The ugly truth of any long-distance relationship is, it sucks. Much as your young heart may try to romanticize all the effort and the sacrifice involved, at the end of the day you’re still miserable. Eventually, you start to feel a bit like the widow who lives out her days celibate, still in love with her dead husband.

It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Liz and I poured every meager cent we earned into long-distance phone calls and plane fares, but, more often then not, I found myself romantically committed to a voice on a telephone.

With all our combined income, we were still only able to afford to see each other for one weekend each month. You’d think these occasional visits would be filled with non-stop passion and amorous euphoria, but that’s never how they turned out. Sure, there was “the good stuff”—the sex, the cuddling, pillow talk, romantic adventure—but each weekend tryst was always underscored by a certain degree of disappointment; of never being quite as perfect as what we’d built up in our minds over the preceding weeks.

And then there were the fights. Like clockwork, each of these supposed-to-be-blissful cross-country weekend visits inevitably included one huge, awful argument between Liz and I, carried out with the same pent-up passion as our lovemaking.

I guess relationships need a certain degree of conflict to survive, just as they need tenderness and affection. It’s an essential part of the recipe. But, while normal couples got the privilege of balancing these emotional necessities with a more mild day-to-day commitment, our long-distance relationship meant we had to pack everything into a tiny, potent capsule; more like a relationship suppository, taken once a month.

Some side effects may include: Depression, jealousy, confusion, loneliness, doubt, and frequent masturbation.

It also didn’t help that there were so many goddamn gorgeous girls running around my coed dorm in their pajamas, their perky, 19-year-old breasts bouncing braless beneath those too-tight tee shirts. There was one girl in particular—Jessica Hernandez—who made my life a living hell: long legs, tiny waist, dark Latin hair that reached down to her ass, and absolutely spectacular tits. Skinny everywhere except the bust, that girl was the definition of “top-heavy.”

And she was totally devoid of modesty. Each night, Jessica would stroll down the hallway between her room and the showers—a route that took her right past my door—wearing nothing but a frayed bath towel.

Still, all that was manageable. Nothing five minutes and a fistful of Kleenex couldn’t solve. No, the thing that made Jessica so horrible was the fact that she and I had so much in common. We liked the same movies, read the same books, shared more than half of our classes, and she was a barista at my favorite off-campus café.

She was perfect girlfriend material. If I’d made a pass at her, the awful truth was that she’d probably have gone out with me. And I had to see her every day.

On the other side of the country, Liz was going through a similar ordeal with some cute guy she met in her “human sexuality” class, of all things. I don’t imagine things were any easier on her.

Liz and I turned to Stephanie and Simon for support. They were struggling with the long-distance thing as well, and their commiseration via phone or AIM (yes, we chatted over AIM back then), was my only lifeline on those lonely nights when I was either so lonely or so horny I thought I would go insane.

Then they broke up.

They broke up! After all that drama our senior year of high school, Simon and Stephanie couldn’t last just one semester apart. I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised, given how difficult things were for Liz and I. But it didn’t much help our own resolve, seeing our best friends give up on their relationship.

Alas, Simon and Stephanie went their separate ways, finding new loves and lovers. By the time we were all halfway through our second semester of college, it was plainly obvious to both Elizabeth and myself that our friends were happier for having split up.

On an otherwise unspectacular night, while Liz and I were chatting on the phone, she whispered, “We haven’t had a chance to really experience college, have we? I don’t mean hooking up with other people, I mean—”

“I know what you mean.”

No matter how many new and exciting experiences we’d had since starting college, we both missed each other so deeply and so constantly that we couldn’t let ourselves enjoy any of it. Our long-distance relationship did more than just keep us from getting laid, it was something that weighed down on every aspect of our lives.

Exhausted, we both grudgingly agreed to take a break. We weren’t “breaking up,” exactly, we were just clearing out the storm clouds. We needed to know what college was like without a long-distance relationship, before we could really know for sure whether we were making the right choice.

I had a lot of trouble studying for my midterms that week.

