A Memoir of the New Paradigm  Chapter 4 
by Sunblind - written for DTM / Amy's Conquest



*** The Below is an extended segment from this story, written for us by an

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Diana The Valkyrie, and our own Amy's Conquest!

For the Full Story of "A Memoir of the New Paradigm (Chapter 4)", please visit

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Thanks all, and as always, hope you Enjoy! ***

********************

I know there are people out there who will be unhappy over the fact that I
don't record every detail of every sexual encounter that I refer to in this
memoir. To those people, I say: Everyone is entitled to their opinion...but
there is this thing called pacing...and well...everyone is entitled to their
opinion.

Specifically, at this point, I am harking back to the sex Janey and I had
following the upheavals of the first night of our honeymoon. The problem is
that there are only so many ways to detail the manner in which two consenting
adults paw all over one another, until one, or the other, or both, can no
longer stand the denial, and a penis finds its way into a vagina, (or in the
mien of the New Paradigm, a vagina grabs onto, envelopes, and subdues a
penis), and the shit gets real.

By way of describing the color and intensity of the particular sexual
encounter in question, suffice it to reference the conversation we had as we
were leaving the room, after having showered and dressed; headed to the
breakfast buffet.

We were at the door walking out, and we turned back to the room. What a sight.
A two-foot by three-foot mirror completely shattered and hanging askew. The
Teacup Restraint broken into fifty pieces, which were strewn all over the
room. The Teacup Restraint's bracket pulled halfway off its moorings; the
Teacup Restraint's handle sticking out of the door, as if shot there like an
arrow fired on some old western fort.

And then there was the bed, which had not fared well throughout our most
recent bout of sex. I'm no expert, but the frame had clearly cracked. It was
like a "V" with the head and the foot about twenty inches above the middle, at
about a thirty-degree angle.

I put my arm over her shoulders. We were both just staring straight ahead at
all the carnage.

"I thought that one of your enhancements was that when you touched
something..."

"It is..."

"Did you..."

"I did not."

"So, it was on the whole time?"

"It was."

"We're probably going to have to pay for this."

A few beats went by.

"Hungry?"

"I could eat."

We walked to breakfast. She'd bought the dog collar and leash, because she
thought I would rather walk. Outward appearances for the rest of the world.
Her reasoning: all about my feelings.

At breakfast, Janey laid out her plan for the week. Basically, the idea was:
sleep late, breakfast buffet until about 10:30, a daily excursion, including
lunch, until about 4:30, back to the room, a quick shower, glorious sex,
cocktails on the private beach area in front of our villa, another quick
shower, dinner at 8:30, hit one of the three "man-friendly" clubs in town for
dancing until about 1am. In bed around 2...a bit of groping...sleep. Repeat.

The excursions she'd planned included climbing this amazing hundred-tiered
waterfall, a guided raft trip down a lazy river, horseback riding (one day on
the beach; another in the mountains), sightseeing down the coast, and a
private snorkelling trip. Everything was wonderful, we had a wonderful
week...and the Testostrogen flowed...and Janey (and I) had the perfect
honeymoon.

And I even managed to keep Janey from figuring out that I was blind in my left
eye, until I disclosed it to her about two months after we'd returned home.

It was a Friday afternoon; mid-October, her junior year of college, my first
year of grad school. We'd been back from our honeymoon for about two months.
Our days were idyllic. Classes during the day. Studying at our very own
kitchen table in the evenings. Making love in our very own bed; it seemed like
every night. It should have been impossible, but it seemed to me that our love
was actually growing, each day, in a visceral manner. I could actually feel it
growing on a daily basis.

Since returning, I had seen a couple of doctors. Living in the city in which
we did, we were very lucky to have access to arguably the best medical care in
the world. And the verdict was pretty clear ... I was permanently blind in my
left eye.

Upon returning to the row house that we were renting, I stripped, and went to
the foot of the stairs. Janey was already home. On Fridays, she just had a
couple of recitations ... no labs. It had always been our policy: no studying
on Friday evenings; just relaxing. By Friday evenings, we were so wiped out
that we were better served by resting.

I went to the foot of the stairs because it was centrally located. I stopped,
and, in a normal speaking voice, asked that she come to our living room. I
didn't need to raise my voice, because with her super-powered senses, no
matter where in the house she was, she had already heard me come in. And now,
I quickly heard that she was upstairs, and on her way down.

