There are two things I like about Denise, but they weren’t the reason I went home with her that first night. They may have been the reason I went back.

The evening had started really badly. It was a Saturday night. Rose, that’s the wife, and I had been invited to a party at Stevo’s.

“I’m not going,” she snapped when I asked her why she was still not dressed but still slumped in an old bra and huge knickers on the sofa watching some soap opera or other. “I know what will happen, by eight o’clock, you and the rest of the blokes will vanish out to Steve’s shed to drink beer and talk footie, cars and gossip about other bloke’s wives. And I’ll be left with that boring gaggle of old witches to hear them talk about kids and denigrate their husbands. Honestly, to hear them talk, I’ve no idea why any of them stay married.”

“Kids?”

“Well thank fuck we never had any.”

I like Rose, she’s forthright and we are solid in our agreement that we never wanted children. They’d have starved if we had had any we’d joke when we did talk about it, a cruel reference to Rose’s small tits. Nice tits, I’ve always liked them, still young and perky looking. I love them probably as much as Rose hates them. Somehow she thinks her life would have been different if they had been bigger, perhaps it would have been. Someone might have snapped her up before I got a chance and she’d have ended up with kids. Still, it made no difference, I was going and she wasn’t and I knew the next couple of days would be quite miserable as she took it out on me.

But Rose, as usual, was correct. By eight, the guys were gathered on the patio, finishing off the remaining burnt offerings of the barbie, beer tins in hands and the women had coalesced in the living room, arranged around the sofa and armchairs, except Denise. Denise was sitting alone at the dining table, cradling a glass of wine and looking very alone. I sidled over and noticed her cleavage for the first time.

I suppose I’ve known Denise for years. She was married to Jimbo, but he was Stevo’s friend, not mine and we’d never really hit it off. Denise was just his wife. Short, quiet, diminutive, the complete opposite of loud, brash ex-footie player, Jim. They had kids I assumed, because she used to sit with the coven. But not tonight.

“Sitting alone?” I asked, instantly feeling stupid for stating the bleeding obvious.

“Yes, they don’t want to know me now I’m divorced. I’m some sort of threat, not that I’d be interested in any of those drongos,” she nodded to the other blokes who were chatting obnoxiously loudly outside, “they’re welcome to them. No offence, present company excepted, of course. Where’s Rose?” she added, rapidly changing the subject and trying to get out of the hole she was digging.

“None taken. Well, same thing really. She has nothing to talk about with them, being as we don’t have kids and she didn’t want another boring night alone whilst I drank beer and talked shit with Stevo and the lads. Since she said it, it seems less attractive to me too, unlike you, you look different.”

“What you mean is you can see my cleavage. Posh frock, tits hanging out, just the way Jim liked me but wouldn’t let me go out in public. And they,” she nodded to the other wives, “hate it. Hate the way their sex-deprived partners all letched at me as soon as they saw me, so now I’m ostracised. I think I’ll finish this wine and call a taxi, no point being where I’m not wanted.”

“I could give you a lift, if you want?”

“I’d like that, won’t Rose mind? You know one of them will ring her tomorrow to let her know you left with me, just casual like, in the general conversation, ’and how did the party go?’, ’oh that Denise was here - alone - your Mick took her home I think’, you know how it goes.”

“Yes, I know, but I’m in the dog house anyway.”

The drive back to Denise’s house was almost in silence, certainly nothing of consequence was said. There was a tension between us and I kept stealing glances at her tits. I didn’t remember Denise as having had any of any note before.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?’ she asked as soon as I pulled up on her driveway.

Everything hung in the balance, my whole future I could tell, was on the line.

“Okay.”

I followed her into the living room and waited, leaning against the back of the sofa, whilst she fetched me a beer from the kitchen.

“The kids are at their nana’s for the night, I’ll fetch them tomorrow,” she said, by way of explaining and emphasising that we were alone. She’d walked back into the living room having taken her shoes off and now didn’t even come up to my shoulder so I couldn’t help but look down into her cleavage as she passed me the tinny.

“You didn’t know I had tits, did you?” she laughed.

I stammered around, searching for an appropriate answer.

“It’s okay, Jim didn’t like blokes looking so I always covered up well whenever we went out. Do you want to look?”

Before I could agree or decline, she pushed the dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. A substantial, sheepdog of a black, lace-trimmed bra rounded her huge tits up and pushed them forward and up. Below that, a mom-belly slightly overhung a suspender belt which led my eyes down to her legs which were wrapped in black stockings. Large, black, spandex panties covered her pubes.

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“Hmm, wow you say whilst they are in a good bra, not so good after four years of breastfeeding. That’s why Jim lost interest you know? Floppy tits, screaming kids and a loose fanny, that’s what he said I had when I asked him why he was shagging the twenty-year-old secre-tart at work. You want a look?”

I wanted to protest, to be polite, to claim she was still beautiful, but I also wanted to see a huge pair of tits after a decade of only occasionally getting to see, or even more rarely, touch, Rose’s tiny, pert pair. I could feel an erection pushing against the front of my jeans.

