One night before dinner, DH and I met in the hallway. He opened his arms and I instinctively fell into his hug, brushing his face with mine. His skin was warm and smooth.

As we embraced, his guttural “Aahhhh” told me he was deeply content. DH murmured in my ear, “For a man, there’s nothing like feeling breasts pressed up against your chest.” I pressed against him a little harder.

“So, what is it…does it make you think of sex? Or what?” I asked, pulling away a little.

“No…” he said, thoughtful.

“Is it comforting?” I guessed.

“No…” he said again.

Suddenly, I knew the answer. Imitating my best 13-year-old boy voice, I squeaked, “OH MY GOSH, I HAVE A GIRL TOUCHING ME WITH HER BOOBS!”

He giggled. “That’s it! Boobs!” And I had to giggle, too.

I gave DH another full frontal press so he could enjoy the soft roundness of my double-Ds. I know a man likes boobs but obviously pressed up against his chests is the best option…at least when fully clothed in the hallway.

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