GG's, Like in Maggie Ch. 01

"Oh, well, my pleasure, Maggie," Kathleen said professionally. "You can get dressed now." The topless woman in front of her stood up and grabbed her dark green tank top, pulling it back on, making her massive breasts jiggle lusciously.

"I noticed you were married," Maggie asked with her top up around her neck, breasts still exposed.

"Excuse me?" Kathleen asked, glancing up from her chart.

"You're married," Maggie repeated slyly. "Doc, I felt your wedding ring against my tits!" She stated with a proud smile.

"Oh, uh... yeah, I'm married," Kathleen replied, shaking her head.

"Must be weird for him, being married to a woman who gives other women giant fake tits!" Maggie stated, yanking her tight top down over her massive breasts, covering them back up. "Does he ever come by, unannounced, just to check out the merchandise?" she teased, grinning, raising her eyebrows.

"No, not really..." Kathleen stated, looking back at her chart. "His work keeps him pretty busy. Plus, he's uh... he's not really like that."

As if on cue, a nurse cracked the door open slightly.

"Doctor Schaeffer, your husband's in the lobby," the nurse stated before exiting. Kathleen looked up at a smirking Maggie.

"My car is in the repair, he's picking me up," Kathleen said, defending against Maggie's insinuation with a small smile.

"I'm sure!" Maggie replied, grabbing her purse.

"So, I'll make another appointment for two weeks from today, just another check. Everything looks good, but some stuff might still come up, so I want to keep an eye on things before you're free of me for good." Kathleen stated.

"I like you, Doc," Maggie said. "And trust me, I don't think my bank account will ever be free of you," she stated, her honesty making Kathleen smile. "But it was totally worth it! I would give my life savings for a set of jugs like these!" She stated excitedly, cupping her new tits and squeezing them. "I pretty much did, really," she added.

"Happy to help," Kathleen replied, before her patient stepped out of the office with a nod, leaving Kathleen alone to finish up her paperwork.

Maggie sauntered towards the lobby with a confident stride. She had already picked up just the right way to walk to really make her big jugs bounce, and she did so with vigor, picking up her little appointment card at the desk, before striding towards the exit, her new, fabulously massive fake tits shaking with every step.

She was a natural.

Maggie strutted with pride, finally feeling like she had the body she was truly meant to have. What she told Kathleen was the truth. She truly did always feel like she was always meant to have big breasts. And not just big, but, really enormous breasts. She had spent most of her teenage years waiting for the day when her breasts would really sprout and expand into the big round tits she always craved having. Sadly, that day had never come.

Luckily for her, she was blessed in other ways. For one, she was extremely attractive. Her long, slightly curly black hair was lustrous and sexy. Her face was gorgeous, and her large expressive eyes, thick plump lips, and that teasing, sexy smirk of hers could make any man stammer and stutter. Her beauty wasn't pure and innocent and sweet either. Her type of beauty was dark and lustful and aggressively sexy.

She always kept herself nice and fit, and that really benefitted her, leaving her with long, smooth legs and a round, jutting, upturned ass that would always make a guy stop and stare. So, combining her fit, firm, smooth, tanned body, her fantastic ass, and her incredible good looks made the young British woman a sexy little minx, even despite her relatively flat chest.

She was never hurting for attention either. Maggie was a shameless flirt, and to be frank, a complete and total slut. Needless to say, she was getting laid constantly. But, despite all this, she was never truly content with her body. Even though the many, MANY men she hooked up with were easily able to look past her flat chest, she couldn't get over it. She would never be truly satisfied until she fixed nature's mistake. She would never be the woman she was truly meant to be until she was sporting an absolutely mammoth rack. She was sexy as hell. A 10 in most people's book. But the thing that would truly put her over the top and cap off her near-perfect body was a pair of huge, soft, mouth-watering breasts.

Maggie was going to get them, she swore to herself. Come hell or high water, she was gonna get the huge tits a woman like her deserved.

