Lisinopril hydro

I wonder if this would count as hydro-therapy? Nice job with the imagery. I've always wondered what two or three mouths would feel like at the same time. Maybe I'll take a bath and find out...

Your description closely parallels my own experience, including some gynecomastia as a side effect of blood pressure meds (Lisinopril is the US brand), so my guess is your story is pretty autobiographical and VERY interesting to me. One thing I have doubts about is listening to augment your breasts. Listening to what? or is this another trick pulled by Autocorrect?

You've got me hooked onto this. That suspense where Piplup suddenly uses Hydro Pump - I was surprised! Thought it was Level Five or something. By the way, Piplup doesn't really have a type advantage against Garchomp. While Water is super-effective against Ground, Dragon actually resists Water. It probably doesn't make much of a difference to most readers, but proper fans of the Pokemon games might throw a hue and cry. :)
Nice story though. Looking forward to reading the rest of it.

And I thought this was a trick just for the boys! I have enjoyed MANY water-jet orgasms over the last 30 years, and still LOVE them. The heat and swirling of the water creates sensations all over one's body, then moving into position, the gentle massaging on my penis is just heavenly. After a VERY long time, when it's time to get out, a slight shuffle creates a continuous, intense, relentless stimulation in just the right place. I can barely wait. The rush of pleasure is endless and my penis flops around in the water stream until I hold it steady and direct the water blast right onto the sensitive head. It builds, slowly and deliciously, until I feel it, nearly there. Almost. Oh my god, it's beautiful. I'm so hard and my whole body's tensed up like a rock. A rock with a very prominent erection, big and hard, harder than any normal stimulation can achieve! And then it's there. BANG! I'm pumping hard, pulsing and squirting a huge load. Where it goes I don't know and don't care - it's just amazing and my whole body's tight and pressurized, relieved only by the escaping flow firing like crazy from my rigid cock. I slump and enjoy the continuing hydro massage, more gentle now but still loving the turbulent water on my still twitching cock.
Yes I do love it. I would love to share experiences with you or collaborate on a story together sometime!

A successful businessman has a cheating wife and he BTB. Or a seemingly ordinary schlub has a cheating wife, they divorce, then he becomes a super entrepreneur, by luck and/or a hidden entrepreneurial savant that is only found because of the divorce, so he wins by “living the EXTREMELY good life”
Don’t get me wrong. I love his stories. Sort of like Cinderella, but she’s a he, and the the wicked and ugly stepmother is the cheating wife.
But what happens when the schlub is truly an ordinary guy. What if in this story the protagonist is never had a Aspergers friend who loaned him hundreds of thousands to start a business (we’ll call him Bob), but instead remained a middle level engineer at an irrigation equipment manufactery. Not handsome, not ugly; let’s call it a 6/10. Socially semi-awkward. Slightly above average intelligence (let’s say 115 IQ). Middle-middle class, living extended a bit out on credit cards, second mortgage on slightly too big a house to afford the pool wife and kids wanted. Two kids he adores. Cute wife (let’s say an easily acknowledged 8/10), that he feels lucky to have captured her heart in college, and he adores too.
Cute wife cheats. She asks forgiveness. He takes her back. She cheats again. Threatens in divorce he will rape him financially, and take the kids.
That’s what I was sort of expecting in this story, then BOOM he has millionaire friends who join him in business so he’s rich too. Can afford to drag out divorce. Can afford to build nice apartment in basement (I’d guess $40,000 if contracting it out?). What if he lives in the basement, but, being a hydro engineer, is able to design and put in a nice toilet, shower and sink, but has to sleep on a cot on cement slab floor. He SLOWLY works getting framing and walls up, learning by doing. How long will it take, and how nice of a place can it truly be for his daughters?
Can’t afford a PI to prove she’s cheating. Maybe she’ll smart enough to keep him at bay. He can’t very well be following her around all the time if he’s busy until 10pm each night working on the apartment.
What happens here? How can he BTB?
What if Cinderella was out in the forest picking berries when the Prince came round with the glass slipper?
Just thoughts.

