She once again apologized, and Ibelieved her when she said she had no idea that lady would glue thebreasts to my chest, but still, I was the one stuck...with them! Therewas no way that I could hide them, and that meant that I would have todress like a girl every day until after the wedding, almost two monthsaway! Mom squeezed my hand as we walked to a small caf?, got a softdrink and sat at a small table."I guess," mom said softly, "we're all stuck now, aren't we? And you'llhave to believe me when. Ironically, I met him at the same beach where my story unfolds.I was a virgin when I met him, and he was the only man I had ever been with. We were married in 1986 and life was good. My first experience with black cock occurred when I had just turned twenty-two. I was still young, five-foot-eight-inches, with perky 36C breasts, shapely thighs and hips, and an amazing ass, made for taking black cock... or so I’ve been told.My sex life with my husband consisted of sex once a week. I didn’t have. To have all my girls with me, who I loved with all my heart, was a bliss beyond human comprehension. We hadn’t just played last night, we all made love, whether it was rough or vanilla, I bonded with each of them. There was nothing left between any of us. It’s a feeling that can’t be classified, the joy you feel to be surrounded by those who truly love you, and not in the way you love your friends or relatives, but true romantic love. I never wanted this day to end. I wanted to lie here in bed,. 'Mum told me once, he used to get an erection, every time my name was mentioned', she was like that, making fun of everything, but we were special, we had a strong bond, as if we were sisters, doing everything together, sharing like for like, and indulging in our similar tastes in life, including sex, yes we did indulge in the womanly stuff, it helped cement our bond, we even thought seriously about just having one man, and he could fertilize us and be our husband, and we could have our.