In a daze, I went out to grab a coffee and, as luck would have it, found Jessica Hernandez working at the café. I was enough of a regular that Jessica didn’t even bother with taking my order anymore, she just poured me a tall black coffee the second I walked in the door (it was all I could ever afford.)

Jessica saw the ragged look on my face when I came to collect my drink and asked, “Hey Ian, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

I deliberately tried to be nonchalant about it. I was in too weird a mood to go fishing for pity hugs, even when those hugs would mean feeling my favorite barista’s big, soft boobs squeezing up against me.

“Are you sure?”

I wasn’t. And the more I tried to avoid staring at her chest, the more I felt my resolve wane. Come to think of it, why the hell didn’t I deserve a few big-breasted pity hugs? I’d had a tough week, and damn if she didn’t look terrific in the tight white polo shirt they made the baristas wear.

“Actually, me and Liz decided to take a break.”

“Oh no!” she ignored her current customer to race around the bar and embrace me, thrusting the full weight of her tits against my chest to cushion the impact. Yep, that hit the spot. For the first time since I’d started college, I allowed myself to actually enjoy being attracted to another woman.

Once she finished hugging me, Jessica whipped me up some kind of huge, frothy drink I couldn’t even pronounce, much less afford.

“Here, on the house.”

I returned to my dorm room to study, but an hour later I found myself distracted by the sound of someone pacing back and forth in the hallway outside my door. Happy to take a break from my books, I took a look through the peep-hole and saw Jessica—still wearing her work clothes—standing in the hallway outside. She lifted her fist, as if to knock, but quickly decided against it and started back towards her room—

Then she stopped, turned back, and returned to my door. Then she left. Then she came back. Then she left again. I’d spent my senior year of high school hanging out almost exclusively with girls, and apparently I still had no idea how their brains worked.

When Jessica finally returned to my door, I took the initiative and opened it.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah! I just—my roommate’s gone for the weekend, and I know you’re having a rough time so I thought I’d just offer to talk. If you need to. But then I thought, it’d be weird, and it’s not really my place, and you probably just want your space or whatever, right? I’m sorry, this was a bad idea.”

“Jess?”

“Yeah?”

I gave her a hug.

We spent the rest of the evening lounging around her dorm discussing what was going on with me and my “sort-of-sort-of-not” girlfriend. Sensing that I needed something a little stronger than coffee to get me through the night, Jessica grabbed a bottle of cheap, room-temperature vodka from under her bed and we took turns downing shots until we were buzzing and silly.

“What about you?” I finally asked. “We’ve been talking and talking about my love life, how are things with you?”

“Honestly, the past couple nights, it’s been kind of… frustrating.”

Thunk.

We both flinched as something heavy bumped against the wall on the other side.

Thunk. Thunk.

There it was again. As if her neighbors were rearranging the furniture at two o’clock in the morning. Jessica giggled knowingly into her vodka.

“Ohhhhhhh…”

It was a woman’s voice, coming from the neighboring dorm room. A low, ecstatic moan.

“Ohh yeah…” Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Jessica burst out laughing. The grunts and moaning coming from the other room grew faster and fiercer, and I admit there was a certain comic desperation in it, punctuated by the sound of the bed jamming repeatedly against the wall.

“Is this what you mean by ‘frustrating?” I whispered.

Jessica nodded, cupping a hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter. “They go at it like every night! Sometimes at four or five in the morning! Not only do they wake me up, but sometimes the sound of it gets me all turned-on and I can’t even go back to sleep!”

In the other room, the two noisy lovers finally reached their obnoxiously loud climaxes, shouting, “Oh god! Oh god! Yeahhhhh…”

I looked down at Jessica and we both cracked up. I nonchalantly rested a pillow on my lap, hoping to hide the fact that my pants had suddenly gotten a bit tighter around the crotch.

“What are you doing to my roommate’s pillow?” she asked suggestively.

“Busted,” I laughed.

“Oh, and I’m not?” she laughed, gesturing at the beautifully plump pair of nipples poking into the fabric of her white polo shirt.

