GG's, Like in Maggie Ch. 01

If only she could just be around him again, she knew his mind would change. It wouldn't take long before he loved her as much as she loved him. She just knew it. They just needed time together. If Maggie was able to just be in his presence and parade her hot body around him for his lustful gaze, he would just have to admit he loved her. He would HAVE to.

She needed a good excuse to run into him, and she needed it fast. She exercised her mind, trying to figure out what to do. But admittedly, thinking too far ahead like this was never her strong suit. She just needed to be in his presence again, and she would figure out the rest later. She rubbed her forehead, searching for ideas. She was eager to get out of this shitty place and get to a place more worthy of her status. Plus, she was running out of cash, and was finding modeling gigs surprisingly difficult to come by. She just needed to get herself out there, to get her luscious body showcased to the world. She needed someone talented. Someone who appreciated her hot body. Someone who could help her show it off in the way it deserved. Someone who, deep down, was willing to worship her hot body, via a camera.

A devious idea entered her mind.

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

As Andrew had mentioned to that woman, Maggie, photography was one of his big hobbies. In general, he was a very creative and artistic guy, and he had many outlets for these urges. The stuff he built in his shop scratched his biggest itch, but one of the other major ones for him was photography.

He had always visualized moments that would make good pictures, and eventually he made these urges a reality. He was one of those guys that had purchased an expensive camera and knew all sorts of things about lenses and exposures and all other sorts of photography facts that made people's eyes glaze over when he tried to explain them. It might sound a bit dull and dense, but he enjoyed having so many variables to choose from.

Whenever he had exhausted his creative juices in the shop, he would switch it up, putting his focus into shooting, scratching his creative urges in a different way, keeping his mind fresh and interested in what he was doing.

He was very, very good at photography. Kathleen would often say that he had an eye for it. They had prints of his photos on their walls at home. This fact kind of embarrassed the normally humble married man, but Kathleen's effusive pride filled him with a warmth that alleviated his hesitance. He had a few photos hanging in his shop as well, but that was more to help the business than ego. Kathleen had also commissioned him for a few photos to put up on the walls in her office. Like with his woodworking, word of his good work got out there, so he was able to make a few bucks taking pictures. He didn't do things like weddings or anything like that, more focusing on artistic shots or pictures of specific items or spots that people wanted nice, classy photos of. He couldn't make a living taking pictures, but it was a fun bit of business on the side.

Lately, he had started to burn himself out in the shop, so he sought out his camera, eager to stay busy. But, unfortunately for him, he had hit a bit of a creative block lately. Nothing was really grabbing his interest, nothing worthy of his efforts. Like many artists, he went through phases. For a while, he was focused on nature shots, seeing beauty in all the chaos of the world. Lately, he had been more interested in shots of the human world, of the hard straight lines of buildings and roads. He could find beauty in all things, and he had found beauty even in the synthetic and cold precision of human design. And sometimes, he could blend his old muses with the new, as he did with pictures of nice, leafy, bendy trees integrated into the hard design of the human world. He always found this contrast, between nature and the manmade, of the synthetic and the natural, to be extra special. Overall, he always loved taking pictures. It was one of his great loves.

But even this had started to bore him.

He wondered if he was in between phases, so to speak, moving from one photographic muse to another. He had tried to head back to the shop in hopes of stirring something up, but he came up blank there as well. He had hit a creative wall in a way that he never had before. That's why he had brought a sketchbook to his wife's office, in case inspiration struck. For a few days after that, he had simply driven around and gone hiking in new spots, desperate for anything that would tickle his fancy.

But alas, he struck out.

He returned to his shop near the end of the day to take care of some dull business stuff. It wasn't exciting, but it was stuff that had to be done. He finished it quickly, and soon after began gathering his stuff to leave. And it was as he walked out of the shop and onto the sidewalk when inspiration literally struck him.

He had been lost in thought when he stepped out the front door, only to run into something soft. With a bounce, him and whatever he had run into collided, before each stepped back, trying to ascertain what happened. Andrew looked up, and he was stunned by what he saw.

