Hootie Queen

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Big breast lover meets big-breasted love of his life.
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Boobs. Tits. Jugs. Mams. Stan's mind was always on the same subject. When he was younger he had noticed that certain pretty women on TV made him "tingly" and others did not. It didn't take him long to figure out that seeing that cleavage, or those twin mounds packed into a sweater was what set him off. The town swimming pool and the beach were his favorite places. But he could be anywhere and his "breast radar" would go off. He could spot a low-cut top from a mile away and position himself to get the best view without being too obvious. Waitresses, secretaries, his mom's friends, it didn't matter. Young or old, fat or skinny, it didn't matter to him. Any glimpse of breast flesh was exciting. The fact that women went so out far out of their way to expose and yet cover up those prizes drove him crazy.

Oh, he was a connoisseur of the finer points as well. He could tell if a woman was wearing a sheer bra or a more structured one. He could spot padding instantly. He even thought he could tell surgically enhanced breasts from natural ones. He liked looking at smaller ones, but he loved looking at bigger ones. Once he was old enough, he graduated from TV and movies to the internet and magazines. He had bought and hidden copies of Gent, Juggs and Bounce until his mom found them. Then he stuck to the web. He knew the names of all of his favorite "hootie queens". Christy Canyon, Candy Samples, Chessie Moore, Lotta Topp were as familiar to him as his classmates. They were the old-school big-boob stars. And Gianna Michaels, Brandy Talore, Wifey, Kelly Madison and Hitomi Tanaka were the newer ones. At 32, he was a dyed-in-the-wool "breast man".

When he got old enough to date, he went for the girls who were the most top-heavy. Often this did not work out. And although the one he eventually married was quite busty, that wasn't enough to build a lasting marriage on. So, Stan had been single for years and just dated the occasional gal. He had found that nice girls were better company than some of the ones whose breasts entered a room before they did. But still he yearned for that "hootie queen" to call his own.

Udders. Sweater Meat. Lung Lumps. Milk Cans. Erin had heard them all. She was a happily divorced mother of two grown kids. They had finally gone out on their own leaving mom to pursue her real estate sales career and try to warm up her tepid social life. At 48, she was still holding it together pretty well. She was not skinny by any means but she kept in shape with walking and the occasional group fitness class. Of course these classes presented a bit of a problem as Erin had a huge bust line. From behind she looked like a curvy, some would say voluptuous lady, with a nice shape, but once those boobs came into view, that was all you could see. Erin wore a 36DDD bra. She had three of them custom-made because she couldn't find one in a store that fit right. Erin had to "strap them down" for almost any physical activity.

Over the years her bust line had been a blessing and a curse. It did attract the some of the men she wanted, but it seemed to attract all of the ones she didn't. She had experienced the jealous cattiness of other women, the drunken pawing of total strangers and the derisive nicknames. Her boobs seemed to turn some nice guys into sex fiends. They seemed to assume that being built that way must automatically make her a nympho or a slut. And everyone assumed that her intelligence was inversely proportional to her boob size. There were times she considered having them reduced for all these reasons. But she never did because Erin liked her boobs. She loved having big boobs. They were heavy, but she was active enough that they didn't bother her back. She always wore a proper bra so gravity hadn't taken an awful toll on them. And she did enjoy getting "that look" from some men. It gave her a feeling of power and a sense of attractiveness. And that made her feel good.

Erin's husband had loved touching them in every way. He could be gentle or rough and she showed him just what she liked. He learned how to give her so much pleasure through those beauties. Erin could easily reach orgasm through breast stimulation alone. And what a feeling that was! Yes, they had had a wonderful sex life. Sadly, the rest of life wasn't so good together and they split. Erin had devoted herself to raising the kids and now was back to trying to find male companionship.

It was a bright fall morning that brought Stan and Erin to the supermarket at the same time. Fate had it that they parked right next to each other. Stan, of course, noticed the super-stacked lady get out of her car beside him. And Erin, of course, noticed the younger man ogling her, however discretely he intended to do so. When they passed each other in the coffee aisle, they smiled at each other. It was with a chuckle that they passed again in the cereal aisle. And they both laughed as they passed in the pasta aisle. They had each chosen to go up and down each aisle, but they had chosen opposite directions!

"We have to stop meeting like this," Stan said, making Erin chuckle.

