Exigency

I returned "home" when I was 29, after a failed marriage. My wife June cheated on me. I erupted. I beat the shit out of her lover -- and his brother when he intervened -- and spent a night in jail. However, my shark attorney not only got me released after one night, but she got the charges dismissed. One of her law partners also got the assholes' civil lawsuit dismissed by consent when a PI she hired caught them in a drug buy and threatened to turn the assholes over to the cops.

As I returned to my home town, a suburb of a big U. S. city, I had only a few thousand dollars but no alimony or child support (we had no kids only because June didn't want them) responsibilities, and a new promising job. I tried to figure out why I wanted my fresh start to be in my home town -- it probably was because of the fond memories I had growing up there even though my parents now lived 1500 miles away.

I was anxious to look up some old friends from High School, especially Jimmy Andrus. Jimmy and I had initially bonded over athletics, but became inseparable because we clicked on every level. At six feet two inches tall, and 205 pounds as a senior, Jimmy was the quarterback in football and the shooting guard in basketball. At six five, 235, as a senior I was the tight end in football and power forward in basketball. While we were no Dan Fouts and Kellen Winslow in football, or Earl Monroe and Dave DeBusschere in basketball, we were good enough to win conference championships in both sports.

Jimmy and I rarely saw each other after our post-High School summer because we went to colleges on opposite coasts, and my parents moved my freshman year in college. However, our friendship was deep enough so that I was sure that it would easily be rekindled when we reconnected ten years later.

While I wasn't big on social media, I had followed Jimmy somewhat, and met him for lunch the third week that I was back "home." After we exchanged manly hugs he said "Blake Jacobs, you don't look a bit different than our senior year in High School. Is life treating you right?"

I was still six five, 235, and in good shape, but life had not been treating me right. I gave Jimmy the basics of my divorce and night in the slammer, but then immediately moved on to more pleasant things.

"Except for a few lines in your face Jimmy, you look no different either," I honestly remarked.

"Despite three kids and a challenging job, I still stay in shape so I'm only five pounds heavier than in High School," he chuckled. I was pleased to see that life had been better for him than for me. He now was the COO of a large privately held corporation that his father had started, had a wife that he adored, and three little boys, at that time three, five, and seven years old. "You have to meet Michelle and the boys as soon as possible," he said as we started to eat. "Come to Billy's basketball game this Saturday afternoon and stay for dinner," he insisted, Billy being his seven year old.

"I'd love to," I smiled.

After spending 90 minutes with Jimmy it was like we had only been apart for a month instead of ten years, despite our divergent lives.

***********

Jimmy was at Billy's game with his other two boys, five year old Sean and three year old Zach. They all seemed like great kids, and it was fun to be involved in athletics again, something that I hadn't had much to do with since college since my ex-wife June was definitely not into sports.

I was surprised at how big Jimmy's three boys were for their ages. I was sure that Billy was going to be a power forward like I was, not a shooting guard like Jimmy. I wasn't surprised by their size once I met Jimmy's wife, Michelle Andrus.

I had pictured in my mind that Michelle would be a petite energetic blue-eyed blond, like Jimmy's two (at different times) High School girlfriends. Not so!

Michelle was the most intriguing looking woman I had ever seen in my life. She had jet black hair that she wore medium length and black irises in her eyes -- something I hadn't seen before. Her face was not spectacularly beautiful, although it was at least an 8 on a 10 point scale, but what distinguished her was her body.

As I found out later on, because Michelle was proud to tell anyone interested, she is five feet nine and three quarters inches tall in the morning with her shoes off, and weighs 152 ½ pounds when she steps on the scale naked every morning. She has a heavy duty suspension chassis with an ass, thighs, and six pack that are definitely 10s on a 10 point scale. Her tits, on the other hand, cannot be evaluated on a scale that ordinary human beings would be measured on.

Michelle's tits have to weigh ten pounds each they are so massive -- by far the biggest tits I have ever seen on an otherwise sleek woman. As I also later learned she has to wear a back brace when jogging, cross-training, or doing other intense exercise, in order to support the ripe melons on her chest. She has zero excess flesh on any part of her body -- unless you consider her bazookas excess flesh, which I doubt any heterosexual male would.