When she turned the corner of the hall, I was rewarded with a beaming smile.
We had been apart for nearly nine hours. She was dressed in one of the flowy
dresses that was her usual. This one was a light red. She was barefoot, and
her hair was loose, and long. I almost couldn't breathe from how beautiful she
was.

She came down the stairs at about a hundred miles an hour and leaped into my
arms. She wrapped her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck. Due to
her "climb the air" enhancement, I held her easily. And she kissed me all over
my face, and when she was finished, she leaned back, and said, "Hello,
Gorgeous!"

I kissed her once. Very deeply.

"How was your day?"

"Ugh. Bio-chem. My least favorite. How was yours?"

By this time, I had walked us to the couch, and I sat, and she slid off of my
hips, to my right. (For once, she was on my right.) "It was interesting.
Listen, I need to tell you something ... and it's probably going to take this
night in a direction you weren't expecting, but I hope, not for too long." Her
look was of puzzlement and concern.

"I'm okay." I smiled to reassure her. "We're okay." And I re-gathered her on
to my lap, and put my arms around her, and gentled her head onto my shoulder.

"Janey, I'm going to say this fast, with no frills, to not prolong it." And I
spoke quickly, but clearly. "I can't see out of my left eye any more. I'm
blind in my left eye. I've seen two of the top doctors at the university ... I
just came from the second one ... and there's no chance of me regaining my
sight. I'm sorry, I kept it from you, but I was hoping ... "

Her head had come up at the word "blind," and the look of horror on her face
had broken through to my core consciousness.

She reached up, and put her hand on my left temple, and stared deeply into my
left eye. Her confusion and concern were clearly overwhelming her, and it was
with great effort she formed the words ... "When...How could I not have ...
How old were we ... Has this always been ... How long ... " Her voice trailed
off. She was putting it together. I tightened my grip on her and braced for
the storm.

And she got a hold of herself. "A.J.?"

I leaned in and brushed cheeks with her. "Janey ... baby. Please, hold it
together. It's not that bad. Really, I'm fine."

"You're fine?" she pulled back from where our faces were touching. "A.J.," her
voice was stern, but that was a front, she was clearly on the verge of panic,
"When...?"

"Janey," I put my hands on her shoulders. "Please ... don't...do ... this ...
"

She extricated herself from my lap and backed a few steps away from me. I
could see that her brain was dangerously close to red-lining. Her face was
blank. She was in a thousand-yard stare. And quietly, and much more to herself
than to me: "You're blind. You are blind. And it's my fault. When am I ever
going to stop hurting you?"

I stood up and made to move towards her, but she took a step back.

"A.J., stay away from me." And she turned and headed for the stairs.

"Janey." She kept moving. And, perhaps for the first time in our entire
relationship, I raised my voice to her.

"Janine!" I barked. "God dammit. I am your husband. Don't you walk away from
me. Get back here ... right now!" She stopped and turned to me. And, I
actually took a step towards her. I pointed at the couch. "Sit down."

She looked at me, completely nonplussed. We'd lived our entire adult lives in
the New Paradigm. But we'd been raised in the Old Paradigm. So, for about ten
seconds, her current biology wrestled with her old sensibilities. Then, being
Janey, she mastered herself, and with her eyes on the floor, she meekly walked
back across the room, and sat down on the spot where I had pointed.

I sat down next to her and took her hands (which had migrated up to in front
of her mouth) in mine. I leaned in. "Janey, if you think, there is any chance
of me letting you out of my sight until we have talked all the way through
this, you have lost your mind. You will literally have to kill me to keep me
away from you right now." I paused, as her eyes began to fill-up. "And, by the
way, thank you for not killing me for ordering you around like that."

And, looking down at the floor, she smiled, and sobbed, and giggled, and shook
her head, and sobbed again ... and then she was laughing and crying at the
same time. She took my face in her hands and stared at me for a long time as
tears rolled down her cheeks. "A.J., what are we going to do?"

"This world ... this life ... it is so unfair to you. And I try to protect
you. I really do." And her face began to crumble, but she got a hold of
herself. "But I can't seem to get it right. And the fact that I have to make
you be naked in the house, and the fact that you need to be protected, just
because you go out there and are succeeding in a world that completely
marginalizes you, and ... " and here she sobbed again, and whispered to
herself " ... and the fact that you were only half kidding when you just
thanked me for not killing you. And looking me directly in the eyes, "A.J.,
baby, please tell me that you're not scared of me. I would never ... "

All evidence to the contrary. She let her thought trail off, the irony just
hanging in the air.

