It's like this. She's crazy. I can't think of any better explanation. I mean, who would even dream up such a thing except Julia? That's just the way she is. She knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it.
It started innocently enough. I arrived home from work about 8:00 p.m. β a little later than usual β and found my wife and her two closest girlfriends halfway through their third bottle of red wine. It was some site. There was Julia sitting in the middle of the ivory leather couch, her long blond hair hanging in her face, the gorgeous curves of the tops of her tits just barely peaking out through the top of a pink floral tank top, and a grin across her face like the Cheshire cat. She's incredible. My wife. She's absolutely the most beautiful, sensual creature in the world.
To Julia's left sat Terri. Terri and my wife had been in high school together. They were old friends. And they had a habit of getting together and getting drunk. Terri was still single β ten years after high school β having had a long line of boyfriends break her heart. For my part, I couldn't imagine how a man could even think of dumping her. She's hot. She was leaning into my wife, giggling like a schoolgirl as I walked into the house, wearing a pair of the shortest shorts I've ever seen. They left nothing of her legs to the imagination. Her long, tanned legs were crossed neatly at the ankles, and a loose-fitting t-shirt was draped over her somewhat smaller rack. It's amazing how opposite the two of them are. Julia's pale white skin and blonde hair next to Terri's amazingly dark tan and silky, nearly black hair.
"Max. Have a seat!" It was Jenny who called to me. She was sitting to Julia's right. Jenny works for my wife, and they've become very close in the two years they've been working together. Jenny's fiery-red hair always startles me because it's so amazingly different than my wife's long blonde tresses. I've secretly wondered if Jenny had a fiery-red personality to match the hair on her head β and many times fantasized about the fiery-red hair I guessed she had downstairs. It was odd seeing the three of them there. The blonde. The brunette. The redhead. The three sexiest women I knew, and they were all different. So much for having a 'type', I guess.
I took a seat. The three of them giggled and eyed me. "What's up?" I asked, innocently enough.
"I was just going to ask you the same question," Julia replied. The other two giggled again.
"Had some wine tonight, huh?" I smiled. I poured myself a glass, finishing off the third bottle of Merlot.
"Maxβ¦" My wife trailed off.
"Julia?" I looked at her smiling.
"We were talking about our bodies, Max."
"Oh. Is it girl-talk? Do you want me to leave?"
"Oh God, no," Jenny piped up. "Please. Stay."
"We were hoping for your expert opinion, sweetie." Julia winked at me.
"Ah." I slipped my shoes off and kicked them to the side of the room. "How can I help?"
"But you have to be honest," my wife piped up. "You can't pick me just because I'm your wife. You have to tell the truth, ok?"
I didn't know where this was going, but I had a hunch it was going to be fun β¦ wherever it ended up. "I can do that," I replied.
"Okay." Julia said, grabbing for the fourth bottle of wine. "You start, Terri."
"Who's prettiest?" Terri asked. My wife was still fumbling with the corkscrew, so I took it from her nonchalantly and β trying to be cool and calm β worked the corkscrew into the bottle as a cast my gaze over each of the lovely creatures before me.
"Tough one. You want me to be honest, right?"
"Yes." It was Julia, again, who piped up. I think she was afraid that β since she was my wife β I'd pick her. The problem was, wife or not, she was the hottest.
"The thing is," I topped off each of the four glasses, "I am being honest. It's Julia. And not just because she's my wife. It's that hair, hanging in her face. It drives me wild. And her skin is so, so smooth. Don't get me wrong. I think you're three of the hottest ladies I know. But if I could only have one of you, I'd pick Julia."
"That's not fair!" Julia piped in. "It's not about which one of us you want. Just which one of us is the prettiest."
"Well, my dear, believe it or not, I still say you." I took a swig of wine.
"My turn," Julia piped up. "Who's got the nicest tits?"