It was that woman. The woman from his wife's office. Maggie. The one with the big, uh... personality.

"Oh, uh, hi," he said, confused. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," Maggie stated, savoring that momentary physical contact with the object of her lust. Andrew couldn't help but look her over. She was dressed simply, wearing flip-flops, short, denim booty shorts, and a tight gray tank top. Her long legs were exposed, as was her fit belly, and the smooth upper slopes of her new assets were being showcased proudly, her tight, clingy top highlighting their round shape and deep cleavage.

"Um... what are you doing here?" Andrew asked, skeptical that this was a coincidence.

"Oh, I was just taking a walk, honest, and..." she trailed off as his expression gave away his obvious disbelief. "Okay, I'm not gonna lie... this maybe wasn't entirely a coincidence..."

"How did you find me?" he asked.

"Um... your name's on the sign," she said, her British accent hitting his ears as she gestured up at the sign on the front of the shop. His eyes followed her gaze. "I looked you up online and this popped up."

"What do you want?" he said firmly, not wanting to be impolite, but wanting to cut things off fast if she was planning any funny business.

"Well, I did enjoy our little talk, and I don't have many friends since I moved here, so..." she began with a smile, but the skepticism never left his face. "Okay, uh, I admit... I had an ulterior motive."

"What do you mean?" he said, stepping back, sensing danger.

"No, no, no, nothing like that, nothing bad," she interjected, not wanting to scare him off. "I know we joked about it before, but you said you take, like, pictures?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Well, like I said, I am a model, and even though I got these, uh... enhancements..." she said coyly, "The work hasn't exactly been coming in. I mean, it's all about who you know, and I don't really know anyone yet. I don't have an in. I came over to this country looking for something big. And, I'm like, on my own, and I don't have a lot of money, and I... I... I don't know if I'm gonna make it here," Maggie said, tearing up, her accent making her seem more like the fish out of water she was, all alone in another country. Despite his worry about her true intentions, he wasn't heartless, and the sight of her showing some emotion softened his stance.

"Are you okay?" he asked. As a tear rolled down her cheek, she smiled brightly.

"I'm... sorry... I'm not normally like this," the British woman said, wiping the tear away. "I don't like admitting defeat, and I'm really struggling."

"So... why did you come to me?" he asked, eyes narrowing as the late afternoon sun shown in his eyes for a moment.

"You said you take pictures?" she began.

"I told you, I don't take, like, those type of pictures," he replied quickly.

"Listen, all I need is a few really good quality pictures. I know it's not your thing, but it would really help me out. Nothing crazy, just a few nice photos. I can post them online, and that way, someone will just have to notice me... right?" she said.

"I... Maggie, I don't know if this is right," he replied. He was a good guy, and he wanted to help, but this would look really bad if his wife found out. There was no way a guy like him and a woman like Maggie should be hanging out unless they were doing other things beyond just hanging out.

"I know it might look bad, like... I mean, I know I kinda hit on you before at the office, but my intentions are pure this time. Honest!" Maggie lied. He looked away, considering his options, on one hand wanting to help her, but knowing how bad this would seem stopped him from just outright agreeing.

"Maggie... I can't," Andrew said, shaking his head, his better judgment winning out.

"Andrew," she said, jumping forward, and grabbing his hand in hers. She bent over slightly as she squeezed his palm. "I'm a girl who traveled across an ocean, and spent almost every dollar I have to live my dream. To be a model. To be a star. And YOU can help! You can help me live my dream! Please!" she begged passionately. As she spoke, she bent over slightly, causing her massive, soft breasts to hang down. Her tight top struggled to contain the weighty jugs, the soft flesh pouring over the edges, and despite knowing better, Andrew's eyes were drawn to her rippling cleavage. He knew better, but she was speaking with such genuine passion that it was hard to say no to her. It kind of reminded him of himself, in a way, taking a chance and making her own path, and he really wanted to help someone in the way some people had helped him. It really did seem like she was being honest with him. And besides, she had really big breasts... which made him want to believe her.

But Andrew was not stupid.

