I met her a little over a decade ago, in high school. I will call her K and she was a friend of my girlfriend at the time, though we often had snarky things to say about her in confidence. There was something about her that could be a bit bourgeois at times and she clearly was accustomed to having her way.
Her father was a local politician and very much spoiled his only daughter and it had very subtle ways of showing. I honestly don't believe she would have realized it, but even her way of speaking had a debutante air. I often found myself sneaking glances at her vibrant blue eyes or her full breasts.
We weren't particularly close then but we shared a group of friends and would occasionally discus books that both enjoyed. Of course, over the next few years we would grow closer. We both went to school for English, which would give us plenty of fodder for discussion.
In the summer of our sophomore year of college, we found ourselves back in our home town so, naturally, we would often meet for coffee or the like. It was all very innocent. We both had been in relationships since Freshman year, which for a young person is forever, but there was a very distinct tension brewing between us and we'd often flirt with thinly veiled jokes.
It's quite stupid how the tension finally boiled over, but the cliched youthfulness of it never fails to make me smile with fond recollection. It was over a game of Mario Kart, of all things.
K was staying with her parents over the summer and they happened to be out on this particular night. We'd had a few of our friends over earlier, but they'd left fairly early for some reason or another, leaving just the two of us.
Her parents, as you may have guessed, are modestly wealthy and have a large and very well stocked bar in the corner of their living room, which was most inviting to two young college students. She poured two vodka & cranberries (not my first choice, but she didn't really ask...) and we drank them while we played Mario Kart, of which she was far better and more experienced.
It was K who introduced the first of several wagers. She decided that if she one, I must give her a message. Sure, I agreed, adding my own stipulation. If I were to win, then she had to model some lingerie that we had previously discussed. Apparently, her mother had given her this lingerie at the start of the summer, which we both thought was pretty strange. We had a good laugh about it, but the thought of her wearing some of the things she showed me had been on my mind ever since. She was reluctant, but confident enough to agree.
And whether it was dumb luck, shaky nerves, or my own passionate resolution, I had finally, and for the first time ever, beaten her at that stupid game. But then, perhaps, maybe she had lost on purpose?
"Okay, fine. But I'm going to wear my underwear underneath it..." she said, her ivory-pale skin blushing.
"Nope. That's not how lingerie is meant to be worn." I responded, but assuming still that she would wear her bra and panties beneath the sheer lingerie.
She left the game room for her bedroom and closed the door. I sat there for what felt like hours, wondering if she would, in fact, go through with it. It seemed to good to be true, and she did seem to be taking her time. Was she having reservations?
After an excruciating wait, I heard her open her bedroom door. Now, at thirty years of age, I can still recall with perfect clarity the vivacious anticipation that I have seldom felt after my early twenties. My entire body was warm and my head was spinning, in part, I'm sure, due to the four or so generous cocktails, but mostly because of my libido which was spreading through my body like wildfire.
The fit was quite tight. Her massive breasts almost spilled over, like a glass of milk overflowing. She moved slowly, deliberately, as if any sudden movement would free them from their lacy restraint. K smiled and rolled her eyes as she spun around, her near-naked white ass flashing all too briefly before me. It took every bit of my will to not bury my face in the cleave of her breasts, or in the cushion comfort of her ass. I'd always known her to have wide hips, but to see them on full display sent me reeling. I couldn't think of anything to say for a minute or so. I just knew I wanted more.
"Another round?" I asked, devilishly. I was referring to the video game, but she took it to mean another drink. She gathered up our glasses and we walked together to the bar where she filled them, again, quite generously. Neither of us said anything. We only smiled, occasionally biting our lips. She seemed to delight in the power she was holding over me.
We did play another round. I don't even recall what was wagered or if we even did wager. We were now both pretty drunk and incredibly horny. As much as I hate to use the cliché "one thing led to another..." but that's about the measure of it. Maybe I kissed her? That must be it. I must have pulled her toward me, uninhibited, a man possessed.
We tore at each other without abandon, with years of curiosity leading us to this point. It was frenzied, mad, most likely very clumsy. She sank down from the couch and took my cock between her soft breasts. Still, to this day, I've never encountered such perfect breasts. They maintained the same shape out of the lingerie as they did within, despite their massive size.
She didn't break eye-contact with me the entire time she bounced her tits on my lap. Her mouth hung open, stupidly, as mine did, I'm sure, and our breathing seemed to be synchronized. I remember thinking "I love you" in my head, and honestly wondering if I hadn't said it out loud, awkwardly.
"Stop, you're going to make me cum!" I said, breathlessly. But she ignored me. She just kept staring at me with those perfect blue eyes, her lips parting as if she were speaking but making no sound.
