Susan and I married right out of college. I became an investment broker dealing primarily in Futures and Commodities, and the first few years were lean ones as I learned my trade. Our financial situation turned around after five tough years, and we'd been married for about eight years when we were able to buy our dream home in a gated, upper-income-level community. I drove a three-year old luxury SUV and Sue drove a small BMW. We were moving up in the world. Everything seemed to be falling into place and the future seemed rosy.
If I could pinpoint the exact day it all began to unravel, was the day about five years ago when I came home and Susan announced that we were invited to dinner. She said one of our neighbors, Carman, had visited during the day and they'd hit it off. She and her husband Raul owned the largest house in our development, a mansion really, a seriously wealthy couple. I'd driven past it several times on my way to the community golf course, and speculated what it must have cost.
Carman had told Susan that both she and her husband were plastic surgeons, mostly specializing in anti-aging practices. She said Carman had disclosed she was in her forties and her spouse was over fifty, but Carmen looked about half that age and was absolutely gorgeous. Since Susan is slender with small to average breasts, I knew she admired women who had firm propionate tits, and that she had toyed with the idea of having hers enlarged a little. It was something I hadn't totally discouraged.
Wednesday evening finally arrived and we set off to the doctor's residence only a few blocks away with a bottle of good wine in hand. The place was even grander than I'd thought. Anti-aging must be a gold mine! The meal was superb and while I found Carman bubbly and charming, her husband seemed somewhat standoffish, but pleasant. Raul was a large, very fit man, standing about six-four. He had a head of thick black hair and dark skin, appearing to be either from South America or maybe somewhere in Asia, like Indonesia. He had an accent but I couldn't identify it and it didn't seem polite to ask at that point.
Carman said she was thirty-five and came from Venezuela, but had lived most of her life in the U.S. She was without a trace of accent, small, beautiful and very well put together. She didn't look a day over twenty-five and Raul at fifty-plus, looked twenty years younger. It was remarkable! After a few glasses of wine the conversation had turned to their profession.
"I have to confess, I had Raul do a little nip-and-tuck on my breasts a couple years past, and have been extremely happy with the results." She smiled, looking cute. "We have both been very pleased with the result."
We all laughed and then Carman said, "Have you ever thought of doing that, Susan?"
Susan blushed, but she answered truthfully. "I have. But . . . well . . . is it painful?"
"Not at all. No after-affects and you should heal in just a matter of a few days. You have nice breasts. All you need is a small lift and I could do it for you in an hour. Raul, don't you think she has nice breasts and the results would be spectacular?"
Raul looked appraisingly at her tits for so long I began to grow uncomfortable. "She's already exquisite, my dear. How does one improve upon perfection? However, it would be very easy for us to do." He smiled, flashing white teeth. It was easy to see how he'd won such a beautiful lady for his wife.
"What would such a thing cost?" Susan asked Carman.
"For you? Not a penny. I have a feeling we will be very good friends, Susan, and this will be my contribution toward that friendship. Because of legal billing, the IRS and partnership agreements, however, I'd need to do it on my own time, away from the office."
We finished the wine and for another hour discussed the operation Susan had always wanted. Susan is already gorgeous and I love her tits, but add another inch or two and she'd be the perfect woman. Shoulder length blond hair, large blue eyes and perfect legs, she drew stares where ever we went. Her best point, being her butt! I felt proud having her on my arm, and loved her unconditionally. Even though I'd put on a couple of extra pounds lately, I knew she felt the same about me.
We decided we'd all take a week off between Thanksgiving and Christmas. We'd all travel to the couple's country home in Maine where Carman would do the operation and have time to observe Susan's recovery for a couple of days, making sure she healed properly. As a bonus our two new doctor friends would balance our testosterone and other values, and give us the same regiment of supplements and herbs that they used to appear so youthful.
We were very excited about Susan's operation and it would be the much-needed long-delayed vacation we'd planned for the past few years. We met at least once a week during the following month for dinner or a night out, or simply to discuss and plan the upcoming trip. Our friendship grew as well.
