For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Hilda. I live in Canada with my husband Reynard. We are both of Scandinavian decent and have been married for over 30 years. Though I had always been told how pretty I was, the confidence I once had in my body had begun to wane since I had gained the extra weight that comes with age. Other than a pretty face and nice legs, I always thought my best assets were my extra full breasts.
However, over the years, their heavy weight had taken its toll and I was hard pressed to find a brassiere that lifted and supported them properly.
Nevertheless, when Reynard’s young nephew came to visit on the way to his new job in Banff, I discovered that he found me sexually attractive, even though I was nearly twice his age. Up to this time, sex with my husband had been nearly non-existent, and I had turned to masturbation to fulfill my desires. When Reynard suggested I seduce his nephew while he watched in secret, I was only too willing to comply with my husband’s wishes.
It turns out that this was the turning point in our sex life, and it has been very good ever since. Reynard enjoys sharing me with other young men we find in the market, or at the lake. Obviously, I enjoy the young hard bodies as they ravage me. I think they respect the experience of an older woman, and many have complimented me on my full endowment as well as the thickness and mass of my full tangled pubic bush.
One crisp Fall morning at breakfast Reynard was reading the paper and he showed me an advertisement for a new kind of brassiere, something called a Wonder Bra. The department store where it was sold was offering personal fittings by a manufacturer’s representative, who guaranteed a perfect fit for everyone. Since I had complained for so long that I couldn’t find a comfortable bra, Reynard insisted that I go and be fitted by a professional.
That afternoon, bundled up in a wool skirt with matching jacket and ear muffs, I set off for the department store. Once inside, I made my way back to the women’s section and was met by a matronly mannered woman who was probably 10 years my senior. She was professionally dressed in a dark skirt and white silk blouse that clung voluptuously to her full breasts. Her salt and pepper hair was tied back in a bun, secured by a black velvet bow.
I was impressed with her crisp figure and overall professional appearance. “Hi,” she said smiling, sticking out her hand. “My name is Samantha, but my friends call me Sam.” I took her hand. Her skin was smooth and warm, and her long painted nails were beautifully manicured. I was immediately put at ease by her friendly disposition and introduced myself.
“Nice to meet you Hilda,” she replied as she held my hand. “What can I do for you?”
“My husband saw the advertisement in the paper about the Wonder Bra, and he convinced me to come down for a professional fitting,” I replied as she continued to grasp my hand in both of hers. “Are you wearing a Wonder Bra,” I asked, impressed with her sexy figure.
“Of course,” she replied with a bright smile. “I wouldn’t be in this business if I didn’t believe in the product. Why don’t we go in the back and get started so you can see and personally experience the feeling the proper bra will make in your own figure?” she said as she turned toward the fitting rooms.
I followed her into one of several unoccupied dressing rooms in the back of the store. There were full-length mirrors on every wall. As she closed the door to the dressing room she turned and asked me what was my main concern with my present bra. I replied that I could not find a bra that gave me comfortable support of my heavy breasts.
“Lets take off your jacket and let me see what you are talking about,” she replied as she helped me remove my coat. She hung it on a peg on the wall and turned to look at me as I stood there in my calf length wool skirt and thick turtle-neck sweater. “I can tell from your silhouette that your breasts seem to hang rather low,” she said. “I have the same problem, and you can see what the correct bra does for me,” she said as she placed her hands on her narrow waist and turned so as to present her sexy figure to my gaze. “With the proper fitting Wonder Bra we will be able to lift your breasts and allow their fullness to be displayed in complete comfort,” she said. “You obviously have no problem with ample cleavage, so we will concentrate on the symmetrical placement of your breasts under different types of blouses and sweaters.”
As she looked me up and down I felt myself beginning to blush slightly. Her gaze seemed so penetrating, even though I was fully clothed. “You have a very good figure as far as I can tell,” she finally stated.” Lets start by taking off your booties then I want you to lift up your skirt for a moment and let me see the shape of your legs.”
I was momentarily set back at her request, since I had not expected this type of request would be part of a professional bra fitting. She must have sensed my hesitancy because she just smiled and gently explained that the symmetry of all my body parts was part of the overall fitting process. She was so professional I didn’t think twice as I slipped off my shoes and began to lift my skirt. I was wearing thigh length wool stockings since there had been a chilling north wind blowing when I left the house.
As I raised my skirt above my knees Sam knelt on my right side and said she would help me slip my stockings off. Goose bumps began to form on my legs as I felt her hands slide up my leg until she reached half way up my right thigh and grasp my wool hose. “Spread your legs and lift your leg,” she asked as she slowing began rolling my hose downward, her finger tips forced to caress my naked flesh as she worked them off my upper thighs then down my calf.