With my face still in her hands, though, she kissed me on the forehead. Then
she kissed me on my left eye and spoke with her lips still against my face.
"A.J., I'm so sorry. I have so many regrets over the past few years ... "

I pulled back from her lips and interrupted her with real exasperation. I
actually brought up my finger and pointed it in her face. "Janey. Don't you
ever ... " I stopped. My heart went all icy. We both looked at my finger. To
myself: "God damn, A.J. Just keep poking the beehive." I quickly took it down.

She giggled, retrieved my hand and brought my finger to her lips.

"I am not scared of you, per se. We've always talked about the fundamental of
our love. That is all that matters. Your strength is an awesome force ... and
... sometimes ... the Testostrogen is just ... . it's just that I never know
when it's going to kick in." I hung my head. "I'm sorry, Janey. Look, it's not
what we thought it would be when we were little ... but we're doing the best
we can. Completely together. Given the circumstances, I think we're doing
pretty damn good. So please don't talk about regrets. I don't have any ... as
long as I have you."

She gave me a teary smile.

I gentled her around, so that she was back on my lap, but facing away from me.
I brought my hands up and cupped her breasts. She sighed deeply and settled
back in to me. I started squeezing and massaging in earnest; I know she could
feel that I was rock hard against her bottom.

After a minute or two. "A.J.?"

"Mmm?"

"Gorgeous, there's one other thing." Her hands had come up in front of her,
and she had taken hold of my wrists, and pulled my hands gently away from her
boobs.

I was clearly listening.

"You've kind of been lying to me for the last eight weeks ... and ... well ...
despite everything else, you can't expect me to let that just go."

I froze.

"I mean I am your wife. You belong to me. If I let you get away with something
like this, who knows what might be next? I think, baby, you're going to have
to be punished."

I was speechless.

And then she shifted her hips, leaned back in to me, and nibbled on my
earlobe. Anyone watching would have seen nothing of note. But a lifetime of
sharing a soul makes you understand. And I knew in that instant: Janey was
playing.

She rose up off of me and turned to face me. Reaching down, she pulled her
dress over her head, and there she was ... red lacy bra and matching panties
... all boobs and hair and hips and legs ... and boobs. My fantasy. My wife.

She crooked her finger at me.

I stayed where I was. "Now, Janey ... "

She put her hand on her sensuously flaring hip. "A.J., you're already in
enough trouble. Don't make me come over there."

I stood and took a few steps towards her. "Janey, please, I can explain." And
I bolted for the stairs. She was, of course, entirely too quick, and caught me
around my hips as I went by her. I have no idea how, because it happened so
fast, and yet so gently ... I was flat on my back on the living room rug.

She was kneeling beside me, with my penis in her right hand. She stroked until
I was ready to explode. Then she stopped and rose to her feet. She loomed over
me for a few seconds, and then started towards the stairs.

"Janey?"

"I'll be right back. Don't move." She snickered. "As if you could." (She'd
paralyzed me.) "And you better be just as erect as you are now when I get
back."

When she returned, she had one of the prototype gloves. I was trussed into it
in about two seconds. Again, standing over me, she slipped her panties over
her hips. They dropped to the floor. "I'm going to sit on your face now. You
have five minutes to make me cum. For every minute more than five it takes
you, that is how many days you spend in the glove." And she began to lower
herself.

"Days? Janey. Days? That's not fair. Honey, plea ... " And she landed. And she
was already sopping. I got her off in four.

She had rolled on to the floor next to me. It took like ten minutes, after all
of the gasping, moaning, screaming, and praying, for her breathing to return
to normal. She got up and went into the kitchen where she got a wash-cloth and
wiped my face clean. Then she laid down on the floor, perpendicular to me, and
settled her big boobs on to my chest, which put her face a good eight inches
above mine.

She looked deeply into my blind eye. "A.J., how is it possible that I didn't
notice this?"

"I was just really careful. I tried to keep you on my right."

"Why didn't you say anything? Maybe if we'd done something right away ... "
And she paused, and then added, "And if you say, because you didn't want my
honeymoon to be spoiled, I promise you that my head will explode."

