My Man's Rack

(This is one of my wilder stories. Maybe not everyone's thing, but some guys might enjoy the ride.)

As Mark and I sat in the nondescript doctor's office, I could tell he was a little nervous. But god, my husband was handsome. We'd come straight from the office, and Mark was wearing a snug maroon polo that contoured his meaty body and brought out the green in his eyes and the gray in his temples.

I reached over and grabbed his hand affectionately. "Second thoughts?" I asked.

He seemed to think a second, then shook his head resolutely. "No, Jase. I want this, too."

I smiled back, feeling a relief that he wasn't backing out. At least not yet. It had taken a lot to get us here. The first year we'd dated, Mark had been real self conscious about his chest. He'd just turned forty and when his metabolism changed the spread went straight to his love handles and to some extra fullness in his pecs. Mark didn't have moobs, not quite, but his pectoral muscle was pretty damn round and solid - he was the kind of professional gay dude whose gym workouts were heavy on bench pressing, as he double pumped his vanity muscles of chest and arms. The middle-aged spread just accentuated those dad tits.

Yeah, Mark winced the first time I called them that, so I held off. But I loved to play with his chest. Like nonstop. Thing was, Mark loved the attention. I was eight years younger and what he called the whole package - good body, good looks, good job. I wasn't conceited about it, but I knew I had the goods to find hot bottoms in the city. And when I met Mark, it was just this incredible sexual chemistry that boiled over into head-over-heels romance.

We learned to trust each other, to confide in one another. Mark didn't have the same kinks as me, but he told me about his underwear and jockstrap fetish, which I happily indulged. He got me to slow my roll in the bed sometimes, giving him massages or all over body kisses. I'd been so used to Grindr hookups, it was an adjustment, but I loved the sensual approach, too, it turns out.

Meanwhile, I had one big kink. I loved big tits on older guys. I loved feeling a man's round chest swells, loved sucking at his nips, loved that perverted psychodrama of nursing from daddy's bosom.

Guys had been freaked out before, or just self-conscious like Mark. But as Mark and I grew more serious, my boyfriend relaxed into the idea. More often he indulged my nipple and chest play. He actually amped up his chest workouts, adding an insane number of flys to his benching days. He actually would show off his titties to me, flashing them while we watched TV or flexing them in the bedroom. He got OK with the T word.

It was during our honeymoon when he brought it up. A week in paradise in Fiji, just us fucking nonstop and enjoying the quiet down time in between. Mark tanned better than me, and his rack was a nice chestnut brown color after a couple of days. I'd fucked him slow and steadily in missionary, watching those chest mounds shake and jiggle with each thrust. The harder I fucked, the more they did, till I busted hard in my husband's ass. I went at it more gently as he stroked one out, too.

We kissed softly and caressed each other in the afterglow. And yeah, maybe my hand reached up to cup his pecs again.

"You ever want 'em bigger, Jason?" he asked.

I felt like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. I actually removed my hand from his chest and slid it down his belly. Mark was self conscious about his love handles, but I preferred a dad bod to ripped abs. His was amazing, solid for 47, with just the right amount of give. "Your body is great, hon," I said.

He laughed and reached down to grip my hand and pulled back up to his chest as he flexed that pectoral muscle for me. "You didn't answer my question," he smiled.

I ogled that massive hairy chest, getting off on how the fur got thicker and more salt-and-pepper in the cleavage, then looked up at him. "I feel like this is a trap," I laughed nervously.

"No trap," he answered sincerely. "I've been doing some research and they've made a lot of improvements in implants for men."

I thought I was spent from our coupling not even ten minutes prior, but my husband's words had my dick filling out into a quick hardon. "Yeah?" I prompted, trying to hide the lust in my voice.

The weird thing was, Mark was reading my reaction, feeling me out to see if I was going to get freaked out by the idea. "Yeah. I've been thinking, you know, it might be hot to get that augmentation.... if you were into it."

I outright kneaded his right tit, then moved to the left to do the same. "God, Mark, you have NO idea how much I'd be into it."

That pleased him. My man relaxed back into the fluffy pillows and put his hands behind his head to let me have free rein with his chest. "Oh, I have a pretty good idea," he smirked.

* * *

The plastic surgeon was in his 50s and looked pretty much like you'd expect a plastic surgeon to look. A flashy yet nice suit under his white coat, expensive watch, deep tan from his Caribbean vacation. He sat down in the chair and patted his legs. "So you gentlemen are thinking of exploring some chest augmentation options?" he started after we made introductions.

"I am," Mark replied. "Jason's here for more support."

