Yes, Baby - Our First Breastfeeding

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Tori meets a sweet boy who makes her shiver.
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Tori Dylan
Tori Dylan
32 Followers

"There's no more time for us to waste; You feel your heart begin to race..." SHIVER - Maroon 5

Adam,

Your post seemed innocent enough. Well, as innocent as a personal ad could be:

Nurturing Touch Needed

26 year old athletic male wanting to spend some alone time with a pair of nurturing breasts.

I am a nurturing person by nature. My breasts have been untouched for months, almost a year now. I miss being touch and touching. Marriage is hard even when it's good...my marriage has been bad for years. I guess being in a dead marriage for so long, and being a bit "unsober" made me feel a little brave. I felt connected because it was like you were looking for me, a woman with a "Nurturing Touch."

I am not the girl I was when I got married.

I love the attention I get now since I no longer dress like the wife of a preacher. Correction, I no longer dress like the good and pure wife of a cheating and neglectful preacher.

But to cross the line, to have another man's mouth on my breasts, technically adultery. I am supposed to stay pure until some other rule is fulfill - from Exodus, I think. I did not know if I was ready to cross that line. But as you know now, I wasn't strong enough to hold on to that particular thought. I was so tired of being alone. And the song "Come Over" had just came on.

I did not get to tell you that, for the past weeks, I became fascinated with ANR videos. Watching a man lay beside his lover, lost in the sensation of breast play and suckling. I wanted that for myself. I wanted you even before I even started reading the personal advertisements. I sat at my desk, stood in the shower, even lay in bed before my alarm, gently massaging my chocolate brown areolas. I spent time in a reverie stroking the caramel brown skin of my breasts; pinching and rolling my nipples until the familiar rush of near-release made my body feel so warm and complete. I wanted my mommy milk to be ready.

My first response to your post was simple, a picture of "the girls" in a fitted night shirt and a short note "I love to be touch." You responded with a clever, "Where?"

We chatted online until late in the night. We began texting, or sexting, the next day. Nearly a week of flirting, and "rule setting," between attempts to schedule a time to see each other face to face. You were patient enough to deal with my indecisiveness, and my list of rules. Perhaps that is what you do Adam, you make too things easy for people.

But I don't do easy. "Maybe" was my reply. It was the 2nd time you asked to meet up Friday and it was already Thursday night. Why did I answer your post if I didn't want to meet?

Adam, I did everything to dissect what you wanted to happen if we met. I re-phrased what you said in 3 different ways to see if you'd get frustrated or, at least, call me on my stalling technique. But you didn't, "OK, let me know tomorrow morning." You made it simple.

Hours past. It was close to midnight. After my shower, I sat on my bed and urged a few drops from each breast. I pressed record on my phone to show the thin milky dew rolling in a tiny trickle down from my nipple and over my hand. Seeing the milk made my precious pink become warm, I ached for a firm touch. I considered not touching myself. But I knew if I didn't release the tension, I would not keep my self-promise to stay "pure" with you. I was still wet from the shower when I texted you again that night. Damp fingers slightly trembling, I attached the video and sent a note, "Ok, Adam, see you there at 8."

Even after my fingers were sticky and a light mist of orgasmic sweat covered my body, I couldn't get to sleep. Friday seemed a lifetime away.

One more confession Adam: I was late to the bar not just because of traffic. I called my friend Dailia on my way home from work Friday. I wanted to confess what I was about to do, but I could not let those words have sound. I could not tell her about you.

She has been there through the bad of my marriage. She knew my sadness about the sexual silence in my marital bed. She could tell I seemed happier, but I just could not tell about you.

Adam, you made me hopeful. There was something about your voice that made me trust you. What you said, how you said it. Your gentle southern lilt with that deep male resonance made my body tingle. I did not realize how broken I was until we laid in bed, silent. How your voice filled that broken space. I did not recognize you were broken in the same way too. We connected in ways beyond skin on skin. Funny how I miss someone I barely know. That is the baggage of hope.

By the time I got to the bar, I was so unprepared to feel so comfortable with you. I hoped I would at least recognize you from your pictures and not embarrass myself. You sat with your back to the entry, so I had to find you. It was easy, I recognized you because you were the only one I wanted to see.

