Reed Apologies (And Watches For The Villain To Tip Their Hand)

Emotional intelligence was not Mister Fantastic's forte. The feelings of a woman, even his beloved wife, were more mysterious to him than the forces beyond the event horizon of a black hole. Yet he was not without a certain hard-won cunning, nor beyond the hard-learned suspicions of a man with many enemies, and many loved ones to protect.

He considered, for a moment, that Sue Storm might honestly wish to wear an H-cup brassiere. But the thought was so ludicrous that he quickly discarded it. The demure Susan Storm Richards had never spoken about any unhappiness with her bust before this, not even during or after her pregnancy, when her modest bosom had swollen like a pair of udders. Certainly, if she desired an augmentation, she would have come to him. He knew more about her body than anyone, had access to the most advanced medical technologies on this and several neighboring planets...

No, Reed Richards decided. His wife was being manipulated. By whom, he did not yet know, and therein lay the problem.

In his lab, the delicate instrument he had been working on momentarily forgotten, a cosmic intellect turned toward how to discover who was manipulating Sue Storm. And a simple, workable deception seemed the obvious solution. He would apologize, offer to make amends, sweet words, take her bra shopping, whatever Sue wanted. Mollified, Sue Storm could continue with her plans. Whoever was manipulating her would be bound to follow up, to force her to actually go through with the augmentation.

Reed Richards just needed to monitor her until their foe revealed themselves. He had no intention of actually letting her disfigure herself with such enormous tits.

Dinner, by the time Sue Storm was ready to make it, was already ordered. As Johnny, Ben, Franklin, Valeria, and Alicia feasted on pizza and stromboli, Reed had set up a quiet candlelight dinner for two in their bedroom. Roast duck, oysters on the half shell, fresh strawberries, and what looked suspiciously like the heart-shaped herb salad that the Wakandan restaurant served.

Her husband, in suit and tie, popped the cork on the champagne.

"Darling, I'm sorry," he said. "I've been heartless. I must have neglected you terribly to fail to notice your desire for a breast augmentation. Please accept my apology. I didn't mean it."

Sue had chosen a rather low-cut evening gown, which with her falsies on, barely fit her. What was worse, it made eating a bit of a chore; when pressed up against the table, Sue couldn't see her plate. She settled, finally, on raising an invisible shelf above her bustline.

Reed filled her champagne glass. It wasn't actual champagne, she saw, as the pale blue effervescent alcohol filled the crystal flute. It was the sparkling wine made in the Blue Area of the Moon, a gift from the Inhuman Royal Family. Something that Reed Richards normally only broke out when he wanted to get laid.

His tongue began to stretch out of his mouth, below the level of the table.

"Pleathe," he said. "I'll do anything. Don'th be mad ath me."

Sue Storm sighed. She could count the number of times her husband had willingly gone down on her with both hands, and fingers to spare. She spread her thighs.

"Alright," she said. "You're forgiven. Just keep in mind one thing: IF I go through with this augmentation, I go as big as I want. Understood?"

"Perfecthly," Reed acknowledged, as his tongue wrapped around her ankle and slid, snake-like, to where Sue was carefully wrenching aside her panties to give him access.