Falling For Mr. Handsomebynicerack©
This is the story of how I met Mr. Handsome...and fell hopelessly in love with him.
It happened when I went to the park one day with Wyatt, a baby I am cross-nursing for a friend. I am lactating, and I have a very healthy milk supply. I wear a bikini to the park, because there is a lake there, where I will take Wyatt and let him wade in the shallow part. My breasts are so full and heavy that the triangle top no longer fits well; it's tight, and I'm bulging and spilling from it.
Now, I have always been an exhibitionist, especially when it comes to my nipples, which are very large, very pink and very sensitive. Lactation is an excellent way to satisfy this longing I have to expose my breasts to unsuspecting men. It gives me the excuse to bare them in public. After all, it's legal in all 50 states, and it's necessary, if you're feeding a baby. I could perhaps be more modest about it, but either way, no one can arrest me for not using a nursing blanket, or for giving a man a lengthy show before allowing the baby to latch on.
I recently happened to spy a very handsome Englishman who frequents this park, and I already have very specific plans for him. He doesn't know it yet, but today is his lucky day.
Now it's time for Wyatt's lunch. He's hungry, and I am engorged. I tie a sarong around my waist and put Wyatt in his stroller, and take him over to a park bench.
There is no one anywhere near this park bench....except for Mr. Handsome. Mr. Handsome is sitting on another park bench...directly across from where I intend to sit. He is reading a newspaper. He looks up briefly from his paper, and notices me. He no doubt notices that my breasts are full and swollen, and spilling out of my triangle top...the kind of top on which the cups slide back and forth on a cord, so I can just move one of them over to expose my breast for feeding. One of my breasts is leaking.
I lift Wyatt out of his stroller. He is a big boy, 10 months-old, and he can point to things to let you know what he wants. He's pointing at my breast. He can also grasp things now and pull them, and that's exactly what he does...to my bikini top. As soon as I sit down and park him on my lap, he grabs the cup of my bikini top and pulls it to one side, and my engorged left breast springs forth, completely exposed, the nipple wet and glistening with milk.
Mr. Handsome gets a good gander at it. It takes a full 5 seconds for Wyatt to latch on to it and begin noisily sucking. I look up and see Mr. Handsome staring at my nipple, which is far too large for Wyatt to fit entirely into his little mouth, but God bless him, he gives it the old college try. "Mmmmm", says Wyatt, his mouth full. I smile at Mr. Handsome and shrug, as if to say, "Kids! What can I say? My milk really IS yummy."
But Mr. Handsome has sadly been rendered completely stupid. He's TRYING not to stare, but he's not used to this. In Britain, not so many women breastfeed in public, and when they do, they try to be more discreet, maybe use a nursing blanket. He's not used to such brazen behavior; it's a shock to his refined sensibilities. He is staring with his mouth slightly open.
I smile at Mr. Handsome. "Beautiful day; isn't it?"
There is a long pause before Mr. Handsome responds. "I'm sorry...did you say something?"
"I just commented on the weather", I say with a knowing smile. "It's such a beautiful day."
"Oh...yes! Quite, quite. Beautiful....um...your son is very handsome. How old is he?"
"Oh, he's 10 months, but he's not mine." An eyebrow is arched. "He belongs to a friend of mine. I'm cross-nursing."
"Really?" Mr. Handsome is all astonishment. Not only is baby Wyatt making fast and free with my bare breast, but he's not even my boy! Mr. Handsome rises from his bench and walks over, presumably to get a better look at young Wyatt, who is still noisily sucking, his hand resting on my other breast. Wyatt is a big, husky boy with blonde hair and blue eyes that are now fixed on Mr. Handsome. Mr. Handsome sees his chance. He makes funny faces at Wyatt, and Wyatt smiles and begins to giggle. To smile, he must release my nipple, and once again, it is bared to Mr. Handsome's gaze. Now, it is red, wet and elongated from Wyatt's lusty sucking. I smile up at Mr. Handsome knowingly and say, "That's very clever of you, making him laugh." Now it's Mr. Handsome's turn to shrug. "I'm a clever guy." But his gaze is fixed on my breast, and his face is now serious. He licks his lips.
"You know", I say in a bedroom voice, "you look awfully...thirsty. Are you thirsty?"
"I confess, I am....parched... of a sudden", replies Mr. H.
I pat the bench next to me. "Why don't you sit down?"