She lifted my right foot and pulled the socking completely off. I turned to my right so as to allow her access to my left leg. As she ran her hands up under my skirt and along the contours of my left thigh, feeling for the top of my stocking, I could feel a wetness begin to form in my cotton panties. Her hands felt very warm and soft as she slowly began to remove my other stocking. My legs became weak as I shivered slightly so I placed my left hand on her shoulder to steady myself.
“There must be a draft in here,” she said as she continued to work my stocking down my leg. “I felt you shiver and your legs are covered with goose bumps.”
If she only knew the exquisite feelings she was sending through my body. I never thought I would react this way to the touch of another woman, but my pussy was becoming soaked in response to her innocent touch. Finally she lifted my left foot and removed my stocking. She arose to her feet and told me to go ahead and lift my skirt so she could evaluate my upper legs.
I pulled the heavy wool material up to just above my knees, but could go no further. “You have lovely ankles and calves,” she said. “But I need to see your upper legs as well to properly assess your figure.”
It became obvious that I would not be able to lift my skirt much higher because of the amount of material that was bunching up. “Why don’t you take your skirt off since it is so long, and that will make it easier for me to take the proper measurements. Here, let me help you,” she said as she slip behind me and began to unzip my skirt. She gave the material a gentle tug at my hips and the skirt fell to the floor. I stepped out of my skirt and was now standing in my panties in front of a woman who I had met only 10 minutes prior. I shivered again, whether from a draft or the excitement of exposing my body to this prim and proper professional brassiere fitter.
I instinctively held my hands in front of my pubic mound, as a sort of covering. I was intimately aware that, unlike the younger generation of women, my untrimmed pubic growth extended slightly down my inner thighs, outside the confines of my panties and would be clearly visible to Samantha. Sam knelt behind me as she began to take a measurement of my hips with a tape measure she had been carrying around her neck. As he reached around my body with the tape, I felt her face brush against my buttocks. She then leaned back and pulled the tape up against my ass cheeks, her hands resting firming against my flesh, separated only by my thin cotton panties.
“38 inches,” she said as she stood up and began taking notes on a clip board. “Now we are going to check your inseam,” she said as she again knelt behind me. “Spread your legs a little more, Hilda,” she softly said as she held the tape on the inside of my left heal.
I was now concerned about how wet my panties must be and about the pubic hair that would surely be exposed to her gaze. She ran her right hand up my inner thigh and pressed it firmly against the lower crease of my buttocks and the sensitive flesh of my moist vagina. My knees buckled slightly at the touch of her fingers against my wet panties, pressing against the sensitive flesh of my outer labia.
My legs buckled slightly at the touch of her hand against my pussy. “You must keep your legs straight,” she softly said, “in order for me to get the proper measurements.” I straightened up as she pressed the tape firmly against my soaked panties. The feeling of her fingers between the crack of my ass and pressing against my vulva sent shock waves of pleasure throughout my body. Her hand seemed to linger for an extra long time until she finally announced, “26 inches.”
Again she stood up and scribbled some more notes on her clipboard, seemingly oblivious to the dampness on her fingers and my sexually charged state, though the unmistakable musky odor of my arousal hung in the still air.
“Now we will take your waist and bust line measurements,” she said as she stood behind me. Lift up your sweater, honey.”
I willingly obeyed as she snaked her arms around my waist and drew the tape snug in the small of my back.. “30 inches,” she said. I knew I had developed a bit of a belly, and now I made a mental note to get to the gym more often.
“OK, Hilda, lift your arms for me. “We’ll take one measurement of your bust with your sweater on, and another with it off,” she said. Sam now carefully placed the tape around the fullest part of my breasts, her fingers caressing the firm flesh as she pulled the tape around my back. I could feel my nipples begin to swell. “40 inches,” she said as she again wrote more notes on her clipboard.
“OK, now lets slip off your sweater and take another measurement,” she said. By now I was looking forward to stripping down to my bra and panties as I peeled the sweater off and over my head. I stood naked before her, save for my bra and panties. My whole body was now covered with goose bumps as Samantha again moved up behind me. I could feel the heat radiating from her body as she pressed against my backside, her sweet breath blowing against my shoulder.
“Lift your arms again, honey,” she cooed as I willingly complied. She wrapped her own arms around me, placing the tape across my breasts and again caressed my breasts as she pulled it tight against my back. “39 inches,” she said. “You see, your sweater takes up an inch, so you can see why we take two measurements, with and with out the outer garment,” she coolly explained.