"Maggie..." he began, pulling his hand from hers, stepping back. "I want to help. Really, I do. But, I can't be just hanging out with women from my wife's office, her patients. It's... inappropriate. I'm sorry." He stated simply. She looked up at him, eyes still glimmering with tears, making it hard to deny her. He honestly did want to help. She was clearly in need of some kindness, but it was dangerous, and he knew it.

"I..." she began, looking up at him, chewing on her lower lip. "I understand," she said simply, smiling as she wiped her eyes. "It was a long shot anyway. I knew I shouldn't have asked..."

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

"Well..." Maggie said, reaching into her purse. "If you, at any point, change your mind, please... give me a call. Like, anytime. Here's my number..." she said, scrawling her number onto the back of a receipt and handing it to him.

"Maggie, I..." he said, unsure.

"Please..." she begged him, and not being completely heartless, he took her phone number. She smiled at his acceptance.

"Thank you..." she said softly.

"I... I don't really know if I can help. But... I know a few people, they take photos like I do, and they might be more able to help," he offered.

"Well..." she began. "I don't know who I can really trust out here. I'm just a girl on her own, you know. I don't want to take pictures with just anyone... I want to take them with someone I trust. And, I don't really know why, but I think I can trust you," Maggie stated warmly. Andrew smiled.

"Well, I, uh, appreciate it. I guess I see your point," Andrew said.

"So... you'll, at least, think about it?" Maggie asked. Andrew shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll think about it," he relented, making her smile brightly.

"Thank you!" she said, for a moment seeming like she wanted to jump forward and hug him, but stopping herself, as if she knew better.

"Well, uh... I have to go..." he stated with a small smile. "My wife's probably waiting."

"Oh, uh yeah, okay, of course" Maggie replied, nodding. "Again..." she said, holding up her hands like she was praying. "Please, please, please think about it!" Andrew smiled and nodded. "Okay... bye Andrew," Maggie stated, waving at him before sauntering off. Andrew watched her pad away, her flip-flops click-clacking as she walked. For a moment, he couldn't help but admire her. His eyes consumed her hot body, despite himself. His eyes traversed her long, tanned, firm legs, landing on her round, firm, heart-shaped, denim-clad ass, bouncing side-to-side with every step she took. The shorts were so short he could almost see some of the round, juicy cheeks. And speaking of round and juicy, his eyes traveled upward. Even though she was walking away from him, and he was facing her taut, lean back... her big fake breasts were so large he could see the sides of them from behind. They jiggled as she walked.

Andrew shook his head as he was reminded as to why being around her was such a bad idea. She conjured up bad thoughts, thoughts no good husband should be having. She did come across as passionate and genuine about needing help following her dreams, but being in her presence was intoxicating. It turned him into a drooling, knuckle-dragging male, a far cry from the artistic, complex man he truly was. He normally thought about art and other creative activities, but when around this woman, Maggie... all he could think about was sex! Big tits, hot asses, and other naughty things. She made him think bad, naughty thoughts, that's for sure, stirring something inside him that he didn't quite understand.

He knew he should probably just throw her number away, and truly, he would have, but there wasn't a garbage can in sight. And being the environmentally conscious guy he was, he didn't want to litter, so he pushed the number into his pocket and moved away from her, towards his car.

Maggie didn't look back, because she couldn't hide the smile on her face. Her plan was working like a charm. Luckily, she didn't actually expect him to just give in so quickly. What fun would that be? But she had gotten what she wanted. She had given him her number. With a bit of waterworks, and the woe-is-me story, his stance on her had softened. He felt sorry for her. He wanted to help her. He wanted to rescue her. And eventually, his guilt would win out, and he would ring her up. Because deep down, he was truly in love with her. Deep down, he wanted to fuck her.

Her pussy moistened with excitement. Things were going so well! He had just taken the first step on the path that would end with his raw, married cock buried DEEP in Maggie's vagina. The hands that had accepted her number would soon to be filled to the brim with her massive, fake tits.

She couldn't wait!