Obviously, the solution was to get implants, but she didn't want a pair of cheap looking bolt-ons. She wanted the good stuff. She wanted tits that, despite their immense size, looked as close to natural as possible. This was how she came across Dr. Schaeffer's work. She saw people gushing online about her good work, to the point where people could name the girls who had premium 'Schaeffer Tits', so she just had to check it out. Once she saw some of the massive, round, perfect sets of breasts Dr. Schaeffer could craft, Maggie's mind was immediately made up. Sure, it was way out of price range, and Dr. Schaeffer's clinic was an ocean away from Maggie's home turf, but she had made up her mind and there was no talking her out of it.

Maggie was going to get a massive set of jugs, and Dr. Schaeffer was going to give them to her.

Maggie wasn't a rich woman, nor was she especially hard working or book-smart. Additionally, she had no plans for her future beyond partying and chasing handsome men. What she could count on, though, was her good looks, so she could make a decent career modelling. Once she got in front of the camera, it just felt right. She felt like a star when getting photographed, and for the first time she felt a drive for something more. She felt ambition. She had never felt professional drive before, but as soon as she began modeling she couldn't get enough. She wanted to do it well, and be the best, hottest, and most popular model ever. She wasn't naïve though, and she knew that her type of modeling wasn't the type that would grace classy publications. Sex was dripping from her pores, and that couldn't be contained. There was nothing innocent about her.

She modeled for small men's publications, mainly, wearing little bikinis and other skimpy outfits that showed lots of skin. But this line of work only further compounded her body issues, as it was the girls with bursting bra-sizes that got paid the most and got the most exposure. Those were the ones who got popular. Those big-titted models were the ones that got paired off with the rich, handsome boyfriends who put rings on their fingers, cash in their bank accounts, and adorable babies in their bellies. Again, Maggie was being penalized by life for her inferior chest.

This only caused an anger to boil inside her, an anger which fueled her ambition. She became shockingly motivated, spurred into action by this injustice. She got a lot of work, and her smoldering eyes and lustful sneer made her jump off the page, letting the viewer conjure thoughts of this sexy model hate-fucking them into oblivion. She was able to make a decent living, and as soon as she could, she was ready to take the plunge. She took her earnings from modeling and combined it with her life savings, adding in the money from her inheritance from her grandmother. (The inheritance was meant to fund her College education, but she knew that wasn't ever gonna happen.) And even though she probably didn't have enough money to really afford it still, Maggie hopped a plane across the pond to sunny Florida, ready to make her dreams come true.

These big tits were going to be an investment to a new life. A better life. A bright future, one befitting a woman like her. The life she deserved.

And it had already paid off. Even though her big fake tits were still very new, she had put them to good use, attracting plenty of male attention. She had even gotten a few business cards of a few men from modeling agencies. Some of them seemed pretty skeevy, but some seemed legit, so those massive jugs were already getting the job done. Life was becoming pretty good for the 25-year-old, and she was ready to saunter outside confidently into the humid afternoon air, ready to strut her stuff.

And then she stopped in her tracks.

It required something special to stun a woman like Maggie, but what she was seeing was certainly stunning. And what she was staring at was a man. He was just sitting there, so nonchalant, as if he wasn't the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. Maggie tended to attract a certain type of guy, and this guy was almost the opposite of that. Those other guys were, frankly, douchebags. And yes, they were hot, very hot, but in a more deliberate way, wearing expensive clothes, every hair in place, smelling like the most expensive cologne they could find at their local drug store. Sure, they had nice cars, and fancy jobs, but in the end those guys were always just so hollow and self-centered.

Yeah, the sex was fine, but those guys never could truly make her world shake in the way she craved. They fucked her just to fuck her. They fucked her for their own selfish needs, to put a notch on their bedpost. They didn't fuck her brains out because they loved her. Or because they wanted to worship her hot body forever and ever. They didn't fuck her with the maddening, all-consuming lust her hot body had inspired in them. They didn't fuck her like she was the hottest creature they had ever laid eyes on, and wanted to reward her supreme hotness by making her scream every goddam night. Those other guys weren't this type of man.

But the guy sitting in front of her... he had that potential.

He looked so relaxed and effortless. He was looking down at some sort of sketchpad on his lap, tapping at it with a pencil, his wedding ring glinting in the light as he did so. He had closely shorn, light brown hair, and a few days' scruff which added a bit of ruggedness to his boyish good looks. He wore a simple pair of jeans, slightly faded, as if these were his favorite pair that he wore all the time, plus a pair of work boots. He wore a thin button-up shirt, a nice looking, simple top that looked really good on him. To Maggie, he just looked, you know... really good. Really, really good.

