Henriette's Tits Pt. 01

CHAPTER 1

Henriette has big tits. Lovely big tits. I know women can't help it, short of surgery, and small tits are cute as well. I like all sorts of women. It's just that people are differently endowed, and I really like big tits.

She has a lovely face as well, with a wonderful smile, and I love her. She doesn't have an hourglass figure, although she did well for the wedding, and I love the photograph of us standing together, me in my suit, her in a white dress showing her curves and a lot of cleavage. She's put on a bit of weight since then, but I don't mind. Her tits are a bigger.

Altogether she's a wonderful woman. I am just so happy even when she walks into the room and gives me a smile.

Did I mention the tits?

It's a shame she married my brother Bill.

I was Best Man, of course, but I know I wasn't the best man. People are differently endowed. I have a small cock, my brother has a big one. Something to do with genetics, I suppose.

Somehow it gave me comfort to think of that massive dong filling her up. It's what a woman like that deserves.

And they love each other. I've seen them out together and been with them at home. He's better for her. He also gets a lot more money than me.

They're faithful to each other. I wouldn't have dreamt of coming between them.

But I did dream of coming between her tits.

It's not just the tits. She is a nice person. I like her a lot, and she likes me in a sisterly way: quite proper. Obviously it's not love, it's infatuation. But if I were to design my ideal woman it would be her.

CHAPTER 2

There was temptation and opportunity. He gets a lot of money because he works offshore on the oil rigs, so is away for weeks at a time. I am supposed to look after her when he is away, which I do.

At least I get to spend time in her company. I get to greet her with a kiss and feel those lovely big tits against me for a moment.

It was late at night when she called me in panic. There was water coming through the ceiling. Of course, I went around straight away, both because she is my brother's wife and because I'm a plumber.

She was not at her best: hair awry and no makeup in a dressing gown, wringing her hands and crying. But I was here to deal with a problem. The first thing was to shut off the stopcock, and I was relieved to see the water slowing down as I made my way up into the loft. I shut off another valve, and went back for some bits from my van, telling her what the problem was. She was so relieved, she hugged and kissed me, and I felt those big beautiful boobs against me. My own cock was not in stop mode, so I hurried up the ladder to do the job, which took some time. I also brought some sodden things down from the loft.

Panic over, she had actually fallen asleep on the sofa. Her dressing gown had come open and I could see some great tits through a thin nightdress.

I couldn't help but admire them. I didn't do anything, just look, but maybe somehow she must have sensed it.

"Oh," she said, "I must have dropped off. Sorry..."

Then she realised the situation and pulled her dressing gown around her.

"Sorry," she said in a different tone of embarrassment. "I hope I didn't..."

She stopped as she saw the stiffness in my trousers and looked a little frightened.

It was my turn to apologise.

"Don't worry," I said, rather nervously, "I wasn't going to touch you. Honestly, you're quite safe. I just..." But I didn't know what to say, so we just looked at each other.

Finally she made a decision.

"OK, I trust you. I know you men can't help such things. Do you want to go and er... you know, relieve yourself, in the bathroom, while I make some coffee?"

I slunk off to the bathroom, embarrassed and ashamed. I thought I wouldn't be able to do it. But then the memory of those gorgeous mounds bursting through the lace of her nightdress and moving slowly with each breath: well, that persuaded me.

I came back equally embarrassed but a bit satisfied.

She had put on a tracksuit and a bit of makeup and was frying some bacon and eggs.

"I thought it's late or early enough for breakfast, and I'm so grateful for what you've done," she said.

"And I suppose for what you didn't do!" she added with a smile.

"I suppose it's a bit of a compliment seeing me all fat and ugly like that, but we'll forget about it shall we?"

"Yes," I said "to forgetting it, but no to being fat and ugly. You're one of the most beautiful women I know."

"Go on!" was the reply. "No makeup? And Bill's always going on at me to lose some weight. I know my boobs are too big, but I can't really help it, that's how I am."

This was heresy! I shouldn't have said what I did, but I couldn't not say it.

"You've got a pretty face with or without your makeup, and I love your boobs! They're perfect! If I was Bill, I would tell you how much I love them every day! And I like your figure just as it is!"

"Oh," she said, then very quietly, "thank you."

We did not really follow up, but something had changed.

CHAPTER 3

When Bill was next away on the rig, she phoned me.

"Would you like to come over for dinner? There was a two for one offer, and it would be nice to have company."

I went.

To find her in a nice dress which showed what was for me a wonderful generous figure. Best of all it was low-cut with those mountains of pleasure on generous display. Maybe I should have left, but I didn't, and was glad.

I didn't just like her tits. I really liked her as a person. If this had been a date, I would have been well pleased. But it wasn't a date, just dinner with a sister-in-law. However, under the circumstances I felt I could admire her fairly openly.

It was a nice meal. The conversation was good, but the view was spectacular.

"It's a lovely dress," I remarked, "and you look really beautiful in it."

"Not too revealing?"