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

Andrew was shaken a bit by this fresh run-in with Maggie. Obviously, he suspected she was bad news. She had admitted that she had pretty much stalked him to track him down. Her intentions were seemingly pure, as she sought him out to get some pictures taken, but deep down, he suspected her true intent. He couldn't forget how she flirted with him and teased them in their first encounter. He couldn't forget about the way she had affected him before. He couldn't forget about that body!

It seemed wrong to even notice. It seemed wrong to even think about, but... holy shit! She seemed even hotter now than she did before. He was a married man, and honest to God, this stuff never really affected him. He was a guy who liked to believe he was above this type of thing. But damn... Maggie's tits were enormous! So soft looking... so smooth... so perfect. They were just so freaking big! Andrew had never gone out of his way to go to his wife's place of work, under the auspice of not wanting to intrude on his wife's workplace, but maybe that was hiding the truth. Maybe, he suspected he couldn't handle that type of visual temptation. Deep down, maybe he was worried he couldn't handle being around women with such excessive and mouth-watering curves. The type of curves his wife's work fashioned.

And his wife did excellent work.

Andrew had never had an issue with his wife being a plastic surgeon. Some might think it was a very hollow profession. A very fake and unnecessary line of work. But Andrew knew his wife, and he knew that she wasn't the typical plastic surgeon. She had higher aspirations, but her talent was undeniable. She was really good at what she did, and people paid top dollar to get work done by her talented hands. Some women would bankrupt themselves to get their tits done by Kathleen. People like Maggie...

He empathized with her struggle. It mirrored his in many ways. He took a chance to follow his dream, even though it was a risk. She had done the same, in her own way. Sure, his dream was to pursue his creative urges for woodworking and photography, and hers was getting huge fake tits to become a glamour model. They were very different in merit, but not in feeling. They were on the same journey, so on that hand, he empathized with her. He wanted to help, because he knew how valuable that kind of help could be.

But he couldn't just ignore that nagging feeling that she wanted more. That, despite what she said, she wanted more than just a few innocent pictures. A lot more. So, despite him wanting to help, he knew that it was treading in dangerous waters.

Andrew tried to just forget her, to move on, ignore that nagging feeling of guilt and... something else... that had been with him since their first encounter. A weird deep feeling inside him that he couldn't quite place. He tried to ignore all that, but the world wasn't gonna let him forget. As bad as it sounded, it seemed like everywhere he looked, all he saw was breasts. He knew he was living in a culture that was becoming more and more obsessed with big boobs every day, but this was ridiculous!

When driving by the beach, his eyes would drift towards the shore, and the hot, oiled up, bikini-clad boobs found there. When he went to the gym, all he could notice were the women sporting large, sweaty, sports bra-clad breasts. On TV, big breasts. In real life, huge boobs. On his computer screen, enormous naked tits. There was no escape. Even when he was driving to work, he would see this one fucking billboard, with a large-busted, bikini clad woman offering her wares. So lost was he in her blown-up, proudly displayed cleavage that it took him awhile to realize that he knew this woman. It was that doctor, that other plastic surgeon, the one that got her breasts done by Kathleen, only to open up her own clinic using Kathleen's work as free advertisement.

His sudden breast obsession got even more bizarre. There was a bakery near his work, and the sight of two large, baked buns conjured up thoughts of a large pair of breasts. Or a pair of hills in close proximity, resembling a perfect set of mountainous boobs. He didn't make this connection, but to any onlooker looking through his pictures, the through line would be obvious.

Everywhere he looked... curves. Everything he thought about... curves. Now that he was looking for curves, it was all he could see. Whereas before, both his woodwork and photography, he appreciated the clean efficiency of hard edges and straight lines, but now that seemed so dull to him. He was starting to find curves much more interesting. Much more appealing.

And just like that, Andrew had entered a new phase of creativity.

Where before, he struggled to find inspiration, now it was flowing through him. His camera was burning up, he was using it so much, looking around to capture of images of all the beautiful curves around him. It wasn't like he was sneaking pictures of unsuspecting women. Nothing like that. The world itself had more than enough curvature to satisfy his new fascination. Even in his woodwork, he had started integrating curves in places he would normally utilize hard, straight edges. And this was being done to rave reviews.