I tried not to gawk when looking at Michelle. It was really hard (almost as hard as my cock, which I had to cover up the best that I could). However, she acted like a mom rather than a sex symbol so I was ultimately able to reign in my lust.

While Michelle was the most physically striking woman that I had ever seen -- and from the way that she picked up the boys and objects, also likely the strongest -- her personality did not mesh with mine. She is -- to put it in the politest terms possible -- a strong cup of tea (actually a cup of green tea that is half Everclear); bold and brash.

Michelle ran the family like a German stationmaster, and took care of their six bedroom mini-mansion (with a workout room equipped with all of the best hi-tech equipment and a small media room/movie theater) with little help. Everyone -- including Jimmy -- toed the line. I have to admit that the boys -- although really active otherwise normal kids -- were the most well-behaved that I had ever seen in my life.

As time wore on, Michelle and I didn't really warm up to each other. We were mostly pleasant to each other but our relationship, though not contentious, was "guarded."

Despite the "guarded" relationship that Michelle and I had, I soon became a member of the family. I helped out on both weekend days taking the kids to one event or the other, and Jimmy, Michelle and I (more often than not me with a date, but sometimes without one) went out virtually every Saturday night including to Jimmy's business functions or charitable events.

After I had been "home" about fourteen months, Michelle delivered another baby boy. I had been particularly helpful to Michelle with the kids -- I treated them like my own, including coaching Billy's recreational basketball team -- while she was pregnant, including taking them out some weeknights if Jimmy was out of town and she needed a rest. I was still surprised when Michelle and Jimmy had no disagreement whatsoever that their fourth boy would be named "Blake," and I would be his godfather.

I cried, causing Jimmy to choke up and almost cry himself, and causing Michelle -- as she nursed little Blake with one of her gigantic mammary glands -- to playfully call me a "pathetic wimp."

To give you some more insight into Michelle's personality and physique, six months after she delivered boy number four she was as toned as when I met her, and still weighed 152 ½ pounds.

I was always curious about Jimmy and Michelle's relationship given how accommodating he seemed to be and what a "strong cup of tea" she was; however, I was too polite to inquire about it. However, when Jimmy and I were out of town overnight at a football game and he got drunk for the first time ever in my experience he opened up to me. While he said a lot -- and remembered almost nothing the next morning -- his basic theme was that Michelle was hard to handle, but it was worth it not only because she was such a good mother but because (slurs removed and proper language used) "She's the best fuck -- both titty and vaginal -- in the history of mankind and wants it all of the time!" Sometime later he continued with (again set forth here in a much more intelligible form than he actually espoused it) "Do you know that she spends forty minutes a day on her tits keeping them in the best shape possible, with exercise -- did you know that there are tit exercises -- lotions, and creams, always sleeps on her back, and has a dozen custom made bras that fit her exactly and provide maximum support; and boy is it worth it!"

I really wish that he hadn't told me those things because it was hard enough to suppress a boner around Michelle as it was, and near impossible after that revelation.

***********

By the time that my namesake little Blake was five years old -- Jimmy and I were thirty five, Michelle thirty four -- he was probably as close to being my son as I likely ever would have. We really seemed to click, just as Jimmy and I had in High School.

I also had great relationships with the three other boys, especially Billy, whose recreational basketball teams I continued to coach (with little Blake as my "honorary assistant") and who was fulfilling my prediction that he would be a power forward since he was the biggest and strongest kid his age in the league.

Of course life isn't just a bed of roses, and for me and the Andrus family that became clear in spades shortly after little Blake's fifth birthday.

Jimmy got in an industrial accident at one of his company's plants that he was visiting, and ended up in the hospital in a coma.

Except for a lump and cut on his head, he looked completely normal lying in his hospital bed; but he was anything but. The doctors had no idea when he would come out of his coma -- it could be any time, or heaven forbid -- never. Fortunately he had blue ribbon health and disability insurance plans so at least there would be no economic hardships.

