Out of the Bra and Into the Fire

A little background on a great life that just got even better. My wife is gorgeous and has a great body, but you would never notice it. She grew up in a very strict Christian home and still holds to many of the values that were instilled in her in those days. She’s one of those very meek, plain, and conservative women that look like a homeschool kid who just got taller and grew some boobs. Her typical decor is very light makeup, if any at all, a loose fitting shirt that doesn’t even approach showing any cleavage, and a long skirt that often is all the way down to her ankles. She’s fairly pale, with just a light natural tan. She keeps her hair long and straight, it’s natural chestnut color and shine popping despite her near inattention to it after combing it out in the mornings. Even her name, Nora, fits the narrative.

Her values also apply in the bedroom. She was raised to view sex as a purely utilitarian activity with the sole purpose of conception. There’s no experimentation, and the idea of anything kinky is completely out of the realm of possibility most of the time. Blowjobs are a non starter as they don’t fulfill the mandate of conception as the only goal of sex. With all of that said, her body is phenomenal. Fit, tight, curves in all the right places. I’m 30, she’s 28, and despite just having our 3rd child about 6 weeks ago you would never know she had been pregnant if we weren’t dragging him along with us everywhere we go.

Nora is about 5’7”. Her eyes are hazel and sparkle at all times. Her smile is brilliant, overwhelming everything else around her when it makes its appearance. She’s modest, but her body is lean and strong. I’m the only one who sees it, but her perfect ass could stop traffic and her thighs are smooth and strong, reaching their peak sensuality when she crosses her legs. She’s not muscular, but her stomach is flat and firm, her arms are sinewy from working with three little ones all the time and the seriousness that she approaches her desired housework and gardening.

The real prize though, are her tits. They’re a full C cup, actually probably a small D cup, but like everything else she doesn’t show them off and wears full coverage D cup bras that have a little room in them. Her nipples have grown to probably half an inch when erect due to the kids sucking on them over the last several years. She produces ridiculous amounts of milk, so much that she donates bottles weekly to a local organization that distributes them to mothers who struggle to produce enough and can’t afford formula. Even so, they’re still as firm as the day I finally got to see them. Most of the time, that’s all I get to do, but on rare occasions she actually gets so into our lovemaking that she lets me suck on them for a few minutes before she gets back under control and puts an end to it. Those brief, fleeting moments are worth it though.

While we don’t always agree on everything, we do share the same basic beliefs. I trust her to take care of the day-to-day things with the kids and she doesn’t complain at all that I work extra hours to provide since it was her idea to be a homemaker. It actually works quite well, even if it’s not the social norm anymore. Nora is adored within our circles and gets along well with people of all walks of life despite her preferences. I’ve seen her strike up a conversation at the local coffee shop effortlessly with a young couple whose lifestyles were clearly a few standard deviations away from our own, and end with a hug and well wishes all around. It’s fascinating to see from this otherwise nondescript woman whom I believe most people in public are barely even aware of.

Our oldest is in her third year as part of our homeschool co-op, and this is where the story really begins to unfold. Nora was the centerpiece to this group of mostly moms. She organized everything, was the life of the party as much as there was one, and despite never showing it off I think she understood that she was the hot one. And she really was the hot one. The others were varying degrees of what you probably expect from a group of women and men like that. Frumpy, prone to only associating with their own bizarre cultural bubble, and determined to enforce their view of the world in the most minute and legalistic manner possible. That’s where Chantel comes onto the scene and slowly, brazenly disrupts everything.

Chantel was so many things that didn’t fit the mold that I’m still not sure how she became part of the group. She was a single mom, and even though she wouldn’t discuss it the group gossip was that she was divorced. She seemed younger than most of the moms there, leading the gossips to construct stories about how she probably had the kid out of wedlock, suckered the guy into marrying her, and then couldn’t keep a man with the way she flaunted herself everywhere. And she did flaunt herself, at least compared to the rest of the group.