Mr. H. hesitates. This is all very strange. Mr. H. feels he has entered the Twilight Zone. He is half expecting someone to jump out of the hedges, yelling "Smile! You're on Candid Camera!"
He looks nervously around, but sees no one close-by, so he sits. He is now mere inches from me; I can smell his aftershave. It smells wonderful. He's blushing, and trying not to stare at my nipple that Wyatt has resumed hungrily sucking. He can see the areola, because Wyatt's mouth does not conceal it. He hopes he doesn't need to stand again, because he can feel his throbbing erection rapidly growing.
Wyatt's sucking slows; he's falling asleep. His eyes close, and he releases my nipple, and once again, Mr. Handsome is getting a free show. I am smiling up at his face, because he is much taller than I. I know what he wants. "Would you care for some milk?"
"Wha...? Oh, um..."
I rise to put Wyatt back in his stroller, leaving my bare breast exposed. After all, he's already seen it. I reach into an insulated diaper bag, and remove a glass jar of my chilled breast milk and hand it to him. I then remove a jar of cream from another compartment.
Mr. H. looks at the milk jar. "Is this...yours?"
"It is. Have you ever had breast milk?"
"I've not...that is, not in my memory." Mr. H. unscrews the cap.
"It's much healthier than cow's milk", I inform him. "Most people are allergic to cow's milk and don't realize it."
"So I've heard", says Mr. H., as he sips the milk. "It's sweet."
"Do you mind if I apply nipple cream?"
Mr. H. nearly chokes on his milk. "No! No, not at all." Poor man looks as if his head might explode. He is no doubt thinking, "Dear Penthouse Forum: I never thought this could happen to me...." He watches intently as I very slowly rub cream on my left nipple, all the while looking at his face.
When I finish, I slowly replace my bikini top and introduce myself. "I'm Dixie," I say, holding out my hand.
Mr. H. grasps my hand and shakes it, causing my breasts to jiggle a bit. He swallows. "Ian," he says.
"Ian....do you come here daily?"
"No, but perhaps I should. Do you?"
"Weather permitting," I reply. I pause. "You like to watch; don't you, Ian?"
Ian blushes, but nods. "Yes", he admits softly.
"It's OK; I know," patting his hand. "You can come here tomorrow and watch again, if you like."
Ian looks me directly in the eyes, his jaw flexing. "I'd like that very much," says he.
Mr. Handsome Steps it up a Notch Part II of the Mr. Handsome Saga
Me and Mr. Handsome....we got a thing goin' on. We both know that it's wrong....
He comes to that park often to watch me....nearly every day. Now, the summer has passed, and children have returned to school. Ian shows up as usual while I am feeding Wyatt on the same bench.
This time, he walks up behind me and leans down to whisper in my ear, pretending to look at something I'm reading. "You know you are a naughty girl; don't you", he whispers in that cute London accent he has. I can smell his aftershave again. I must remember to ask him the name of it. "You know you are driving me slowly into madness. Well, my frustration has reached the breaking point, my love. I'm no longer satisfied with merely watching you. I want more. I want to taste the sweet nectar of the Gods...and not from a glass bottle. I want it warm and sweet, and flowing from your beautiful breasts. I want to consume it; I want it nourishing me; I want to feast upon its sweet perfection."
This sent a thrill through my belly, and made me shift in my seat. I pretended indifference for the benefit of any onlookers, but I was affected. I kept my eyes riveted to the catalog I'd been perusing, all the while wondering when this formerly shy man had become so bold.
But Ian persisted. "It isn't fair, what you do to me, coming here and exposing those beauties....teasing me as you do...you take delight in it; I'm sure. You don't have a care for the torment you inflict on a bloke; do you?" He leaned closer. Now, I can feel his warm breath on my ear as he whispers, "Have pity on my poor heart, love. Would you have me break my poor heart by denying me a long drink of your sweet nectar?"
I continued my perusal of my catalog. "Are you sure it's your HEART you're speaking of, Ian?"
His mouth, now so close to my face, morphs into a smirk. "My heart...my loins...my body, my soul....all want you passionately, no mistake."
"Ian...apart from our first names, we really know nothing of each other."
"Kensington", he quickly replies. "The name's Kensington."
"Oh, why didn't you say so? Now we know everything we need to know", I quipped.
He smiled, and I saw dimples and perfect teeth. God, but he is cute. He possessed the kind of boyish good looks that never fail to attract me. This man would eventually seduce me; there was nothing for it. "What else would you like to know about me? My life is an open book to you", he declared.