Michelle took the situation as well as could be expected -- but even her normally stoic façade crumbled on occasion, although she tried her best to remain strong for the boys.

About the third time that I visited Jimmy in the hospital -- and it was clear that his coma was likely long term -- I promised him (not that he could hear me or understand) that I would take care of his family.

While Michelle rarely specifically asked me for help, she never refused it when offered, and was grateful -- in her understated way -- as she could be. We fell into a routine.

I would take all four boys Wednesday night -- sometimes with an especially accommodating date -- so that Michelle could get a little time to herself such as by going to a play, movie, or shopping with her mom and/or sister. Every Friday night I would bring pizza and salad for everyone to the Andrus mini-mansion, and then would play board games, or some sort of sports, with all four of the boys.

All day Saturday and Sunday I would help Michelle ferry the kids around to their weekend activities, and sometimes would do things with one or two of the boys on Saturday nights if I didn't have a date. I would also help out as much as I could on Sunday.

This had been going on for five months, with no changed prognosis for Jimmy, when on a Friday morning Michelle called me at work. In her normal no-nonsense way she told me that there was no need to bring pizza that night since something else was planned, and to get there at 7:00 p. m., instead of 6:15 as was usual.

I didn't think too much about the call until I arrived at the Andrus residence at 6:57 and when I walked in (I never knocked -- I was treated like family) and called for the boys there was no response.

Michelle walked into the living room with a dressing gown on after I had been there a couple of minutes, and I was just about to go on a search for life. "Hi Blake, I'm glad that you could make it; the boys aren't around. I coerced their grandparents and aunt to take them for the night, although it won't be near as much fun for them as they have with you. There's something we need to discuss."

Although she said it with a lilt to her voice, it sounded a little ominous; but I wasn't apprehensive when she offered me a drink -- she chugged a brandy and poured herself another one -- and then asked me to sit with her in the living room.

After more chit-chat than I was used to having with Michelle she chugged her second snifter of brandy, poured herself a third, and then stared at me with her coal black eyes.

"Blake, I hope that you realize how grateful the boys and I are for your help -- and how grateful Jimmy would be for it. We couldn't make it without you," she almost choked out, a rare tear falling from her left eye.

"I'm honored to help; I feel that the boys are as close to my own sons as I'll ever have," I genuinely replied.

She smiled, wiped away her tear -- and an unwelcome second one that was materializing -- and then continued.

"There is another thing that you can do for our family, however. I don't know if Jimmy ever told you, but I have an extremely high libido. I am going crazy without sex; Jimmy and I usually have sex of some sort at least five times a week despite having been married for fourteen years," she announced, with resolve in her voice.

I thought that was TMI, but just nodded my head sure that I was blushing.

"Anyway, I need you to take Jimmy's place not just with helping the kids and me with everyday activities -- but in the bedroom."

I dropped my glass -- fortunately it was almost empty and was just vodka tonic so that the little that spilled on the floor wouldn't hurt anything.

"What...I...well...couldn't...are...serious...he's my best..." and like dribble, in incomplete thoughts let alone complete sentences, came stammering out of my mouth.

"Let me put it to you this way," Michelle continued, obviously amused by how gobsmacked I was. "I can't go on like this. I need to have my sexual needs met. If you won't help me I'll probably go out and fuck random guys. Would Jimmy want that -- or would he rather have his best friend, someone who he knows will treat me right and be respectful, satisfy my needs?"

With that she stood up, dropped her dressing gown, which was the only object of clothing that she had on, and walked toward me.

Her naked body was indescribably delicious. The reality was even better than the fantasy. Despite having nursed four boys and having enormous bazoobs, her turgid tits had no more than a slight natural sag, and well-defined inviting elongated classically "protruding" (for those of you familiar with the eight nipple types) nipples. Her shaved pussy had a distended clit that almost looked like a small dick, and her hips and thighs were so spectacular that any artist would die to be able to replicate them in marble or on canvas.