“Hmm,” I murmured non-committally.

Denise reached behind her and unfastened her bra. Even though she clamped it to her with one arm across her bust-line, there was a substantial downward motion as soon as she unhooked. One hand then pushed the straps off her shoulders and now it was obvious that her arm was holding her boobs up. She looked up at me and holding the strap with the crossed arm, she lifted the other arm free, then lowered her other arm, pulling the bra from her.

With one heavy movement, her tits fell downwards until the bulk of them was near her waist, the nipples pointing nearly downwards.

I gasped and felt my old man twitching his appreciation.

“Horrible, aren’t they?”

“Gorgeous, huge, magnificent,” I enthused and sank to my knees, put the beer can down on the floor and picked them both up in my hands and sucked at each of the massive nipples in turn.

Denise groaned, “Don’t torment me, Mick.”

Tormenting her was the last thing on my mind as I released her boobs, gripped either side of her panties and pulled them down. As she was wearing stockings for the look, not because she was expecting to be fucking whilst wearing them, she’d put on her panties and then the stockings and suspenders. Consequentially I only managed to pull them down as far as her stocking tops, but this revealed her luxuriously bushy pubes. I licked the fingers of one hand, pushed it between her legs and slowly withdrew it, sliding my fingers between her lips and feeling her moisture within.

Denise sighed and I repeated the stroking action, curling my middle finger so it slipped easily into her. Pulling my hand from her, I pushed my finger between my lips and sucked it with obvious salacious intent.

“Oh god,” whispered Denise, “do you want a blowie?”

“No,” I said, standing up and putting my hands on her shoulders and turning her around to lean over the back of the sofa, “I want to fuck you.”

“Let me fetch some lube first, please?” she said, deploringly.

“Oh, Denise, you feel plenty wet enough to me,” I replied, grinning as I undid my jeans.

“What? You want to fuck my... you won’t like it, Jim says I’m useless since the kids. Just let me give you a blowie.”

I had my cock out now, and rubbing her pussy again with one hand, I wiped her moisture over my bellend and then slipped it between her legs and guided it towards her pussy. Denise wriggled and guided me to her. And then I was in, pushing easily into her depths. As I lay across her back, I reached around to grab hold of her pendulous breasts.

“Oh, Denise, you’re lovely,” I enthused as my cock slid deep into her. There was no tightness, but plenty of sensation and so much nicer than I remembered fucking to be.

“Oh god, oh god, Mick, oh god, oh god, oh god.”

I was thrusting in and out now, fucking her hard and really enjoying it, loving the way she grunted and swore with each thrust and loving the feeling of her massive tits hanging in my hands.

“Oh, Denise, yes, yes, yes, that’s so good, so...”

“Don’t cum! I’m not on the pill.”

In shock, I pulled out just in time and unloaded with three big spurts right up her back. She arched her back as the warm cum landed on her, pushed her shoulders back and stood up, turned around and sank to her knees, grabbing at my dribbling cock and sucking the last drops of spunk out of it. Slowly wanking the shaft until it softened in her hand, she finally gave up and stood up. Her hand pawed at her back and came away covered in spunk. which she licked off with obvious relish.

As she stood up, I picked her boobs up and bent down to kiss her, pushing my tongue into her mouth. Denise kissed me back, passionately and I could taste my spunk in her mouth. I baulked for an instant, decided it was very sexy and pushed my tongue deeper into her mouth. Finally, we parted and I stepped back, reluctantly releasing her boobs.

“Oh, god, I’m so horny,” she moaned softly, “You have no idea how long it has been since it felt that good.” Taking hold of my hips, she pulled me to her and ground against my pelvis, “Oh god.”

I could hear the frustration in her voice, so I pushed a hand between us, slipping my fingers through her minge until I felt how wet she was, and how welcoming her pussy was I slipped two fingers into her.

“Make me cum,” she whispered, and I eagerly began to finger-fuck her as my other hand started to rub her clitoris back and forth.

Good grief, it’s a size, I thought, as I easily located it and slipped a finger on either side of it to hold it as I rubbed. I need to be looking to spot Rose’s and she’d never stand me manhandling it like this.

“Oh god, Mick, oh god, oh god, oh god, faster, faster, oh, ooooooooooH!” Denise’s long drawn-out moan spiralled upwards and then she slumped against me and her moisture ran down my fingers and as far as my wrist, “Oh, thank you,” she whispered, clinging to me.

After a while, Denise let go, “You should go,” she said, “Rose will get suspicious.” She handed me the undrunk beer can as I did up my jeans.

“You’ve got lovely tits, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, and a...”

“Out,” she interrupted and walked to the front door, picking up her dress and holding it to her chest, “And you,” she said, as she ushered me out into the night, “have got a very big cock, Rose is a lucky woman.”

The door closed behind me.

That's the first chapter of the e-book 'Denise - MILF vs Wife' by David Timmsdale
Available from all your favourite retailers:
https://books2read.com/u/mgyx66