I hung my head (as best I could paralyzed and, on my back,). "At the time,
you'd said that you'd fixed everything that could be fixed, and that there
might be some residual healing. I figured it would come back on its own. And,
I'm sorry, but I wanted you to have your dream honeymoon, and you'd already
been through enough. And, anyway, the doctors have been pretty clear about the
fact that it was a done deal the moment that woman hit me. Nothing that we
might have done differently, no matter how quickly we did it, would have saved
my sight."

"Is this why you've been sort of suggesting recently that I drive when we're
out together?"

I averted my eyes. "I'm still figuring this out."

"But you drive yourself?"

"Yeah, well, when I drive myself, I'm not putting you at risk."

That just hung out there for a minute or two.

Then, Janey popped up and knelt next to me. She touched my cheek to unparalyze
me and quickly rose to her feet. Then she extended her hand and helped me to
my feet.

I stood up and she pulled me into a tight hug, my arms over top of hers.

"A.J.?"

"Mmm?"

"You may be scared of me, but I want you to know ... You make me feel safe.
You make me feel safe in the way that when I was little, I always imagined you
would. All this New Paradigm shit aside, you are a man who acts like a man
should act." And then after a short pause. "Thank you."

I bent to her ear. "You're welcome." And then after a short pause. "And ...
just so you know ... " I pulled back and smiled, "I'm only a little scared of
you."

We both sighed. A few beats went by.

"You know before when we were playing about you being punished?"

"Yeah."

She reached down and clicked me free. "You're unpunished." And I was over her
shoulder, and we were up the stairs so fast that I could not really be certain
how we got there. And we again had a lot of sex ... the details of which
you'll just have to imagine.

Turns out you don't really need both eyes to be an economist, to be a college
economics professor, or to write books and articles. By the time we were
twenty-five, I'd published two journal articles, I had my doctorate, and Janey
had graduated from medical school. By twenty-six, we were gigantically rich
due to having sold the Glove. By twenty-seven, my thesis had been turned into
a text book that was required reading in just about every advanced econ
program in the world. At twenty-eight, we were stupidly rich due to having
sold the Bra, which used Testostrogen to help women hold their breasts, as big
as they may be, in the exact way they wanted them. At twenty-nine, Janey
finished her residency, and opened her own practice.

So, our twenties went by, full of love, togetherness, and by the grace of the
universe, a reasonable amount of success in our careers, and our bank account
(technically Janey's bank account, but she was nice enough to share). And we'd
met Harper, and she'd become part of our family.

Harper is, literally, one in a million. Because, literally only one woman out
of a million is a true Superbig, a special sub-genre of enhanced woman.

By way of explanation: Janey has super big breasts. And, while her breasts are
absolutely massive, there are certainly women in the world who are even bigger
than Janey, although they are few and far between.

Even more rare, however, are true Superbigs. Women who are gigantically
breasted, so big that they are unmeasurable in terms of standard bra-sizing.
Harper's boobs are so big that, when standing, she can tuck me up under them,
and hold me perpendicular to her torso. When she does this her breasts cover
me sideways from my chin to my penis, and all the way across the entire width
of my body, such that even my closer-to-the-floor arm is held trapped against
her torso. And she can hold me there just by virtue of the weight of them. In
fact, she can hold Janey, and Janey outweighs me by about a hundred pounds.

Superbigs, due to the actual mammary to fat ratio in their breasts, are
significantly stronger than regular enhanced women, though slower of movement.
In fact, Superbigs can't move much faster than a man. Their enhancements are
entirely similar to that of regularly enhanced women.

It was, of course, Harper's size that drew Janey to her in the first place.
Janey had, simply, never, ever, in her entire life, met a woman bigger than
she was. When she met the younger woman at that party we had hosted, she was
intrigued simply by Harper's size. We didn't know that Harper was a Superbig
until later that same night, after everyone had left, and Janey and Harper
(and I) stayed up late into the next morning bonding.

At the time, Janey and I had just turned twenty-six years old. We were still
about three months away from competing the deal on the Glove, but, at that
point, it was a done deal. I had been teaching for a year. Janey had just
started her residency. Harper was twenty-two years old, having just started
her master's studies.

At the party, Janey kind of had her hands full because in addition to her
hostess duties, she needed to be constantly vigilant about my whereabouts. To
be blunt, economics professors and graduate students, or not, there were
twenty-three people in our house, and including Janey, twenty-two of them were
women (Janey plus nine professors and twelve students). And there was one man.
The potential for it growing into something that Janey couldn't handle by
herself was a clear undercurrent.

