She’s got the most amazing boobs… but she’s my best friend’s wife

So there’s this girl I know – my best friend’s wife, actually (yeah… I know…) – and she’s got the kind of boobs that just haunt you. Big, heavy, perfectly round, like they were sculpted just to drive men insane. But she barely ever show them off, which somehow just makes it worse. Sometimes I get a teasing glimpse of them in a bra down her blouse when she leans over a bit too far, or maybe she’ll wear a tight tank top for once — but bikinis? Almost never. Once, maybe twice. And it’s torture because she. ROCKS. a bikini.

Don’t get me wrong – I don’t fantasize about fucking her. Not really, my brain never goes there. But I just can’t stop imagining what her boobs would look like, what they would feel like. I’ve had dreams about it. Woken up hard more than once. I’d LOVE to grope her. But going further than that? Well, if it ever did happen, I honestly don’t know if I’d have the self-control to stop.

I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Run some of her photos through AI to strip her down. Stared way too long when she’s not looking. Even considered some seriously fucked up shit like playing Peeping Tom, planting a hidden cam, or just blurting it all out and seeing what happens. But that’s just a bit too creepy, I’ll never cross that line. I know how wrong it is. But the truth is, I can’t STOP thinking about her boobs!

Then the other night, something happened.

We were saying goodbye after one of our visits, we had a great time laughing and chatting. She stepped in for the usual hug, nothing out of the ordinary, but this time I suddenly felt adventurous, crazy, so I went low, my arms below hers instead of around her shoulders like I usually do. She leaned up a bit to wrap around me, and as we pulled apart, I let my hands slid along her sides under her arms… and then… the next moment, my palm was pressing right against the curve of her big beautiful breast.

It was just a brush. A second. But fuck, I felt it. Warm, full, real. Like the shape of it was burned into my palm.

And she didn’t even flinch. No reaction. No smile, no surprised look, no recoil, no comment. Just calm, casual… like it hadn’t happened. But I know it did. I felt it. And I can’t stop replaying it in my head, damn I can STILL feel the shape of her on my palm!

But here’s the really crazy thing – the next time we hugged, I played it cool. Kept it normal. No funny moves, didn’t want to push my luck. But she did it instead. Her arms went under mine. Her hands slid along my ribs — just like I’d done to her. Like she remembered… Like she was giving me a silent signal, giving me permission to do it again.

I still don’t know what it meant. Was it innocent? A coincidence? Or was she saying — without words — that she didn’t mind?

I can’t stop thinking about it.

So what now… do I go for it? What would you do?