By Margo Perry  (margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
Copyright 2001 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

Vincent checked his e-mail before leaving for work.

“Happy Birthday, Vincent

We’re all set for tonight.  Bob’s made the reservation.  Barney’s: 8 o’clock.

See you there.

Daphne.”

Vincent read the note twice.  His heart pounded with excitement at the very sight of Daphne’s name and the thought of seeing her made him tremble.  An intoxicating pleasure stirred in his balls, making his cock rock hard with anticipation.  He glanced at the clock on his desk: 8:00 am.  In twelve hours he would be sitting across from her in a restaurant, gazing into her eyes and trying desperately to resist the urge to stare outright at her incredible tits.  The only problem was that they would be accompanied by Bob, who happened to be not only his best friend, but also Daphne’s husband.

Three months ago Bob married Daphne and had appeared to be blissfully happy and Vincent had been happy for him.  Daphne was a beautiful woman and Vincent could only hope that one day he would find someone as sexy and attractive for himself.  Until then, he would have to be satisfied with admiring his friend’s new bride from afar, catching a glimpse of her huge breasts when he could and fantasizing about them in bed at night.  At least that’s what he thought until this week, when the e-mails started coming and it became apparent that Daphne had noticed him as much as he had noticed her.

Like a man returning to the scene of a crime, Vincent found himself clicking on her original email that read:

“Vincent,

Bob says you’re the greatest guy he knows and that you deserve a woman that’ll make you as happy as he is.  I agree.

Enjoy the pic, Daphne.”

Vincent opened the attachment as he had every day since he’d gotten it.  The vision of Daphne filled his screen.  Lounging provocatively on a bed, one knee up, arms relaxed over her head, she was a woman whose intent was clear: seduction.  A thick mass of red curls fell past her shoulders.  Her green eyes smoldered.  Her pink tongue licked the upper lip of her full, slightly open mouth.  Through her transparent orange negligee, he could see the outline of her voluptuous body.  Her nipples were long and hard and exploding out of her V-neck burst the fullest breasts and the deepest cleavage Vincent had ever seen.

As he had every time he looked at her huge tits, Vincent stroked his cock as he imagined being pulled into them, feeling their softness against his skin.  He wanted to touch them, suck them and bite them.  He wanted to reach between her legs, to please her, this woman who was surely soaking wet.  He wanted to fuck her, his best friend’s wife, more than he’d ever wanted to make love to anyone in his entire life.  His passion for Daphne and fear of his own helplessness, his love for Bob and self-loathing raged inside him as he shut off his computer and finally left for work.

Vincent’s workday was long and perplexing.  Pictures, memories and feelings drifted unbidden through his conscious mind.  This thing between him and Daphne had been going on for a week and he hadn’t been able to concentrate on his work or control his thoughts.  They were all about Daphne and he felt like he was going mad.

He thought about the second e-mail that had popped up on his work computer, a few days after the first.  From “D”, not Daphne.  Even that was a private thing between them that added to the intimacy of the illicit world she was creating, a dictatorship in which she ruled and he was simply her obedient subject.

“Vincent,

Bob tells me that you LOVE big tits.  That’s good because mine are double D’s and very sensitive.  I was playing with them when I set up the camera to take that picture for you.  Just for you, baby.  Did you notice my hard nipples?  Of course you did, Vincent!  And I bet you touched yourself.  Bet you want to touch yourself now, even though you’re at work.  I bet you’ve sent that pic to work so you can look at me during the day.  Haven’t you?  I bet you want to look at it now, pull out that cock of yours and make yourself feel real good. 

Are you playing touchy-feely thru’ your pants, sweetie?  Have fun!

D.”

He’d looked at her picture and then forwarded the second e-mail to his home address to read later and do what she’d known he’d want to do as soon as he read it. 

Vincent felt like the day would never end, but like all days it did and he drove home, exhausted from the emotional tug of war that had become his life. 

She was waiting for him in his post box.  Her e-mail simply read:

“See you tonight Vincent,

I can hardly wait.

Love, D.”

He’d just poured himself a large scotch when the phone rang.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello, it’s D.  I’m downstairs.”

Vincent’s breath stopped short.

“What are you doing here?”

“Let me in and you’ll find out.”

Without thinking, he punched in the code and buzzed her in.  Suddenly realizing what he had done, he hung up the phone and waited.  That’s all he could do.

Her knock was gentle but persistent. 

“Hello, baby,” she said, as Vincent opened the door. 

Her voice seemed deeper than he remembered and she moved through the door with a catlike sexuality that he hadn’t noticed before.  The picture was one thing but actually being in her presence, after this week’s shenanigans, was completely unnerving.  She wore a white halter dress, low cut in the front.  Its soft skirt fell about her round hips.  He could see her nipples, long and taut and her deep cleavage was an endless road to paradise. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked again, feeling awkward, foolish and completely out of his depth.

“I’ve come to get to know you better.  Much better,” she chuckled.

She took his hand, leading him to the couch.

“Sit,” she invited, patting the place beside her.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” Vincent tried again.

She raised his hand to her lips.  She kissed his palm, licked him with a very wet tongue from his wrist to the very end of his forefinger.

“You have a lovely hand,” she whispered, pulling him down onto the couch.

“This is wrong,” Vincent resisted.  “Bob is my … ”

“I know, Bob is your best friend but he wants you to be happy.  And I’m here to make you happy.”

Reaching across, she deftly unzipped his fly, reached in and pulled out his erection.  And then, lifting her skirt gracefully, she climbed onto his lap, moving in slow circles like a lap dancer.  He could feel her heat.  His long hard cock rubbed against her wetness.  He felt helpless and hornier than he’d ever imagined possible.  She placed her hands on her breasts and began to massage them sensuously. 

“I know that you love them.  Do you want to touch them?”

“I do,” Vincent said.

She took both his hands and pressed them against her enormous tits. 

“Oooooo …,” Vincent moaned.

“Come here.  Come here, baby.”

She took Vincent’s face in her hands and pulled him to her, into the firm softness of her massive breasts.  She cuddled him, feeding one clothed nipple into his mouth. 

“Oh God, this is what I want,” Vincent said.

“I know what you really need,” she cooed.

She reached in and freed one breast.  She fed it to him lovingly.  As he began to suckle, she positioned her cunt over the glistening throbbing head of his cock and lowered her weight onto him.  His whole body convulsed as he thrust into her and exploded with wads and wads of hot thick cum.  She felt the flooding of her own juices and, as Vincent slumped satiated against the back of the couch, she moved against him relentlessly until she crossed the line, gasping victory of her own sweet pleasure.

“Shhhhh, baby,” she said.  “I’ll take care of you, you’ll see.  Don’t move.”

As if I could, thought Vincent helplessly.

“There’s somebody we need to talk to.”

She picked up the phone and dialed.

“I’m here with Vincent.  Please talk to him.”

“Hello,” Vincent said, taking the phone.

“How do you like Dahlia?” Bob asked.

“Who?”

“Daphne’s twin sister, Dahlia.  She said she was going to meet you at your apartment and join us for dinner.”

“You mean this is Daphne’s sister?

“Of course, so if she’s already there, I guess we’ll see you at eight.”

Vincent hung up the phone.

Dahlia stood in front of him, staring deep into his eyes.

“Please forgive me,” she said.

Vincent felt a vague anger but it was like a smoke ring curling into nothingness, even before it could register.  And all he really felt after they’d talked was happiness.

Just before eight they all met in the parking lot and entered Barney’s laughing: Vincent and Bob with the double D’s, Daphne and Dahlia and all eyes were on them.  They were an awesome looking pair.