|
Our
Beautiful Season by Anonymous
I'm glad to know that other
adults appreciate the closeness and bonding that
can be enjoyed by a nursing couple. I'm
glad to know that there are others who do not
find it a shameful experience, but a beautiful
one.
Everything I will recall for
you is true. I've never written anything
like this before, and it's a bit painful to put
my memories into words. I miss those times now.
But I feel compelled to share our experience
with others who will appreciate and understand
it.
I have always been powerfully
attracted to my wife. She has a beautiful
face with big brown eyes, and lovely full
pouting lips with perfect teeth. She has a
figure almost exactly like Marilyn Monroe's, and
I love to see her in every state of dress and
undress. We had been married for about
three years when we were thrilled to learn we
were expecting. Our lovemaking was as
strong and frequent as ever, and I loved
watching her belly fill out, and her breasts
swell. They were a wonderfully full size
before her pregnancy, but it was very satisfying
to see her breasts stand out in their fullness.
After our first was born, and we were able to
resume a normal sex life, milk would come out of
her breasts as we made love. I never tried
to get the milk to come out, but when I took her
breast in my mouth and some milk came out, I
tried not to make a big deal out of it.
And when she was on top of me and her nipples
would leak milk onto my chest, we would just use
it as lubricant on our bodies together, but we
didn't think of nursing as part of our sexual
experience. Then little by little, I began
to enjoy nursing the milk from her. It
felt so deeply intimate, and a little forbidden,
like I was taking something that wasn't meant
for me. We didn't even talk about it at
first, but when we were making love, I would
massage her full breasts, and as soon as they
leaked, I would take one far into my mouth and
suckle firmly, like I meant business. This
wasn't fooling around anymore. I was
nursing and swallowing mouthfuls of milk.
She was surprised, I think, to realize what I
was doing, but she made soft moaning sounds,
letting me know how good it felt.
By the second child I was even
bolder about it. Now nursing was clearly
part of our intimacy. As I watched her
nurse our children during the day I knew that I
would get my turn later. We never let the
children see us. We didn't want to confuse
them. But quite often, in the middle of
the day, after the kids were napping, I would
lead her into the bedroom, and she would open
her robe for me and offer her breasts. It
was foreplay, we both knew that, but we felt so
deeply intimate sharing this experience in this
way. I remember lying on top of her,
nursing gently from each breast to get her milk
to let down, sometimes nursing on one breast,
and expressing milk manually from the other
until I felt the warm milk flowing down my
throat and dribbling across my hand. Then
I would gently pull her breasts together so that
I could get both of her nipples into my mouth at
once. This is when the milk really flowed.
There was something about me nursing from both
of her breasts at the same time that made the
milk flow quite freely. With both of her
breasts flowing into my mouth at once, I
literally had to swallow as fast as I could to
keep up. Then I would open my mouth and
let some of the milk wet her chest, and I would
massage her warm breasts as I entered her.
She was always quite wet and swollen by then.
I'd get both breasts in my mouth again, and
listen to her low moaning as I drank from her
and came into her at the same time.
Sometimes she would be on top,
and as we moved together I'd milk her breasts
all over my chest and face. The milk and
the nursing were beautifully and sacredly linked
to our sexual world together.
By our third child it was
understood. I still remember how my just
looking at her breasts longingly would prompt
her to unbutton her blouse or loosen her robe so
I could nurse. She would hold my face to
her breast with one hand, and stroke my hair
with the other.
It became erotic to nurse away
from home. Quite often she would wear a
nursing dress or top to dinner at a friend's
house even if the kids were staying home.
This was so that we could find time to nurse
during the evening. When there was a time
to slip away, we would go into a bathroom, lock
the door, and I'd watch her make her breasts
accessible. I'd sit against the counter
with my back to the mirror and nurse from her
while she stroked my head and watched me in the
mirror. After about three minutes from
each breast, she would gently pull away, and
bend over the counter, her breasts still
dripping, and watch me move behind her and lift
her dress. She would watch with a smile as
I entered her from behind while milking her
breasts into the sink. Those are some of
my favorite memories.
After our third (and last)
child stopped nursing, her supply dwindled.
Had I known what I know now, I'd have talked
with her about creating a schedule so we could
keep her milk in. But life gets busy, and
as her supply dwindled, I felt something sweet
and intimate slipping away. We still have
a strong sex life, but nursing isn't part of it.
But every time I take her breast in my mouth, I
can almost feel the sweet warm milk on my
tongue. And every time I try to express
milk from her beautiful breasts with my hands, I
look for the drops of milk that never come.
I look back on those years now
as a beautiful season in our lives. If you
are enjoying that season right now, work hard to
sustain it. It's worth every drop
HOME
Land of Milk and
Honey © 2007
All rights reserved.
|