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From my office above I look down on the visiting section of the county prison. I’m the warden there and I always like to see who comes to visit the prisoners. I see that the wife of a certain inmate has shown up again. She’s been coming every weekend for weeks. I can always tell it’s her because she has big boobs. Real big though. Huge. At least I think so. Sometimes she just looks fat - or pregnant. I haven’t seen her up close, not yet, but I intend to. You see, I like to imagine a lot and fantasize. I’ve been doing that - trying to imagine what her boobs must look like - ever since I first saw her. I do it so much it makes me masturbate. So, I haven’t wanted to see her up close just in case her boobs aren’t as big and pendulous as I imagine. Don’t want my fantasy dashed. But I’ve been getting so turned on just looking forward to her next visit that I decided to meet her. The other day I got an idea.
“Have the visitor of prisoner 5207 come to my office before she leaves,” I commanded a guard through my intercom. ‘Seeing her in my office I’ll be able to tell just how big her boobs really are,’ I thought to myself. ‘In my office I can look at her without any one noticing.’
I fumbled around at my desk trying to occupy myself until she arrived. Finally, I heard a knock on my door. I went to open it, hoping it was her, and it was.
“Mrs. Jones?,” I asked as professionally sounding as I could.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Please come in,” I said as I gestured.
She was about five and half feet tall and stocky, but I could tell right away she had huge boobs. She also looked to be in her 50’s. ‘At her age,’ I thought, ‘her tits must really sag a lot when she’s topless.’ I felt my dick beginning to swell.
“And please sit down,” I gestured to her again.
I then took my seat behind my desk and looked at her, at her eyes so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
“First of all,” I began, “You ARE Mrs. Sarah Jones, is that correct?”
“Yes,” she answered simply.
“And you are the wife of Richard Jones, correct? ... Who is imprisoned here,” I added.
“Yes, ... That’s correct,” she replied.
“And you’re aware that your husband is coming up for parole soon?,” I asked.
“Yes. I am. That’s why I’ve been visiting him. We’re making plans for when he gets out,” she explained.
“You mean IF he gets out?,” I asked assertively.
“Well, ... yes, IF he does,” she answered sheepishly.
“It sounds like you’d really like that, ... for him to get out soon?,” I asked leadingly.
“Um, ... yes, ... of course.” she replied a little quizzically.
“Well I think it’s a very good chance that he will if I have any say on the matter, ... and I would really like to help.”
She looked at me stone-faced. I think she knew what was coming. ‘God only knows how many times she’s been propositioned before,” I thought.
“Sarah, if I may call you that,” I continued, “is there any way you can help assure that?"
We held eye contact for several seconds before she spoke. “Um, ... I think so,” she replied carefully, “what do you have in mind?”
”Well, ... tell me, ... Have you ever had children?," I asked gingerly.
“Uh, ... yes, ... I have. Three,” she stammered nervously.
“And did you nurse them?,” I asked quietly.
She saw my eyes look down at her massive chest when I said that. I tried to imagine what it would look like if she were topless.
“Yes, ... all three of them” she answered, feeling herself giving in to my lustful inquiries, “each until they were four.”
'Oh my god!,' I thought again, 'Her nipples must have gotten huge, and maybe they still are!' I felt more pressure in my pants as my cock strained to expand.
“So for how many years would you say that you lactated?,” I asked probingly.
Sarah looked around the room briefly, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “About ten,” she answered quietly.
Hearing that, the strain of my cock to grow bigger became almost painful, so I shifted myself in the chair to ease the pressure. Sarah licked her lips. It was becoming obvious to her what I wanted.
“Really,” I feigned surprise after a few moments, “I mean, I couldn’t help noticing your bust every time I’ve seen you here, and I figured you were a mother. I understand that boobs can get really big when they lactate for long periods, and often stay enlarged. Is that what happened?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.
We looked at each other again intently. She said nothing.
“Sarah,” I started, “I happen to be an amateur photographer, and I like to shoot women.” I began to explain, “Women in the nude, in fact, ... women who I find attractive.”
She stared back at me as I continued. “And I must admit that I find you VERY attractive, your breasts especially. I can only imagine what they must look like after so many years of nursing and I would very much like to see them and photograph them.”
We continued to make eye contact.
“And so,” I added, “If you would agree to pose for me - topless of course - I’ll make sure your husband gets paroled.”
Her eyes shifted around again when I said that.
I waited for several moments for her to respond, and then added, “JUST topless. It will be completely discreet. No one will know about it,” I assured her, “AND I won’t sell or distribute the pictures. They’re just for me.”
I waited for her response, but she still said nothing.
“This isn’t a set up, Sarah,” I interjected, “I’m serious about this. It’s sort of my hobby. And I won’t proposition you for sex either. Just pictures.”
Finally she spoke. “Mr. Warden, ... Are you sure you want this?,” she asked carefully, “I’m not a model type, you know. I'm a big woman.”
“Yes,” I answered confidently, “I'm very sure.”
We made eye contact again, and after a few moments I inquired some more. “What size bra do you wear, Sarah?”
She paused briefly before answering, “Forty-four."
“Forty-four? ... Forty-four what, what's the cup size?” I pressed.
“J,” she answered quietly, “44 J-cup.”
‘44 J,’ I said to myself, ‘Oh my god! That’s incredible!’
My dick grew long and hard, at the prospect of seeing such enormous, sagging udders. I paused, and then said, “Then you’re DEFINITELY the kind of woman I like!”
She shifted slightly in her chair and looked around the room, continuing to feel uncomfortable, not knowing what to do.
I opened a side drawer and removed a piece of paper. “Here,” I said as I handed it to her. “I’ve already reserved a room at this hotel for 3 days. I want you to meet me there each day at about 10 o’clock for you to model, starting tomorrow. Just come as you are, I’ll provide the props.”
“Props?,” she asked quizzically.
“Yeah, ... you know, ... nothing too kinky. Just some bras and tops I’d like to see you in. I have a collection.”
“You do this,” I added, “and I promise Richard will get out, no strings attached.”
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