“Dammit, why do you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be all hot!” I shouted, laughing as I drunkenly poked my finger into her shoulder. “All year, I’m trying to be as faithful as a monk, and there you are, every night—this beautiful, gorgeous naked girl—walking down the hallway outside my room!”

“I am not naked! I’m wearing a towel.”

“Yeah, but underneath it you’re all naked and sexy and… dammit!”

Jessica just blushed and took another swig of the vodka. Tipsy or not, what I’d just said had crossed the line into awkwardness.

“I think it’s time for bed,” she sighed at last.

I just nodded, pulling on my tennis shoes while Jessica strolled over to her closet. “Thanks for talking, Jess. I didn’t mean to say anything weird, I’m just kind of confused and—“

She peeled off the tight white polo shirt she’d been wearing. A plain white bra cut enticingly across the rich, warm color of her skin.

“What are you doing?” I stammered.

“Changing out of my work clothes,” she explained.

Feeling pretty confident that her behavior implied an invitation to stare, I reclined back on the bed and enjoyed the show as she lowered her slacks to the floor, giving me an eyeful of the peach-colored lace panties struggling to cover maybe a quarter of her ass.

“Cute underwear.”

“Thanks!” she giggled. Then, keeping her back to me, Jessica unsnapped her bra and threw it in the hamper. The sides of her ample, naked breasts swung teasingly into view.

Whoa.

She rejoined me on the bed, concealing her tits with nothing but her hands.

“There,” she sighed. “Much better. That bra was getting all itchy.”

“Your hands are more comfortable, I take it?”

She bit her lip and grinned suggestively. “Anyone’s hands, really.”

I wanted Jessica so badly—thoughts of her naked body had been keeping me up at night since orientation—

But for some reason I choked.

Here she was, actually trying to seduce ME, and I couldn’t bring myself to go for it. It was like my body had forgotten how to respond to a woman who wasn’t Liz. I sought out that vodka bottle for an emergency swallow.

For her part, Jessica seemed a bit confused by the fact that I hadn’t already pounced on her like some horny, slobbering Labrador. Guess she figured I was playing hard-to-get.

Still cradling her breasts, Jessica snuggled into my arms. I felt the bare skin of her back beneath my fingers. Felt the heat of her lips pressing softly into the crook of my neck. I grew painfully hard within the constraints of my jeans.

“I’m still in love with her,” I sighed. Jessica quietly broke away, meeting my eyes with her own.

“Does that mean you don’t want to do this?”

My eyes drifted south, to the soft pillows of flesh ballooning out around her fingers.

“Of course I do, I just—I don’t want to be unfair to you. I’m kind of a mess on the inside, right now.”

Jessica mulled over what I’d said, then flashed me a sweet smile. She shifted her body so that she was covering both breasts with one arm, and used her free hand to ruffle my hair.

“Kind of a mess on the outside, too,” she teased. “But at least you’re honest. And the mood I’m in right now, the most ‘unfair’ thing you could do would be to leave me alone and unsatisfied.”

She let her fingers slowly trace their way down from my hair, caressing my cheek, grazing her nails across my chest…

We both lowered our gaze to watch intently as those fingers of hers reached my jeans and began stroking the shape of my cock.

“Oh Jesus.”

“It’s okay,” she cooed. “You’ve had a rough year. Why don’t you just let me take care of you for a little while?”

It was the first time since prom night—almost a year now—that someone other than Liz had touched me like that. I felt wrong and guilty, and so-goddam-fucking-horny I thought I was going to pass out.

Jessica was gentle; sweet and affectionate. Her touch reminded me of how I had behaved the first time I’d caressed Elizabeth’s breasts, her body literally shaking with desire at my touch—

Goddammit! Why can’t I go five minutes without thinking of Liz?

Jessica squeezed me through my jeans, wrenching my thoughts back to reality. Liz and I were on a break, after all. And the point of that break was so that we could enjoy moments like this.

I was done being miserable. And I needed to get laid.