She was maybe an inch shorter than Nora and had a superbly fit body that she clearly worked at. I can say that because there were times where she would show up to pick her kid up on days when we were hosting the co-op wearing ultra tight workout clothes and still glistening with sweat. She often showed up wearing a skirt or shorts that barely covered her ass. Her tops rarely concealed anything above the areolas, showing enough jiggle to confirm that they were real while also suggesting impressive firmness. And she was busty. Maybe a bit less so than Nora, but she was stacked. Her tan belied her multiethnic background, her naturally sultry and smoky appearance, and her willingness to enhance it. Her glossy black hair simply completed the picture in the most perfect of ways. I tried not to compare them, but when I heard that she also had an infant still on the tit, I wondered just how firm she was compared to my wife.

I had never wondered this about another woman before. Most women in Nora’s league were not part of our social circle and rarely observed for more than a few fleeting moments before life moved on. The other women in the group were clearly inferior. Seeing how Nora minimized her assets, I feel comfortable in that conclusion as I’ve unintentionally trained myself to discern what’s really there. Maybe the biggest issue was how naturally flirtatious the newcomer seemed to be. Like most of the men I tried to discount it but the women were increasingly furious, led by my wife who I think was subconsciously bothered by being upstaged a bit.

Despite all that I’ve said so far, Chantel was sweet and as far as I know never actually made a play for any of the men in the group. When we did couples get togethers, she always showed up with someone different, but none of them were the kind of douchebag bros that you would pick up at a bar. All of them were good guys who had good jobs and could hold a conversation on just about any topic. Chantel was actually more reserved in her appearance around them than she was the homeschool group which I think actually angered the jealous women even more.

Over the weeks and months, we began to learn more and more about the new woman. Her husband, whom she married right out of high school, was an Army Ranger who was killed in a training accident just a few months before she appeared in our circle. Her oldest child was born 10 months after her wedding date, putting to rest one of the most persistent rumors among the clucking hens. She was a dancer and cheerleader in high school and a yoga and fitness instructor now, explaining her clothing from time to time and the fit, athletic frame she showed off most of the time. You would think that would squelch the potential issues, or at least buy her some leeway, but understanding and sympathy were nowhere to be found.

The tipping point happened one evening when we were hosting the co-op again and Chantel had car trouble after work that made her later than usual for her pickup. Nora acted compassionate outwardly, offering to feed Chantel’s oldest and have him start working on that day’s homework with our children, but I could see her fuming as she spoke to the other mom over the phone. When the younger mom finally showed up, she was still dressed in her workout clothes from work. The kids were still in another room working together on their lessons, and before I could summon Chantel’s child I heard the first words that sent events spiraling towards their inevitable outcome.

“If you’re going to be so late, couldn’t you at least have the decency to cover up instead of flaunting yourself in front of my husband?”

“Excuse me? I’m wearing what I wear to work every day. Just because you’re some frigid prude that doesn’t mean I’m going to dress like it’s 1852 just to come pick my kid up.”

“Well, maybe that’s why your situation is what it is.”

“And what is my situation you judgemental shrew?”

“A different man with you every time someone feels sorry enough to invite you to something with the other parents. Maybe if you didn’t advertise the goods like a billboard you’d be able to get someone interested enough to stick around.”

I had never heard Nora talk to someone this way before. Before Chantel I hadn’t even really heard her talk about someone this way. I thought about stepping forward to intervene as the younger mom stepped up to my wife like she was going to go nose-to-nose with her, but I stopped just as suddenly as Chantel stopped due to the impediment that kept the woman from getting in each other’s faces.

Four big, beautiful breasts squared off and kept the women at a distance. Chantel looked down quickly, looked over at me and saw me gulp at the sight of the compressed bosoms, and then returned her gaze to Nora with a feral grin emerging on her face.

