Zara's Nipples for the Women

"Did you do it?" I ask.

"Yes, very hesitantly."

"Excellent customer service," I say.

"Ha, yeah, basically," she replies. "I took my shoes and socks off, while Emmanuelle got butt naked and put her sweaty clothes in her bag. I tried not to stare because I wasn't sure what her intent was. It was very awkward, yet incredibly intense. She walked butt naked into the shower and I followed her. Keep in mind, I was still wearing my work uniform with my bare feet on the wet tiles.

She continues, "Another woman taking a shower, who looked surprised to see me, but I ignored her. My focus was on Emmanuelle, because, you know, customer service. I gazed at her butt, which was marvelous. Then she turned around to face me. That's when I got a full view of her naked figure. My eyes went up and down her sweaty body. She invited me to look. Her nipples were erect.

She continues, "Emmanuelle told me to grab a scrub and start cleaning her. At that gym, hygiene products are free, the high-end stuff. So I grabbed a clean scrub from the wall and applied shower gel, while she stepped into the shower. She didn't even look at me, she faced the wall and let the water clean her sweat. I started with her back. It was my first time cleaning a woman, which was hard for me. But it was really intense. I scrubbed her back, arms, then her butt and thighs. She has a great ass. Fit body.

She continues, "When Emmanuelle turned around, I swear I nearly fainted. Her pink nipples were rock hard and water was flowing down her body. She remained stone faced, but I could tell she enjoyed this sort of personal service. I was dumbfounded, wondering if I should clean her tits while she stared at me."

"And did you?"

"Yeah, after she told me to."

"What did she say?" I ask.

"Emmanuelle said to me, 'If you're brave enough to look, you're brave enough to touch.' Just like that, it was all she said. So I went for it. I scrubbed her breasts and my vagina was soaked from brushing those pretty pink nipples. I went soft at first, then harder. Celebrity nipples. They're the best. Older women, even better.

She continues, "We stopped short of her vagina. She took the scrub and cleaned herself down below. Then I shampooed her hair, which gave me another close-up view of her nipples. After that, she told me to leave. She didn't even thank me. She just said that I was done for the day. So I dried my feet with a towel, put my socks and shoes on, and went back to work."

"How did that affect you?" I ask. "From the sound of the situation, it was a game changing moment for your sexuality."

"Well, after the first time, I finished my work schedule, went home, went straight to the bathroom, and masturbated. Not like regular masturbation. It wasn't the tender, loving kind of touching. No. I finger fucked myself. It was basically like having sex with myself. You see these two fingers? They went deep, in and out."

Zara held up her two fingers, pressed together, to demonstrate what she did with herself. Her emotional walls have come down and she's thriving in this conversation.

"What happened next?" I ask.

"That was my life for most of the summer. Emmanuelle came to the gym four times a week. If she was in a certain mood, she'd summon me to the locker room to help her dress or undress, or to get her things. If I was lucky, she'd call me into the shower for assistance. Same thing, she'd be naked and I'd be barefoot, and I'd scrub her back, then she'd turn around and I'd scrub her breasts.

She continues, "The number of women in the locker room changed depending on the hour. Sometimes the place would be empty. Other times there'd be groups of friends or solo women. Through it all, Emmanuelle never cared, and I respected her for that. It was something I had to get used to. Some women thought it was amusing, others just ignored it. It always made me blush.

She continues, "At one point, when the shower was empty, Emmanuelle asked why I was so obsessed with her nipples. At first I denied it, but she saw through my bullshit. So I admitted it. I confessed that I was a 'female nipples' enthusiast and told her everything. She burst out laughing. I was humiliated. But then she said something that changed my life forever. Emmanuelle said to me, 'If nipples are so important, I wonder what yours look like.' She told me to open my top."

Taking a deep breath, Zara drinks from a cup of water and puts it down. I notice that her hands slightly tremble and she crosses her legs.

"Did you open your top?" I ask.

"Yeah, I did."

"How did that feel?"

"Like an out-of-body experience," she replies. "It was like I was numb. I didn't feel much while I was opening my top. Again, we were alone in the shower area, she was naked and I was barefoot. It was the first time her eyes showed any real interest in me. Sexual interest, I mean. She was looking at me with anticipation.

She continues, "When I unbuttoned my top and lifted my bra, Emmanuelle acted like she saw a real life miracle. Her eyes turned wide and she licked her lips. She said my nipples were a 'Persian gift,' which made me feel proud because she actually meant it. She appreciated what I had to offer, which warmed my heart."

