Chantal Rose

The house is still and quiet in the early morning.

The sound of gentle falling rain against the glass of the window is what has awakened me. I lay there, slowly coming aware sensing the sound of your rhythmic breathing.

I turn onto my side to face you. Your hair is falling down over your shoulders, a stray wisp lays across your cheek. Your muted breath escapes through soft pink, slightly parted lips. You're lying on your side and your faced is brushed with the rain soaked early morning light that comes in through the window.

Your nightgown hugs your body close. I can see the outline of your ripe full breasts. As you breath, your breast's move, brushing your nipples against the soft cotton. A darker mauve colour is apparent through the thin cotton accentuated by the swollen mound of your puffy areola and its long nipple.

Turning on my side, I watch your sleeping face... your so beautiful.

Reaching out with one hand, I undo the top button of your nightie...

and the next...

and the next...

and then I lift the edges of the open nightie, framing your breasts.

They have a newfound fullness. Lush, round globes. Normally they have pink soft nubs but this morning, your nipples are fuller and longer than usual with an incredible darker red colour that contrasts with your skin.

My fingertip traces over your soft skin, over the pale freckles and then down the valley between your breasts.

I can feel your warmth on my skin. I turn my palm up and hold your breast in my hand.

It's heavy and full.

"Coeur doux bonjour", and I look upwards to your face to see that your now awake. Keeping my hand on your breast, "Tête somnolente bonjour " as I lean in to kiss you on the lips, a soft lingering kiss. Drawing back, I look into your eyes. Green with just a hint of the usual hazel overtones. Nose to nose. My hand leaves your breast, brushes the stray wisp of hair from your cheek to behind your ear, traces down along the edge of your ear, lingers on your earlobe. Then I trace along the side of your neck, over your soft skin, along the top of the shoulder, back to the base of your throat. Downward, back between your breasts to trace along the crease on its underside, up the far side, over the top. Lazy circle around, over the tight skin, and your nipple darkens even deeper red in anticipation. I close in on the distended circle of your areola, trace over the first row of tiny bumps that are at the beginning of the darker circle. I can see your eyes start to close as you focus on where my finger is tracing. I can hear your breathing change with soft moans residing deeper in your throat.

I duck my head so your nipple is before my eyes. The darker areola is distended and almost dark mauve. Your nipple is long and hard and plump and I circle around the edges of your areola with the hard tip of my tongue I notice the first tiny drops of milk.

They rest on my tongue.

I taste your milk.

I want...more.

The engorged warm nipple slips between my lips and your hand cradles the back of my head holding me to your breast and I suck gently. Hard to believe but your nipple swells even more between my lips and you pull me closer so your nipple enters deeper into my mouth and I start to suckle you. I'm rewarded with more drops of your sweet milk.

Past my lips, over my tongue.....drinking you.

All I can hear is your breath, soft moans in your throat, my soft sucking sounds as I nurse. Your hand reaches up to your breast, brushes my lips, squeezes just below the base of your areola. Warm, sweet milk sprays over my tongue.

The taste is sweet and delicate.

Your other hand cups the soft smooth mound of your pussy, finds the lips, pink, warm and damp and you tease them apart, slip between them. You alternately pump your breast into my face, thrusting your fingers into yourself. The tempo suddenly quickens and you cum, arching your back, calling out loudly and your body trembles with your release.

Soft "mmm's" escape your parted lips and you take your wet fingers from between your lips and I pull back from your engorged nipple so you can trace around your darken areola, your softening nipple with wet finger tips.

I bend forward, retake your nipple in my lips and savour the two sweetest flavours.

The two flavours of my Chantal Rose.