“I think, in order to get a precise measurement, and to make sure you get the best possible fit, we should take one more measurement without your bra,” she explained. “Sometimes, depending on the length of a customer’s nipples, we can be off on our measurements by more than a half inch.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. It was beginning to seem more obvious that this woman was trying to seduce me as much as I was trying to be seduced. The moment of truth had now arrived as I felt Sam unhooking my bra. When the snaps came loose, I leaned forward slightly, allowing each strap to slip over my shoulders and down my arms. As my bra fell free I crossed my arms in front of my chest and pulled the large cups off my ample melon sized tubes. I dropped the bra to the floor and allowed my arms to hang limp at my sides, shivering in anticipation.
Samantha slipped her arms beneath my own and reached around me and cupped each heavy globe in her warm soft hands. “In order to get the best measurement I’ll need to stimulate your nipples to get them to elongate to their fullest length,” she whispered in my ear. “It’s important that you let me know what feels the best, so we can get your nipples good and hard.”
My legs trembled with excitement as she began to caress my naked breasts, lifting them and cupping their fullness as if she were inspecting ripe melons. Occasionally she would tweak my nipples between her fingers, twisting and pinching them gently. I could feel her pressing and slightly grinding her hips against my full buttocks. My nipples responded to her experienced touch as she continued to lift and cup my breasts and allow them to fall heavily from her grasp.
“Does that feel good,” she whispered hoarsely, as she encouraged me to allow my nipples to harden. I boldly told her that my nipples got the hardest and longest when my husband sucked on them. She gently turned me around and bent over and lifted my right breast in her hands and pressed her mouth to my nipple. She sucked on its turgid length like a child nursing at her mother’s breast. Her warm tongue lavished praise on my tender nipple as my pussy continued to soak my panties with pre-coital juices.
I reached out caressed her own full breasts through the thin material of her blouse as she continued to suckle at my breasts. She ran her right hand down my side and across my naked belly until she slipped it down inside my panties. As she continued to nurse on my nipples, she ran her fingers through my tangled pubic bush, luxuriating in its silky texture and the length of its moist intertwined strands. By now I was beginning to feel the familiar stirrings of an orgasm building, deep within my loins. I had never been touched this intimately by another woman, but I was enjoying myself immensely, completely at ease with her soft touch and caresses.
She now began to dip a finger between the wet folds of my swollen labia and easily slipped it inside my vaginal opening. As she pistoned her finger in and out of my vagina, she rhythmically rubbed her thumb against my clitoris, which had now poked its swollen head from beneath the sensitive protective sheath of skin, much like a small erect penis. The insistent sucking sensation of her mouth on my swollen nipples coupled with her soft hand stroking my sopping wet pussy was more than I could bear, and I soon realized I could not hold back much longer.
I whimpered that she was going to make me cum if she didn’t stop. That only seemed to make her more daring as she dropped to her knees and pulled my panties down to my ankles. As I stepped out of my panties I spread my legs to give her complete access to the object of her affection as she buried her face between my legs and began to suck and lick my swollen clit. The feeling of this woman’s mouth on the most sensitive part of my body sent me over the edge as my orgasm built to an uncontrollable tension, begging for release.
I grasped her head and held it tight against my vulva as I began to involuntarily grind my hips, pressing my pubic mound against her face, as wave after orgasmic wave rushed through my body. Before long, the intense orgasm caused my knees to buckle and I collapsed to the floor.
Samantha knelt over me, smiling down as she began to unbutton her blouse. I watched in fascination as she slipped her silk blouse from her shoulders, reached back to unhook her bra, then allowed he own heavy breasts to fall free before my lust crazed gaze. I reached up and began to fondle her full globes, which were only slightly smaller than my own. She leaned over me, allowing her pendulous breasts to hang directly over my mouth. She lowered her left breast to my face as I began to suckle on her turgid nipple. She sighed out loud and moaned as I sucked her creamy tender flesh into my mouth. I reached up with both hands and lifted her skirt in order to gain access to her panties. I forcefully peeled them down like the ripe skin off a grape, exposing her buttocks and dripping pubic mound.
As I continued to nurse at her breasts, I ran my fingers between her ass cheeks, tickling her rose bud, and pressing a finger into her nether hole. The juices from her pussy provided ample lubrication as I pressed my finger inside her dark passage, up to the second knuckle. As I continued to squeeze the firm flesh of her plump buttocks and ream her ass hole, she reached between her thighs and began to masturbate herself. I had a mouth full of hard nipple and a finger up her ass as she groaned in orgasmic delight. After several spasms she collapsed on top of me, breathing hard, her full naked breasts pressed firmly against my own. Our hard nipples caressed each other as she slid off and lay on the floor next to me, panting like a dog in heat.
After several minutes we got up and dressed in silence. Samantha straightened out her skirt and blouse and retied the black ribbon in her hair. “I think I have the perfect size bra for you,” she said as we exited the dressing room. “I know you have earned my two-for-the-price-of-one special,” she smiled as she squeezed my hand and led me out onto the sales floor.