Boob Man

I don't know how long it was that I simply stared at her with my mouth agape before she said "I judge from your expression that you're intrigued by what you're seeing."

"Hell yes," I mumbled, then looked her in the eye and loudly said "Hell Yes! I'm not just intrigued, I'm in love!"

"That's really funny," she said, seemingly blushing even more. "Almost my entire life I've been self-conscious, and I got teased by many people, mostly girls during gym class in school, but also including my husband and a couple of guys I dated. I've never worn a bikini - only a one-piece bathing suit - because I'm really embarrassed by my supernumery nipple. Of course I also never go topless because my tits are so different from each other I'm sure I'd gross people out."

I stared her in the eye. "Lizbeth, I'm a PhD in female anatomy. I'm here to tell you that you have the most spectacular chest in the world. You should be extremely proud, not self-conscious. I'm really sorry that I don't have one of my female PR people with me though."

"Why?" she asked.

Now I blushed. "I...I'd have her...uh...touch you."

Without missing a beat supposedly self-conscious Lizbeth said "I don't mind if you do; you're the first person ever to have a positive reaction to my chest."

I slowly approached her. I lightly touched both breasts and their nipples, and then I more aggressively touched the supernumery nipple. I was shocked when it quickly became hard and Lizbeth emitted a small groan. I knew that I was probably pitching a tent in my pants but soldiered on. "Is your supernumery nipple really sensitive?"

Lizbeth let out a long sigh. "Believe it or not, no one before has ever stimulated it like you just did. I almost had an orgasm."

Somehow that statement threw a switch in my brain. I stimulated the supernumery nipple again, this time more vigorously, and when Lizbeth moaned and closed her eyes I sucked it. She yelped, and then fell down on the bed, moaning. "Do...do...don't do that," she mumbled as her eyes flittered."

Once her eyes stayed open I asked "Did you really just have an orgasm?"

"Yes," she snapped, and then she grabbed her top and put it back on. She didn't look pleased.

"I'm really sorry..." I said. "I'd really, really like to include you in the book and I'll pay top dollar for it; $250. If you can come for a photoshoot at a commercial studio tomorrow, I'll arrange it."

Her attitude seemed to change. "OK, for $300 plus transportation, and the $50 for today, you have a deal."

I gave her the papers that she would have to sign and bring back tomorrow, I gave her the $50 and parking, and I got her cellphone number. "I'll call as soon as I arrange a studio," I smiled.

She smiled back. "You honestly do like my chest, don't you," she said with a seemingly perplexed tone.

"I'm not exaggerating when I say that I'm in love with it! If you weren't married I'd pursue you so relentlessly that you'd probably have to take a protective order out against me," I chuckled.

"Maybe I'll work on that," she chortled, then exited my room.

I immediately had to go beat my meat, resulting in the most intense masturbation session of my life. When I recovered for that I got on the phone and started calling the photo studios that my L A client had recommended.

-αβγδ-

I had arranged to meet Lizbeth and a female photographer at 10:30 a. m. at a photo studio near my hotel. I got there early and was pleased by the professionalism of Mary, the photographer. Lizbeth got there five minutes late, and she didn't look good. She looked like she had been crying.

"What's wrong Lizbeth?" I asked with real concern in my voice.

"Uh...I'm OK. I'll need new copies of the releases to sign, however," she replied.

"Why?"

She started to cry. "My husband tore up the other ones," she sobbed.

I knew then that we would have to wait for the photoshoot. Mary was very understanding and said that she could catch up on some paperwork and review of images for her most recent job while I comforted Lizbeth. Mary led us to a conference room and brought us coffee. After Lizbeth calmed down a little I held her hands and said "Tell me about it."

"My husband has always had a low opinion of how my chest looks. On a number of occasions he said he loves me in spite of it. He looks on me as a mutant," she got out before sobbing some more.

After another recovery she continued. "When I told him about what you said and showed him the release he said 'They just want you for freak-show effect. No one could possibly think that your fucking strange tits are desirable,' and then he ripped up the releases."

After a third sob and recovery I wiped her tears away with a tissue. She looked me straight in the eye and said "Do you really want to photograph me for freak-show effect?"

I smiled. "What I told you yesterday is true. I absolutely LOVE your chest; it is the most spectacular one I've ever seen. If I was your husband I'd worship it. Please don't let his comments dissuade you."

Lizbeth could sense my sincerity. She finally smiled, wiped off her remaining tears herself, and said "Give me a few more minutes and then I'll walk into the studio."

