I hate sitting in doctor’s offices. I did that for years as a kid, waiting for my dad to finish up so we could go home and eat. But here I am sitting beside my wife, waiting to go in to see the doctor. Here’s a hint, be the third patient of the day. By then the doc is in his office, to see patients, and you get the third exam room, so you don’t have to sit in the lobby where all the old, dirty, torn-up mags are. If you wait till the end of the day, like Sheila and I had done today, you’ll wait until the nurses have all gone home and had their supper and are coming back for second shift.

Just kidding, we had only waited for about forty minutes when the obese nurse gruffly ‘asked’ us to “Come on back”.

Actually, I’ve gotten way ahead of myself here, as usual, lets go back to the beginning.

We have a ranch. We raise horses. I inherited it from my father’s estate quit a few years ago. Beautiful acreage, I must say. Frankly I was not much interested in ranching, or for that matter in horses. So when I first took it over, I left the running of the ranch to the same trustworthy fine fellow that my dad had hired to run it. I moved into the house, set up my bachelor style house keeping, and kept on keeping on with my regular job.

Then when I was 30 something, I met Sheila. She was barely 21 when we met. She was slender and vivacious, a red head full of life, enthusiasm, and good ideas. She allowed me to be me, and I allowed her to be herself as well, and it really worked for us. We got married at a dreamy June wedding held next to a horse pasture. The horses are in the wedding pictures, if that tells you something.

Sheila simply loves horses. Under her steadfast guidance, the horse farm took off. Well, I just tell you that part of the story, cause it is pretty important to how all this came about.

After we married, we of course talked about having kids. And for several years we tried, sure that it was just a matter of fucking enough at the right time of the month. But we had a hard time getting it to stick, so Sheila eventually went to the baby doctor and got checked out. The doc taught her how to measure her internal temperature.

It worked the first time!

And suddenly ‘we’ were with child. We planned, did the baby room, bought all the right stuff, and waited for our beautiful baby to enter our world.

Sheila still loves to ride, and was riding and training horses everyday until under a month before Baby was born.

Watching Baby emerge from within my wife’s body was the most intense thing I have ever watched. Foals drop out of their mother and begin to walk about in a few hours. Not so, human babies. Human babies require 40 hours a day of care! But Sheila as always was up to the task. Watching my daughter nurse at Sheila’s breasts became one of the most intensely erotic visions of my life.

Now, just so you know, Sheila’s natural breasts were quite small. I think she told me she barely filled an ‘A’ cup brassiere. She had long nipples that seemed quite at odds with her diminutive natural breast size. But as her milk came in, her breasts swelled to gloriously plump voluptuousness. Sheila had not gained much weight during her pregnancy, so her figure became that classic hourglass shape that women seem to like to have so much. With us men, we just like to find a willing pussy. It is all we ask for in a woman besides well-cooked meals and a clean house.

Our beautiful Baby was healthy and happy for a few wonderful months. About the fifth month, she stopped gaining weight. The doctors were unsuccessful in finding the cause. A month later, our beautiful child was gone.

[Pardon me for a minute while I blow my nose]

So our baby was gone.

That is hard on a couple.

And it was hard on us.

It was particularly hard on Sheila. It was months before I saw her smile again. And the ocean of tears we shed seemed to do nothing to ease the inconsolable ache in our hearts.

[Sorry, have to blow my nose again]

Well, about that time, an imperfect little foal dropped. Something about the little filly brought out the maternal instinct in Sheila. Sheila adopted the little thing and nursed it day and night. The furry little lass made it, thanks solely to Sheila’s love and devotion. With untold hours of her intense dedication, the little filly grew up to become a world class filly.

Getting ahead of myself again.

About ten months after our Baby went to her maker, I walked into the bedroom to find Sheila looking at her tits in the full length mirror we have in the bedroom. No longer were her tits the voluptuous beauties that had been our daughter’s food supply. Now they sagged lifeless against my wife’s stomach.

As I stood there silently watching, she lifted them, one at a time, staring unhappily at their withered forms in the mirror. She repeatedly lifted them, then dropped them, observing how they had no self support, how they would fall with a plop against her still firm, flat stomach. Her perfect nipples now pointed straight down at the floor. A tear or two trickled down her cheek.