Our conversation, even the silence, was simple. It wasn't superficial. It was easy. There was no need to fill spaces with useless words. I know at times I made you laugh, my nervousness made me chatty, and bolder somehow. Your smile was as disarming as the stories you shared. I was giddy about our connection - to who you are. Or at least the part you allowed me to know. All of my half-truths melted away. I even told you about this, my stories, my pseudonym, my secret place to hide my passion and desires. Bonding too quickly I suppose, a newbie error of hope. I wrote this because I can't shake the feeling we are not finished - I still have hope.

Until it fades,

Tori

"Hypnotized by the words you say..." SHIVER-Maroon 5

"Are you ok to drive?" Adam asked, noticed Tori worked a little too hard to step down onto the street from the curb. "I am a little buzzed; I should have stopped at one," Tori giggled, taking the hand he offered. Not knowing which car was hers, it was only natural that he walk her in the direction she was heading. The amber parking lot lights highlighted the bounce of her large brown breasts. The deep V neckline of her dress was barely covered by her pashmina, so the sway of her chest was completely visible, completely hypnotic. He found it easy to follow her rhythm as she was nearly a foot shorter than he. They were almost to the other side of the lot before he realized she wasn't really leading him anywhere.

"Tori!" Adam voice deep and sharp, but his smile soften the blow, "do you know where you parked?" She looked up at him and around the lot with glassy eyes, smiled and shook her head, "Nope, Haha!"

Looking up again, this time she met his sky blue eyes, "I thought I would go home with you."

"You did, hmm?" His eyes flashed open wide then recovered. She nodded, "Yes, baby."

He opened the condo door for her. The short ride from the bar where they met was almost innocent. Except for the issue of the personal ad, it was like two friends catching up. His mom wanted to see him again before he had to leave for Tennessee. 5 weeks. His out-of-town obligations were pressing. Adam's time with Tori was limited to a few weeks, maybe days, to establish the roles within the boundaries - to enjoy the intimacy of adult nursing and to get those full round DDs producing more milk than the few drops Tori videoed for him last night.

Tori's head was swimming. Not so much from the alcohol, but because there were so many desires crashing in on her at once now that she was in his space. Breast play always made her horny and sometimes, with enough build, could make her cum. No expectations, she chided herself, just enjoy the connection. The chatting lulled as she held the beer he gave her with both hands.

Taking a seat beside her on the sofa, Adam looked at her with deference, "may I touch you?"

"Yes, baby...please do."

His fingers swept under the neckline of her dress and bra in one move. His large hand still smaller than the melon size breasts that he brought out of confinement. "My breasts are so heavy; I haven't nursed in a long time," Tori said as Adam laid his head on her lap. She wanted to please him, to fill his mouth with her milk.

His soft mouth made a ring around the sensitive halo of skin around the puffy nub. His eyes looked to hers with the question of approval, like a child waiting for a permissive word, "Yes," she said, her left hand cradled him as her right begin to touch her face. The contrast of his white skin against her brown body made her shiver. Sexual tension began to build between her thighs by the time he took his first long milk kiss.

His pink lips pulled the swollen boob deep into his mouth while his tongue undulated beneath it. Hearing the satisfied sighs from his sweet face gave Tori such a sense of delicious desire for bonding with him. In that moment, she was marked for Adam's touch alone. Her eyes closed and a contented moan escaped her body as her cradling hand stroked his hair.

"I want your milk mommy."

4 beats of silence.

"Yes, baby - drink mommy's milk, it makes me happy and warm inside."

The words fell out before she could catch them despite the pause. There it was, the words were said aloud, mommy, son, desire and nurture - this bond was thick with promise.

Adam smiled, his lips still holding fast to the large tit. His eyes caught her gaze and then closed again, suckling with the intensity of a hungry boy who had been denied touch too long.

"Do you like mommy's milk," Tori owned the role.

"Yes ma'am," Adam's soft reply.

It was so simple - this new space - mommy and baby boy roles. Woman and man. Pleasure.

Her sweet baby's hands explored her body. Strength of a man with the eagerness of a child, the duality of the passion confused and inspired her.

