Roxanne's Riddle Amswered

(Yes, that's me, Roxy, sucking Marti's huge left breast from over her left shoulder.  I love this position!)

I was a bit cryptic in my recent post when I said I was no longer employed by Marti - well, effective at 5:00pm tomorrow (Friday) anyway - and that I had gotten a much better offer.  Read on to find out what that offer is. . .

This past Monday we were at the studio's business office downtown.  Gina, who manages the office and sits at the front desk, had left to take some papers to the lawyer's office.  Marti sat at her large desk in her office going over a contract while I sat at the conference table in Marti's office trying to read a really shitty screenplay someone had submitted.  Knowing Marti and Maria would never accept such drivel, I quickly became bored and decided to take Marti up on her long-standing offer to me: her tits were mine whenever I wanted them.  So I got up and went behind her chair, reached over her shoulders and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse,  Reaching in, I grabbed hold of her gigantic left breast and pulled it out.

And, wow!  I mean, I've seen her nipples that long and hard before, but that was usually after they had gotten a lot of attention - I had just now pulled her breast out into the open.  Reaching across her neck I took the nipple between my thumb and forefinger and middle finger and gently massaged it.  "It looks so happy," I said more to myself than to Marti.

"It was waiting for you," she replied.  Usually she would have her eyes closed when I would do something like this or maybe be looking at her nipple, but this time she was looking at me.  Taking the tit in both of my hands, I raised the nearly twelve-and-a-half pounds of flesh until the twisting and hardening areola was above her left shoulder and the nipple stuck what had to be at least 3 inches above the skin of her breast.  I looked at it: she looked at me.  Though it was hard to discern as I watched it, if I closed my eyes for a few seconds when I reopened them I could tell the areola was changing: the Montgomery bumps rising and falling, the color growing darker, the twisting of it as it drew skin into it.  I couldn't wait any longer; I popped as much of it into my mouth as I could and sucked hard.  [No, the picture above is not from that day, but it is similar to what I was doing.]

The nipple was so long it tickled the very back of my throat; if it got any longer I was sure I could deepthroat it.  I squeezed and sucked, squeezed and sucked.  She moaned lightly; I moaned loudly.  Though I held my fantasy in reality, it held me in actuality.

I was lost in living my fantasies: had I been sucking a minute or 20 minutes?  I was taken out of my dream world when I felt her entire chest heave in a deep breath and let out a sigh.  "Baby," she said.  It was so rare for Marti to say anything other than "More!" or "Yes!" or merely moan when I sucked her tits much less call me by a name she had never used with me before.  "Baby" other than "Roxy" or, more and more frequently, "Roxanne."  "Baby," I like it.  I didn't stop sucking, but I looked to her with a muffled "hmmm" and raised eyebrows to tell her I was listening.

Then came the words, so very unexpected, that I know has changed and will change my life forever and forever the better: "Will you marry me?" she said.

My mouth flew open and I lost my grip on her breast in my shock and surprise, though I did notice how it fell and bounced beautifully on her chest.  In those few seconds of shock, my fist thought was to ask if I heard her right, but I didn't let the "What?" slip past my lips.  My second thought was that she was playing a joke on me, but I knew Marti could never be so cruel and her eyes showed honesty and hope and, well, love.

"Yes!" I shrieked so loud I'm sure the entire building heard.  "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"  I threw my arms around her neck and squeezed her so hard, too hard.  Then came my rash of one word questions: "When?  Where?  How?"  Then the complicated one: "Why?"

She took my hand and led me to the large leather couch on the far side of the office.  As we sat, I noticed she didn't even bother to put her left breast back inside her blouse and I swear the nipple was even bigger.  It was hard for me to take my eyes off of it; I knew my wife-to-be didn't mind.  "As to when," she said as we sat close together our hands folded around each other's.  "As soon as possible after I get back from my escort trip [which starts today, by the way].  As to where, that's up to you.  Same for how, but I suggest something simple.  I've been with a local justice who I'm sure would do it."  There was a pause and another sigh, this time from both of us.  "As to why. . .  Because I've fallen in love with you because I think you are perfect for me and to me.  I know we only met a couple months ago, but I've learned enough of you to make up my mind that you can make me happy like no one else can."

I couldn't help it, but my eyes went from Marti's eyes to her exposed breast: never had I seen it like this!  Never had I seen her nipple so long!  Never had I seen so much skin pulled into her areola like the spiral arms of a galaxy.  And it was MY galaxy.

This time, she also looked at her nipple.  "See, it thinks so, too!" she said.  "God, it feels so good."  I wanted to touch it, to put it back in my mouth and to suck the incredible nipple of my - fiancée!  I couldn't believe I was actually thinking that word!

