A Plan, Created

Carrie's pen and paper from yesterday seemed to have taken on a life of their own. You read her notes, having emailed her a short list of ideas while at work; you'd never been harder than having to write down your fantasy for the woman you loved so much.

Carrie chewed on the pen. "Alright, so let's establish what you wanna do. Just so we can really make sure we're working towards it."

You both work on the document together, the lawyer in Carrie coming out as you both gradually drink down a bottle of wine (or two or three), but eventually, late in the night, you have a master document with all your ideas. It's a combination of overarching ideas, links to websites, fiction stories that gave you this fetish (Carrie was insistent on learning more of your fetish), and even more.

1. Keep your dick and balls ♡ Carrie's drawn a cute little heart next to this

2A. Biggest natural, floppy jugs on the market.

2B. Implants, backup.

2C. Whatever solution, bigger than your mom

3. Mom figure - fat, jiggly, thick. Naturally made as well

4. Take Carrie's last name at wedding

5. Training on running a house - cooking especially! You hadn't thought your cooking was all that bad...

6. Be more attractive than your mom

7. Be more attractive than Carrie's mom

8. Get a large strap-on

9. Go to doctor tomorrow

10. .....

Eventually the wine hits you hard, and while Carrie continues to scribble and annotate notes, you pass out onto her lap. You hard-on still is raging in your pants. She'd had dozens upon dozens of ideas, and she seemed more serious about this, seeming excited. Her last action you see is kissing you on the forehead.

***

Both of you thankfully had work off the next day, and Carrie seemed quite giddy. For what, you knew not, but she wasn't budging on telling you. You sort of figured what it was going to be when you rolled into a doctor's office, and a very serious face doctor came up to you, seeming to have been briefed by Carrie prior to it. He cleared his throat to get you and Carrie's attention. She was showing you the strap-on she wanted, seeming to have taken your idea of anal and having run with it - her quote being 'Since I'm the man of the house....'.

"Well, for your request..." He flips his notes. "For the supplements which might cause...." His notes flip once more. "...absolutely gigantic knockers, I can advise this..."

This was the moment of truth. Maybe the doctor had something which bestow the motherly, beautiful jugs that you dreamed of? Maybe not, and you'd be getting implants? All that rested on him....Well, him, and the entire medical establishment of the country you lived in. He spoke up...