"Ian, that's hardly the point", I sighed. Barely turning my head in his direction, I emphatically said, "We have to establish some ground rules, you and I. First of all, there will be no 'shagging.'"
He pouted a moment, but then insisted, "I've not asked you to shag. I only want to worship your magnificent bosom....to lose myself in that valley between those soft, feminine mounds...but most importantly...to suck the sweetness from those rosy, sexy great nipples of yours", he breathed.
"And you'll be content with only that?"
"Well...I must", he pouted. "I must content myself in the knowledge that at least I had the chance to enjoy those delectable gems...at least once...then I may die a happy man."
"Oh, so now my nipples are on your bucket list? Very well, I'm free tomorrow. I won't have Wyatt; he'll be with his mom. I could meet you here, but...there's one more ground rule we must establish."
He arched a questioning brow.
"I will not come alone. There will be another person...a male person...watching from a safe distance", I informed him.
Ian frowned. "Are we selling tickets? Oh wait, I believe I understand. You don't trust me." He looked thoughtful. "You're afraid I might harm you. Of course, I wouldn't dream of harming a hair on your pretty head...but I quite understand. You don't yet know me well enough, and you can't be too careful. No, you're a sensible girl. It's fine. You may bring your bodyguard, if that is the only way I may enjoy your charms, love."
I smiled. "Then, are you available tomorrow morning at 10:00? The park will be mostly empty at that hour on a weekday, and we can go into that wooded area over there. Will that be satisfactory?"
Ian beamed one of his heart-stopping smiles, the kind that make all my clothes want to fall off. "I will think of nothing else until then, kitten."
It was 9:50 when my male cousin entered the woods on the west side of the park to take up his surveillance position. I didn't have to twist his arm. He knew he'd be getting ringside seats to a really memorable show, so he was happy to oblige. He carried with him his favorite bird watching binoculars.
I began my slow walk onto the jogging path just off the edge of the park. I was nervous. I was also excited in every way a woman can be. There he was in the distance, waiting for me. He was wearing jeans under some sort of longish dark coat. He looked so impossibly handsome. There should be a law against looking that devastatingly handsome. It just isn't fair; he has all the advantage.
He turned when he heard my approach, and smiled at me. I was nervous, but that smile made me want to swoon and just melt into a big puddle. I carefully wore a dark plum sweater dress that zipped...and Unzipped down the front for easy access to "my charms." It was early October, and there was already a chill in the air.
"Hello, love", he said, and held out his hand. I placed mine in it, and he raised it to his lips, planting a kiss on top of it. This far exceeded my chivalry threshold; I felt my knees grow weak. Then, wrapping my hand in his much larger one, he led me onward along the wooded path to one of the benches that lined it. He sat and unbuttoned his coat, while I unzipped my cozy sweater dress and opened my front-hook bra, exposing my milk-engorged breasts to the chilly air. I let Ian have a good look at them before sitting on his lap and straddling him.
He carefully took both my swollen breasts in his hands and tested their weight. His eyes shone in a way that reminded me of a boy on Christmas morning, examining his new train or pellet gun. "Magnificent", he declared. "These have got to be the sexiest nipples I've seen in my entire life. I can't believe how large and pink and beautifully shaped they are."
"Would you be gentle with me? They're so sore today; I don't know why."
He arched a brow. "Don't you? I've seen young Wyatt treating your poor nipples like his own personal chew toys. The boy has no appreciation for their delicate beauty."
I laughed at this. "They're not so delicate; they actually take a great deal of abuse."
Ian gently lifted my left breast, slightly squeezing it as he did so. A rivulet of milk dripped down the large nipple and onto his hand. A wave of heat shot through my belly as he licked it off.
He looked up at me, and I noticed his beautiful blue/green eyes which were shining with passion. He looked so serious as he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. His lips were so warm, and he whispered, his mouth still pressed lightly against mine, "I hope you know I could never hurt you. You do know it, don't you?" I nodded. "I'm so grateful to you for trusting me...for letting me do this...you may be assured, I will be gentle as a lamb, my love."
I was the one who had to guard MY poor heart. I could easily fall in love with this man, and that probably wouldn't do at all. Likely every woman he met fell hopelessly in love with him I thought, as his warm mouth closed over my left nipple and began gently sucking, sending a rush of liquid heat between my legs.