“Oh, so that’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Even though you’re a frigid little prude, you’ve always gotten to enjoy having the biggest boobs in your little group and you don’t like being replaced. I bet Scott’s a tit man and you like that, even though you probably don’t even let him enjoy them very often. You’re scared that now that he’s seen a better pair he won’t want your ugly, fat boobies anymore. Don’t worry Nora, if I wanted your man I would have taken him by now, but I’m not that type of woman. I respect what you two have even if it’s not for me, but if you insult me or insinuate things about me again I’m going to show both of you just how much better my rack is than yours. Scotty, get over here and get your wife out of my way before I squash her flat.”

Nora was furious. She was actually shaking when I finally got Chantel’s son out of the house and went to check on her. She sat at the edge of our bed with tears starting to form in her eyes, barely able to blink them back when she saw me. Try as I may, there was no calming her down, so I tended to the kids until they were off to bed giving the excuse that mommy isn’t feeling well. After tucking the last one in, and making sure the little one had a bottle and burp, I cautiously made my way to the bedroom completely unsure of what to expect.

Of the various options running through my mind, none of them was what I walked in on. There was Nora in a bra and panty set I had never seen before. No, it wasn’t some stunningly skimpy, erotic thrill set, but it wasn’t the same old thing either. Still a simple white, the bra actually fit her properly and showed a little bit of the top of her cleavage. It was conservative for most women her age, and most women her bust size, but it was a departure from the full coverage I had always seen her wear before. The panties were also a plain white, and while they also weren’t daring for most women, they showed a hint of the curve at the bottom of her perfectly shaped cheeks. Not knowing what to say, I simply closed the door and sat on the bed.

“I sent her a text, apologizing for what I said.”

“Is everything okay then?”

“No. She wasn’t accepting of the apology. Said she wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“Well, it’s still fairly soon afterwards. Maybe she just needs a little more time to cool off.”

“I called her, hoping that I could convince her that I was truly sorry. She said she believed me, but she didn’t care. That women like me have always looked down on her even though she was a good wife and mother, and she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.”

“She didn’t threaten you, did she?”

“Not exactly. She started talking about our boobs again and how she’s so sure that hers are better. She said that she knows it, I know it, and you know it, but she won’t be satisfied until she proves it.”

“Honey, yours are the best and I already know that. You know how hard I try to get at them all the time. There’s nothing that could possibly change my mind.”

“I know, but she struck a nerve that I didn’t know was there. I have always been proud of them even though I don’t shove them in everyone’s face all the time. I would never have admitted it, but something about that woman really gets under my skin and makes me rethink some things.” Supposedly changing topics she continued, “Oh, um, Saturday night we’ll keep little Brandon here while Erin and Sarah stay with my mother. Maybe have some us time.”

Nothing could have prepared me for that night. Our two older kids left with my stepmother for a night of being spoiled the way grandkids should be, and I became cautiously optimistic that I was getting some with the little signs of affection that Nora was showing me that were different from the norm. I was actually starting to think that I needed to thank Chantel for that little confrontation with my wife that apparently got her out of her shell a little bit. I had no idea just how far out of that shell she would come that night.

The doorbell rang around 8pm, probably 90 minutes after we had finished dinner. Not more than 10 minutes earlier Nora had excused herself to go upstairs and said she would be back in a few minutes. I got up to answer the door and was dumbfounded to see Chantel there, dressed in her typical workout clothing, carrying her youngest in a car seat.

“Can I come in Scott?”

I had just stared at her at first, trying to make sense of why she was there, and forgot to invite her in. “Of course, come right in.” There, I actually said the right thing. Now there was the other thing I needed to say. “What brings you by tonight, Chantel?” I honestly had no clue, mostly because the answer was so absurd that even if I had thought of it I would have been mortified to verbalize it and be wrong.

“Good, it looks like Nora kept her big mouth shut the way I asked her to.”

