It started on the drive from my firm's Christmas party. We were half way home when Melissa, my wife of 10 years, turned to me and said, "I can't believe how much you were staring at Cindy's tits tonight. I'm surprised you didn't drool since you were staring that hard."
I had two thoughts immediately hit me. One - yeah, guilty as charged. The boss's admin was dressed to show off even more than she usually was and I definitely wasn't the only one who had noticed. Two - there was far less venom in my wife's voice that I would expect. Even after 10 years together I find my wife incredibly sexy and we've had a passionate and varied love life. Yes Cindy was younger, blonder, and smoking hot but she was no threat to Melissa.
"Babe, you know that she was doing that on purpose. Maybe she's trying to get a Christmas bonus out of Shawn." I referenced a long running rumor that she was sleeping my business partner. Maybe a joke would get this conversation to a safer place.
"That doesn't explain why you were staring, " Melissa had turned in the passenger seat to face me more. "Are her tits that much better than mine?"
If there ever was a trap question, this was it. Melissa knows that she has amazing breasts. My wife has the type of body that used to be painted on the nosecones of World War Two bombers and even as we moved into our late 30s, her breasts remained almost supernaturally high on her chest.
"I was thinking of yours when I was looking at hers, comparing how similar even though she's younger. She can only hope that hers stay nice as she ages, you've got a consistent track record of great tits."
This got the laugh I was aiming for from my wife. "You always did know how to flatter a girl. But are you sure mine are still nicer?"
I turned to confirm just in time to see her unbuttoning her blouse, revealing those glorious mounds encased in a black lacy bra. It took a honk from behind me to tear my eyes away as the light turned green in front of me. I fought to keep my eyes on the road while Melissa continued.
"You think that her tits would feel as good around your cock as mine? That her nipples are as sensitive?" Her voice took on the sultry tone that she knows sends all of my blood directly south. Watching her unclasp the bra from the front and fondle her breasts accelerated that process. "Do you want to fuck her tits, Jason?"
My mouth was too dry to properly answer so I nodded. It had been a while since my wife had been so vocal or so adventurous. It was dark out but I'm certain that other cars could see that she was mostly topless if they looked. She had had the requisite office party drinks but was by no means trashed.
We pulled into the driveway and she didn't even bother to cover up as she walked into the house - saucily turning towards the street and then dropping her shirt to the ground as she stood on the front step. She unlocked the door and turned with a shake of her chest, calling for me to hurry up.
I pounced on her the minute I closed the door behind us, pinning her to the wall and kissing her passionately. I ran my hands down her sides, just brushing my thumbs along the sides of her breasts as they continued south, feeling for the zipper on her skirt. The offending metal clasp discovered, I pulled it down with one hand while pushing the skirt and her panties off with the other. With her basically naked, I finally disengaged my lips from hers to take her in.
"That girl has nothing on you, babe. You're as hot as the day we met." I said honestly. Some people don't age much, my wife was one of the lucky ones. She hadn't picked up extra weight or the start of graying hair like I did, age had only slightly softened her curves and let her work on her strengths.
I started to unbutton my shirt before Melissa uncharacteristically took charge and turned my back to the wall and pushed. She leaned up only slightly, wearing only her heels, to attack my tongue with hers as she took over my undressing. She nearly ripped my shirt from my shoulders once it was freed and immediately moved to my belt buckle. Making quick work of that, she immediately had one hand on my cock over my clothes as she unfastened my pants.
"So you're saying this," she squeezed me firmly, "is just from me? Be honest." She punctuated this with a firmer squeeze with her hand now on my bare dick, causing me to gasp.
"Honestly, seventy percent you, twenty five percent Cindy and the other five percent the hot barista at Starbucks yesterday." I responded as honestly as I could, I assumed rounding the numbers would be close enough.