Wingman 3

Intro

Dancing Queen gets bagged.

Romance.

The Club

Yvonne watched Allison move onto the dancefloor, attached by the hand to Ronan, and sighed with relief. She shuffled as deeply into the padding on the bench seat as she was able; which, coincidentally, moved her a little closer to Luke.

She didn't have the courage to dispense with the other eighteen inches of space, and drape herself -- as she longed to do -- over him.

So, turning her head to face him, she watched as he gazed at his friend and her friend as they didn't quite wrap themselves around each other.

Luke sighed.

"Your mate's out there with my friend, dancing."

"I can see that."

"She's the one with the big tits, and she's dancing with your friend."

Luke flicked his gaze to her, then returned it to the couple under discussion.

"I can see that too."

She couldn't really keep the acerbic tone from her voice, "Aren't you fed-up with always being dumped with his leavings?"

He turned a blank expression towards her, "Eh? What leavings?"

"Me!"

"How're you his leavings?"

"

I'm

the one with small tits!"

"Huh... yeah." and, with what appeared to be a frown, he looked back towards their friends, who now, for this slower dance, had their arms around each other.

"Don't you get tired of being his wingman?"

"How am I his wingman?"

"Well, it looks like you get to pick-up '

little tits

' -- while Ronan claims the '

big tits

' prize."

"You reckon?"

"Course! He

is

the one with Allison."

"Yea-aH!"

OK! So he wasn't much of a talker, but he wasn't showing any discomfort from his situation.

"Why do you let him drag you in here, and then don't try to compete?"

"Didn't need to. Competition was resolved before we even got here."

"And you still came, even though you knew he'd get Allison? Man! That makes you some wingman!"

Luke shuffle around a bit which brought him closer to her, as well as facing her. Her heart sped up.

He really was dishy; so, as her heart sped up, her mouth felt dry; and her knickers started to feel damp; but it was a pity he was pining for Ally's big tits.

And

there

it was! The frown as he looked at her; the rejection she had been expecting.

"I'm sorry, Yvonne, but what exactly do you think is happening here?"

"Bloody obvious, isn't it? You two come out on the pull; Ronan's the pushy one, so he gets the dishy prize bird, and you, his wingman, are here to tackle the ugly one, the vulture; and keep her out of his hair.

"So, in this case, Allison is the prize Bird -- 'cos she's got the big tits -- and I'm the vulture, 'cos I've got the little tits!"

Evil bastard -- he was laughing at her! He had this evil grin! She wasn't a violent person, but she was tensing herself to deliver the Slap-of-the-Year.

"Oh, Yvonne! I'm sorry that you've read this ... like

so

wrongly."

"Oh, yeah? And how's that?"

Coming Clean

"Well for a start -- I'm not

his

wingman ... he's

mine.

"

"Fuckin' likely story!

He's

the one dancing with Big Tits!"

"Ohhh, yes!

"But here, let me explain ...

"I came in here a couple or so months ago. And spotted

you

. Not difficult -- you weren't hard to miss that night. Long sparkly, shiny legs, descending from a tight little shiny dress; and silver cage stilettoes; long silvery-white hair; very dark lipstick, and heavy mascara with silver eyelids.

"And the way you moved! It was the first time -- in my life, I swear it -- that I've ever got a hard-on looking at a snake -- the way you oozed yourself around that dancefloor. And you looked so happy! You came close to me at one point as I stood at the bar. That's when I heard your throaty chuckles -- God, you sounded hot. And then you started talking to Allison, and your voice had a nice warm tone, though I couldn't actually hear what it was you were saying, but your voice wasn't squeaky.

"In the dimness around the bar, I had you pegged as a prematurely grey-haired woman in her maybe mid-to-late thirties, out on the town with a younger work colleague -- that is, Allison -- and I was overawed.

"I mean -- what chances did I have with a

hot

older woman, even if she did look ten to fifteen years younger? And probably married -- though it never occurred to me to check for rings.

"While you were here that evening, I spent the whole time near the bar, nursing one pint, and I watching you as much as the crowded dancefloor allowed. I couldn't take my eyes off you long enough to queue to buy another drink.

"You turned me into your worshipper. As you left, I followed you to the door. Your cab went one way, and I went the other, back to my car."