No sooner had she said that I heard my wife entering the room behind me. I turned and saw her looking just like she had before which was the same way she always looked. Loose fitting top, long skirt, very little makeup. Just like always. Except, as I think back on it, it looked like her cheeks might be a flushed a bit.

“Hi Chantel, glad you could make it. You can follow us upstairs and put Jordan down in the extra crib.”

With that she turned and began walking upstairs with me following dumbly behind her. Okay, she set up the extra crib which explains why her cheeks were flushed, but I couldn’t figure out why she set up the extra crib? What in the world was going on? Chantel put her little one down in the crib and Nora told me to give them a minute, so I stepped out of the room. Just a few seconds later my wife joined me in the hallway and led me back downstairs to our living room. I asked her what was happening and she simply told me to wait a minute and I would find out. And find out I did. Chantel walked down the stairs with one of our baby monitors in hand, set it down on an end table, and began to inform me of the reason she was there.

“Your wife is the same kind of woman who has always crapped all over me, and tonight it stops. She tried to weasel out of this, thinking I was dumb enough to believe her apology was sincere, but it was too late and I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She’s a snobby, arrogant, condescending prude who acts like her shit doesn’t stink, and I’m going to teach her a lesson tonight. She’s so proud of those fat boobs she doesn’t even have the courage to show off, but mine are better and tonight I’m going to use mine to slap hers silly until she begs me to stop. This isn’t over until the winner accepts the loser’s submission. You’re going to get to see something special tonight, and after I win you’re going to see something else special, isn’t that right Nora.?”

“Honey, she wouldn’t take no for an answer and I figured this was better than pulling hair and punching each other in the face. This loose whore wouldn’t settle for anything else and she made an offer I couldn’t refuse. If she beats me, she gets to breastfeed both infants in front of me and you, and can come over and feed Brandon in front of us any time she wants. When I beat her, and I will, she’s taking her kid out of the homeschool group and disappearing from all of our lives. You’ve always told me how great my breasts are, and tonight you’re going to see me prove it just this once. Now stay out of it until it’s over.”

The next thing that happened truly shocked me, even more than the words I was still trying to process. Nora quickly tied her long, chestnut hair into a ponytail, and then began to disrobe. First, she took off her skirt, revealing a black thong that was actually modest for a thong but was impossibly daring for my wife. She then quickly took off her shirt to reveal a tight, lacy black bra that lifted her boobs and showed a canyon of cleavage that she had never accentuated before. Noticing my slack jawed stare she allowed herself a blush and a smile before releasing the front clasp of the bra and sliding it off, revealing her large, firm breasts with her nipples at full erection. I wish I could recount Chantel’s initial reaction to the sight, but I was barely aware that the sultry fitness mom was still in the room. That lack of awareness changed pretty quickly.

“Wow. Those are almost perfect. Too bad for you though, because mine are perfect and they’re going to milk your fat udders and leave them hanging all the way down to the floor.”

There was a venom beginning to be uncovered in the single mom’s voice, but the almost lusty glare was one filled with confidence that what she was saying was true. Without ceremony or flair, the younger mom began to disrobe as well. She peeled down her yoga pants, exposing two very strong looking legs with a muscular ass that looked stronger than Nora’s but not as attractive. Her tiny emerald green thong was barely visible in front or back, allowing as much perfectly tanned flesh to be exposed as possible without technically being naked. The low cut top came off next, revealing a matching bra that barely restricted the large globes that would soon be assaulting my wife’s pair. She then reached behind her back with both arms, causing her breasts to bulge obscenely against their confinement, and released the clasp before quickly covering the bra cups with her hands and leaving her boobs temporarily covered. A quick look to me, accompanied by a wink, preceded the dropping of the bra to the floor and the arching of the back to make them appear as intimidating as possible.