I smiled back and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

I went to see Mary and the two of us set up the lighting and background for the photos. Lizbeth walked in about ten minutes later, removed her top - no bra - and put her top on a chair. I gave her some alcohol wipes to clean off her chest so that her skin was glowing, and then Mary positioned her for the frontal shot.

It was really hard to suppress my hard-on.

Mary took photos for about twenty minutes - longer than most of my other photoshoots - and they came out great. Lizbeth (still topless), Mary and I reviewed the photos together. There were only three or four that we deleted; I would choose the best ones of the four different positions for the photobook. I thanked and paid Mary - who had emailed all of the photos that weren't deleted to my business address - and Lizbeth and I walked out. Outside I gave her $300 in cash and cab fare and invited her to lunch - which she accepted.

At lunch we had a good talk, first about our backgrounds and careers (she is a technical translator proficient in German and Russian), then our interests, then about her husband (she was moving further away from him emotionally for some time but his reaction to her photoshoot may have pushed her over the edge), and finally about bras.

"Both times we've met you haven't had a bra on. Was that just to make it easier to get ready for the inspection of photoshoot?" I asked.

"No," she blushed; "I...I don't really normally wear a bra because it's uncomfortable if I pad the right cup so that my breasts look the same in conventional tops and I normally wear loose-fitting tops so that one looking at me can't tell my boobs are of different sizes."

"Aren't there times, like when you're exercising at least, when a bra would be better?" I inquired.

"Sure - in fact when I exercise I do wear a sports bra and just pad the right cup; I can put up with it for a couple of hours, but no more," she replied, somewhat chagrinned.

"If you trust me to measure you I promise to get you two custom normal bras and one custom sport bra using the algorithm I developed; in fact I can have the customer I visited here in L. A. make them for you," I smiled.

She wanted to decline, and then wanted to pay for them, but eventually she agreed when I said "The honor and stimulation of measuring you would be payment enough."

"Bullshitter," she mumbled, although her eyes told me that she believed me.

We went back to my hotel room, she removed her top again, and I got out my anthropometric measuring tools. I took my time. By the sly smile on her face I could tell that she noticed both that I was taking my time and that I had a hard-on. When I finished she quipped "I'm surprised that you didn't try to suck my supernumery nipple again - or are you bored with it?"

I took that as a challenge. She laughed when I pushed her back on my bed and perfunctorily tried to push me away while unenthusiastically saying "Stop it you animal" several times. She stopped saying that and no longer pretended that she wanted to push me away when my lips closed on her supernumery nipple. After her first orgasm I massaged her tits while continuing to suck her supernumery nipple which resulted in a very quick second orgasm and then a third. When I moved one hand to her crotch she then did seriously push me away. She sat up, flushed from her three climaxes.

I backed away and said "Sorry - I was overcome with lust."

"Yeah, I noticed," she bantered. "You really do love my chest, don't you," she rhetorically asked, "the only person in history."

She put her top back on, gave me the address where I was to send her bras, and then started to leave. When she got to the door I approached her, turned her to face me, and said "If you dump your husband will you give me first crack for a relationship?"

She got a wide smile on her face. "Yes, I will," she cackled, then gave me a quick kiss on the lips and exited.

It was time for another beat-my-meat session, this one even more rewarding than the last as my mauling of Lizbeth's tits sprinted back-and-forth through my brain.

-αβγδ-

Over the next six months Lizbeth and I communicated by phone, text, or email roughly every other day, and had a Skype call once a month. Although she pretended that she was reluctant, during the Skype calls I talked her into going topless. She was extremely pleased with her three new bras and asked for the contact information for my L. A. client so that she could buy more. She also got more flirtatious as time went on.

During this time my "Boob Book" published both in print and digitally, and it had a level of success that surprised the printer - though not me. We had to have the second printing only one month after the first one it was so popular.

Lizbeth was very happy with the text that accompanied the photos of her chest. The text - which of course I authored - praised her chest in every way imaginable. She was really pleased with her autographed copy.

I really surprised myself when I turned Joy's offer of a titty fuck down when in person I gave her the autographed copy that I had promised. I didn't do it because I had guilt about fucking a married woman - although I would have had some guilt if I took her up on her offer. Rather, I did it because by then I was unabashedly in love with Lizbeth - not just her chest - and I lusted after her, and only her.

Finally, six months, four days, two hours, and eighteen minutes (not that I was keeping track) since I last saw her in person in a Skype talk with Lizbeth she asked "Are you going to be in your Chicago area apartment the weekend after this?"

"I wasn't planning on it, but it's easy to do because the consulting project I'm working on can be done either from New York or Chicago. Why do you ask?" I replied, hoping that the reason for her asking was to meet me in person.