Throughout this 'offloading', Yvonne sat there with a blank, but absorbent mind.

Well, maybe not exactly absorbent. But with an attempt at absorbing this story.

"And my lack of tits didn't bother you?"

"Couldn't tell. Your dress had a cowl neckline."

"Oh, yeah, that one. I wear it to disguise fact I don't have any."

"Well it works."

"So if you saw me that long ago, how come we've just met?"

"I came here every night it was open, over the following month, just for another look. But I never saw you, so I started to assume you being here that time was a one-time thing. You know, work colleague's night-out, etcetera?

"Then on the Friday, at the start of the next month, when I was just about to give up, I recognised Allison. I was on the verge of tapping her on the shoulder to ask where you were, when you laughed -- and there you were, standing right next to her -- and I hadn't recognised you.

"Then, along with the laugh, was your voice, and the legs, and the smile -- but with red hair and lips, wearing a lime green dress, and lightly applied mascara, and green eyelids; and I saw that you weren't anything like Allison, 'cos you had nice small -- er -- endowments.

"That's when I realised that I was wrong. You weren't a

hot

middle-aged woman -- you were about my age -- still

hot

, but now in my league. I was now

super-

smitten.

"So, on other nights, I watched you -- awaiting an opportunity. Often, the only way I recognised you was because you were with Allison. And I realised she was what you just said you thought Ronan was to me -- the dominant one.

"So I decided I needed a 'wingman'. And Ronan was the perfect fit. He's a 'big tits' fan.

"But still, he's no pushover, the bastard. He's not into clubs; so it took me weeks to persuade him to come; and then the only reason he came with me, even despite my description of Allison's generous -

endowments

, is because he insists that I pay all his expenses. You know, the door cover-charges, and his drinks. So, now he's out there with Allison, thus leaving me here, with the prize; and that, I am delighted to say, is definitely

you

.

"You see, I'm very much a devotee of the 'barely handful', rather than the massive warheads, type."

"All right, then. But if I'm so attractive -- why have you been ignoring me all the time we've been here?"

"Ah, well, thereby hangs the tale! I may not be a fan of big

endowments

, but I am a BIG fan of long nipples. And you've been advertising yours all the time we've been sitting here. So, I have, in no way, been capable of ignoring you."

The Prize

He slowly reached across and gently took hold of Yvonne's hand, and while caressing it lightly, laid her hand on the now considerable bulge covered by his flies. She gasped; and some natural instinct forced her to squeeze.

"I have been -- sorry, still am -- trying to fight down the -- very -- intense desire to devour you -- lips first."

So after the long explanation had caused Yvonne's insipient-violent tension to dissipate, she did, in the end slap him.

Right on the lips.

With her own.

He lost control; and crushed her to him, without care.

His left hand clamped to the back of her head; his large right hand clamped tightly to her petite right rear globe as she leaned into him. Her skirt was too short to form any barrier, so his fingers went in under it.

Lubrication disadvantaged her, but aided him, without him trying. His index and third fingers slithered on her thighs, one on one side of her thong, the other on the other side. Then the closeness of her thighs 'guided' his fingers closer together, and into her vagina; thus causing his longer second finger to 'firmly' thrust against the flimsy thong that covered her clit.

He wasn't conscious of his actions, so the tightening of his fingers through his grip 'on her bum' ensured that both her internal and external erogenous tissues received 'just enough' of the 'right' stimulation.

She screamed into his mouth as she orgasmed.

Of course, that wasn't the only time it happened that weekend. For her, and for him.

Her chameleon appearance; snakelike pre- and orgasmic undulations, combined with her long nipples; his devotion, and what proved to be his ever-ready hard-on, served them throughout their married life.

Yvonne's three children boosted her

endowments

to bigger-handfuls; though still not big enough to fill Luke's largish hands. But her commensurately enlarged nipples certainly worked on Luke's libido, even if it meant that Yvonne could no longer freely wear flimsy bras.

Ronan had remained in awe of Allison's assets, even after her breast reduction operation, which was needed to relieve her lower-back problems. That the Op. also removed the time-related droops re-ignited Ronan's ardour (also much to her relief).

Allison and Ronan's son -- who, it turned out preferred lesser --

endowments

-- married Luke and Yvonne's daughter.