I grabbed Jessica and pulled her in for a sudden kiss, reveling in the fiery passion as our lips and bodies crashed together. The hand on my crotch fumbled with my zipper until my cock was out in the open, hot and hard. I felt a jolt as her fingers wrapped around me and began pumping, up and down.

“Mmm,” Jessica intoned, leaning back to study my enraptured expression. Slowly but deliberately, she swung her other arm out of the way, finally revealing her full, round, gorgeous boobs to my hungry gaze. The rest of Jessica’s body was so slim in comparison, it was kind of ridiculous.

She cupped her voluptuous bosom and offered it up to my lips.

“Oh God, yes,” I sighed, and filled my mouth with the softness of her breast.

I really let myself enjoy those big tits of hers, greedily groping and kneading while I traced my tongue from one nipple to the other. Jessica cooed with pleasure and straddled my thighs, continuing to gently stroke me while letting the tip of my erection brush against her bare midriff.

I playfully squeezed the firm bubble of her ass, slipping my hands beneath those thin lace panties to appreciate the smooth skin beneath. I dared myself to keep going, reaching down until I felt the wetness between her legs. Jessica momentarily released her grip on me, reveling in the sensation as my fingertips slowly swirled across the soft folds of her pussy.

Both of us now breathing heavily, I brushed the long strands of dark hair from Jessica’s face and pulled her in for a kiss. She kissed back ferociously—all tongue—putting a big smile on my face in the process. With Jessica momentarily distracted, I slipped two fingers all the way up inside her, causing the girl to reflexively bite down on my lower lip.

She didn’t break the skin, but that unexpected snap of pain was still enough to really get me going. I promptly picked Jessica up and dropped her onto the bed, kicking off my pants and yanking off my shirt.

Then I knelt down on the floor, grabbed Jessica’s delicate lace panties with my teeth, and dragged them down her legs—revealing her perfectly shaven crotch.

Still kneeling, I pushed her thighs apart and started kissing my way to the center—

But Jessica grabbed me by the hair and impatiently pulled me back to my feet.

“I don’t want to wait, just put it in me.”

She hurriedly reached into her nightstand and retrieved a condom, tearing it from the foil packaging as quickly as she could. Jessica gave my penis a couple of nice, long licks, then rolled the condom onto me herself and flopped back into her most eager “fuck me” position, those long legs hanging off the bed on either side of me.

I didn’t really want to wait, either, and honestly who could deny an invitation like that? Grabbing that tiny waist of hers for leverage, I pushed inside the warmth of Jessica’s body with a long, satisfying thrust that left us both gasping for air.

I thrust into her again—harder this time—and then again, and again, each time provoking a little yelp of surprise. Those long, beautiful legs tensed up on either side of me, her toes pointing at the ceiling.

“Yes! Oh yes!” she cried, punctuating her moans by slapping the wall as hard as she could, no doubt a calculated act of revenge against those noisy neighbors.

After a few minutes, Jessica’s big breasts were bouncing around so wildly she had to grab hold of them to keep the things under control. As her orgasm crashed down like a wave, Jessica forgot all about revenge against her neighbors and scrunched her eyes shut in ecstasy—going suddenly and surprisingly silent as she convulsed and climaxed around my cock.

When her eyes finally opened again, she had a huge smile on her face. “Now me on top,” she breathed. I fell onto her bed, my back propped up against the wall as Jessica spun around and straddled me—her long hair an adorable mess and her juicy tits bumping into my chin.

I gave those tits a good hard squeeze as Jessica guided me back inside her incredibly hot body, her hips swaying back and forth all the way down. She braced her hands on my shoulders and began rising and falling, her bare breasts rubbing up and down my chest as she went. I happily cupped my hands beneath her buttocks, feeling them tighten with each thrust.

Damn it felt good. I hadn’t been laid in over a month and I was more than eager for some relief. I grabbed Jessica around the waist and lifted her up—the girl hardly weighed a thing—then slammed her back down onto my cock. It did it again and again, using my own strength to bounce her up and down as fast as I could.