My first wife cheated on me because, hang on to your hat, she said I wasn't aggressive enough for her. WTF? I romanced her, loved her and she spit in my face. She left me for an old boyfriend, did she already start before we were over? I suspect yes, but never knew for sure. Of course, she vehemently denied it.
She moved in with him that very first day she left me. I knew in my heart she had been pounded by him. The first thing I did was go get tested and thankfully I was clean. Four months later, we were single and she was living with him in unwedded bliss. Me? I lived alone and liked it that way. I heard through the grapevine Josie and Tom were thinking about marrying and I was all for it. Two cheating slime balls that deserved each other.
A year later, I was living in an old 5th wheel on a small 8 acre piece of property I had paid cash for. Hell, I didn't have a payment on anything! Every dime I made, (I'm an author) went into my savings account to build my dream home. Not the dream home of others, but MY dream home. While it built, I stayed at home, saving and using the fir timber to build my smallish log home. Other trees I cut and had cut into planks, to sit and cure until I was ready to begin the finishing.
It sat another year with the roof on, the doors and windows in, with the planks just waiting to be laid for my flooring. After two years and saving every nickel, I finally hired a crew to do that I wasn't capable of, plumbing, wiring, partitioning, etc. The fir planking, along with other boards I had cut, cedar, maple and alder, were used to finish work. When I was done and ready to move in, it wasn't pretty, it was spectacular. All 1080 square feet! Of course, if the full basement was added, then it went up to exactly 1800 square feet. 24x30 with a loft, sat on a full basement.
On top of that, I was and still am, off the grid. Solar, micro-hydro and propane are my forms of power. Doing 100% of my job on the internet, I was able to move in and still have over $50K left over. My ex and I had parted without any children or alimony and she had her own job. During all my scrimping, saving and building, a couple buddies told me Josie had begun to ask about me. She didn't know where I lived and I wanted it kept that way. 17 miles from town on a mountaintop, we weren't going to cross paths.
It turned out, after accidently meeting a few of our common friends, who by the way, didn't even know I was still around, Josie and Tom had split about a year into the relationship. He cheated on her (!) and after the second time, that she knew of, an itching and burning drove her to the clinic. There, she found good old and faithful Tom, who she was engaged to marry, had given her something only meds could get rid of. She moved out and within a few weeks, moved in with another guy. He was abusive and she finally left him from the hospital and went home to mommy and daddy. Our friends said she was pining for the day of our marriage and asked about me often. They swore she was not only not dating, but had sworn off men forever. Perfect, one less slut to infect others, was my opinion.
I had a pole garage built about the time I had my first novel sold. I'm not sayig I was swimming in money, but up front $75K and then royalties were great. It was easy wrting and I soon, to the delight of my agent and publisher, was pumping out novels every 14 weeks. After a year, writing under an assumed name (still do), I finally had real money in my bank account.
Living off the grid and staying home made it difficult to meet women and I just about wore the skin off the palm of my hand. Still, it was better than the alternative, I no longer trusted women, any woman. The few times I happened across friends, I always had to hear about how Josie would like to reconnect again. Nope, not me, it wasn't going to happen. My publisher (Penguin) forced me to do a book tour. I took off three months from living alone and did the big fifty day meet and greet, signing copies, being interviewed on podcast and radio. I met some really nice people and one in particular caught my attention. She was a little red-haired girl about five foot nothing and had never broke 100lbs in her life. After the tour was over, I headed home where I could write much better than in a motel room. Besides, I ate/eat out of my garden and I'd put on a few pounds traveling.
Josie finally caught up with me, unbeknownst to me. She saw me driving by in my (then) new 2013 F350 4x4 and after recognizing me, followed me home. She turned around but came back the following day when I was sitting on the covered front porch. She looked good, perhaps a little emaciated, at 5'6, I'd guess her weight at 110lbs
I offered her a seat on the front porch and poured her a cup of coffee from the carafe I had sitting nearby. She explained how much she loved my place, before she went into a long diatribe of how stupid she had been. How much she still loved me and had never quit, she would do anything for a reconciliation. Throughout all this, I never said a word. Finally she asked me what I was thinking about. I was honest and told her she was damaged goods to me and while when we were first married, I went where no man had went before. Except now, it was just used pussy. That made her weepy and even more apologetic.
The door opening behind us surprised Josie. My little red-haired girl came out and asked me to introduce them. I did and Josie seemed upset when I introduced Marianne as my wife of a year. She cried and the two women had a good talk, but I left to work on my garden. She left and I never saw her again after that. She moved from western Wyoming to California, I heard, but my red-hair girl and I still live off the grid about 17 miles out of Pinedale, Wyoming!