That night as I was lying beside her, knowing we were somehow at a crossing point in our marriage, I decided to be a bit more aggressive with her. Sex had been nonexistent between us since we lost Baby. It just seemed like we no longer wanted each other any more. But, that night, as a concerned husband and a man, I slowly brought my hand up to her breast. I toyed with its shapeless form for a while, getting no response from Sheila. She just lay there staring at the ceiling there as I toyed with her shrunken teat.

Sensing that she was not enjoying what I was doing, I stopped after a bit, slid my hand down onto her stomach, and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she sat down in front of me and with huge vulnerable eyes asked “Hon, are we going to make it?”

The ensuing discussion was painful for both of us. But we did thrash though some issues that had been postponed for far too long.

Sheila began to feel more whole again as she watched her frisky little foal develop into the perfect horse that horse people always seem to dream about having.

When the filly was three years, Sheila was offered 175 thousand dollars for her.

To my great surprise, she took it.

A week later, Sheila sat me down and told me she intended to use the money she had gotten for the filly for breast enhancement surgery.

I was surprised but not shocked, I guess I would say.

In her search for the right plastic surgeon, Sheila did her normal fastidious research, which eventually lead to her decision to use a doctor whose practice was located in Hollywood. The location of his business was not a surprise, not if he really was the best. He was of course booked for over a year ahead. His fee structure elicited a strangled gasp from me when I saw them. My wife called and made her appointment. He made no apology for his advertised fees.

During our year of waiting, my wife began to exercise religiously, running as many as ten miles a day. This was all on top of her arduous daily horse-training regimen. Her waist became impossibly thin, and her legs were gorgeous, tan, muscular, and stretching all the way from her feet to her perfect little bubble butt.

Finally Sheila’s date for her appointment approached. She somehow talked me into going with her. We drove the twelve hours to get there since I am paranoid about flying in those silly silver tubes that make way too much noise, and are stocked with high priced food, stale strangely shaped chips, and bitchy stewardesses.

During that year we waited for her appointment, Sheila turned thirty. And I of course turned forty something. We made love again for the first time on her thirtieth birthday. It was glorious. I could hardly walk the next day. Hearing my wife giggle again made it all worthwhile [I am winking as I say that]

Our previously nonexistent sex life picked up quickly, and soon I was having to utilize my mouth and fingers to provide my wife with enough satisfaction. We bought a few toys to supplement my erections. We bought Viagra and Cialus and Levitra. Then we bought some more toys. Over the next few months, my wife became a highly sexual creature, her face now smiling almost all of the time. She seemed to be coming back alive, finally seeing the sunlight in her dreams. I noticed that she also began glancing furtively at the crotches of well-built men. She even began allowing me to watch her more and more frequent masturbation sessions, her voice murmuring explicit, four letter instructions to her fantasy lovers.

The trip to LA included several stops to satisfy her increasing prurience. She had brought several of her favorite toys, and even began to use them in the car as we drove along. She seemed to revel in her new role of sex goddess. The smell of sex permeated our car’s interior like the smell of a new car does.

During the trip, she even showed a man a quick glimpse her lower body as we drove along. I was shocked. The guy followed us for nigh on two hundred miles, periodically flashing his lights in my rear view mirror or pulling along side to smile and wave at Sheila. Sheila grinningly would wave back, smiled big time at him, and blow him kisses.

He started making motions as though he wanted to se her tits. That was when Sheila sat back in her seat, crossed her arms against her chest, and scowled for several uncomfortable miles.

That night at the motel, she fucked me to a standstill, then after I had fallen asleep, went down to the bar. Alone. She had a hickey on her neck the next morning. She refused to talk about it. Things were a little tense that next day as we went to her doctor’s appointment.

I was required to sit in the waiting room for the four hours she was being seen by the medical staff. Thank god I had thought to bring a good book.

When Sheila walked out of the doctor’s office into the waiting room, she had a look on her face that I had not seen before. It was about half way between imp and devil. I noticed that her lower lip was slightly pouty, sexy in a slightly European movie star kind of way.

At dinner she was definitely checking out the waiters. That night, with the lights out, she surprised me by sucking on my penis, not withdrawing until after I had spurted. She grinned at my surprise as she told me she loved the taste of men’s cum. I didn’t point out that the only men I knew about her sampling was me. She then worked on my penis until it was hard again, and mounted me, her body doing all of the work of our coupling. What a distinct difference there is when the woman is on top! I could actually lay back and enjoy myself. And the words that came out of her mouth that night! They would have made a drunk sailor blush!

Surgery was scheduled for three days later.