Chantel wasn’t lying about her own breasts being gorgeous. They were definitely a full C cup as well, but to my untrained eye they seemed slightly smaller and less full than my wife’s. They were devoid of tan lines, or even the hint of slightly lighter flesh, giving insight into her tanning habits. The nipples were, much like the flesh, significantly darker than my wife’s but they also appeared a bit shorter and less full than Nora’s. The younger woman’s tits also seemed to sit slightly lower on her chest, but not enough to think of it as a real advantage for either pair. The primary physical differences between the women were their skin tone and muscularity. Nora was strong, fit, and lean, but Chantel was more defined everywhere, the evidence of her job being more focused on tone than Nora’s daily activities that were more functional for developing solid strength. I had no idea if that would play a role in things, but I was so laser focused on the absurd situation in front of me that my every sense seemed heightened to a level never achieved before or since.

The women walked into each other, chest to chest, and stood there staring at the clash of boobs for a few seconds before the talk began.

“Just like the other day, we can both feel it. My boobs are better than yours, Chantel, and are already pushing them back. You’re going to learn that you can be a beautiful woman with a great body without flashing everything you’ve got around like a common whore.”

“In your dreams bitch. Yeah, your tits are a little bit fatter than mine, but mine are firmer and better and they’re going to empty your sacks in front of your husband. He’s going to blow his load watching me dominate his frigid cow of a wife.”

“You’re going to leave this house with some humility and leave our lives after my better breasts beat yours. None of the other women are going to have to deal with a cheap floozy flirting with their husbands and setting a horrible example in front of their children. Everybody knows I’m a better person than you and tonight I’m going to prove I’m a better woman with better boobs than you could ever dream of.”

Chantel was apparently tired of the talk at that point and began the fight in earnest. She pulled back slightly and slammed her boobs forward into Nora’s. Despite initiating the contact, Chantel’s boobs seemed to take more of the blow and she grunted at the impact. Nora answered back and immediately put the younger wife on her back foot. It appeared that, despite having the more muscular body, Chantel wasn’t quite as strong as my wife. The first few minutes of the fight featured much the same result with Nora’s boobs taking the head on blows better and the fitness trainer losing ground with nearly every clash. Nora’s breasts flesh showed more reddening on the front than their counterparts, but that could easily be chalked up to the difference in natural skin color.

The feeling of pride I was beginning to feel about Nora’s great rack never went away, but my sense that she might win this thing started getting chipped away at pretty quickly. Chantel realized she wasn’t going to be able to just plow through my wife’s tits, so she put her dance and cheer trained athleticism to use. The younger woman began changing angles with her strikes, avoiding direct contact with Nora’s bigger boobs. Her first new tactic was to dip down and swing her breasts into the undersides of my wife’s pair, driving the bigger rack up and causing it to smack back down onto the chest. The move worked in that it stunned her opponent enough that Nora just stood there and took three more of them before she tried to counter the move.

Nora’s response was to try and bend down low enough to make it difficult for Chantel to swing up into the undersides of her boobs, but the sultry woman just lifted onto her tiptoes and smashed her firm boobs onto the tops of my wife’s, knocking Nora down to a knee. No sooner had she started to rise up than the young woman slammed her boobs forward, still striking the tops of the opposing pair, the momentum and lack of balance combining to send my wife tumbling onto her backside on the floor. Nora’s chestnut hair was starting to fly everywhere and as she scrambled to get to her feet she couldn’t reset herself quickly enough to keep from getting knocked over again with another chest butt.

Again my wife scrambled to her feet, only to be caught in a bearhug by her opponent. To my amazement, Nora’s boobs still seemed to have an advantage at the point of contact, but I quickly saw the change the shots to the top and bottom of them had done. Chantel was able to use her boobs to push the bigger, paler pair around the older mom’s chest, showing that the supporting tissue had taken some serious damage during the onslaught. This new movement was painful enough to draw a groan out of Nora and a smile from Chantel as her confidence grow.