The doctor smirked, and I knew what he was thinking. There were tons of straight dudes who were buying fake tits for their wives and had a vested interested in the consultation. I was just the gay version of that. But he played it straight. "Well, Mr. Kenyon, tell me what you're thinking."

Mark looked over at me for the go ahead. I nodded. And then he proceded to tell the doctor what we'd discussed. I'd never been prouder of my man for the way he was diving headlong into this.

"Well, I guess I have a big chest naturally," he started. "And I hit the gym hard to make it bigger. It's kind of my thing, you know."

I could see the surgeon examine the size and shape of Mark's pecs through the polo. "Why don't you remove your shirt, if you don't mind?"

Mark nodded gamely and peeled off the shirt. If I'd been anywhere else but a doctor's office, I would have boned up at the sight. Those meaty swells hung a good few inches out from the rest of his torso. and capping them were big round paps.

The doctor was a professional as he examined Mark. "I see what you mean." He looked up at Mark, then me. "You know, I'll be honest gentlemen, most guys who come in here for the augmentation are trying to look pretty much like that," he said, pointing to Mark's rack.

A wave of disappointment hit me, since I thought the surgeon was going to say no or maybe talk Mark out of the procedure.

But Mark piped in immediately. "I figured, Doctor Hodges. But I want them a lot bigger. I've thought a lot about it... we both have... and this is what we want."

The doctor paused a second, then shrugged. "All right, then. Let me show you the products we have and then we can talk about size." He pulled out some samples, and described the range of hardness. "This one is the Number Five. It mimics muscle, and it's the most popular among men." He held up the fake plastic boob for Mark to feel, then me. It was firm. Rock hard even.

I read Mark's face, and he returned a smirk before turning back to the doctor. "We want something with a little more give."

The man seemed nonplussed as he showed us four more options. Numbers One and Two were really modeled after soft women's boobs, which wasn't what we were going for. The other two were in between. Number Four was closer to the hard muscle, it was actually similar to Mark's pecs now. Number Three was firm, firmer than I expected, but with an underlying give. Mark smiled as he watched me feel it up.

"So, how does this interact with the natural pec muscle?" Mark asked Dr. Hodges.

"The implant sits on top of the pectoral muscles, but it's a natural, organic shape that will feel like an extension of them."

"Can I still do my normal work outs with them?" Mark asked. I have to admit my husband was great at thinking through the details of everything.

"Absolutely. You'd have to take it easy for three months to recover, but after that, it'll feel like normal." He held up the firmer model and pressed into it. "In fact, we recommend at least some regular exercise to keep the muscle from atrophying."

"Is it reversible?" I asked. Mark hadn't brought up any anxiety about the augmentation, but I still had nagging doubts he would resent it after.

"It is," the doctor explained. "But I only recommend getting it if you're committed."

"I am," Mark assured him. Then added, "we are."

God, a lump was forming in my throat at the idea this might actually happen.

"What sizes do they come in?" I asked. Probably sounding like those straight husbands fixated on big tits.

Hodges didn't bat an eye. The Number Five," he said referring to the muscle-hard one, "only comes in the 125cc and 250cc size."

"How big is that?" Mark asked.

The doctor held up two sample. "In women it corresponds to a half cup to a cup gain in size. But the profile of this one is different since it's firmer and men's chests are broader." He set them down and held up the Number Three, which was the firm-soft one I'd been drawn to. "The softer women's models can run pretty big, to 1200cc... you know porn star implants... but for something like this, you're looking at a range from 125 to 500cc. If you like, I can go get some more samples to compare."

"Yeah, that would be great," Mark said. My husband was still sitting shirtless and I imagined those meaty tits of his with the implants we were discussing.

The man took a look at Mark. "Looks like you're the equivalent of a B cup now." He looked up. "Forgive the women's terminology. The male augmentation market is slow to catch up with the improvement in implants."

"No worries," my husband laughed. He reached down and played with the muscular flesh. "No one's gonna mistake this hairy chest for a woman's."

"True," Hodges chuckled then stood up. "All right I'll be right back."

My heart pounded as Mark and I sat there. "We really doing this hon?" I asked.

Mark seemed taken about. "Come on Jason, I thought we talked about this... you want it, right?" He'd misunderstood me.

"God yeah I want it. But it seems so real, you know. I wanted to make sure."

Mark patted my arm and leaned over to kiss me in a soft peck. "Relax, babe. This is gonna be amazing." I nodded. And fuck, I was starting to get a hardon, despite my nervousness. I tried to focus on other thoughts and was at least half way under control when Dr. Hodges returned.

"These are women's samples," he apologies. "But it'll give you an idea. The top matches the general size of your chest now, and the implant sizes are lined up below."

I examined them, as did, Mark.