"Well, my divorce will be final in two months," I didn't even know that she had filed for divorce, "and since I can do most of my work anywhere I was thinking about looking for a place in the Chicago area since my sister lives there, and I thought that maybe you could show me around." As she was articulating the last sentence she removed her top and custom bra.

"Uh...I can...uh...be sure...whew...to be there," I stammered in reply as she started to squeeze her tits while licking her lips. Those were the last words of the conversation that I clearly recall - I do recall ejaculating all over the place, though.

When Elizabeth arrived eight days after I embarrassed myself by ejaculating during our last Skype talk her passionate greeting kiss made it was clear that she had the same expectations that I had. I drove her to my apartment as we pretended that maybe she could stay there - my second bedroom - while she looked for a place of her own. Our "pretend" disappeared as soon as she walked into my apartment.

I hadn't even brought up all of her luggage before she discarded her top and custom bra and was removing lower body garments as she walked toward my bedroom like she had been there many times before. In order not to waste time I started discarding my own garments as I followed her like I was a lost puppy. By the time I got to my bed she was naked and laying on it spread-eagled playing with her own tits and with the most intense fuck-me look I could imagine.

Even though I got the feeling that she would be just as happy if I immediately buried my hog in her pussy - as long as I massaged her tits too - I needed to do things right since I was anxious for an at least long-term - if not permanent - relationship. I abused her kitty while taking turns pinching and stimulating all three nipples until she had a massive orgasm. The instant that she stopped squirming from her climax I shinned up her body and buried myself in one stroke.

As we both undulated our pelvises while staring into each other's eyes the most serene feeling of my life swept over me. Just before I was about to climax I rubbed her protruding third nipple. She let out a banshee scream and I unloaded with such force that I thought that I might drive her through the mattress. As she squeezed my cock with her pc muscles I had an orgasm so intense that I questioned whether I would go blind or lame.

Once we both regained cognizance we lay side-by-side staring into each other's souls. "What would you say if I said I'm moving into your apartment next week?" she inquired.

"I'd say why wait so long. I need as much time as I can get sucking and manipulating your spectacular boobs and nipples," I replied, while pinching her puffy and supernumery nipples.

"Will you come with me Monday to close out my affairs in L. A.?"

"If I get access to your tits and pussy at night I'll do anything you want during the day," I chuckled.

After a three-day weekend of not only the best sex of my life, but the most loving sex, I flew with her to L. A. to close out her affairs. She didn't really want much from her old condo except for a few works of art, which we had shipped to Chicago. We avoided her husband the two days we were there, packed up her clothing and jewelry, closed her bank and brokerage accounts, and were on our way back to Chicago two days later.

I turned my apartment's second bedroom into an office for Lizbeth, and it was surprising how quickly we fell into domestic tranquility during the day - maybe necessary in view of the hot emotionally and physically draining sex during the night. Our zealous sex didn't seem to taper off primarily because I worshipped her tits and she loved to play with my cock and testicles.

After we had been living together six months, and her divorce had been final for four months, when I came home one night she had a glum expression on her face.

"What's the matter Aphrodite?" I inquired.

"I have something to tell you; I hope that you won't be angry with me; I don't know what I'll do if you are," she replied, breaking up more with each word until she burst out sobbing once she got "you are" out.

I comforted her, and to lighten the mood with mock seriousness I said "I'm sure that anything you tell me is something that I'll get by - unless you had your supernumery nipple removed - you didn't do that, did you?"

It had the desired effect. "I go from a man who couldn't stand my chest to one who thinks it's perfect," she groused as she playfully punched me in the arm. Then she took a deep breath, stared into my eyes, and replied "I found out today that birth control isn't perfect - I'm pregnant."

I smiled, then got a fake frown on my face and said "Shit, now I guess I have to ask you to marry me," and with that I pulled out of my pocket the diamond and emerald engagement ring that I had been carrying around the last month and got down on one knee. "Lizbeth, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?"

-αβγδ-

I'll bet you can guess Lizbeth's response to my question when I tell you that she worked my sex equipment so intensely that night that I could barely walk for two days. Surprisingly by the time she was a few weeks into her second trimester her boobs were almost indistinguishable in size - both DDs. I never got enough of them and was jealous when our little baby girl claimed first dibs on them after she was born.

I sold my place in NYC, we bought a house in Lake Forest (a Chicago suburb) in a good school district for our two kids, and Lizbeth's tits eventually returned to being asymmetric.

Often when sucking on Lizbeth's supernumery nipple while simultaneously playing with both of her boobs I wonder "Who would have thought that producing a boob book could make me happier than I ever thought I could be."