Out of the Bra and Into the Fire
A little background on a great life that just got even better. My wife is gorgeous and has a great body, but you would never notice it. She grew up in a very strict Christian home and still holds to many of the values that were instilled in her in those days. She's one of those very meek, plain, and conservative women that look like a homeschool kid who just got taller and grew some boobs. Her typical decor is very light makeup, if any at all, a loose fitting shirt that doesn't even approach showing any cleavage, and a long skirt that often is all the way down to her ankles. She's fairly pale, with just a light natural tan. She keeps her hair long and straight, it's natural chestnut color and shine popping despite her near inattention to it after combing it out in the mornings. Even her name, Nora, fits the narrative.
Her values also apply in the bedroom. She was raised to view sex as a purely utilitarian activity with the sole purpose of conception. There's no experimentation, and the idea of anything kinky is completely out of the realm of possibility most of the time. Blowjobs are a non starter as they don't fulfill the mandate of conception as the only goal of sex. With all of that said, her body is phenomenal. Fit, tight, curves in all the right places. I'm 30, she's 28, and despite just having our 3rd child about 6 weeks ago you would never know she had been pregnant if we weren't dragging him along with us everywhere we go.
Nora is about 5'7". Her eyes are hazel and sparkle at all times. Her smile is brilliant, overwhelming everything else around her when it makes its appearance. She's modest, but her body is lean and strong. I'm the only one who sees it, but her perfect ass could stop traffic and her thighs are smooth and strong, reaching their peak sensuality when she crosses her legs. She's not muscular, but her stomach is flat and firm, her arms are sinewy from working with three little ones all the time and the seriousness that she approaches her desired housework and gardening.
The real prize though, are her tits. They're a full C cup, actually probably a small D cup, but like everything else she doesn't show them off and wears full coverage D cup bras that have a little room in them. Her nipples have grown to probably half an inch when erect due to the kids sucking on them over the last several years. She produces ridiculous amounts of milk, so much that she donates bottles weekly to a local organization that distributes them to mothers who struggle to produce enough and can't afford formula. Even so, they're still as firm as the day I finally got to see them. Most of the time, that's all I get to do, but on rare occasions she actually gets so into our lovemaking that she lets me suck on them for a few minutes before she gets back under control and puts an end to it. Those brief, fleeting moments are worth it though.
While we don't always agree on everything, we do share the same basic beliefs. I trust her to take care of the day-to-day things with the kids and she doesn't complain at all that I work extra hours to provide since it was her idea to be a homemaker. It actually works quite well, even if it's not the social norm anymore. Nora is adored within our circles and gets along well with people of all walks of life despite her preferences. I've seen her strike up a conversation at the local coffee shop effortlessly with a young couple whose lifestyles were clearly a few standard deviations away from our own, and end with a hug and well wishes all around. It's fascinating to see from this otherwise nondescript woman whom I believe most people in public are barely even aware of.
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Our oldest is in her third year as part of our homeschool co-op, and this is where the story really begins to unfold. Nora was the centerpiece to this group of mostly moms. She organized everything, was the life of the party as much as there was one, and despite never showing it off I think she understood that she was the hot one. And she really was the hot one. The others were varying degrees of what you probably expect from a group of women and men like that. Frumpy, prone to only associating with their own bizarre cultural bubble, and determined to enforce their view of the world in the most minute and legalistic manner possible. That's where Chantel comes onto the scene and slowly, brazenly disrupts everything.
Chantel was so many things that didn't fit the mold that I'm still not sure how she became part of the group. She was a single mom, and even though she wouldn't discuss it the group gossip was that she was divorced. She seemed younger than most of the moms there, leading the gossips to construct stories about how she probably had the kid out of wedlock, suckered the guy into marrying her, and then couldn't keep a man with the way she flaunted herself everywhere. And she did flaunt herself, at least compared to the rest of the group.
She was maybe an inch shorter than Nora and had a superbly fit body that she clearly worked at. I can say that because there were times where she would show up to pick her kid up on days when we were hosting the co-op wearing ultra tight workout clothes and still glistening with sweat. She often showed up wearing a skirt or shorts that barely covered her ass. Her tops rarely concealed anything above the areolas, showing enough jiggle to confirm that they were real while also suggesting impressive firmness. And she was busty. Maybe a bit less so than Nora, but she was stacked. Her tan belied her multiethnic background, her naturally sultry and smoky appearance, and her willingness to enhance it. Her glossy black hair simply completed the picture in the most perfect of ways. I tried not to compare them, but when I heard that she also had an infant still on the tit, I wondered just how firm she was compared to my wife.
I had never wondered this about another woman before. Most women in Nora's league were not part of our social circle and rarely observed for more than a few fleeting moments before life moved on. The other women in the group were clearly inferior. Seeing how Nora minimized her assets, I feel comfortable in that conclusion as I've unintentionally trained myself to discern what's really there. Maybe the biggest issue was how naturally flirtatious the newcomer seemed to be. Like most of the men I tried to discount it but the women were increasingly furious, led by my wife who I think was subconsciously bothered by being upstaged a bit.
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Despite all that I've said so far, Chantel was sweet and as far as I know never actually made a play for any of the men in the group. When we did couples get togethers, she always showed up with someone different, but none of them were the kind of douchebag bros that you would pick up at a bar. All of them were good guys who had good jobs and could hold a conversation on just about any topic. Chantel was actually more reserved in her appearance around them than she was the homeschool group which I think actually angered the jealous women even more.
Over the weeks and months, we began to learn more and more about the new woman. Her husband, whom she married right out of high school, was an Army Ranger who was killed in a training accident just a few months before she appeared in our circle. Her oldest child was born 10 months after her wedding date, putting to rest one of the most persistent rumors among the clucking hens. She was a dancer and cheerleader in high school and a yoga and fitness instructor now, explaining her clothing from time to time and the fit, athletic frame she showed off most of the time. You would think that would squelch the potential issues, or at least buy her some leeway, but understanding and sympathy were nowhere to be found.
The tipping point happened one evening when we were hosting the co-op again and Chantel had car trouble after work that made her later than usual for her pickup. Nora acted compassionate outwardly, offering to feed Chantel's oldest and have him start working on that day's homework with our children, but I could see her fuming as she spoke to the other mom over the phone. When the younger mom finally showed up, she was still dressed in her workout clothes from work. The kids were still in another room working together on their lessons, and before I could summon Chantel's child I heard the first words that sent events spiraling towards their inevitable outcome.
"If you're going to be so late, couldn't you at least have the decency to cover up instead of flaunting yourself in front of my husband?"
"Excuse me? I'm wearing what I wear to work every day. Just because you're some frigid prude that doesn't mean I'm going to dress like it's 1852 just to come pick my kid up."