The second night, as we waited for her surgery, she told me she had told the plastic surgeon that she wanted to have “jutty tits”. The surgeon had shown her pictures of various previous implants and surgeries, and she had pointed and told him, “Like this picture, but even more ‘jutty’”. She had told the surgeon she wanted them to be high on her chest, and to be wonderfully firm yet resilient, but feel ‘real’ to anyone that touched them. And if at all possible, she didn’t want to have to wear a bra to keep them up. That added about 13 grand to his final quote.

I remember playing back her comment in my mind, after she had cum 5 times and gone to sleep, that she had said ‘Anyone that touches them.’ That was when I had my first premonition that my life was about to change drastically. Maybe I should have taken a stand at that point.

=++++++++=

After her surgery, we drove back home, her sleeping a lot, me wondering about her ‘Anyone’ comment. We took a full two days going home, rather than cramming it into a long day and a half.

She kept to herself for the recovery period before we were due back to see the doc for her postoperative exam. During that period she locked the door to the bathroom whenever she was in there, and she wore cheek high ankle length flannel pajamas to bed every night. Toward the end of her recovery period, I would hear her murmuring her four letter instructions to her fantasy lovers behind the bathroom door.

The trip back to LA took forever it seemed. We had little conversation. She would not let me listen to my talk shows without constant complaining about their drivel. So it became hour upon tedious hour of contentious marital silence.

Which brings me back to where I started my story.

The obese nurse motioned us to come back to the exam room. To my surprise, my wife took my hand and tugged on it to invite me to come back with her. I followed, old fat ass in the Mickey Mouse nurse’s uniform glaring at me as I passed.

My wife ignored the fashionable cover that the nurse left for her to wear. She simply stripped down, her eyes sparkling in anticipation of what her new body would look like. I asked her if she were nervous, and she nodded, looking down at the floor as she removed her panties. I almost fell out of my chair when I saw that her pussy was totally bare. Gone was her flaming red pussy hair. She had removed all the hair around her womanhood! She stood before me, her hands on her hips, her body turned full square to me, and asked “Like my naked cunt hon?”

What does a husband say to a question like that?

I wanted to ask her why. I wanted to ask her when. I wanted to ask her who for? But I just sat there and starred at her little kitty, bare, vulnerable, and obviously slightly moist.

I held the fashionable nightgown shaped cover up to her, but she ignored it, turning to face the door through which the doc would come. It occurred to me at that time, she wanted the doctor to see her naked, to see her bare pussy.

About fifteen minutes passed before the doc strode in, leaving the exam room door open, exposing my wife to anyone who happened to walk by. She didn’t even flinch.

Instead my wife was grinning brazenly at the doctor. And I was starring at my naked wife. It was not until he put his hand on the wrappings around her chest that I realized that the doctor, the foremost plastic surgeon in the world for breast implants, was coal black. I have no idea how I derived the stereotype in my head, that the guy would be white, or maybe even from India. But I found myself staring at him as he put his black hand, covered in a black latex glove, on my wife’s tiny brilliantly white cunt and began to search for stubble.

His voice held a hint of a British accent. “It would appear that your vaginal hair has been successfully exfoliated. He put his finger inside her vaginal lips and opened them, bending over to examine her better. His handsome black face was inches from my wife’s previously flaming red haired vagina. I watched his dark finger enter my wife as he further examined each vaginal lip.

My wife was raptly staring at his hand on her privacy, her mouth slightly open, her hips tilted forward to give him easy entry and use. Her eyes were glazed as she watched his minute inspection of her naked, bare cunt. I could see that she was breathing hard.

“Please sit on the exam table and spread your thighs widely so that I might look lower, Ma’am,” he requested of her. My wife quickly hopped up on the exam table and instantly spread her legs as wide as I have ever seen them spread. She then raised her knees and leaned slightly back on her elbows as her eyes took in his dark face, his body, and his dark hands as they reached for my wife’s totally exposed cunt.

The doctor placed the back of his latex covered first finger on her little rosebud, then slowly moved his finger upward, feeling for stray hairs. The tiny mouth of my wife’s pussy sprang open as though inviting him to enter her.

And he did. He again inserted his finger into her, this time pressing down and back. I could clearly see the sparkle of her moisture inside her sheathe in the exam room spotlight.

Her eyelids were fluttering as she watched him look deeply into her body.

He carefully checked her perineum for stray hairs, his face only a few inches from wife’s exposed vulnerability.