"See you in front of the bread," Erin replied with a smirk.

One aisle over, they met again.

"Haven't I seen you before?" Stan offered.

"Never seen you before in my life," Erin snapped back, laughing again.

By the time they crossed paths in the produce section, they were giggling like kids. Stan waved to Erin and she waved back.

"This is too funny," Stan told her. "I feel like we are old friends. I'm Stan," he said offering his hand.

"Erin. Yes, we've met more times than some couples do." She took his hand and shook it.

"Well, since we have such a long-standing relationship, how about I get you some coffee?" Stan offered.

Erin so wanted to say yes, but she looked at the frozen food in her cart and said, "I'm going to have to straight home after I check out."

Stan's smile drooped a little until he heard Erin say, "How about dinner?"

"Great idea. I can see what you'll be making," he said gesturing to her cart. "And I'll bring the dessert," he added, pointing to the frozen pie in his cart.

"Great." Erin gave Stan her address. It was not that far from where he lived. He wondered how he had not seen this gal with the killer body before. But he promised himself he was going to be a friend first and a "boob guy" second this time around. Still, he kept glancing down at the obviously huge rack on this lovely lady. Erin pretended not to notice. This was the first nice guy she had bumped into in a long time.

They met and had a wonderful dinner of roast pork and potatoes. For dessert there was blueberry pie. They found that they each liked sports and several of the same TV shows. After dessert Stan stayed to watch one of the CSI shows before standing to leave. He had tried to not stare at Erin's huge bust throughout the evening, with only limited success. Erin had seen Stan staring a couple of times and tried to ignore it. They both wanted to give this new friendship a chance, but both were straining to keep things from turning sexual. Stan gave Erin a peck on the cheek and left before they could have the awkward conversation they each knew was coming. They agreed to dinner at Stan's the next night with Erin bringing a cake for dessert.

Stan's baked chicken was a success the next night. They were really so compatible they each felt that they were falling for the other. They talked about their marriages and how they had not worked out and the sadness of the divorces. They shared some long looks into each other's eyes. They sat close together as they watched a sit-com. There was a moment when Stan wanted to turn to kiss her. Erin was hoping Stan would lean closer, but she found herself offering cake instead. In cutting the two pieces, Erin brushed against the frosted cake with her left boob. Unnoticed, a smear of yellow frosting clung to her dark sweater. Stan saw this at once. Should he say anything? He was reluctant, but he plunged in.

"Is that for me?" he asked pointing at her chest.

Erin froze for a moment, then followed his gaze and saw the frosting. "If you want it," she laughed lightly. She also knew where this might lead. Once Pandora's Box was opened...

Stan was fighting his natural urge to reach out and touch that magnificent breast. Heck, she was offering it to him. As much as he wanted to dive into Erin's endless cleavage, he resisted. She was so nice. It was so great to have this sweet lady as a friend. He didn't want to throw that away for a few minutes of lust.

Stan began slowly, "Erin, you are a beautiful woman. I really, really like you. You are kind and sweet and you treat meet the way I have always wanted to be treated. We are friends and I think we could be more than friends."

Erin could hear the 'but' coming. She felt exactly the same way, but Stan's hesitation told her something was probably wrong. She felt sad that this young friendship wouldn't get to grow and frustrated because her repressed lust was boiling in her loins and chest.

"Erin, I have a confession to make. I am what they call a "tit man"." Stan could hardly look at her. "As much as I like you, would like you no matter what you looked like, and you are gorgeous, I noticed your chest the first time I saw you. There is an animal inside me that wants to not only taste that smear of frosting on your sweater, but to pull that sweater and bra off and devour your breasts. It's an obsession with me. And it's never led to the kind of lasting relationship I think we could have. I'm sorry."

Erin's heart was pounding. That was it? His hesitation was from not wanting to enjoy her tits? She thought he was going to confess to a murder or something. But she was touched that he was reluctant to act like an animal as so many guys had with her.

She began, "Stan, thank you for telling me that. I really like you too. And I am really attracted to you too. I have seen you stealing looks at my chest." Stan seemed to slump down. "But I don't mind. I like that." Stan looked her in her deep, brown eyes. "I have had big boobs for a long time. Yes, there is a lot of unwanted attention, but I actually enjoy most of it. Maybe I'm strange, but I love having a big bust. And I love that men are attracted to me because of it. I am glad you are a 'tit man'. Sometimes I think there is something wrong with me for focusing so much on my breasts. But this is the way I was made and I am not ashamed. I love myself and I love having big breasts. I love touching them myself and having a man I want touching them."