"Not at all. The revealing is very good."

We ate and talked about other things.

Finally she said "You know I like you, but we can't have sex."

"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't do that to Bill. But I'd still be glad of your company."

I thought it was time to leave.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," I said, standing up. I didn't try to hide the bulge in my trousers. A compliment, she had said.

"Perhaps I could use the bathroom?"

"Of course."

I went, feeling not at all guilty or ashamed, and had a good wank thinking about those tits.

She invited me again.

This time there was no cleavage, but she clearly had no bra under a T-shirt. We kissed and hugged in greeting, so I felt them pressed against me. I appreciated the animated show as she served and moved around. She kept getting up from the table to get things and those tits wobbled and roamed beneath her T-shirt as if longing for release.

I had to excuse myself before the dessert.

"Wait a minute," she said, then seemed to be hesitating.

She lifted her T-shirt and there they were, the forbidden fruits, proudly on display.

Not the high ones created by a bra or hard implants. Just the natural hanging bags of a real woman, with large brown areolas and small but erect nipples. Living, breathing tits! Big ones.

"Just looking," she whispered hoarsely. "Nothing more."

"You have beautiful tits," I said. "I mean it. They are magnificent! I wish I could put my face on them."

She pulled her T-shirt down. Her face was flushed as she said "Go to the bathroom."

I tossed myself off triumphantly and shot further than I expected, so had to clean up a bit. What a great evening!

"Don't say anything," she said when I came back, and we ate dessert in silence.

At the end I said "Very nice lemon meringue."

"Yes," she said. "It's from Waitrose. Bill doesn't like it but I do, so it's nice to have an excuse."

Then we had coffee.

"How do you feel?" she asked me suddenly.

"Great!" I said. "Like I've had a wonderful evening with a beautiful woman that I like a lot. With great tits."

"How about you?" I added.

"It's funny," she mused. "I thought I would feel guilty, but I don't. After all, we never actually did anything. You just saw something natural and you liked seeing it. I felt good that you liked me and hoped you had a nice wank. Did you?"

"Yes, very nice. And I really appreciate what you did. It was very kind of you."

She laughed.

"I was doing it for me! I've thought my breasts were too big and then you told me they were beautiful and I believed you. When I showed you, I knew you were being honest and it was a real thrill."

"And thinking of you wanking because you saw some great tits was wonderful."

We thanked each other some more before I went home.

The life of a self-employed plumber does not make it easy to arrange a social calendar. Jobs that go on much longer than you expect. Emergency call-outs. Fallow periods, then too much work.

So it was a while before I was able to spend close personal time with the lovely Henriette.

This time, she did not mess about.

"Bill's coming back tomorrow. You can have a feel, if you like, but nothing more."

She took off her top and I worshipped those magnificent globes.

I simply held them for a while, lost in wonder at the weight, the roundness, the softness in my hands, even better than I had imagined. Of their own accord, my hands were moving, feeling and squeezing a little in a gentle loving way. She had her eyes closed as I kissed her mouth.

Her nipples came between my fingers and I closed them slightly which made her sigh a little. There was no hurry as I moved around and took them between thumb and forefinger, pinching and squeezing just a little. Under, over, all around, and there was plenty to enjoy.

Inevitably my face came between them. I brought them a little together with my hands and was enveloped in that female warmth and softness. I nuzzled and first my nose and then my lips came to an areola then a nipple was held between my lips. Then pressing in I kissed and sucked as she said "Oh yes!" very quietly. I moved between them to be fair to both.

Groping, nuzzling, kissing, sucking, I was in heaven.

"Enough!" she said, and I slightly reluctantly withdrew. She was red-faced and clearly turned on.

"You'd better go to the bathroom," she gasped.

As I turned to go, she looked at my groin.

"What the hell? I'll do it!"

I dropped my jeans and underpants, which were slightly wet.

"Oh," she said, and I knew she was comparing me with my brother, but it didn't seem to matter.

Down on her knees she began to wank me with my own lubricant and a bit of saliva.

It didn't take long, and I was getting ready to come. I was about to ask her when she just put my cock between her tits and pressed them together. I made a few thrusts then shot a big load between, on and over the source of my joy.

She shook her head.

"I didn't mean to go this far," she sighed. "Just to let you have a feel."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be, because I'm not."

She got off her knees and looked down with amusement at her well-spermed tits. Idly she spread it around.

"Never had that before."

We went and cleaned up and she microwaved some pizzas.

"This was just a one-off," she cautioned. "I won't say forget it ever happened, because it will be rather nice to remember. But I don't want an affair, and my vagina is sacrosanct. That means never. I love Bill and I won't be really unfaithful to him. I might let you have a view of my tits now and again. That's as naughty as I'm going to be."

"It's been a wonderful experience," I said. "Bill is lucky to have you, and I hope he appreciates your breasts like he should."

"I preferred it when you said tits," she said with a smile. "And I hope you find a girl with lovely big ones to be appreciated, because it's a really nice feeling."