My arms were around his neck, and my hands in his beautiful thick, sandy-blonde hair, urging him closer to me. I looked down at his lips, which were wrapped around my nipple and sucking gently. Ian was clean-shaven, but a persistent shadow of stubble usually graced the bottom half of his chiseled face, and I could feel it rubbing the soft skin of my breast as he sucked. I could see his throat move as he swallowed. I could feel his breath on my skin, and the gentle suckling drove me wild and made me as wet as I had ever been. My hips instinctively began moving, and I felt his hardness pressed against me, only 3 layers of fabric separating us. I tilted my head back and sighed. I saw blue sky above me; the leaves on the maple trees had turned gold, orange and red. I smelled someone's fireplace burning.
He alternately sucked and licked each breast, then finally, both of them together. This made the milk flow faster, and some of it ran down his chin. I could feel the gentle tugging, the liquid being drawn through my nipples, and the sexual thrill was mingled with relief, as he emptied my formerly engorged breasts. It turned me on to see how he enjoyed what he was doing, and I couldn't have asked a man to be more gentle or skilled.
I could have happily remained there for hours, days even, with my nipples in his mouth. I never wanted to remove them. I don't know how long we were there like this, before he reached between us and I felt the tip of his finger rubbing so incredibly gently between my legs....in exactly the right place. I didn't have to tell him where....didn't have to explain or guide him. He just knew. I threw my head back, moaning and sighing. I was in heaven. One of my nipples was in his mouth, his tongue moving back and forth over it, and his finger tickling my very special place.
I don't know why I thought of it at this moment, but I suddenly remembered that my cousin was watching all of this. He saw this very intimate act, saw everything that Ian did to me, and saw how I reacted. I wondered what he must have been thinking.
I felt myself blushing, but I did not want this to stop. This man knew exactly what I wanted and how I wanted it. He was magic. He knew I didn't want him to insert his finger, only to gently tickle my special place, and only that place. He knew not to stop suckling me while he did this. It was as if he knew me and all of my sexual fantasies without any communication from me. I privately wondered what it would be like if he decided to replace his finger with his tongue. But that would not happen today, not here.
I tousled his hair while my arms encircled his head, my hips gyrating. Finally he let go my nipple, and I kissed him deeply. God Almighty, could that man kiss. He kissed me senseless. His lips were still warm, and now tasted faintly of my milk. He kissed my neck, my belly, and then returned his attention to my breasts.
I'd promised myself this encounter would not end in intercourse. I wanted to wait until we got to know each other better. At this point, I was sorely tempted to break my promise to myself. I knew, if I kept this up, I'd only become hopelessly aroused, but never satiated, and I knew poor Ian was frustrated by the rock-hard bulge poking me in the thigh. So, I decided to give him something special.
I shifted my weight, so I could reach down and fondle his hardness. I heard him inhale sharply. I unzipped his pants and began fondling and stroking his naked penis, which by this time, was very large, very hard and almost throbbing. It was a pity I had to waste it by not inviting him to penetrate me, but I could, at least, give him some relief by finishing him off with my very talented right hand, I reasoned.
It didn't take long for Ian to succumb to my skillful ministrations. The poor man was already so excited by all that had happened between us, that in no time he exploded into a very hard, very satisfying climax. I watched as the musculature of his neck flexed, his jaw clenched, and he grunted and growled through these final spasms of pleasure.
I smiled at him, and it made him self-conscious. "Are you laughing at me, minx?"
"You have a milk mustache", I informed him, gesturing to my own lips.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; his breathing was still rather labored. He took my face in his hands and kissed me gently on the lips, then the cheek. He smelled and felt so good. "Where did you learn to do that, you naughty....(kissing my neck).....lusty....(kissing my face)....vixen?
I kissed his lips before answering, "I'll take the 5th on that one, Mr. Kensington." He looked at me quizzically. "The 5th.....Amendment", I said.
"Oh, isn't that the bit about self-incrimination and such?"
"It is", said I. "You should read it; it's good stuff."
I stood and allowed Ian to put his clothing to rights, as I did my own. He then took my hand in his and placed a kiss on my knuckles. "You know, that chivalry business really turns me on. I've never met a man who does that. I fear it is a lost art, but you seem to have revived it. It can be very disarming."
He smiled. "That's the idea, kitten." Then he looked serious. "I want to see you again. When may I see you? You must come to my home."