About an hour in, I, with Janey always within arm's length, as the party's
host, was finally getting around to the youngest, newest students, and there
was Harper.

One inch taller than Janey, at five foot eight, and a little on the stocky
side, but by no means fat, Harper is kind of plain-faced, with jet black hair,
and lovely caramel colored skin. Her voice is a mellow alto, and her smile is
shy and sweet. And, unlike every other woman at the party, who, even though it
was I who was actually doing the introducing of myself and Janey, immediately
ignored me and spoke directly to Janey, Harper's first words were "Dr. Turner!
I have read everything you've ever written, and I can't wait to speak to you,
specifically about some of your theories on third world distribution systems."
And turning to Janey: "And, Dr. Turner, it is a pleasure to meet you." And
leaning in to Janey, and casting her eyes in my direction, "If you need a
break, I'll keep an eye on him, and I swear to you, he will be in exactly the
same condition he is in now, when you come back for him."

Janey, clearly smitten on the spot, smiled ruefully, and said, "Thank you so
much, that is so sweet." And after a pause, she stuck out her chest, and with
a big, goofy smile, "And now, for the first time in my life, I finally get to
say it."

Harper smiled at me, and then looked deeply into Janey's eyes. The two of them
were acting serious, but underneath it there was the strong feeling of an
inside joke.

"Go'head, I'm here for you." And Harper stuck out her chest, so far that their
tits actually touched.

"Damn, woman, your tits are ... huge!"

"Well, thank you so much. You know I hadn't ever noticed."

And they cracked up, and by the time they were finished laughing they were
hugging. And they've been inseparable ever since.

That night when the party ended, Harper stayed. The three of us opened a
bottle of wine and sat in our den. It was then and there that Harper revealed
that she was not just super big, but, in fact, a Superbig. Janey was
absolutely fascinated and peppered her new friend with question after
question; each of which Harper answered good-naturedly, and to the best of her
ability.

Harper, that night, also came right out with the fact that she is kind of a
hard-core lesbian, and by hard-core, she meant that she has utterly no
interest in having sex with men. Interestingly, she also has no interest in
having sex with Janey. Over time, by her dating practices, Harper has made it
clear that Janey is absolutely not her type. Harper is a black girl, who likes
black girls; particularly black girls with flat chests (nothing bigger than an
e-cup) and big butts. And that is not Janey. And Janey, anyway, is straight as
an arrow, and ... well ... I'm kind of all Janey can handle ... if I do say so
myself (and so does she). That said, there have been times when, just for
giggles, they've connected. Janey's comment: "Hey, I'm not Mexican, but that
doesn't mean I don't, occasionally, eat a taco."

One of those times happened about a year into our friendship. Janey had been
obsessing over Harper's strength since that first night. She constantly
bothered Harper about who would win in a fight between them. She knew Harper
was stronger, but she thought that her quickness, and training would make up
for it. Harper always smiled shyly and would say something like: "Come at me,
and we'll see about your training." And one night, Janey did.

After making all that money, Janey and I had bought rather a large home, with
some pretty large rooms. One of the rooms was a basement area, approximately
sixty feet by thirty feet, that, at the time of this particular story, we had
just, and I mean just, finished. So "just," in fact that it was entirely empty
except for the carpeting.

It was a Friday night, and the three of us were down there talking about what
Janey and I might do with the space. We had just come out of the hot tub, and
the girls were conveniently in swim suits. (I was, of course, naked.) Janey,
in a floral print bikini, had wandered about fifteen feet off to the right
from where Harper and I were standing. Harper, ironically, was in a blue one
piece. I was describing where I wanted to put a seating area when Janey
launched herself at Harper.

And when I say launched, I'm not kidding. She came across the fifteen feet in
less time than it takes to blink an eye, and she hit Harper chest high, like a
truck. I hadn't seen her coming at all. Harper had turned only a millisecond
before Janey hit her, and the two of them skittered across the floor, as Janey
pressed her advantage, and Harper tried desperately to get her feet under her.

