There were several reasons why my titty fuck with Danika was so stupendous; in no particular order they were: she had the best tits in the world, as far as I was concerned, not only big and beautiful but the perfect combination of soft and firm; she obviously was enjoying it almost as much as I was given the sounds of pleasure she was releasing and the look of joy on her face; and while I had been reluctant to admit it to myself over the last six months because I saw no possibility of a future with her, I had just come to the realization that I had fallen in love with Danika and had no hesitancy to physically express it now.
When I ejaculated a torrent of cum onto Danika’s chest and chin it was the most powerful feeling that I had ever felt, and her obvious complementary orgasm made it that much better.
When we regained complete cognizance Danika playfully asked “Was that an OK experience for you?”
I grinned, sucked each nipple in turn, and then without verbally answering her started eating her pussy and sucking on her clitoris with a vengeance, as she rubbed my cum on her tits and chin into her skin. After she had another rip-roaring orgasm we retired to the shower and washed each other off while spending way more time that was needed to clean certain body parts. When we finished we each just wrapped a towel around ourselves and had some snacks at my small kitchen table.
“I don’t want to spoil the mood, Danika,” I cautiously started out, wondering if I would be coming on too strong but desperately needing to know some things, “but I really need to know a few things.”
“I’m pretty sure that I know how you feel about me and that you’ll like my responses, so ask away,” she grinned.
“Do we have a chance for a long term relationship?”
“Yes,” she smiled.
“Are you planning to move in with me for an extended period?”
“If you’ll have me, until my divorce is final,” she grinned after sucking some popcorn salt and butter off of her fingers.
“Would it scare you off if I told you that I loved you?”
“I already know that from your body language, and it hasn’t so far,” she replied this time with a truly diabolical look on her face.
“How do you see our relationship progressing?”
“For the rest of today and tomorrow I see it progressing to the point that my pussy is so worn out that I have to walk bowlegged, my tits so mauled that you have to rub lotion on them, your dick so overused that it is red and hurting, and your balls are completely drained. After that we can see what happens next,” she smirked as she rose from her chair, dropped the towel wrapped around her, and stuck one of her tits in my face as she sat on my lap.
Who was I to argue?
Monday morning I did have to rub lotion on her boobs so that her bra wouldn’t hurt, we both walked bowlegged, and permanent smiles were plastered on our faces.
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I had never had a daily romantic relationship before Danika but she made it easy. She was always upbeat, never moody (except when talking about her divorce, but she got over that ten minutes after the topic was dropped), and loving. Since I hadn’t lived with a woman before in a sexual relationship I wasn’t aware that her method of diligently taking care of her breasts was unusual — at least as far as any of my friends’ wives or girlfriends were concerned. However, given the size and beauty of her perfect knockers I didn’t disagree that they required special attention.
It only took two weeks of living with Danika — and then questioning her about it a curious and friendly way — to figure out her routine. First she wore specially made bras. Her boobs were between an E cup and F cup in size, and she wanted something that didn’t pinch or wasn’t loose, and she wanted a perfect texture. I didn’t ask how much they cost, but if they helped maintain her perfection any price was worth it.
As she finished her daily shower she splashed cold water on her boobs. The effect of that was to stimulate circulation of blood and enhance cellular exchange. She normally sprayed the water gently in a circular motion. When I showered with her I was very happy to perform this task for her, and since when I did it I didn’t get any of the rest of her cold she really liked me to assist.
After her shower Danika always moisturized her tits with avocado oil. This was another job that I was happy to take over for her and as long as I didn’t get “carried away” she loved it.
Danika never slept on her stomach, only her sides or back. She also had a healthy carefully controlled diet, which I was happy to adopt too since she did most of the cooking. As she explained it frequent fluctuations in her body weight would leave her breasts looking saggy, and by always eating well and weighing herself naked every morning to make sure she was at her ideal weight, sag was not going to happen
Speaking of exercise, either three or four days a week, without fail, she had a routine that included the following exercises, all designed to keep her chest muscles strong and supple and in turn her breasts toned and sag-free: cobra pose; travelling planks; pushups; assisted pullups; dumbbell chest press, dumbbell fly, and dumbbell pullover on a full size exercise/yoga ball or a BOSU ball; and cable oblique twists.
She also always tried to keep her back straight. I really made a big hit with her by finding a lightweight completely unobtrusive back brace that she could wear at work which always allowed her to keep her back straight without fatigue.
Finally, Danika always applied sunscreen on any part of her breasts that would be exposed, whether just cleavage or her entire chest if she was sunbathing topless.
While Danika really liked it that when we talked I always looked her in the eye, rather than at her chest, she also was thrilled with my assistance in taking care of her boobs, something Jerry never did. She also was really pleased that I revered her boobs every chance I got by gently massaging them or kissing or sucking her nipples, which caused her to giggle. Actually, the most fun that I had in life, aside from burying my dong in her snug pussy or stroking it in the valley between her mammaries, was worshipping her boobs.
While it was Danika’s spectacular body that had first attracted her to me, and while I was eternally grateful for my license to use it for my enjoyment almost whenever I wanted to, the strangest thing happened. During the six months that it took for her divorce to go through. I came to love her personality, wit, and charm even more than her body. I was by far the happiest I’d ever been in my life. The only thing nagging the back of my mind was if she would say “yes” if I asked her to marry me, or if she was — despite her loving nature over those six months — out of my league.
I was pleasantly surprised when she wanted to celebrate — both outside of and in bed — when her divorce came through, and even more so when about a month after her divorce was final she started hinting about some major jewelry. I proposed on a Friday night six weeks after her divorce when we arrived home after a great evening with friends at dinner and a dance club, and even though she never actually said “Yes” I was convinced that was the answer by her body language and emotional reaction when she stuck her finger out for the ring, cried, and then fucked my brains out the entire weekend reducing to a happy blob of protoplasm. We got married a month later in a simple ceremony and with a simple reception that we paid for, and after that I never saw her take her rings off.