I flushed bright red as I realized I was as hard as a rock in my trousers. I was embarrassed and ashamed of my prurient thoughts and reactions. This was a doctor doing a pelvic exam on a woman, for god’s sake! But I had no control of what my dick was doing. The harder I tried to lose it, the harder and more engorged my dick became.

I could actually smell the musky scent of my wife’s obvious arousal. Her eyes rolled back into the top of her head.

Suddenly my wife began to convulse on the exam room table. Panicking, I saw that the doctor had withdrawn his fingers from within her. Sheila was mumbling “oh yeah, oh god oh yeah, of fuck yeah.” The cognizant gleam and twinkle in the doctor’s eyes made me realize that my wife was having an orgasm, not a seizure.

After a bit, my wife collapsed onto her back, her thighs splayed wide in ultimate capitulating acceptance of anyone wishing to enter her.

The doctor circumspectly allowed her to lie there for a few moments while he completed some paperwork. Several people walked by the open door and glanced in at my wife’s wide-open thighs, her nakedness on full display. Had I not been so close to my own orgasm, I might have stepped forward and at least closed her thighs.

But as I sat there in turmoil, my wife reached down between her splayed thighs and felt her own cunt, her fingers lovingly stroking it, her face glowing from her orgasm, her mouth smiling at the doctor as she murmured, “I love how she feels now Doctor! She is so smooth and so soft without all that stubbly hair down there!”

The doctor smiled knowingly and asked “Are you ready to see your new breasts yet?”

My wife nodded eagerly and sat up straight. Did I hear a slight squishing sound?

Sheila eagerly thrust her chest out at the doctor, her eyes impatiently watching his dark hands as he removed the latex gloves.

Over the next few minutes he gently, carefully removed the wrappings from my wife’s chest. He was standing between me and my wife much of the time, so I was afraid I would not see their unveiling. But the good doctor was a true showman, as he removed the last of the wraps, he stepped back and away, allowing me to see my wife’s glorious new shape.

They were breathtaking! My wife was staring down at them, her face a mixture of apprehension and pride. Then, as I watched her face, she looked at me and smiled. “Do you like them honey?”

All I could do was nod, open mouthed, as I stared at the sexiest pair of breasts I had ever seen, in life or on the net, or even air paint touched in a magazine.

They were “jutty” all right. What a pair of knockers! They seemed to point straight forward, from high up on her chest, those enviably long nipples jutting straight out like a welcoming pair of fingers.

I watched as the doctor placed his black, unprotected hands directly on my wife’s snow-white tits, kneading them roughly, moving them about, then finally squeezing them both hard as he massaged them.

My wife’s eyelids were fluttering again. I could see her breathing becoming heavier again. I could imagine her newly naked pussy beginning to flood as she approached another of her recently explosive orgasms.

“I feel no unresolved scar tissue, Ma’am. Everything seems normal. I think you are ready to enjoy your new body without restriction. Congratulations on a successful surgery!”

Smiling at her, he stepped back away from the exam table. Sheila literally sprang from the table, gathered him into her arms, and pressing her cunt against his crotch, pressing her lips against his, hugged him for dear life as she had another of her explosive, cunt-wrenching orgasms. The surprised doctor held her in his arms as she trembled and whimpered in desperate release. She clung to the doctor until her shudders finally subsided. Then embarrassed, wobbly, stepped back against the exam table and supported herself there, her breathing ragged and her naked body heaving. It took her a few moments to recover, by then the good doctor, walking a bit disjointedly himself, his crotch obviously wet from mutually released fluids, was gone and the fat ass nurse was back with her scornful, insipid attitude. I decided that the outright envy in the nurse’s eyes as she stared at Sheila’s naked quivering body was sufficient payback for the battle-axe.

Sheila was so very wobbly legged that I almost had to carry her out to the car, and then up to our hotel room. I laid her on the hotel bed then covered her up. She looked up at me and smiling unapologetically proudly murmured, “God did I cum hard both times!” With that, she drifted off to sleep.

My cock and testicles were so tender and sensitive that they felt like they had been beaten by a baseball bat. I undressed trying hard not to make too much noise. My dick was hard as steel. I tried not to touch myself, but eventually had no choice but give in to my excruciating needs. I had barely begun stroking myself when I heard Sheila murmur, “Don’t waste it baby, cum fuck me and fill your slutty wife’s hairless cunt with it.”

I lasted three strokes.

Sheila chuckled throatily as I spasmed out of control. “It was all worth it all baby, to feel you need to fuck me that bad.”

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