Erin took Stan's hand and raised one finger and rubbed it against her left breast to scoop up the cake frosting. She held the finger to Stan's lips and he licked of the sweet stuff.

Erin continued, "I think we both want the same thing. And it won't hurt our friendship. I think it will bring us closer. And I know it will bring me a lot of pleasure. And from what you say, it will bring you a lot too."

Erin checked that the curtains were closed. She looked down and lifted the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head. Her shoulder-length, chestnut hair was tousled. She shook her head. She reached behind her back and undid the clasp. With a shrug, it fell away.

Stan tried not to gasp. He had never seen such big, perfect breasts before, except in his dreams. They were huge, round globes that hung to her navel. Yet they didn't droop, they stood out. The purplish-red aureole were puckered circles the size of fifty-cent pieces and the nipples were thick and long and appeared to be as hard as his cock was quickly becoming. He slowly raised his hands to gently cup the twin masses.

That first touch was electric. Erin's eyes closed and she felt his warm, strong hands caress and lift her treasures. Her breathing became rough and she felt herself getting wet. A purr escaped her lips. All she could say was, "Yes."

Stan leaned down to rub his cheek against the vast expanse of soft flesh. He held and rubbed and tried to take in every aspect of the offered prizes. He inhaled Erin's sweet perfume. He brushed his lips across each breast's warm expanse. He moved slightly lower and let each stiff nipple part his lips. He looked up and saw Erin in a rapturous state that matched his own. He opened his lips and gently lifted one massive mammary to his mouth. He sucked as gently as he could as first. He wanted to feel every texture, to taste her essence, to receive all of the beauty without impacting it with his actions. Then he felt the wave overcome him. He pushed the breast into his face and sucked harder on the large nipple, pulling it into his mouth, stretching the aureole against his lips. It was such an intense sensual sensation, he almost lost his balance.

Erin was approaching an orgasm before she knew what was happening. She felt Stan's rising passion and the increase in the strength of his touch and surrendered to it, her knees buckling. When his mouth moved to her other breast and he sucked on it deeply while kneading the first, she shuddered and moaned. Her whole body felt warm and electric. She quaked and let out little grunts of pleasure. She felt the wetness between her legs spreading.

Stan was holding her up as he feasted on her enormous tits. He buried his face in the valley between the mountainous masses. The warmth and the softness were dreamlike. His hands massaged her fleshy boobs around his face. He kissed and licked and sucked at the offered flesh. He felt Erin's shuddering, not knowing she had just come.

"Let's go to the bedroom," Erin whispered.

They almost ran to the bedroom down the hall. Stan quickly stripped and turned to see a vision arrayed before him on the large bed. The comforter and sheets were pulled back and Erin lay on her back, her dark hair seemed to form a halo around her head. A perfect triangle of matching chestnut hair was nestled where her legs met. Stan's eight-inch cock was fully erect and ready for action. But his real lust was not for penetration, but to return to and consume those massive mounds.

"Those tits are so fucking amazing," he heard himself say. Then he froze. How would she feel about such vulgar words?

"Come and gobble up my big titties, Stan. I want to feel your face between my jugs now." Erin said in a deep lusty growl.

Stan was relieved and practically jumped on her. Erin embraced his body with her long, toned legs. She ground her crotch against his chest. Stan's hands kneaded and molded Erin's warm tits around his face. He bit and nipped at the endless, meaty orbs.

"So big. Such huge fucking jugs, I have only dreamed of fucking huge tits like this," he muttered through the flesh. The words just drove them both higher. Erin loved to hear his lust-driven talk.

"Oh yes, Stan, bite my big boobs. Suck and lick and eat up my huge milk bags." Erin had always loved the nasty way some men talked about her breasts when they thought she couldn't hear. The nastier and dirtier the talk, the hotter it got her. "Suck 'em. Bite 'em. Eat 'em all up."

Stan was in big tit heaven. He couldn't get enough of the huge masses of flesh. His hands found endless ways to cup and squeeze them. He pushed his face deep into each fleshy pillow. Erin's gasps and shudders told him that she was enjoying this as much as he was. And he could feel her wet mound slickly sliding against his chest. Her female muskiness mixed with the perfumed aroma of her tits driving him wild. He kissed his way south to her pussy.

