Wife with huge knockers

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Several years ago, I had just gotten out of my first marriage which had been a total loss; the girl, also her first marriage, nagged so much I almost couldn’t bring myself to have sex with her in spite of her natural good looks. I guess it’s true what they say, that “Looks aren’t everything.” As is usually the scenario, I started looking for new partners in the Bar Scene. One night, I was out on the town with a male friend of mine named Jacinto. We went to a local country & western bar in the next town to see what we could find.

On entering the bar, there was a line of people on both sides of the hallway, as though both guys and girls were inspecting cattle at market. The last girl in the line was a somewhat homely looking gal with a huge set of knockers and a big wide, but well shaped ass. I remember thinking she resembled some sort of dog, the kind they say “…so ugly it’s cute”. Well, you know what they say happens to girls at closing time.
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Fat Niki banged

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It was a drizzly Sunday morning and I finally had the house to myself.

Niki’s stunning green eyes were glued to the hallway mirror as she applied her rich red lipstick. I cleared my throat.

“What time are you back, my queen?” I asked with a high-pitch stammer.

She circled the small tube around her mouth before pursing her lips, and I wondered whether she’d even heard me. Twisting the lipstick closed, she popped it into her handbag.

“No idea,” she responded without turning her head, and retrieved a mascara from the handbag.

Her dress was the deepest purple and hugged her voluptuous figure. Her wide, round behind looked irresistible under the expensive fabric, and I pictured myself sliding my hands around the curves of her waist and kissing her neck.

“Are you eating out for lunch?” I squeaked, cowering behind the frame of the living-room door.

She made her way in my direction and my heart jumped as I dared to hope for a goodbye kiss. Instead she snatched the keys to her pink SUV from the end-table next to me and walked on by.

“I love you, my queen!” I cried, but the door had already slammed shut behind her.

I teetered on the edge of the sofa and switched on the TV. The roar of Niki’s SUV resonated throughout our peaceful suburban street, and with one eye I followed her as she backed out of the driveway. My heart was pounding. The moment her rear bumper was out of view, I leaped up and rushed upstairs to our bedroom.

Harsh sunlight burned in through the windows. I crept over to the curtains and drew them shut, enveloping myself in thick darkness. My pulse cracked in my temple. After taking a deep breath, I made my way over to Niki’s walk-in closet. I nudged the door open and felt along the wall for the switch. The room exploded with light and I slipped inside.

Designer dresses hung proudly along both sides while endless pairs of shoes, still housed in their boxes, waited bored on shelves. With my ears pricked, I tiptoed toward a brown woven basket at the far end and peered inside.
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