wet pink pussy was gaping open and her tiny puckered asshole was on gleaming display--and her stunning, huge and long and heavy tits were glisteningly revealed from underneath, dangling so low her long, fat nipples were an inch above the floor with a thin stream of oil trickling from each one. She was looking back at the camera with a sweet, embarrassed smile. The copy just said, "Say hello to Millie...."
"Jesus God," I said, when I was done shooting. Millie was still shivering, which was doing nothing at all to soften my still steel-hard cock.
"I look good, don't I?" she said in a tiny voice. "Everybody thinks I look good..."
For the first time that day, I took her tits in my hands and caressed them. "You look way better than good, baby. You look fantastic."
She leaned back against me, lifting her chest to my hands. "Oh, Jeffie," she whispered. "I'm pretty..."
I fondled her 20 pounds of soft and warm breast-flesh and nuzzled her smooth cheek. After a moment, she turned the page.
The next page was a table of contents, and across from it was a full-page portrait of Millie's sweet, round face, wearing her incandescent, childlike smile and looking at the camera with huge and sparkling blue eyes. I cut it out and had it framed, and it hangs on my office wall as I write this.
The table of contents had me quivering again. I wondered how many times I would shoot in Millie's fat pussy before we got to the last page.
3. Millie in the studio