Taming of a Husband

taming of husband
“Why you devastating, sexy, teasing bitch,” Yolanda Peterson exclaimed as her eyes wandered like caressing fingers over the incredible assortment of lush curves that were stuffed into a tissue-thin paisley print silk dress that seemed at least three sizes too small for her friend, Ethel Walsh.

“If you’ll take your greedy eyes off my big boobs for a moment,” Ethel laughed, “you’ll find that I’ve worn a little bonus for you this afternoon.”

When Yolanda managed to tear her eyes away from the monumental teats which normally were squeezed into the twin hammocks of a size 44-D-cup bra, but which obviously weren’t today by the way they moved liquidly about on Ethel’s ribcage, her black eyes wandered down over a wasp waist, flaring hips, and then gasped when she saw that her friend’s long, full-fleshed limbs were clad almost to the hem of her mini-mini skirt in gleaming black leather boots.

“ETHEL … they’re simply FANTASTIC,” Yolanda shrieked ecstatically. “I’ve never seen such an exquisite pair, and of course those marvelous legs of yours don’t do them any harm either … what’s the occasion?” “Our wife swapping club meeting this week was to be the occasion,” Ethel giggled. “But I’ve got the hots so for you today that I thought they might melt down your resistance.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Yolanda laughed. “You clad in a burlap sack would melt down my resistance. Come on in before I kiss your pussy right here on my doorstep.” “That black lace negligee you’re wearing, plus your black hose and gloves isn’t exactly conducive to playing jacks,” Ethel smiled as she entered the foyer of the Peterson mansion, her skyscraper-heeled boots and her tight mini forcing her to take little mincing steps, her enormous melons jouncing about heavily in the flimsy confinement of her frock.

“They weren’t intended to be,” Yolanda smiled as she reached up and cupped the underside of her friend’s massive, out-thrusting breasts, squeezing them with gloved fingers, lifting them, amazed as always by their incredible weight. “God, I’ve been dying to get my hands on these beauties all day.”

“And they’ve been aching for you to,” Ethel smiled as, starting at the neckline, she began to unbutton a series of buttons that ran down the front of her skin tight frock.

“M-m-m, I like my girl friends to be cooperative,” Yolanda gasped when the dress parted after the fifth button was opened and Ethel’s magnificent naked teats spilled out of her bodice to roll ponderously about, the almost dinner plate sized aureoles and thumb sized nipples brilliantly red from a heavy application of lipstick.

“GOD what a teasing bitch you are.”
Taming of a Husband

“You’re a teasing bitch yourself,” Ethel scolded, then moaned as Ethel captured an enormous globe in eager gloved hands, almost sinking from sight in its pillowing softness. “You’d better not let me catch you with some fiat chested broad!”

“You know big boobs are my ‘thing’, sweetie, every other woman looks like a skinny boy compared to you,” Yolanda gasped as she leaned down and sucked a huge nipple into her warm mouth, lacing it with a darting tongue.

Ethel was about to unbutton her dress and lay it aside, but suddenly realized that she would look sexier with her mammoth teats spilled over the top; so instead she stood motionless, her tautly gloved arms by her side, permitting her excited friend to have her way with her breasts, breathing, “Just as long as you concentrate solely on mine, they’re all yours, darling-g-g … oh that’s it, bite them.., ouou-ou … oh YES-S-S … OH GOD but my pussy’s on fire!” “That’s a fire I’ll put out later with my saliva,” Yolanda gurgled through nipple-stuffed lips.

The tight kid squeaked over Ethel’s flesh as Yolanda squeezed great handfuls of foam rubber-soft breast flesh and twisted it viciously, her sharp teeth raking the excruciatingly sensitive flesh of her friend’s swollen nipple.

“Oh YES-S-S!” Ethel shrieked in a fit of carnal delirium, grasping the back of Yolanda’s head and pressing her face into the depths of her breast. “Oh I’ve GOT to have it .. take me to your dungeon … Give me the lash, rip me to SHREDS!”

“My but aren’t you the impatient one,” Yolanda teased, letting the incredibly elongated nipple slide wetly from between her nursing lips, the resultant sound like that of a cork popping off of a bottle of champagne; then walking to a nearby couch and sliding the great round globes of her luscious rump onto it, spreading her gorgeous black nylon sheathed limbs wide in wanton invitation. “I don’t think that I could concentrate on giving you the lashing that you crave unless I am relieved first, temporarily of course.” The leather that held Ethel’s knees in a vise-like grip screeched on the hardwood floor as she dove between the widely splayed limbs of her friend, crying out as she swooped down and buried her lovely face in the dense, moist nest of passion, “Oh I’m going to eat you like you’ve NEVER been eaten!”

These proved to be no idle words as the ravishing Ethel feasted on Yolanda’s creaming love canal like a man on the desert for a week who had found a water hole. Hot desire blazed within the two gorgeous females as Yolanda lurched forward on the couch, swiveling her lush hips wildly, pumping her hot pussy against the huge busted Ethel’s greedy mouth, the room filled with wet, squooshing sounds.

As Yolanda’s hips rolled and tossed, she tensed, then bathed her friend’s wildly suctioning lips with her release, “Now you sexy bitch … to the DUNGEON with you!”

As the two ravishing women made their way down to the basement, a basement that had been converted by one of Yolanda’s husband’s ancestors into a fantastically equipped dungeon, Ethel did a strange thing. Reaching into her handbag as they made their way down the ancient stone steps she drew out an enormous bra and slid the cups under her gargantuan teats which were still flopping about, overlapping the neckline of her gown. It took every ounce of her strength to draw the body straps together in back and work the catches, her heavy breasts rising as she did so as if hoisted by some unseen derrick.

“Spoil-sport,” Yolanda pouted. “You’re very wasteful, you know that’ll be ripped to pieces in a few minutes.” “Not necessarily,” Ethel smiled as she buttoned up her dress, Yolanda staring in disbelief at the awesome amount of shadowy cleavage created by the constricting action of the bra. “I had this specially made by a corsetierre; the body straps are double reinforced. You’ll have to use every ounce of your strength and pinpoint accuracy to cut it in two.”
“This has got to be my favorite spot on earth,” Ethel cried out as they entered the clammy dungeon, her lovely eyes sparkling as they examined a row of instruments and devices of torture that lined its walls. “Oh let’s hurry, I can just feel that delicious lash ripping into my bottom cheeks.”

“It’s my favorite spot too, precious,” Yolanda enthused

as she led her gorgeous friend to a raised platform in the center of the dungeon and mounted it with her. Ethel eagerly held her gloved arms above her head and Yolanda quickly fettered them at the wrist to two chains that hung down from a massive overhead beam. “We certainly have had some fabulous times here together. Remember when we stripped the clothing off of that cute grocery boy with the lash, and then laced his cock into erection till he finally shot his load into the air?”

“And then I worked his dick into erection with my gloved hands immediately afterwards and had him screw me although he was hanging upside down at the time,” Ethel laughed. “But enough talking, sweetie, I can’t bear the suspense any longer.”
“You know it just occurred to me, we’re like Jack Spratt and his wife,” Yolanda smiled as she left the platform and turned a huge crank at its base, the platform gradually lowering till Ethel hung suspended in the air.

“Why?”

“Well, Jack Spratt could eat no fat, and his wife could eat no lean.”

“So?”

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