“Feel that you frigid cow? I’m already beating your cow tits up Bessy, I can’t wait to squeeze the milk out of them and leave them flopping around like the useless udders they are. My tits are going to beat the self righteousness out of yours right along with their milk. If you’re nice to me after I finish humiliating you, I might even fill up a bottle or two for your little brat since there’s no way he’s going to take to your tit after he’s had the best.”

Nora tried to squeeze and grind her tits into Chantel’s strongly enough to keep them from being pushed around, but the fit mom was strong enough to break free and begin using another tactic that put her athletic advantage to use. The dark skinned MILF started to swing her torso from the side, causing the women’s breasts to impact at the sides, her slightly looser pair slapping loudly against my wife’s fuller pair. At first it looked like the paler tits were just going to take the hits from the side without much effect, but after a half dozen or so passes from each side, I noticed the bigger pair starting to wobble and ripples of flesh starting to cross each big boob when it got hit.

As had been the case for several minutes now, my wife tried to match the moves of her opponent. The problem was, despite being in good shape and possibly being slightly stronger, Nora couldn’t move with the grace and agility of the other woman. My fighter’s movements were more stilted and utilitarian, good enough to get the job done by awkward and ineffectual compared to her foe. She landed some blows, and every time it looked like her boobs did more damage than Chantel’s could with a single strike, but she was clearly getting winded much more quickly than the younger woman.

As the battle continued, the tit advantage I perceived for my wife began to slowly shift in favor of the other woman until finally a strange new sound took the fight to another level. I heard one woman breathlessly say yes, and saw the other finally show signs of distress. Chantel lined her nipples up so that they were directly below Nora’s and applied a loose bearhug for pressure. She pressed her tips into the areolas of my wife and was rewarded by a wet, sloshing sound as the first signs of milk appeared between the chests. Nora had sprung a leak in her right boob, or more accurately had it inflicted upon her by Chantel’s excellent rack, and the look on my wife’s face was one of despair. Her opponent was beginning to do exactly what she said she would and both fighters realized it.

“There it goes Nora. There goes one of your milk bags getting drained by my much better boobs. I hope this takes a while because I’m enjoying teaching you some respect. Little Brandon isn’t going to know what to do with milk that isn’t old and sour like yours. He’ll be as happy and full as he’s ever been when he tastes my sweet, exotic nectar. No frigid old cow can compare with me. You knew that all along but you’re so arrogant and condescending that you just couldn’t admit that I’m a better woman than you where it really counts. I bet you’re going to cry your eyes out for days. Even better, the rare times you let Scott touch your body you’re both going to be thinking about how I’m better than you.”

The next several minutes featured more of the same. Chantel was conscious of not ending up in a matchup of pure strength, even though Nora was losing energy and the will to fight, varying her attack to completely dominate my wife’s boobs. My wife tried to quit several times only to have her tormentor refuse the request. Chantel simply replied each time that she had promised to milke Nora dry, and she wasn’t going to stop until her promise was kept. The end came fairly quickly. Once again Chantel got her tits nipple first into Nora’s areolas, pushing my wife’s boobs up slightly, and began grinding into them. The two big, pale breasts starting squirting her precious white liquid all over the tops of the pair that was invading their space. When she finished pumping the milk out of the mother of my children, Chantel whispered something to her and then went for the emotional kill as well.

“Who got her boobs milked like the worthless cow she is?”

“I did.”

“Who was wrong about her tits being better?”

“I was.”

“Whose kid is going to feed on the best tit he’s ever had tonight?”

“Mine is.”

“Why is he going to do that?”

“Because your boobs beat the milk out of mine and made them useless. My son would starve if he was hungry right now and my boobs were the only ones here. I would fail him as a mother because my breasts aren’t good enough.”

“Who’s going to know my tits are the best in the room when we’re together from now on?”

“I am.”

“Who else?”

“Scott will.”

“Why will Scott know it?”

“Because he watched your better boobs smash mine flat and milk them.”

