This story has a slow buildup. I hope that you find the conclusion worth the wait.
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Jonathon is sitting in a swivel chair in his home library gazing out the window at the sunset. The walls of the library are lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves made of maple. On the shelves are various books and magazines, vases and various knick-knacks, and photographs. There are lots of pictures of him and his wife, and their families, during happier times. The sky outside is awash with color, red and orange and pink. Despite the magnificent scene, he is feeling rather sullen. His eyes are slightly misty. He is sipping a cognac from a crystal snifter and listening to Mozart's Requiem. It is a choral piece that evokes a deep sense of sorrow, mourning, and contemplation in him. He always gets this way at the end of May. Well, at least for the past four years anyway. His wedding anniversary is coming up in early June and melancholy overtakes him at this time of year ever since his wife passed away. Loretta was taken from this earth suddenly four years ago, after 23 years of marriage. He was deeply in love with her and he still misses her tremendously. He has soldiered on, passing through the Kübler-Ross stages of grief and finally reaching acceptance. However, that doesn't mean that he doesn't get sad once in a while, especially at this time of year. In most aspects, he has moved on with his life, although he has not started dating or seeing other women.
Loretta was gorgeous, intelligent, talkative, and usually sarcastic, especially when Jonathon did something dumb. She was five-foot-three with shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes, and an amazing top hourglass figure. She had firm 34C breasts that were just perfect in his mind. He loved her boobs. He loved to feel them, and play with them, and bury his face in them, and lick them, and suckle them. They were the most glorious breasts he had ever seen. She would frequently tease him saying, "These tits are the only reason you married me. Well, that and blowjobs, of course." He would usually just sheepishly smile, because he loved her outgoing personality and sarcastic wit, but she was also right in a way. He really worshiped her tits and adored her blowjobs.
Jonathon often contemplated why he loved boobs so much. Sure, there are theories about an evolutionary basis for man's fascination with the female breast. Some scientists aver that breasts may be desired because they indicate sexual maturity and fertility status. Others believe that men have developed an attraction to breasts because breast and nipple stimulation tap into a neurochemical bonding system that can bring couples closer together. It is all the effects of oxytocin and dopamine. Human evolution has harnessed an ancient neural circuit that originally evolved to strengthen the mother-infant bond during breastfeeding, and now uses this brain circuitry to strengthen the bond between couples as well. The result? Men, like babies, love breasts. Of course, it is possible that it is all just cultural. Let's face it female sexuality, and breasts in particular, is all around us - in advertisements, in magazines, on television, in movies. Men aren't so much biologically drawn to breasts as they are trained from an early age to find them desirable.
Whatever, the case, Jonathon found Loretta's boobs enjoyable. They were satisfying to feel or hold or lick or suckle. The sensory pleasure derived from the firm softness and warmth, and the tactile contrasts of skin and mammary tissue and nipple are gratifying and addictive. There are also the visual aspects. Curves are eye-catching. There's a reason car designers and architects love smooth lines and rounded shapes--it's pleasing to the eye. Breasts add that extra curve, making a woman's silhouette more dynamic and mesmerizing. And Loretta's curves were certainly spellbinding.
Mariah was standing quietly in the doorway to the library observing her brother-in-law, Jonathon. He had given her a key to the house after Loretta passed away for her to come and go as she pleased, and he had set up the spare bedroom so she could sleep over whenever she wished. In the initial months, she spent a fair amount of time at the house. Both she and Jonathon found it comforting to be together as they grieved. As time passed, Mariah was spending less time at the house. Lately, Mariah was mostly staying at her apartment which was a 15 drive from the house. She was only stopping by once a week to check on Jonathon and rarely sleeping over anymore.
Mariah was Loretta's younger sister, by eleven months. Jonathon used to tease them that they were "Irish twins" because they were born so close together. Mariah was an inch taller than Loretta, but otherwise they looked similar in appearance. Mariah had blonde hair that she kept a little longer than Loretta's, and she has gray-blue eyes, rather than the pure blue of her sister. Their figures were almost identical. Mariah also had a top hourglass shape, with prominent 34C breasts.
Mariah fancied her brother-in-law. Loretta had much better taste in men than she did; and she had always been envious of Loretta's boyfriends and of her husband, although she never made a play for her sister's partners. That would just be wrong. Mariah's first marriage ended in divorce after only 18 months. They were incompatible and Mariah suspected that he might have been gay. Her second husband just up and left suddenly eleven years ago. She never heard from him again and to this day she has no idea of why he left or where he is. She never remarried, although she has had several boyfriends on and off.
Jonathon heard a slight noise and turned from the window and looked towards the door of the library. He saw a familiar female form in the shadows wearing an olive-green floral print dress. It had a scoop neckline and ended just below the knees. "Loretta?" he whispered.
Mariah stepped forward out of the shadow and said, "No, silly. It's me, your sister-in-law, Mariah."
"Oh yeah. Right. Sorry. I guess I was daydreaming."
"I understand. You were thinking of her, weren't you? You always get melancholy at this time of the year. Well, that's why I came over, to cheer you up. We're going out to dinner to that new Brazilian steak house that opened up downtown."
"I'm not sure I feel like going out tonight."
"I know you're not and that is exactly why I came over," she said in a stern but loving tone. "Now get your butt off that chair and get moving. I'm driving us and we're going to have a good time."
Jonathon finished his cognac, sighed, and got up from the chair. He knew that tone of voice and realized it was less arduous to comply with his sister-in-law's wishes than to argue with her. He turned off the music he was listening to and followed her out to her car. He was admiring her cute, rounded butt in the tight dress, and watching her hips sway from side to side as she walked. "Is that one of Loretta's dresses?" he asked.
"You have a good memory. It is. We are the same size, you know. We used to wear each other's clothes all of the time. I decided that enough time had passed that I could wear one of her dresses without it upsetting you. Did I get that wrong?"
"No, you're right. I don't mind. In fact, you look wonderful in it."