I think that I did put up a mild protest as she straddled my legs while planting as zealous a kiss as I had ever experienced on my lips. However, I had no hope of resisting. I can't imagine the intestinal fortitude that would allow a horny heterosexual male like me to refuse her body; I certainly didn't have what it took.

After we passionately kissed while she encouraged me to maul her mammaries (not that I required much encouragement) she stroked my hard cock through my pants. With a diabolical sneer she announced "The boys won't be back until ten tomorrow morning. Let's see how well you can abuse my kitty and nipples before then. Carry me to my bedroom."

You would think that carrying a 152 ½ pound women up a flight of stairs would be hard. It would have been except for the fact that I was so pumped up with adrenaline and so otherwise excited that I didn't even think about it. With a little help from Michelle I got my clothes off in record time, and soon I was licking her labia while squeezing the most amazing tits that I had ever seen (not just live but in print or on a screen).

After I licked and squeezed for a while I sucked her engorged clit into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue while continuing to work on her nipples. She came like a freight train with such power that it almost dislodged me from the bed.

While she was still spasming in orgasm, and without releasing her perfect mammaries, I shinned up and buried my cock in her soaking wet expectant cunt in one deliberate push. I was shocked at how tight her vagina was -- a 150 pound woman who had delivered four large babies should not be that tight. (I later found out that she had had a vaginoplasty and did Kegel exercises three times a day).

After a few strokes, when her first orgasm had subsided somewhat, she started pulsing her pc muscles. It was like she was giving me a handjob and blowjob at the same time her pulsations were so powerful. It was too much to take. I came faster than at any time since I was a horny teenager and deposited a monster load in her cunt. She continued to pulse her pc muscles until about the fourth salvo, at which point she screamed, writhed in her own orgasm, and then shortly thereafter -- while I was still buried in her up to my ball sac -- went limp.

As I lay in a stupor there was no doubt that it was the best sexual experience of my life -- by a light year. When my cock finally started to go flaccid and I regained enough awareness to withdraw she seemed to get a second wind and immediately shinnied down and started sucking my glistening cock. By the time that she had cleaned it off completely it was starting to harden again.

"How about a nice titty fuck?" she grinned, as she massaged my balls with both hands.

"Sounds awesome," was my stupid reply.

"There's a problem though..." she teased.

"What's that?" I bit.

"Once you titty fuck me you'll do anything I want; I'll have complete control over you," she diabolically responded.

"I think that I'll take the chance," I chuckled.

Michelle removed a tube from under one of the pillows that had "Boob Lube" prominently displayed on it, squeezed out a purple gel the likes of which I had never seen before, and sneered, "Why don't you coat the entire inside of my boobies, stud."

After accomplishing one of the more pleasurable tasks I had ever undertaken she ordered, "Now straddle me and get that beautiful hunk of man meat up here."

The initial feeling in my cock as she squeezed her firm yet pliable tits onto it almost made me spontaneously cum. Fortunately I avoided that because once I started stroking my mind filled with so many endorphins that I honestly repeatedly thought, "This must be heaven."

I was wrong. Heaven came when I ejaculated onto her neck and chin and she had her own powerful orgasm from titty fucking alone.

By the time that we were in the shower together about 9:30 the next morning I suddenly realized that what Jimmy had told me in his drunken state several years earlier was spot on; titty and vaginally fucking this woman were the most spectacular things that could happen to any man. I hoped that she wouldn't abuse and take advantage of me too much in the future because like Jimmy I was now probably putty in her hands. My balls and cock hurt like crazy -- as she said her pussy and tits did too --but it was the best, most rewarding, pain of my life.

Since I had developed such a good relationship with Jimmy and Michelle's four boys, there was only joy when they were told that Uncle Blake would be spending Friday, Saturday and Sunday overnights with them from now on. The three younger boys weren't clued in to what the ramifications of that were, but after three weeks Billy -- now almost fourteen and mature for his age -- sure was.

I thought that there may be a problem with Billy, so one weekday in the summer we went to a day-long basketball camp, ate breakfast together beforehand, lunch there, and dinner by ourselves afterward. When we drove home I got real with him.