“Good, now let’s all go upstairs so I can take my spoils and give your little brat the best tit he’s going to taste in his entire life.”

I don’t know if it was the right thing to do, but since they had both agreed to this and things seemed to be under control, all I did was follow them upstairs. Doing so gave me another chance to compare their nearly nude forms and I honestly came to the conclusion that my wife’s body is better. Her ass is better, her hips more womanly, her legs just as strong without the extra muscle, her arms and shoulders more feminine, etc. I just didn’t see a single place where Chantel was better, even after the titfight. Once we got into the room, the younger mom resumed her triumphant bitchiness.

She sat down and immediately put her son, Jordan, in her arms and popper her right tit into his mouth. The boy came to life, sucking as if it was the only thing he looked forward to in life, the moment the nipple slipped past his lips. Looking at my wife, the other woman started barking orders, “bring your brat over here and hold him so he can get a taste of a real woman’s tit.”

Nora sheepishly did exactly as she was told, her head hanging down the entire time. Brandon added to Nora’s pain as he latched onto the strange breast with delight and sucked like I had never seen him do before. That was the tipping point for my wife whose tears of pain earlier were nothing compared to the tears of shame and horror from what she was seeing. Chantal kept her eyes directly on my wife, glowing with a huge smile as she watched the last bit of opposition drain from her countenance.

“I didn’t want to do this to you. I haven’t had to use my boobs like this since high school when I beat the tits off of stupid, jealous cheerleaders and dancers who couldn’t accept another busty girl being around. I wanted to be friends. I wanted to fit in as much as I can. I wanted my kids to have a better environment to grow up in than I did. Instead I ran into another bully and had to beat her boobs to get her to leave me alone. This better be it. If I ever have another problem with you, I’m going to show up at your door and next time your little brat won’t be the only one feasting on my far better tits. Scott has already seen that my tits are better, and that boner he’s been sporting since I started beating yours up says he likes it, and if you push me again he’s going to experience them firsthand.”

With that she pulled her tit out of our child’s mouth, finished feeding her own son, and then got everything together and left, taking Nora’s new bra with her without the slightest protest from my wife. After seeing the other mom out, I quickly returned upstairs to find Nora lightly sobbing on the bed, still clothed in nothing but the new thong she had worn for the evening. Not knowing how to comfort my wife, or even if I could, I decided to just lay down beside her. She quickly flipped to the other side, placing her back to me, and I thought that would be about as close as we got all night before my wife began speaking to me.

“Did you really like seeing her boobs beat mine like that?”

Knowing she can see through my lies without even trying, I answered honestly, “it was hot, but it would have been even better if you had won.”

“But I didn’t. Her boobs beat mine and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Honey, she has done this before and it still took all of the tricks she knew to win. When you first went boob to boob, yours were clearly winning. You know it, I know it, and she knew it too. That’s why she did everything she could to avoid going straight on against your boobs until all the other stuff she did had worn them down. If it was just about whose boobs could squash whose, you would have beaten her easy.”

Nora did the unthinkable, reaching back to grab one of my hands and pull it up to cup one of her sore, beaten boobs. Taking the queue that she liked what I was saying, and actually agreed with it, I pressed on.

“It’s not just your boobs that are better. I saw both of your bodies in nothing but a thong. She’s more muscular, but that’s it. Your boobs are bigger and better, your body looks more feminine, your hips are more womanly, your legs are better, and your butt is better. You’re so much sexier than she is, and I think that intimidates her because of how hard she tries to get everyone to notice her body. If she didn’t have all those years of athletic activities, you would dominate her body in every way.”

Nora said nothing and for a moment just laid there while I gently kneaded the one boob I had access to. Suddenly my beautiful, timid wife turned to face me again and slid her thong down, leading to the first sex we had ever had that wasn’t solely to try and have a child.

I woke up alone in the bed the next morning, and found a note on the nightstand from Nora. It simply said, “gone to try out an aerobics class, be back by noon.”