Maggie was attracted to him immediately.

Even though he looked so handsome and boyish, there was something more rugged about him that Maggie couldn't quite place. He had the relaxed, easy-going demeanor and tall, fit frame of a surfer who had just wandered in off the beach. But his jeans and boots and his big hands made her think that maybe he worked in, like, a workshop or something. Maggie's eyes were drawn to his hands, looking manly and rough, as if he did lots of work and knew exactly what to do with them.

Maggie wanted to feel them squeezing her big tits.

As it often did for her, Maggie's mind went straight towards hot sex. She was already imagining her and this handsome stranger in bed together, naked, her riding this hot guy's no-doubt huge cock as he gripped her big, luscious tits roughly, holding on for dear life as he drove up into her, their bodies dripping with sweat. These heated thoughts immediately caused her nipples to stiffen.

Sure, she was hot enough and slutty enough to where that little ring on his finger didn't really bother her. Mere contrivances shouldn't get in the way of true love, and what she and he had was something special. Sure, Maggie hadn't actually yet spoken to the man, but there was something inside her drawing her forward. Drawing her towards him. Was it just lust? Could it be love? She hadn't been this physically attracted to someone in some time, so she just had to make a move. They were strangers now, but she intended to change that. She approached the seated man, her heels clicking on the hard floor

"I hope you're not getting any work done," Maggie stated to him. "Because you look pretty perfect to me..."

The seated man was pulled from his thoughts by Maggie's accented interjection. He looked up from his sketchpad at the woman standing in front of him. He was perfectly polite, not letting his eyes drift to her impressive chest, meeting her gaze with his. Maggie smiled internally. He was a good man. A good, loyal husband.

She couldn't wait to shove her tits in his face.

"I'm sorry?" he replied with a warm, slightly confused smile. He didn't know what he was dealing with. He'd probably never met a girl like Maggie before.

"I said, I hope you're not getting any work done," Maggie repeated with a brilliant smile, jutting out her chest, daring him to stare. He didn't bite. Not yet, anyway.

"Oh! No, nothing like that!" he said with a laugh. "I'm just waiting for someone."

"I think you found someone," the British woman teased.

"Oh, ha..." he stammered, finally catching on that he was being flirted with. "It's not like that. I'm, uh, waiting for my wife." he said, holding up his hand, showing off his wedding ring.

"Oh, did she get her tits done, too?" Maggie joked, and as good a man as he was, at this comment, he couldn't help but give a cursory glance at her massive, round jugs. It was impossible not to. She was practically inviting him to stare. Even being a happily married man, he couldn't help but marvel at their perfect size and shape. They were freaking enormous! And so perky, standing out from her chest proudly, straining the constraints of tight green tank top. He looked away, hoping to have not been noticed, but the sly grin of the woman standing in front of him told him his gaze hadn't been so secret.

"Uh, no, uh, sorry..." the man said, shaking his head. "My wife's the one that, uh, did the work..." he said, nodding at her chest without looking.

"Oh!" Maggie stated, eyes widening. "You're married to the doc!"

"Yeah, I'm married to Kathleen," the man said. "I'm Andrew, by the way," he said, standing up and holding out his hand, not knowing what else to do. She slid her warm, soft hand into his.

"I'm Maggie," she replied, gripping his hand softly, feeling a tingle at this small, physical contact with the handsome man. "And I must say, your wife is a miracle worker!" she said, beaming, daring him to look down again. There was so much cleavage for him to see if he just wanted to take a peek.

"She's a very talented woman," Andrew said, trying to keep things above board.

"So... what are you working on?" Maggie said, glancing downward.

"Excuse me?" Andrew asked, confused.

"Your sketchpad..." she said, glancing at the pad of paper in his hands. "I hope you're not drawing pictures of all the pretty girls traipsing through here."

"Oh, no, no!" Andrew said, blushing. "It's not like that! I'm, uh, sketching ideas. Or, at least, trying to. I have a workshop. I design one of a kind furniture, cabinets, stuff like that. It's, uh, boring to you, probably, but I kinda like it."