"I want to make my baby boy happy," Tori said, looking at the bliss on his face. Her sweet boy nodded and drank.

Tori touched him everywhere should could reach his bare skin. Her fingers traced down his arm and over his shoulder, she wanted to learn his every angle. Time was fleeting. She closed her eyes to focus her senses - waking only to find his mouth moving towards her own. His kissed tenderly, like the first one he placed on her filled mommy's nipple. Warm and soft, Tori kissed her little man and knew that he wanted to please her too.

The hunger became empowering.

His arm, first curled around her waist during nursing, now pulled her head towards him into the kiss. His need was to be her baby and her man. To be needed and care for; to be less lonely. Adam wanted these moments to shadow over the real world drama that broke his sleep. He needed peace from the brokenness he felt awaiting him at the end of the 5 weeks, and just across the Tennessee border. What he wanted, he would have, at least for tonight. It was the reason he made the post.

Good mommies never deny their sons what is needed; but great mommies know the difference between needs and wants.

Tori was a good new mommy.

She cradled his head and let him rest between the two full mounds. The once DDs breasts were clearly fuller and heavier than any DDs he felt. The milk was mild and came in little bursts. Tori promised to pump for her baby boy so he would be better fed next time. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed.

Tori felt his tongue trace along the taut skin around the elongated pap. The warmth of wetness in her most sensitive place startled her. The wave of the first orgasm took her breath away for a moment. There it was. The reason she replied, the primary reason she said yes to meeting him. The memory of the sweet response to breastfeeding drew her to ANR posts and porn. This release of passion entangled with nurture and milk, Tori was coming even before his hand found its way to her clitoris.

This delectable blend of pleasure - orgasm and caring - it was his alone to give. And he did, over and again. One hand fondling her breast, his mouth intently milking her while the hand was now under the skirt of her dress. His fingertips pulsed into the folds of her labia, just outside her panties.

"What are you doing to me" she moaned, her legs quivered as she braced to for another rhythmic vibration to shake her her as her vagina began another series of sensational spasms.

"Do I make you happy mommy, am I a good boy?"

"Yes baby, you are a very good boy."

"Thank you mommy."

The words, the role was very simple to slip into - like they have been here before and would be again. His passion, his words, even the rise of fall of his still-clothed erection were a part of the world he created for them. Her mind could not recall why she wanted to say "no," but the word remained on the tip of her tongue like a memory. The memory even became powerful enough, at times, to control his wandering hands. She tried her best to be the mother he needed; in spite of what every part of her body now wanted.

There was be no denying her newness, "may I touch you baby?" A good mother at least asks, she thought.

"Yes mommy."

Her hand reached towards his swollen head. As she traced her fingers around the flesh of her big boy, his suckling and hands became frenzied. The passion, this rise of desire, was so very intense. Her mind was already trying to justify how much she needed to feel him connected to her, in every way. Her justifications found the crack in her resolve, "Do you have a condom?"

Her words revealed her wicked thoughts. Tori failed her purity vow. Failed so soon and so easily. She trusted him beyond reason. She hadn't "dated" someone new since in 12 years, some of it was so unfamiliar. Some of it was completely instinct. All of these were facts for which neither of them prepared.

Tori's hands found the heat of his flesh behind the long metal zipper. Her knowledgeable touch made a throbbing sensation radiate from the smooth thick glans, down to the full sac below and up the length of his spine. Adam's ache to cum intensified. Tori's fingers drew spirals down his shaft with the clear stream of wetness the came from within him. Her soft wet palm stroked easily up and down of his cock. Her long fingers barely contained his girth, skin rolling over and down the sensitive rim of the reddened fleshy crown. This time, she made him shiver. The twinge of release threatened to spray his sperm over her body. He was in the moment, lying beside her and drinking milk from his brown mommy. He barely heard her gentle words - permission to mark her panties with his semen.

Tori, Mommy, wanted to be everything he needed. She wanted to be good for him and not break her own heart along the way. So when he asked again, "should we move to the bed?" Again she repeated the "no."

