Hello! I’m a 36m here in LA for work, 6’ tall, green eyes, brown/blonde hair, handsome, 190lbs, HWP. Something just happened today. TL;DR version: I ended up groping a man’s wife’s big tits while we he watched (details on that encounter below, if you’re interested). I want to do that again.

I want to go in for a hug and then slowly run my hands up under your breasts, cupping them gently. Then, maybe I run my big, strong hands up over your top, gently kneading your tits and telling you how amazing they are. You’d like that wouldn’t you? I can even rub your neck and shoulders, if you’d like. You’ve been working so hard lately…

Once we’re done, you get another hug and I send you on your way, incredibly turned on. Single ladies (or no), message me if this interests you.

Still there? Okay. Here’s more on what happened today…

They were here for something at the convention centre (so was I) and she and I struck up a conversation over something casual. She was flirty from the start. She was tall, with shoulder length bleach blonde hair, well-made up, and she wore a white, form-fitting, long sleeve top. The kind with the meshing over the shoulders and across the chest. You could tell by her shape, and the classy bit of cleavage visible underneath the mesh she was busty. Maybe even enhanced. A pair of dark tight jeans and high black boots completed the look. We were all smiles and then her husband joined us, a handsome salt-and-pepper man in his 50s. I was much taller then him. She introduced us. He was kind and cool the whole time.

Eventually the conversation shifted to my being in LA for work and looks were exchanged between them. Hints were dropped about places to grab a drink later. I agreed and said that could be fun.

That’s when she dropped the bomb on me. “My husband really likes it when I show off to other men.”

Okayyyy.

“And we’d like to know,” she says as she leans in. “If you’d like to feel my tits.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Oh, sure,” I said, rather shocked. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Follow me,” she said. This wasn’t her first time. Her hips seem to have a little extra sway as she led me off to a private (handicap or maybe staff?) washroom. The husband walked beside me. Not giving off serial killer vibes or anything. “She does this sometimes. I love it,” he said with a cool smile. “I paid top dollar for those tits, so make the most of it.”

She let herself in to the restroom. “Wait for a couple mins and follow me in.” I stood there for what should have been a super awkward two minutes but the husband was still very chill and charming. “After you,” he said after chatting about the weather for a bit.

I walked into the bathroom and he followed but stayed by the door. She was leaning back against the counter, shoulders back, back arched. “All yours,” she purred with only a hint of nervousness.

“You both sure?” I asked, making eye contact. “Yes, please,” she added and her husband nodded. I adore explicit consent and you should too, dear reader.

“Okay,” I replied. “A hug first,” I said. I’m a hugger. So I went in, chest to chest and felt her put her two hands between my shoulders blades and pull me. I responded by doing the same. I was hard as a rock. She would’ve felt my member pressing into her by now, no question, and she let out a soft sigh. We continued the hug, rocking back and forth, and I let one hand slip to her lower back as I pulled away a bit to look into her eyes. They were a really dark brown, and blazed a milfy-type horniness. She met my gaze, barely blinking and arched her back. I let my eyes drop. “Jesus,” I whispered, taking in her rack. Her tits were big. I swallowed hard before returning my eye to meet hers. “No, you should keep looking at them.” She pulled her top up over them. She had a beige colour bra with subtle lacing. Her tits fell together, making a perfect line of cleavage. She had subtle tan lines. Her stomach was tone and flat.

This woman. Fuck.

“Okay,” I said slowly and my hands over top of them, enjoying her soft skin. “Fuck,” I said as I moved to grab them both. Fuck they felt amazing!

“Yes…” she hissed. “Keep going. Kiss them.” I kissed the tops of her breasts and squeezed them, telling her how amazing they were. This continued for about ten minutes or so until the natural rhythm began to wide down. She was breathing hard by now. So was I.

We said our goodbyes and she and her husband left after we exchanged numbers. They said they’d be in touch. I just got a text while writing this; a picture of her tits in that same bra. “Lovely to meet you. Talk soon!”

I love LA.