My wife is a beautiful woman, with long, fiery red hair and crystal green eyes. Her name is Karen and she’s six feet tall, shapeful legs. Her figure is perfect with full, sturdy tits of 39" that require a D-cup bra. Her hips are also 39" but not a gram of fat. She’s got the smoothest, tightest, rounded ass you’ve ever seen. Although her broad hips give her a big ass, her little 24" waist ends from her hour glass figure.
Have you ever wondered what your wife does when she’s at work? Will she come home later than expected, and hurry upstairs to wash and change before you have the chance to exchange a few words? Is she avoiding intimacy as an excuse for having a rough day at the office? Is she wearing inappropriate underwear for work? If this all sounds familiar, you got to keep reading.
I would like to share a story with you about a situation that developed at work a year ago. At the time I worked in the busy service department of an electrical retail company. There were about ten men operating all kinds of household appliances. We had a few girls working at the helpdesk and customer reception down the stairs, but our floor was almost a male dominated environment, so you can imagine the fun among the boys when our service manager employed a really young cleaner. She only worked part-time, but saw her breasts wiggling as they struggled with the electric floor polisher every morning became quite a distraction. At 11:30 she made tea and coffee and brought it to every desk on a tray. The boys could always hurt her, tickle her when she had the tray and was generally messing around. She was a little embarrassed at first, but it wasn’t long before she gave back as good as she got.
It shouldn’t have happened, it shouldn’t have happened, but I just blamed myself and what it would do to my life. It was my 25th birthday, and for some reason, this one hit me really hard. I was happily married, my husband was great with me, and we both had good jobs. I guess everything went so well that I didn’t know what it would be like not to give things to me like I asked them to. A few weeks after my birthday, I was in a real ditch and I couldn’t get myself out. Even my husband Wayne saw that I wasn’t myself and he asked if it was something he did that upset me. I felt bad for him because he had nothing to do with my feelings. I don’t know if it was hormones or what, but I wasn’t happy with my life, but I knew everything in my life was as good as I could. Nothing in my life could prepare me for the wild trip I wanted to take, because I thought I had problems that weren’t even there.