If she could get her baby to cum, she thought, they could be safe from the growing desire to taste him. The sweet male scent he left on her fingers intoxicated her. She imagined her thick lips covering his swollen staff. Eyes closed, lost in a momentary daydream, she realized her resolve was all gone. Perhaps, if she could get him to free the ache that caused his skin flush hot, she could snap out of this fantasy - to feel his bare cock swell and throb inside her. Now she could smell him everywhere her hands had been.

Her mouth pressed against his, her tongue seeking his own. Her mind began to imagine she was tasting his salty sweet cock. A soft "damn" left her mouth; she wanted to be with him, he was her someone else. She had used her last "no" to push that thought from her head. When he asked her again, if she wanted to move to the bed, all she had left was a "yes."

HURT .... NIN/Johnny Cash

....Upon my liar's chair

Full of broken thoughts

I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time

The feelings disappear

You are someone else

I am still right here

Someone else. Someone else's sweet baby laid before her - his body ready to receive Tori's attention. She walked to him. He was still all she could see - his face, smooth and manly with soft blue eyes and pink lips that curled a little to betray his thoughts; his long muscular form and his thick staff. He waited for her touch. Her hands and kisses covered him. Her warmth made the blood engorge his shaft. Her breasts moved over his chest, droplets of milk cooling his skin. He brought the swinging orbs closer his hungry face; Adam's hands seizing the sway to place the warm pacifier back to his mouth, where he needed her most.

She was undone.

Her flurry of words became a jumbled mess, like a small town after a storm. The powerful force, this storm, its only intention was to release the tense energy that built in the atmosphere over the week, days, hours, moments. Her hips moved closer. She rained down words "I'm sorry, I am so sorry" as she placed herself over him. Her head at his neck, kisses and apologies again. Tori's hips now over his, "I am so sorry Adam." She was apologizing for something she could not have known for certain, but it was heavy in the room. It was undeniable and unpleasant. It was the tension the between want and need, connection and regret, together and alone. They both were trying forget "it" in the arms of a compassionate stranger.

She had the power to stop herself; she did not want to stop. "I am sorry." They were the right words to say, because of the bond, because of the trust that was there that she betrayed. For Adam, for Tori, for the roles they played and the husband and the wife outside the walls, all of the unspoken truths in and out of the bed, they all needed apology.

All of that was not strong enough to stop the descent. Her pink clit shivered on its own in anticipation. The slope and size of his wide cock set off another quake inside her as she slowly lowered down to take him in completely. Her body responded to him with waves of muscles rippling against his hot flesh. Tori's round hips rocked and spiraled like a dance as her moans became ecstatic cries. His hand quieted her whimpers. Her hips circled as his mouth latched on to her swinging breast. Again, she came. Looking at him, his eyes fixed and a little far away, she pressed to forget that she cross the line she said, just yesterday, just minutes ago, they could not cross. New mommy blues would have to wait. Now fully committed to pleasing him; she could not stop until her baby boy was satisfied. She had to bring him back from whatever thought captured his attention.

Adam could not release the burden so easily. His mind and body were in battle. While his hands and cock worked as one; his thoughts and vision threaten to steal the moments of "less lonely" she offered. She was on top of him; making him feel sensations that were meant for someone else. He could not deny his body's response to her touch, to her moves. And when his memories and broken hope were quiet, he did not want to leave these moments of connection.

"May I cum, inside?"

"Yes, baby."

The ripples of his orgasm started slow and from the center of his core as her pink wetness hugged and pulled him in deeper. Tori's fingers pressed just below the space of his seed, making a rocking pressure that increased his spasms into it swelled into waves that rolled over and back and again. The uncontrollable spray of semen set off another shiver from inside her as they shared a few throes together in the end.

The room was silent except for their breathing.

---We don't have to fix each other----

Come Over, Kenny Chesney

Adam,

I heard that song today and I thought of you. That line, "We don't have to fix each other, come over." My bedtime stories are always based on songs to which I connect. Songs that inspire a memory, a fantasy, a daydream to take on a new life and live as a Literotica story.

You asked me if I'd write about this fantasy of you someday. Remember what I told you, if I do write it down, I threaten to lose the dream. It is why all of my stories are mostly fiction.

This one is different. I don't know sweetie, this story seems unfinished to me.

Tori Dylan
Tori Dylan
32 Followers
12