"I was trying to figure out what you were," Maggie began. "I was guessing either a surfer or, like, a construction worker."

"Well, I do a bunch of things. I do woodwork and design. I write. I do photography," Andrew stated, babbling slightly, which was unusual for him, but this big-breasted woman was making him nervous for reasons he couldn't place.

"Oh! That's perfect! I'm a model! Maybe I can hire you to take some pictures!" Maggie stated, sensing an in.

"No, uh, I don't take those kind of pictures," Andrew said. "I do... things like landscapes, nature shots, like those really douchey photos people put on their Facebook profiles," he joked, making her giggle.

"Shame," Maggie replied. "Cause I got two new assets I REALLY want to show off! Haha!" An uncomfortable silence fell between the two, with Andrew not really knowing what to say in response to that. She stretched her neck and looked away, out the window, naturally jutting her chest out. Before he could even think about it, knowing she wasn't looking, he took the opportunity to openly stare. He physically couldn't stop himself. Maggie's breasts were just huge. Her tight top was straining to contain her perfectly round, massive boobs. Her nipples were evident beneath the cloth, achingly hard. As she shifted her weight as she stretched, her huge tits jiggled. Andrew's eyes watched the smooth skin ripple as his eyes moved towards her proudly exposed cleavage. His eyes fell into the smooth tanned crevasse of her deep cleavage. He couldn't but stare, blatantly, nakedly, until he shook himself from his reverie, pulling his eyes from the woman's enhanced chest, looking out the window before she could notice.

This was why Andrew rarely visited his wife's office. He was a good man and a loyal husband. But... he was still a man, and he knew better than to put himself in situations like this. Even though he thought he was kind of above falling victim to this type of thing, he didn't need the temptation. That's why he had had his head down and his sketchpad out, seeking distraction from the women he could see sauntering around here. Women like Maggie.

Nervous, eager to just end the conversation, he willed for her to just leave, or for his wife to appear and give him an excuse to leave. Thankfully, the door to the office opened and his wife appeared, smiling at him as she approached.

"Oh," Kathleen said, a little confused as she approached Andrew and Maggie. "I see you two have met," she said, wondering why they were even talking. Andrew sensed this, and give her an appreciative stare as she interrupted.

"You're a real lucky girl, Doc," Maggie stated, stepping back to allow Kathleen to stand between them. "I was about to ask your husband out till I found out he was married to you. He's definitely a catch!" She added, grinning at the doctor.

"I guess I got lucky with this one," Kathleen said, smiling at her husband. He gave his wife a thankful nod. A moment of awkward silence fell between them.

"Well, I won't keep you two lovebirds," Maggie said, sensing her fun with Andrew was over now that the doc had entered the fray. She smiled at the happy couple before glancing back at Kathleen. "Thanks again for the tits, doc!" she said with a laugh, turning and sauntering away, shaking her round, jean-clad ass with every step. As soon as she was out of earshot, Kathleen gave her husband a very wifely look.

"I swear to God she's the one that started talking to me," Andrew said nervously. Kath maintained her judging gaze for a few seconds before her lips turned up slightly.

"I know, hon," Kathleen said warmly. "Trust me, there's no mystery about what type of girl she is," she stated as she looked out the window, walking across the parking lot was her patient, her big, braless tits bouncing with every step. "I did give her really good tits, though."

"I actually hadn't noticed," Andrew said, before his wife rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs.

Maggie headed towards her crappy car, about to head out. It was definitely a contrast, seeing this girl with a rundown car and massive, premium fake tits. It was clear where her priorities lied. As she sat down in the driver's seat and tossed her purse into the passenger seat, she exhaled and wiped her brow, eager to cool down. Trying to forget about the perfect hunk of man she had just met.

It was true that Maggie was aiming to ask out the doctor's husband before finding out who he was married to, but her intentions weren't so pure as a mere date. When she said she was about to ask Andrew out, what she actually meant was that she was about to invite Andrew back to her place to fucking wreck her vagina.

It's probably for the best that things didn't get that far.

But she was that fucking hot for him. She hadn't been this ravenously turned on in a long time. Andrew was hot. He was fit. He was talented. He seemed smart and clever. And God, was he hot!