Next day, Bill came back from the rig.

CHAPTER 4

So that was it. While Bill was away on an oil rig, I had at last enjoyed his wife's tits in every way. I had seen them, felt them, sucked them and finally fucked them. And not just any tits. Rolls Royce luxury tits: large and beautiful.

It was an experience rather than an affair, but one I would remember all my life. I would be more careful in future for both their sakes. An occasional peek would be nice, and that would be enough.

Bill came to see me, saying he had something serious to discuss.

"Henriette told me what happened while I was away. Between you and her."

"Well," I began. I was about say "let me explain" before I thought better of it. Do not admit guilt until you have heard the charge.

"How do you mean?"

"When she had the flood. How she kissed you, you saw her undressed, and you had dinner together."

"I just wanted to say thank you, Ben. She said you behaved like a perfect gentleman, but also a good friend, which is what I want to talk to you about."

He frowned.

"I won't tell her, and you don't either, but there was an emergency on the rig this time. It was all sorted out, but we had to get into the lifeboats for a few hours, and it got me thinking."

"If anything happens to me, you will take care of her, won't you? She's very fond of you. If she did end up marrying again, I couldn't wish for anyone better."

"Of course," I said, thinking with a bit of a shock how I had envied him. He got very good money, but the work was hard and could be really dangerous. As well as leaving someone you loved behind for long periods and thinking you might never see them again.

"I'm going to get out of it soon for a shore job."

He stopped, rubbed his chin, and looked worried.

"The thing is I've accepted a new contract on the arse-end of nowhere where you can't just fly out every few weeks like you can with the North Sea. It's going to mean a couple of longer stretches away, but if I can stick it for a couple of years we'll be really made."

"What do you think?" he asked me.

"Flobbadob," I said.

"Flobbadob?" he answered.

"Flobbadob bloblob," I insisted.

"Lobl lobl doblob!" he answered, and we fell about laughing.

It was our special secret. Years ago, when we were young and foolish, we used to go behind a shed to smoke some weed. One day it must have been some strong stuff because we got incoherent, and in trying to say flowerpot it had come out flobbadob. It was our special joke. No-one else in the world knew. Now we were mature and foolish it still amused us. Whenever things got too serious or one of us felt down, then to talk like this broke the spell.

"Yeah," he said, and gave me a friendly punch. "You're right there!"

CHAPTER 5

I could honestly say that Henriette never had sex with anyone else while Bill was away. Her pussy remained untouched by any man's cock, mouth or hand. (Though I hoped it got a lot of her own hand and certainly thought about her doing it often enough.) No semen entered her in any way.

We only kissed on the lips (no tongues) briefly as befitting close friends or relatives.

However, it felt to me like I was having sex.

My cock certainly enjoyed what I was doing with it, and expressed its appreciation at least three times a week. (I had a job to do, and money to earn, so not all evenings were free.)

From my point of view there was this great bundle of femaleness to adore and enjoy.

From her point of view, she was getting a great deal of honest appreciation from a man, who loved to see and feel her body.

I didn't love her the way Bill did. But perhaps I loved her the way Bill should have.

Apparently his way there were quick compliments and wham bam thank you darling. But he did not bask in the wonder of her body and worship it with his hands and mouth. The bloody fool!

Did I mention her tits?

It would have been a privilege simply to enjoy them with my hands and face. But beautiful Henriette did not stop there.

Her tits made my cock stand up and she appreciated that. She showed this by giving the little fellow a massage with her hand, and let him nestle between them until he erupted with joy, throwing his juice over them. Both the tits and the cock appreciated some oil.

But if there is something I appreciate nearly as much as tits it is the female arse. I notice arses all the time. You can usually see the shape better than tits in normal clothes. Nice to follow, seeing the movement. Nice to see in pictures with just a thong so the majesty of the female bum is proudly on display. Best of all in the actual flesh.

So my hands of course soon roamed to her bum.

It was a while before I could persuade her, but eventually I got my face there. I don't mean rimming her hole, just rubbing my face around and between as I did with her tits. She was pretty amazed, but soon pleased, and it became part of our mutual enjoyment.

Like her tits, this was not the toned and sculpted bum of some professional model but the natural full roundness of a proper woman. The Earth Mother that the ancients had worshipped: the real thing, large and soft and delectable.

With some persuasion my cock was allowed a massage between those splendid cheeks like between her tits, erupting on her lower back. I could not expect nor ask for more.

I don't want to give the impression that this all happened at once, or were at it all the time. I had kitchens to fix, toilets to unblock, suppliers to visit, customers to argue with, and emergency calls when I thought I was getting an evening off. So my times worshipping the goddess were limited, and we progressed over the months. I also did as my brother had requested. I took her out for a meal once a week and behaved like a perfect gentleman, leaving her with brotherly kiss on the doorstep. We also chatted: before or after, and when she didn't feel like being got at, which I guessed was a period, but might have been something else like an upset tummy. A gentleman does not ask.