Eight years ago I got married. My wife Judy is a pretty good-looking 30-year-old woman. She probably couldn’t make a living as a model, but I think she looks great and has a great figure. Her 36B tits really don’t have to have a bra to hold them up. With a 26″ waist and 37″ hips she’s a little heavier than models are supposed to be. That hasn’t stopped a lot of guys from hitting on her. As if they had a chance.
Judy grew up in a straight-laced home. When we got married she was the kind of girl wearing “practical” clothes as she called them. I called them conservative. She never wore anything that hinted at sex. Naturally, She was a virgin when we got married.
I, on the other hand, was no stranger to sex. At 6’3″, I weighed in at 220 pounds. Not an ounce of fat anywhere. I was the type of macho guy that other guys hate. I excelled in sports and academics. It seemed like I got everything that I ever wanted. Jobs, girls, or you name it, I got the best. More than one guy was pissed off because I fucked his girlfriend. A few times I even screwed a married woman.
Then I met Judy. Everything changed. She resisted my charms. I had friends try to fix me up with her, but she said she knew my reputation and didn’t want to have anything to do with me.