Stan was surprised to see that, although Erin had a full bush of brown hair at the top, she was shaved clean below. Stan dove into her pussy. It was already so wet. Erin had come twice from the attention her tits had gotten. Her orgasms from such play were whole-body affairs that warmed her all over and made her brain tingle, but were not as intense as the ones she gave herself with her fingers when she played each night, or the one Stan's tongue and lips would soon have her feeling.

"Oh, eat my pussy, Stan. She needs it so bad. Eat her up. Lick my wet hole. Ah, that's it! That is just what she needs. Stick your tongue deep in her. Oh, yes. Lick my cuntlips. Suck 'em. Ah. Yes. Yes, yes, yes! Oh, you are going to make me... yes, my clit, oh...suck...yes..."

Erin exploded in a gut-wrenching orgasm like she had not had before. Years of desire and frustration were released in an instant. Stan was good at eating pussy and Erin calling her cunt 'she' had driven him crazy. He was licking up her wetness and had just moved up to suck on her big cuntlips and tease her hard clit when he felt her convulse in ecstasy. Her pussy squirted its warm, clear juice in spurts onto his face. He licked and sucked it all up. He glanced up to see Erin's eyes tightly shut, her face twisted into a mask of intense pleasure. She grunted and strained to spit out animal sounds. Her hands mashed and tore at her huge tits. He could see her twisting her big nipples and lifting each massive globe and shaking it by the teat. She was a bitch in heat. Her squirting pussy bathed him in musky juice.

Stan needed to taste those tits again. He moved back up and seized one, then the other, biting the nipples and massaging each udder roughly. His cock was rubbing against her soaked mound. He felt Erin's hand grasp and squeeze his big cock. She stroked it and pumped it in her hand to test its stiffness. Then she rubbed the smooth cockhead along her drenched slit. One thrust and his thick meat was buried in her tight snatch. Erin moaned like she had been gut-punched. She came again. More of her she-come squirted.

Stan sucked greedily at one huge tit. Erin cupped the other and craned her neck down to take the other nipple into her own mouth as she had so many lonely nights before. The twin sensation of suckling brought her to the edge of another breast orgasm. She felt the familiar warmth and the flush of blood in her massive mams. As this wave hit, Stan's bulbous cockhead was pumping the depths of her hungry cunt. His stroke almost removed the thick cockhead from her tunnel, stretching the opening, and then pushed almost to her cervix. His cock brushed her g-spot and he ground into her clit on every stroke. All of this sent her over the top again. She screamed and cried with the shattering impact of the biggest orgasm she had ever felt. So much long-denied lust, so many sensations all came together at once. Her hips pumped and twitched. Her nails raked Stan's broad back down to his strong asscheeks, tightened to thrust to her core. She bucked and shook for several minutes.

When she regained her senses, Stan was behind her thrusting into her soaked cunt. His hands mauled her gigantic jugs. Erin raised herself to her hands and knees without dislodging his cock. She pushed back at his bull-like thrusting. Her huge jugs swayed and swung from her chest. Their weight felt good to her. Her tits were wet with sweat, saliva, and her pussy juices. Stan reached under to cup and squeeze each monster hanging globe. He could feel his balls boiling. His cock was so hard he thought it might burst apart. He felt Erin's hand cup his balls and lift them in the sac. She gently squeezed and massaged them as if she was trying to coax a flood of cum from them.

Suddenly, Erin pushed Stan back and straddled his stiff prick. She lowered herself down onto the thick flesh spike. Deeply impaled she rode it, feeling yet another orgasm building in her cunt. She tightened her inner muscles, clamping down on the cock. She leaned forward smothering Stan's face in sweet, soft tit flesh.

"They are all yours, tiger. Eat my huge tits. Suck my nipples hard. Bite them. They are all yours. Never stop sucking them. Mash them into your face. All that titty-meat is yours." Erin was hit by another orgasm just as Stan's passion became uncontainable. She twisted and pumped down on his shaft and felt spurts of his come against her sugar walls. Stan grunted loudly through clenched teeth. He was practically screaming. Erin matched his sounds with squeals of her own. The two lovers growled and ground together until they were spent. She collapsed beside him in a heap.

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