"Go ahead, fellas," Dr. Hodges urged. "Have a feel. It's an important decision and you want to be comfortable with it."

The hottest thing was Mark examined the samples but mostly watched as I felt them up. He was eager to see how big a pair of tits I wanted on him. I got to the biggest, 500cc, and while they were all hot to feel up, this one drove me wild. My boner returned full force, and I blushed and squirmed to hide it the best I could.

Hodges actually chuckled. "Don't worry, Mr. Peterson," he said. "You're not the first husband to have that reaction."

Mark laughed too and looked at me eagerly. "You like that one, Babe?" he asked.

I couldn't let go. But I couldn't answer him honestly. "Isn't it too big?" I asked. This was gonna be a big augmentation for Mark, and the cautious husband in me didn't want to be the one pushing him to get massive.

But my husband turned to the doctor. "They don't come bigger?"

Hodges shook his head. "Not in this firmness. But with your natural muscle, particularly if you keep working out, you could probably gain another half cup size."

"OK," Mark, said, as if he was weighing the options.

The doctor seemed surprised. "I can bring out the Number Twos. They go up to 750cc."

Mark nodded and like that Hodges stepped out again.

"Jesus, Mark," I hissed.

My husband was defensive. "Just seeing what our options are, Jason. I'm not going to do anything unless we're both happy with it."

I gave a nod. I don't know why I was the nervous one here. But Mark gave flashed me a grin and nudged my arm. "Tell me you didn't like the biggest one."

"I loved it," I finally said honestly.

The next samples went bigger. Much bigger. I didn't find them as hot, though, in part because they were too soft. "I don't want a woman's breast," I said openly and matter-of-factly.

"I think we're leaning toward the Number Three in the 500cc size," Mark asserted.

Hodges looked at me. "Is this something you want to discuss or think over?"

I looked at my handsome husband and felt I was the luckiest man in the world. The look between us conveyed everything we needed to say. I turned back to Hodges. "No, we've talked it over a lot, Doctor. This is what we want to go for."

* * *

The sex when we got home that evening was scorching hot. Mark going full verbal in telling me to suck Dad's tits. Me motorboating his ample pecs, imagining more. Imagining the man hooters Mark would have after those amble implants. He came as I licked at his bosom. I was a few seconds behind him.

At some point over the next month, leading up to the procedure, the sexual excitement gave way to a nervousness. But Mark wasn't backing out. The surgery itself wasn't a walk in the park for him, and I felt bad for that. But I supported every way I could. Looking after his needs, cooking his favorite meals.

It was a few weeks until Mark was in the mood to have sex again. I couldn't really feel up his chest, but that first fuck was incredible since it had been so long.

It got even better. Once Mark had fully healed, it turns out Dr. Hodges was right. These looked like real tits. Meaty, dad tits firm to the touch and covered with fur. But big round honkers that were a genuine handful. If anything the 500cc implants made Mark's chest look even bigger than I expected. And I was pleased that they felt fleshy full but not too soft.

I went wild in bed being able to feel those puppies up while I fucked him. Mark loved it and felt a real confident sexiness I'd never quite seen from him. But out of the bedroom, in the real world, he adjusted to his new body. He had to get new shirts and was sometimes self conscious about having a big rack in public. He used compression shirts at first to hold in the swells some, making it look more like solid muscle.

I knew things had changed when he stopped wearing the compression. Just letting those big puppies fill out his polo or T shirts. That's when our sex life went off the charts. I couldn't keep my hands off him. "I should have gotten the tits earlier, babe," Mark laughed as I undid his button down shirt for a lunch time quickie.

"You're so goddamn sexy," I'd growl in return, leaning into kiss and lick at that ample firm flesh.

One evening I slathered those muscle hooters with albolene and had my first titty fuck. After I came on Mark's neck and leaned down to kiss him in appreciation, I decided I wanted a lot more of that.

Mark worked out constantly, pumping the chest more. Getting bigger. It was like an addiction for him, as much as for me. He loved to show off for me. Show off to the world. On our first beach vacation, seeing Mark in some snug lycra trunks and his bare big chested torso on full display was such a crazy horny sight. There were some curious and even disapproving stares at the beach, but I could also see I wasn't the only dude who loved a big daddy rack.

And sure, when we had passionate late afternoon sex, me fucking Mark from behind and feeling up that awesome chest, I worried my husband would think I was treating him like a piece of meat. Objectifying him. But after we came, we'd hold onto one another and cuddle. I'd softly rub Mark's soft stomach fur, until he guided my hand back up to his tits. I decided I didn't need to explain things or apologize for objectifying him. This is who we were and it was an incredible thing.