Jessica giggled, enjoying the ride. With a naughty smile, she leaned back and pulled my face into her cleavage. Much as I loved that, I eventually had to break away for air, but I gave her nipples each a good licking to show my appreciation. She cursed in Spanish, trembling as her second climax approached.

My arms started burning from the strain of constantly bouncing her up and down on my cock—but I forced myself to keep going. Finally, Jessica’s pussy clamped down on me and she let out a shriek of orgasmic pleasure. I was past the point of no return, ready to burst at any second—

“Come on me,” she panted.

“What?” I was so close to blowing my load, I wasn’t sure I’d heard right.

“I want you to—ohhh—pull out and come on me.”

I frantically pushed her back onto the bed—pulled out of her pussy—ripped off my condom—straddled her hips—

Jessica grabbed my shaft and pumped it until I exploded, making a mess all over her beautiful big tits.

The sex was awesome.

After that night, Jessica and I started unofficially dating. We had a lot of fun together, and whenever I got horny, all I had to do was take a thirty second walk down the hallway to her dorm room. It was convenient, casual, and gratifying—in the moment. But, relieved as I was to be rid of the stress and pain of my long-distance relationship with Elizabeth, there was a palpable hollowness in its place.

Eight weeks passed, with no sign of things getting any more serious between Jessica and I. She started getting anxious, clearly feeling there was some kind of a connection between us that I never did. Maybe I was just spoiled; every other girl I’d been intimate with before Jessica had started off as an incredibly close personal friend. I felt a bit silly, keeping such a fun, gorgeous girl at arm’s length.

Finally, Jessica voiced the big question: “Where is this going?” And of course I had no answer for her. I wasn’t dating Jessica because I loved her—I didn’t. I wasn’t even dating Jessica because I wanted to be in a relationship—I didn’t. If I was brutally honest with myself, the only reason I was dating Jessica was because I didn’t have a good reason not to.

I knew our breakup was inevitable, and I couldn’t blame her for moving on to another guy (though the fact that the “other guy” was my goddamn roommate was kind of bad form, if you ask me).

Halfway across the country, it was much the same story for Elizabeth. Not the bit about her ex fucking her roommate, but just an overall lack of substance to her love life. For the next year, we both tried the whole “college dating scene,” with short-term relationships, casual hookups, and one-night stands. I somehow managed to convince myself I’d moved on.

But I still dreamt about Liz. Bittersweet memories of her smile would hit me out of the blue like a debilitating acid flashback.

Then, one Tuesday morning, as I got up to go to my first class, I groggily noticed that something was very odd in my dorm: There was nobody in the hallway. No talking coming from the rooms. Sure, it was early, but it wasn’t that early. I’d been going to college for a good while now and I had never found the hallway abandoned in the morning. Curious, I peeked inside an open dorm room and saw what was on TV:

Smoke rising out of the World Trade Center.

I know I don’t need to recount the events of that day for anyone, but I have to at least mention it because the moment I saw that image of the towers, the very first thing I did was race back to my room and phone Liz. I don’t know what came over me, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. I had to hear her voice.

We hadn’t spoken in months, and then only very courteously because our mutual friends were around. When I heard Elizabeth answer that phone, my heart skipped a beat.

“Ian?”

“I’m still in love with you,” I blurted out. “I thought I wasn’t, but I am. I never stopped. I don’t think I ever will. You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to. I just—I needed to tell you.”

There was a long, awful pause on the line as my words sunk in. Then:

“I love you, too.”

As soon as the airports were working again, I flew out to see her, and the second we were alone together our clothes hit the floor. We tumbled onto her bed, hugging and kissing, whispering how much we loved one another while our naked limbs entwined. I marveled as always at the size and softness of her breasts, then lovingly sucked her wine-dark nipples into my mouth—pulling gently with my lips until she moaned.

Beneath me, Elizabeth spread her legs to either side and scooted her hips until the tip of my penis was perfectly aligned with her eager pussy.

God, I thought, she’s boiling.