Janey pushed her a good twelve feet, before Harper got them stopped. Janey had
her hands on Harper's shoulders and was trying to push the slightly taller
woman down to her knees. Harper, having brought the two of them to a full
stop, looked across at Janey, soberly. Janey paused for a second, and then
they smiled at each other, and Harper smiled, and said, "Give us a kiss."
Janey leaned in and they brushed lips. Then Harper smiled again, and said, in
the friendliest of ways, "Alright, Wrestler Barbie, take your best shot."
Janey shrugged, perhaps a bit nervously, and redoubled her efforts to force
Harper to the floor.

Harper let her push for a minute. Keep in mind that if Janey had been pushing
down on a grizzly bear, she would have already crushed its shoulders, driven
it to its knees, and probably broken its back for good measure. And Harper
gave not an inch.

Then, maintaining eye contact the whole time, Harper reached up and took
Janey's wrists in her hands. Harper's right hand on Janey's left wrist, and
her left hand on Janey's right wrist. And though Janey resisted as hard as she
could, Harper peeled Janey's hands off of her shoulders, and began bending
them back towards Janey's face.

Janey's face was a mixture of determination, effort, and ... awe. She was
pushing hard enough to push an ocean liner out of dry dock, and she was
absolutely helpless to stop the journey of her hands back towards her face.
Harper pushed until Janey's hands were even with Janey's ears.

And then, maintaining her same grip on Janey's wrists, Harper shifted slightly
the angle of her force, and Janey started sinking to her knees. Again,
unwavering eye contact, and Janey's look of awe, and, perhaps, fear. Despite
Janey putting up superhuman resistance, Harper forced Janey, steadily, all the
way to her knees.

Once Janey was down on her knees, Harper shifted Janey's left wrist, so that
Harper now had both of Janey's wrists in Harper's left hand. Stepping to the
side, Harper put her right hand on Janey's neck, and pushed Janey forward
until Janey's forehead was touching the floor. Then Harper passed Janey's
hands down her torso, and through Janey's legs. She joggled Janey around a
bit, and got Janey's ankles crossed, and pinned Janey's wrists between them.
With Janey's legs gathered under her, and her arms trapped under her, her tits
mashed on the ground, and her butt in the air, Janey looked like a sleeping
baby, or a turkey ready for the oven. Harper had crushed my wife into a tight,
tiny ball.

Harper simply sat down on top of Janey's lower back right where Janey's back
became her butt., which brought all of Harper's weight (easily four hundred
pounds) over top of Janey's hips, and down on top of Janey's wrists and
ankles. Janey was hog tied and helpless. Harper crossed her legs and smiled
sweetly at me.

"So, Wrestler Barbie. Have we learned anything?"

Janey just whimpered a bit.

Harper jounced up and down a few times, and Janey whimpered more than a bit.

"Okay, okay, Harper, I give up. I'm sorry. Can I please get up now? Please?"

"But you haven't answered my question. What have you learned?"

"That you are really, really strong. And that I should not mess with you."

"And?"

"And that I'm really glad you're on my side."

Harper giggled. And Janey did too.

And despite her predicament, Janey had not lost her sense of humor. "Damn,
Harper, you could have at least acted like it took a little effort."

Harper crooked her finger at me. I walked over, and she took ahold of my
penis. I gave her a look, and she shrugged. "Well, now I guess, all that's
left is the humiliation. You know, if I were a straight woman, I'd make you
watch while I took your husband.

"He's all yours," Janey interrupted, "If you'll just let me up."

We all laughed.

"Well I am going to take some nutrition, but that's not going to humiliate
anybody." Since that first night, Harper, at Janey's insistence, sucked me off
about once per month ... usually in Janey's presence. Due to Harper's sexual
orientation, semen, for her, was hard to come by (no pun intended). Janey,
being Janey, was very concerned that Harper have proper access to good, fresh
semen, so, very early in their friendship, I had been offered up. A decidedly
New Paradigm way of thinking, but, hey, what's the occasional blow job between
friends. The whole thing was very casual, and just as often as not, while
Harper was laboring over my southern hemisphere, Janey would be at work up
north, burying my face under her boobs, or even sitting on my face.

And with that, Harper scooped me up, across the top of her gigantic, gigantic
tits, and took me into her mouth. Nutrition with Janey is not that sexual ...
with Harper, it is downright clinical. But I just had watched my dominant,
superhuman wife humbled by a shy, quiet, younger woman with much, much bigger
boobs. I came in about forty-five seconds.

***** Continued in our Amy's Conquest (www.amysconquest.com) Exclusive,

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