Appreciated

I am a 34-year-old married mother of two who started reading erotic story sites on the Internet when I was just "wandering around one night," bored and lonely while the kids slept and my husband worked late or worked out of town. I started reading the lesbian stories out of curiosity and the next thing you know I was fantasizing about women, thinking I might have bisexual tendencies and masturbating myself to sleep with my new fantasies of other women. This all happened about the same time I started working out at a gym trying to lose some of the baby fat I put on from two pregnancies. I am 40dd (all natural breasts), but don't be too impressed, because I'm pretty "full figured" in the hips and but as well. I'm not fat, but I do have that extra that many women put on when they have babies and stay home. I started my program by doing aerobics and light weights, and after about three weeks I kept noticing that this young woman was there just about every time I was. I didn't really pay any attention until I started noticing her staring at me, especially in the mirror of the aerobics room.

She was everything I was not -- young (20), strikingly pretty, and very thin and petite. She looked like a cheerleader, with natural blond hair and blue eyes and the cutest little figure. She wore these cute little workout outfits with the thong leotards over her shorts, while I wore bagging shirts and baggy shorts that covered my extra "curves." Over the next couple of weeks, I found myself wondering if she really was staring at me or if it was just my imagination, and I started keeping an eye on her around the gym. Eventually, I realize she was keeping a close eye on me, too, but I figured she was just being thankful that she had her perfect little body, and not mine. But the more I watched her, the more I wondered, and the more I started to fantasize about her at night. I started imaging what it would like to see her nude and touch her sweet little body. I had never even touched a woman in that way before, but I was starting to think about it more and more as I touched myself at night. The more I fantasized about this, the more erotic stories I read and the more time I spent reading about women making love with other women. She made a daily habit of showering and changing in the lockerroom, while I always went straight home. I was too embarrassed to change in front of all those women, but one day I had several errands to take care of and I really needed a workout, so I decided to just make the best of it by going to my workout after my errands.

My kids were at my moms, so I decided to just take my time and wait until the end of the evening when no one else would be there. Wouldn't you know it? She was there that evening, and she came in about two minutes after me. I had hoped to avoid seeing her in the lockerroom, both because I was too scared to show my body and too afraid I might not be able to avoid staring at her. But I went on with my workout, noticing that as women left one by one, we were the only two left. I was exhausted waiting for her to leave, and I finally had to just give up and head to the lockerroom, which I found to be empty. I was sitting in front of my locker when I started to undress. Facing my locker, away from the door, I slipped my T-shirt over my head and started slipping my huge sweaty sports bra over my breasts when all of a sudden she walked in. I almost died, because there I was trying to get my sweaty bra off over my head, with my huge breasts just bouncing out all over the place. She walked directly to a spot just two lockers away, and as I turned away from her in my embarrassment, she smiled and said, 'don't worry, we're all just girls in here. We've all got the same things." Then she stopped, looked down at her own chest, then looked toward my hanging breasts and said, "although some of us have a lot more than others." She was practically staring at my breasts, and I felt my huge nipples getting hard as I muttered something like, "well, being big busted isn't everything.

Some of us would like to be petite and cute and pretty, like you." She smiled and sort of blushed and said, "Thanks, that's sweet, but I really wish I had a better body." "A better body?" I said. "You've got a perfect body." "Perfect," she said. "I feel like a little boy. My chest is flat and my butt is tiny. I can't fill out a shirt or a pair of jeans." "I bet you've got more guys than you know what to do with," I said. "No, not really," she said. "Besides, boys are a pain. Who needs them?" I just continued to sit there with my hard nipples jutting out and this strange feeling between my legs, not knowing what to do as she started to undress. First, she slipped off her leotard, leaving her in her sports bra and lycra shorts. As she slipped off her sports bra, she revealed the sweetest little breasts, round little mounds with perfect little nipples, like cherries on a scoop of ice cream.