"But there's some things I need you to know, then I'll ask you again," she said gently pushing me back a little.  "I knew I wanted to ask you sooner, but I had to have a long heart-to-heart with Michelle and Maria.  I want you to know that they are fine with this and happy for us.  Though you'll find Michelle joking about how her stepmother is half her age!"  (Oh, fuck, that's right, technically I would be Michelle's stepmother!)  "There would have to be a prenuptial agreement between you and I.  This business will some day belong to Michelle and Maria as will much of what I have, but I promise you that you will be a very comfortable wife and young lady."  I started to speak but she stopped me.  "Second, I cannot change my life entirely.  If you do indeed decide to marry me after I ask you again you must understand that this will have to be a fully open marriage.  I can give my heart and soul to you, but you will have to share my body, though you will be my first lover."  We were looking into each other's eyes now.  "Lastly," she said, "and think hard on this: you will be marrying someone 48 years older.  The days will come, God willing, when you will still be young and healthy and I, well, I won't be.  You understand what that means, right?"  I nodded.  "But let it be clear that I want to marry you as my wife and equal and not so I can have a caretaker in my old age.  I could afford to buy that."

There was an awkward silence.  She caressed my head gently in her hands.  I reached to her and did the same.  "Now, Roxanne, my love, will you still marry me?" she asked.  I tried to gather all the emotional strength my 22 years could muster and looked her deeply in the eyes.  I started to say "Yes!" again, but the word didn't come.  What did come, in torrents, were tears, tears of joy.  All I could do was nod my YES! and fall into her arms.

I cried like a baby; she cried like a woman.  I had lots of "why me?" questions for her, but those could wait.  In this embrace, I could feel Roxy the girl packing up her stuffed animals and insecurities and  taking backstage as Roxanne the woman entered the spotlight.

Marti broke the emotional tension by whispering: "Two other things.  First, no more 'Ms Marti;' we're equals."  I smiled and nodded as I wiped my eyes.  "And second,"she continued, "maybe after you marry me we can have a second ceremony when you marry these!" She reached into her blouse and pulled out her right breast to go with her bare left one: the right one looked every bit as excited as the left one!

I'll leave the rest of that morning to your imagination.

* * * *

That night Marti took just me to bed with her.  (Most nights there would be at least two ladies in bed with her.)  I lay back against the headboard as she lay between my legs, her back against my chest.  Of course, the top of her nightgown was pulled down to expose those huge tits and she used her shoulders, neck, arms and back to show them off as much as she could.  As we shared a nice bottle of champagne she was as giggly as a teenager which proved to me that she was as happy about our engagement as I was, casting away any doubts I might have had.

And, damn, I love to watched her tits bounce as she laughs!

*  *  *  *

You'll be hearing more from me as I work through that "why me?" question in my mind.  But, for now, I am finishing this post in an empty hotel room that I shared with my fiancée last night.  We spent the night in a seaside hotel close to the house those 10 men rented where Marti will spend the next 6 night before coming home to me and our wedding.  I wrote most of this after I woke up at 3:00 am while she still slept.  I didn't want to wake her and enjoyed writing quietly as she slept.  She wanted to enter the house and the lives of those men as the sun rose, so we arrived there at around 6:15 am.  She looked amazing in a little black strappy dress and heels, the straps not even concealing all of her large areolas, though she did wear a vest over the dress.  When we got to the house, she asked me to come up with her.  As we stood before the ten men and as the rising sun blasted through the myriad of windows which overlooked the ocean, she introduced me as her soon-to-be wife.  I was so totally proud of her and, honestly, of myself knowing she had chosen me when she could have chosen so many others.

After the introductions, she removed her vest to the delight of her clients and handed the garment to me.  I quickly scanned the men; all wore what Marti had hoped they would wear for her: small gray cotton gym shorts with no underwear and, I can tell you, they all sported hardons for my Marti.  She kissed me and reminded me - as if I needed a reminder - to pick her up next Thursday at noon.  As I opened the front door to leave I turned back: Marti was pulling down the straps of her dress and I stood silently and watched her peel the little bits of fabric down from her breasts.  She held her hands over her head and from the sun coming through the windows I could see her incredible silhouette, like the ones she and Michelle have shown on here of her back views, those immense breasts so much wider than her body.  The guys were taking photo after photo with their cell phones or some with fancy cameras.

I smiled and left.

*  *  *  *

I'm back in the hotel room now finishing this post.  After I publish it, I'm going to lie in the bed I shared with her last night and rejoice in what lies ahead for me.  Check-out isn't until noon so I'll have plenty of time to enjoy myself before driving back to the home that will soon be mine in fact and not just a place I share temporarily with Marti.  I thought about taking the walk down the beach from the hotel to the house she's in right now with those men just to gaze at it and think about what might be going on in there, but, no, that is a part of her life that should be hers alone.

Am I jealous of what she's doing right now, or, better, what they may be doing to her right now?  No, I'm not.  I'm proud of her and always will be.  I've known from the start that this is an integral part of her and I couldn't have fallen in love with her without fully accepting it.  I've learned a lot about myself this week; I'm sure there's a lot more to learn.

Kisses,

Roxanne