Finally the big day arrived. We caught a plane ride to Maine and were met at the airport by the couple's driver Darius, who looked like a mountain. He was even larger than Raul, maybe six-six and close to three hundred pounds. His dark almost flat face gleamed like a piece of coal, and when he spoke, which was rarely, he did so politely in a deep soft voice, with a heavy accent.
The ride to their country estate was nearly three hours, the last one through a scantly populated area of mostly hills and trees. We pulled off the main road onto what was obviously a narrow graveled driveway, and drove for another mile. Suddenly, a tall rock wall rose right out of the forest to our front. Darius stopped at the gate and spoke a few words to he guard, and we drove through.
Through flickering Christmas lights lining the driveway, I saw two large dogs sitting in the trees. Guard dogs? They looked to be over a hundred pounds each, with short ears and alert eyes. They made no sound or movement as we drove past - just watching our vehicle with total alertness. I'm scared of dogs and was glad to be inside the vehicle. It was fully dark by the time we arrived at the circle drive, but holiday lights in front lit-up a lodge-like structure that was nearly as large as the other one the couple owned back home. Though rustic, it was beautiful.
Susan hugged my arm, smiling up at me. "We made the right decision, Darling. It'll be like a vacation." That night we dined on quale in wine sauce and other exotic dishes too delicious to describe.
Our rooms were large and luxurious, beds made with high-count Egyptian cotton, a large flat-screen TV, and mini-bar. French doors opened right out onto the patio and pool area. We made love and slept like babies. The next day Darius served us breakfast on the veranda, after which Raul gave me instruction on fly-fishing, something I'd always wanted to try, while Carman measured Susan's breasts and made little marks on her tits with a water marker.
The operation would be in two days and until then, Carman said we should just enjoy ourselves. That evening Darius delivered what appeared to be another wonderful meal. I took a sip of a green liquid that appeared to be some kind of iced-tea, finding it unique and delicious.
"Ummm. What is this?" I asked, indicating the drink.
"It comes from Uganda, made from a root it's a type of their local tea," she told us. "It has a mild narcotic affect sort of like drinking a glass of wine, but otherwise, it's harmless. Darius has it brought in for us. Most people love it. I'll give you some to take back home with you before you leave, if you'd like."
Susan agreed that it was uniquely grand, but I secretly felt it a little too sweet for my taste. So, after the first glass I stuck to wine. Susan obviously loved the stuff and I saw Carman refilling her glass several times throughout dinner. After coffee and desert, Carman said, "I know you're probably still a little tired after your long trip, so why don't we retire to someplace more comfortable for a night-cap?"
We all stood and I saw Susan reach out a steadying hand to grasp the table's edge. From past experience I knew she couldn't drink more than two glasses of anything before she started talking funny. Once, after a friend brought over some Columbian Gold, she'd been so high after just a half a toke that she'd literally zoned-out.
Watching Raul take her elbow and lead her toward the living room I hid my smile, knowing she wouldn't be awake much longer. Carman took my arm as we lagged behind them, Susan wobbling slightly, Raul steadying her gait.
Walking through the study toward the living room, Carman led me to a mantle where several photos of thoroughbred horses formed a grouping. An oil painting of a large black stallion adorned the place of honor. I craned my neck trying to keep tabs on Susan because I knew she might soon pass out. They had already walked through the study into the living room out of direct sight, but I could still see them through a reflection in a large mirror on the far wall. Raul had seated Susan on the sofa and sat beside her. Carman was speaking to me again, so I tried to focus on what she was saying. It seemed that she was speaking from inside a barrel.
"Do you like horses, Brad? That's Storm, my pride and joy. He's won a ton of ribbons! Maybe we can go for a ride tomorrow, if you like."
"Yes . . . uh, yes . . . uh, I do like . . . horse . . . ssss." My tongue felt swollen, my mouth dry as cotton.
