THE GIRL WITH THE PERFECT TITS

My name is Jeanette Johnston, but everyone calls me Jen. And according to people who've seen them, yes, I do have perfect tits.

In high school, although all the boys wanted to see them, and of course touch them, but this was the 1950's and they were off limits.

However, in the girls' locker room, I proudly walked around only somewhat modestly. Some of my girlfriends and I had seen my brother's copy of Playboy, and they commented, "Jen's are nicer than those."

And "Jen, you could model for that magazine with those beauties."

To be honest, there were a number of those high school girls who had bigger ones, and lots in college, but according to everyone, mine were perfect.

It wasn't until college that I finally let a few boys touch them. It was okay, but it wasn't until my senior year when I fucked a couple of guys that I started to enjoy sex, that I realized how much guys loved my tits. Not only did I enjoy sex, but I also enjoyed men staring, touching, sucking.

In the ‘60's while in college, I began to wear a bikini instead of a one piece. I turned heads at the beach, which was my intention. And it wasn't just college guys; men my father's age would stop and stare. I loved it.

Two years after graduation, I married Lennie and we had a good life together. He loved to suck them; liked me to titty fuck him, and when we actually fucked, he liked me to be on top, so he could play with them while I rode his cock. He always called them, ‘your lovely titties.'

It was on our honeymoon that I gave my first blowjob. Lennie loved it, and I loved his reaction when he came. Blowjobs became a regular part of our lovemaking. And he always reciprocated, if you know what I mean.

What I mean is he spent almost as much time with his face in my bush as he did with my tits in his face. Until then, I'd never done much down there; just making sure that my bikini line was clean. Lennie didn't seem to mind, but he did suggest that I keep my labia bare. If it meant more of his tongue, of course I would. Often after eating me, "Jen, I love rubbing my face in your big bush." Of course, I kept it that way. Lennie and I never had any children, and my tits according to Lennie, and the men who stared at me at the beach, remained perfect. There wasn't any noticeable sag.

I wouldn't really say I was an exhibitionist, but around the house, except when I was cooking, I was always topless. Lennie loved it, and often gave them a quick feel, which led to a not so quick feel, and some good fucking; usually with me on top.

It was like that into my 40's, when Lennie suddenly died. I was a widow, and Lennie left me with a very successful business which was worth millions.

It took me almost a year to get Lennie's affairs in order and sell the business.

I didn't think much about sex in that year, but frequently did my housework or watched television braless and in the summer sometimes topless. I liked the feeling of being free.

A year after Lennie's death, I began to start thinking about sex, and wondered if I'd waited long enough or if I was too old.

Three months later, after taking a shower, I took an inventory in the mirror. I needed to be honest with myself. My titties, even with a critical eye, were as perfect as they'd been when I was eighteen.

In fact, on our honeymoon, Lennie took a few pictures of them with a Polaroid. I kept them in our safe. Looking at them now, yes, they were still perfect.

There was some gray in my hair, but my hairdresser took care of that. There was none in my bush, which I still kept my pussy neatly trimmed, and covered only my pubic bone.

I rarely masturbated when Lennie was alive and healthy, and since his death had not done it at all. Now, I lay back on my bed, and fingered myself. I wasn't really trying to get off, I wondered if I still got wet. Lennie called me "juicy."

Yes, I still got juicy, and now I kept going. After all this time, I'd almost forgotten how good it felt.

With the money from the sale of Lennie's business, I was now a very wealthy widow. One day, I sat down and started thinking about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and that included my sex life.

Yes, I wanted a sex life; I wanted men to stare at my tits, and that included my naked tits. I wanted to be on top of a man and shake my titties in his face while his cock was up my pussy. And I wanted a man's tongue to adore my pussy. I also wanted to travel, and that led to a major change in my life.

TO BE CONTINUED