Elizabeth pulled my face from her incredible tits and kissed me full on the lips.

“I love you,” she whispered again.

Then her hands clamped down on my ass and she drove me all the way inside.

It felt so right. She felt so right. We felt so right. I’d missed Elizabeth much more than I would have ever admitted to myself.

Her kisses were electric, already pushing me right to the edge. Less than thirty seconds after plunging my cock into Liz’s incredibly hot body, I felt myself losing control—

“I’m gonna come!” I moaned.

“Yes!” she screamed.

And so I burst, overwhelmed by the moment, collapsing light-headed onto her bare shoulder. Liz wrapped her legs around my waist and held me in place, buried to the hilt, until we both stopped shaking.

We spent the better part of the week making love with the kind of passion I’d all but forgotten was possible. When the time came for me to once again return to school, we bade each other our customary tearful farewell. Though it hurt just as much as ever, this time there was something different about the way we said goodbye. There was no uncertainty; no creeping fear that we were making a huge mistake.

From that day forward, we just made it work. There were a few things that made the long-distance thing easier this time around: Liz and I were able to schedule all our classes Tuesday-Thursday, creating four-day weekends we could spend together. We both finally got cell phones with unlimited minutes, and we both bought webcams, which were a godsend on those lonely nights when we just needed to see one another.

I’ll never forget the first night we plugged those things in. Liz—still stuck on the other side of the country—was getting ready for bed, wearing a thin red camisole over her enormous, braless breasts.

“Lock your door,” she whispered.

And so I did, feeling my pulse quicken as my beautiful girlfriend smiled back at me from hundreds of miles away and slowly let the straps of her camisole slide off her delicate shoulders. The swells of her luscious cleavage bulged above the drooping neckline.

“Wow,” I panted.

“Oh, you like that?”

In response, I slid off my boxers and grabbed hold of my aching shaft. On-screen, Liz taunted me, squeezing her own tits through the brief fabric of her shirt. I watched transfixed as that neckline drifted lower and lower.

Liz gave the corner of her shirt a quick little tug and her breasts spilled into view. The hand on my cock went on auto-pilot at the sight, furiously jacking off. Panting, I watched as Liz rubbed and caressed her own nipples, her growing arousal adding color to her cheeks…

I came, dribbling down over my fingers.

So, yeah, there were a few things that helped us with the long-distance thing our second time around. But the real difference—what really made the situation work that second time—was the two of us. We’d both matured a lot in our time apart, and we’d both spent enough time experiencing college on our own that we didn’t have to worry about what we were missing by staying together. We were at peace with what we had.

As months turned into years, things just got better. Liz and I graduated, moved into an apartment together out east, and found that we made great roommates.

So I proposed. And she said, “Yes, of course.” And she kissed me and cried and put on the ring.

We were both already so hopelessly and unquestionably devoted to one another that our wedding vows felt more like a pleasant formality and less like a life-changing commitment.

Corny as it sounds, we’d found true love. Our only regret was that we’d fallen largely out of touch with our amazing friends from high school. Even Stephanie, so long an indelible fixture in Elizabeth’s life, eventually became little more than a Facebook friend.

We found plenty of great new friends as time went on, but we never recaptured the magic we’d shared with our high school group. Liz and I still talked about them all the time, and the pain of missing them never went away.

After college, Steph really made a go at an acting career. She spent a few years waitressing in New York, and then another few in Los Angeles, booking the occasional gig in a stage play or a TV commercial. She never really caught her “big break” as an actress, but she also never let herself get jaded or discouraged.

Talia and Rachel broke all of our hearts by splitting up during their final year of college. Just as Liz and I were finally getting back together, the two of them drifted apart, with Rachel hopping the pond to Oxford for grad school and Talia staying behind in California.

When I asked Talia why she and Rachel broke it off, she told me that there wasn’t any one reason, they had both just become different people over the years, and they both wanted different things from life.

Shortly after her 24th birthday, Amy shocked everyone by changing her Facebook status to: “So… It turns out birth control isn’t 100% effective.”

