I returned the next week to my therapy class. I told my wife I had been doing great, and that I felt like I was already learning a lot. Honestly, I was just excited to see Debbie again. The woman was all I could think about for the past week. I had problems with my wife because I couldn't stop thinking about big boobs, then when I finally went to therapy for it, there was a goddess of big boobs staring me in the face. This in no way could end well, but I was powerless to stop it. If she asked me to cheat, I didn't think I could say no, especially with her big boobs on the table. I wondered what she would be wearing today. Would it be a low cut white shirt? Her cleavage bulging out of the top, providing more overboob than my wife could ever come up with on her whole chest. How about a tight shirt, one where I could see the curvature of her huge orbs, and only speculate as to how they look underneath? The possibilities were endless.
I got to class early and took a seat amongst the circle. There across the way was Charlotte, skinny as all hell. Normally I wasn't so judgmental, but my senses were in overdrive. Therapy is doing wonders, I guess. She wasn't looking at me, so I took the opportunity to make a mental note of her chest. It was small, flat, normal. Compared to Debbie, she was just a child. Worthless. I thought of the two hugging, Debbie's mammoth bosom mashed against Charlotte's empty chest. And just like that, I was hard. Harder than I could ever be for my own wife. It made me sad, yes, but at the same time, I'm a man, and I can't change how I feel. I waited impatiently for Debbie to show up. She was my real reason for being here.
The teacher had walked in, placing his bag on the table in the back. Some of the other addicts greeted him, asking what the plan was for the day. It was funny seeing them so buddy buddy with him; they needed him to sign off on the completion of the course. The future of their sexual deviance, determined by a guy with an ugly bag in the back of a room. "We'll be performing a trust exercise," He mentioned to one of the addicts. "Probably the most important aspect of recovery is trust. You need to build that level of trust before you can be honest with someone."
"Do you trust me," came a sultry voice from behind me. I turned my head to the voice and found a large pair of breasts bulging out of a white tank top. If ever there was a revealing shirt that showed too much cleavage, it was the tank top. Her delicious curves oozed out of the confines of the fabric, creating an overflow that shined with the lights from above. As my eyes wandered up, I met her lips, luscious and plump, and finally made eye contact. She was looking down at me with a confidence that would be annoying if it weren't so mesmerizing. "Well, do you?"
"Um, yeah, yeah I do," I said, snapping out of it.
"That's good. We'll be paired up again, I know it. I'm going to make it my priority to heal you. Do you want me to heal you?"
"Of course," I said. I was such a zombie it was disgusting. Class was getting started. The teacher approached the center of the circle. Debbie sat next to me, sitting up straight, her heaving bosom sticking out like two basketballs.
"Today, we will be performing some trust exercises. As I was explaining to some of you earlier, trust is key if we're going to make change. The first activity is a pretty common one. I don't doubt that some of you have already done it before. You will break up into pairs. One of you stands in front of the other and falls backwards. The other person catches. Pick the person to catch and the person to fall, I imagine based on size. Don't be a hero, guys! Know your limits, know yourself, and trust in your partners. If I told you last time that you have a permanent partner," he looked at me, "stay with them. If not, come up here and I'll find you a partner. Ready? Go." The room dispersed into pairs.
I turned to Debbie. I was admittedly a lot smaller than she was, which might make this awkward. I was happy that she broke the silence. "So it looks like I'm catching, right?" I nodded in agreement. She puffed her chest forward. "I hope I have enough strength to catch you." We both stood up, her behind me. How was this helping my situation at all? Behind me was a massive pair of breasts that I was about to plunge headfirst into. That was exactly NOT what I needed. I could see how this might work in the general sense, but my specific case was being completely exploited here. "Well, sugar, are you going to drop?" I squirmed a bit. She got close to my ear and whispered to me. "Just trust me. Let my breasts catch you. You know you want to get between them, now's your chance. You have to, or you won't pass the class." I swallowed hard. I think I was sweating. "Here's how this is going to go," she continued. "You're going to fall backwards, into my big tits. You're going to be in heaven. I'm going to hold you there as long as I can. If you're lucky, you might be able to turn your head and get some boob on your nose. That all depends on if I let you or not."
"If you haven't fallen yet, please fall. We need to get through this, everyone," the teacher called out to us.
"You heard the man," she said in my ear. "Fall into me." I sighed and let myself go. I felt like I was in motion for an hour. My wife was at home thinking I was recovering. If she saw the bullshit going on here, we'd be done. My head landed in the soft plushness of her chest, bounced just a little, then began to slowly sink. My head was now being supported be two of the biggest breasts I'd ever seen in person, and I was sinking into them like quicksand. She didn't even need to hold me with her hands, her chest was more than enough to support me. She sat down on a chair, my head now level with her boobs. She wrapped both of her thick arms around me and pulled me in tighter, forcing her tits to jut out in front of me on either side, threatening to swallow me whole. "Kiss one of them," she whispered to me. She took her left hand and pushed in her left breast so it bulged even more on my face.