She caught me looking and frowned and said, "See I told you. Not much, are they?" I stammered out something like, "They're fine. They fit you perfectly. Besides, you don't know what it's like to carry these things around all day." "I wish I did," she said. "I wish I could be that big, just for one day." "What would you do?" I asked. "I'd spend all day bouncing them and jiggling them and touching them and squeezing." I was shocked to say the least at her boldness, and I was even more surprised when she sort of absent mindedly brushed her hand across her left breast, lingering at the nipple for a few seconds before she smiled at me and said, "sorry if I surprised you. I hope I didn't offend you or anything." "No, no that's fine," I said. "I wish there was someway we could switch places for one day." "Well, there is one way we can sort of see what it's like," she said, with a mischievous smile that made me wonder what she was up to. "What's that," I asked. "This," she said, reaching out gently to place her tiny hands under the heavy weight of my breasts. I almost jumped, partly out of shock and partly out of that jolt that came with my first touch from a woman. She gave my breasts a light squeeze and lifted them both, like she was weighing them and trying them on for size.

She must have heard me moan, because she smiled and said, "Is this OK?" I mumbled "yes" and she squeezed harder, lifting my huge breasts and pushing them together to show my deep cleavage. Then she put her thumbs on my nipples and started squeezing my thick, long nipples as she played with my aching tits. Her hands were so petite that her thumbs were about as thick as my nipples and her palms couldn't even cover my huge pancake-sized areola. The more she squeezed, the more I moaned. After about two minutes, she took me to another level of pleasure when she placed her sweet little mouth on my nipples and started sucking like a baby. She drove me nuts as she sucked, licked and chewed and continue to bounce and jiggle my swollen tits. She lifted them and dropped them, made them sway side and side and played with them until I was so wet I had soaked my panties. Finally she looked me in the eye, and told me, "You are everything I fantasize about. I love your big tits, your round, full ass and your beautiful hips. I watch you every day and go home and night and fantasize about exploring every inch of your beautiful body. I've been with other girls my own age with bodies like mine, but I've never been with a real woman before, and I want you so bad." With that, she kissed me, full and deep, unlike any kiss I had ever experienced with a man. Her kiss melted my defenses, and I knew I had to explore life "on the other side." I wanted her too, and I nodded yes when she asked me to go home with her.

I called my mom in a daze, said I wasn't feeling well and asked her to take care of the kids tonight. Then I went to her apartment (her name turned out to be Rebecca, and she is a 20-year-old college student) and I experienced the most passionate night of lovemaking in my entire life. She practically worshipped me, head to toe. I was no longer chubby with her (like my husband calls me). Instead, I was "voluptuous" and "curvaceous," and everything she wanted. She was so good to me. Even though she's so much younger, she taught me so many things. Her body was so perfect and so athletic that I almost ran home when I saw her naked for the first time. She had a pretty little waist and a cute round butt to go with her perky little breasts, and she had trimmed her blond pubes closely and her pussy looked so perfect, like a little flower. Meanwhile, I had not bothered to trim my dark, hairy bush for about a month and I was almost too embarrassed to spread my legs for her. But she begged me and coerced me with kissed, and I came to find that she also has a thing for big, beautiful women with really hairy bushes.

She ran her fingers through the thick curls and buried her face in it and drove me nuts as she licked every inch of me. By the time she finally got to my clit, I exploded in her face after about 10 light licks. It was the first of countless orgasms that night. She taught me how to finger her and lick her to orgasm too, and she brought out her collection of toys to use on me. Our favorite position was when she pulled on a long, thick pink strap-on dildo about twice the size of my husband's penis and had me sit on her lap, facing away from her, while we faced a mirror. It was the first time I actually felt beautiful and desirable in years, and she really got off playing with my tits from that angle as I bounced up and down on her big dildo. I think she was living out her fantasy of what it would be like to have really big, soft, natural breasts like mine. We've gotten together four times since then and each time is better than the first. She makes me feel beautiful and sexy and I fulfill her fantasy to be with a big, beautiful, busty woman. I haven't told my husband, and I don't plan to. Until he can do what she can do for me, he'll just have to wait.