Her then-casual boyfriend got Amy pregnant, and her whole life turned upside down when she later gave birth to her adorable son, Adam. All of her plans—including that pipe-dream of one day becoming a professional dancer—went out the window when she suddenly found herself caring for a small, helpless person. She didn’t even have someone to help her out—the boy’s father skipped town after less than a year.

Still, Amy was a goddamn champion, and she turned out to be a great mother, expertly balancing time with her child and her burgeoning career. I’ll never forget the first time I saw her playing with Adam—my fiery-haired, beautiful, badass-mother-fucker of a friend, happily making goo-goo noises at her infant son. She was exhausted, but as happy as I’d ever seen her.

Then there was Corry. Much as I should have seen it coming, that girl still caught me completely by surprise…

I was killing some time at the local bookstore when Liz excitedly tore me away from the science fiction section and dragged me up to the front counter.

“You have to get it, I’m too nervous,” she giggled.

“I have to get what?”

My wife pointed behind the counter, where the adult magazines were hiding. At first, I didn’t understand what she was so excited about. I hadn’t bought a nudie magazine since I was a teenager, as I considered them a waste of money for anyone that had a working internet connection. But then I saw it, too:

Posing on the cover of a certain well-known gentleman’s periodical was a very familiar face, with a very familiar set of tits.

“Holy shit, that’s Corry!”

I couldn’t believe it. Beneath all the dramatic makeup and a mane of crazily glamorous hair, there was my friend—her skin airbrushed and gleaming like bronze, her huge breasts barely hidden behind a tiny bouquet of flowers.

Liz was turning red, on the verge of exploding into nervous laughter right there in the middle of the store.

“You have to buy it!” she squeaked.

“Okay, okay!”

I turned to face the shop’s proprietor—a sweet-natured elderly woman who reminded me very much of my grandmother—and politely asked her for a copy of the magazine with the big-breasted blonde on the cover.

We didn’t wait until we were home before we looked inside. Soon as we got in the car, Liz tore off the shrink wrap and we huddled over the magazine, nervously giggling.

“Wow, she looks hot,” Liz sighed.

I couldn’t disagree. Corrine’s nude body looked spectacular in every photo, seductively posing around a Napa Valley vineyard, sunlight gleaming through her long golden hair. In one image, she was bending over to work an old-fashioned water pump, suggestively gripping the handle and aiming it between her tits.

“Bringing back memories?” my wife teased.

“Yeah. Good times.”

“Hmm. Feels to me like very good times.”

Liz rested her hand on my crotch, testing my hardness. I glanced up from the magazine and looked into her beautiful green eyes—

Zip. Liz fished my erection out into the open. I quickly glanced around—our car was sitting in the middle of a public parking garage, after all—but there didn’t seem to be any possible witnesses heading our way.

Liz leaned down into my lap and planted a series of slow, sensuous kisses up and down my length. Feeling my eyes on her, she placed a hand on my chin and re-directed my face back towards the magazine—

“Keep looking at the pictures,” she whispered.

Then my gorgeous wife engulfed my cock with her mouth.

Ohh, yeah…

I dutifully returned my gaze to the photos of our friend, pulling out the centerfold to ogle an unbelievably sexy picture of Corrine: kneeling on a picnic blanket, arching her back, thrusting out her prodigious chest as she poured an entire jar of honey onto her tits. Sticky sweet nectar dripped down from her delicious nipples.

Down in my lap, Liz withdrew her lips to catch her breath, stroking my wet shaft with her fist. She tormented me, teasingly swirling her tongue around the very tip of my penis before finally diving back down—this time for keeps—her head rising and falling on my lap, licking and sucking with abandon.

Looking at the centerfold, I couldn’t help but recall the way it had felt, all those years ago, when I’d first held Corrine’s glorious naked body in my arms. How it had felt to bury my cock inside her enormous, soft cleavage.

Then I flashed back to all my gorgeous friends from high school, and all the amazing sexual experiences we’d shared—

And I exploded in Liz’s mouth.