"Were your nipples a source of shame?" I ask.

"Growing up, yeah. It took me a long time to grow comfortable with my nipples. What took me a lifetime to overcome, Emmanuelle could resolve in seconds."

"How so?" I ask.

"Emmanuelle took my right nipple into her mouth. I'll never forget it. She bent her head down and did it without asking. My first time letting a woman suck my nipple, and it's with this respected French actress. A sophisticated, middle-aged white woman swept away all my insecurities with her mouth. I could have fainted right there, but then I would have missed the pleasure.

She continues, "Both of my nipples had the honor of being sucked. The sensation was equal to masturbation and I could have cum on the spot. But she stopped. I think she sensed that I was on the verge of an orgasm, maybe she felt I hadn't earned the right to cum. Fair enough. To get an orgasm from Emmanuelle is a privilege, in my opinion.

She continues, "The privilege came a week later. Emmanuelle told me to get naked and join her in the shower. By the way, there were four other women in the shower also. I think she waited until there were more people because she wanted to test my insecurities. I did it. I got naked and joined her, which was a turning point in my life. Standing naked in front of those women was like an act of defiance, a rebellion against all of the cultural norms and insecurities I had.

She continues, "Everyone stared at me. Before that, I was viewed as the polite, front desk girl who smiled and exchanged pleasantries and small talk. So yeah, they were surprised to see me naked. They loved looking at my nipples, as much as I loved looking at theirs. It seemed like a fair trade.

She continues, "After scrubbing Emmanuelle's back and breasts, she told me to get on my knees. Her crotch was shaved, so it was obvious what she was expecting from me. The other women heard the request and everyone went silent. Through the corners of their eyes, they were watching this happen. It felt like an obstacle that my body and mind wanted to overcome."

"Did you give her oral sex?" I ask.

"Yeah, that's what happened, right there in the open shower. My knees hurt from being pressed on the tile, but I didn't mind. That was my rebellion against the world for all the pleasures I denied myself. I'm still very religious, and I consider myself to be a wholesome person, but I felt like I deserved to enjoy that. I know it's contradictory, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She continues, "There weren't any instructions, Emmanuelle just looked down and expected me to figure it out, as if my instincts would be enough. I did what I felt were the right moves, I licked her labia and clitoris, I even put my tongue inside. I've got to give props to Emmanuelle because she stood upright while it happened and she didn't even make a face when she had an orgasm. I guess that's her training as an actress. Cumming with a straight face.

She continues, "The nectar flowed into my mouth and I swallowed what I could. The rest ran down my chin and onto my breasts, onto the tile. She didn't even thank me. She told me to stand and she rinsed my body underneath the shower. Have you ever gotten a shower from someone? It's an incredibly loving act and I felt her heart's warmth as she cleaned me. Afterwards, the other women could barely look at me. I guess they were mortified on my behalf, but the truth was, a big part of me felt liberated. I'd never felt so free in my life.

She continues, "That was the rest of my job for the summer. Emmanuelle would act cordial whenever she'd enter the gym, especially in front of my boss, but after her workout she'd summon me to the locker room. I'd get naked with her. Then I'd do whatever she requested, a back scrub, body wash, shampoo, pussy eating. Anything.

She continues, "Also, her nipples. Emmanuelle let me suck on them. Heaven is putting her pink nipples in my mouth to worship. As horrible as it sounds to admit this, sucking on a woman's nipples was like a religious experience for me. The shape, the way her nipples and breasts stiffen, what her nipples represent, it meant something special to me."

"That's an interesting statement," I say. "What do her nipples represent to you?"

"Her feminine nature. Her womanhood. I know I'm overthinking things, but that's what it means to me. Sucking on Emmanuelle's nipples meant being in full service to her. It meant giving her intense pleasure, and it satisfied my own secret cravings. Eating her pussy meant the same thing.

She continues, "The favors were returned. Yeah, she ate me out, but only if the shower was empty. She only gave me oral sex if no one was around. I think it was a pride thing. I think she didn't want to be seen on her knees. If there were other women in the shower, I'd be the one getting on my knees, pushing my tongue inside of her pussy, sometimes her asshole, making her cum to finish the gym session.

She continues, "For the first time in my life, I felt complete as a human being. A thriving sexuality was the missing component. It was a new source of happiness. I'm sure my boss knew something was going on, since I'd be freshly showered. But my boss didn't want issues with big clients. Customer service, right?"

The smile on Zara's face signals that we've reached the end. There's a look of immense personal satisfaction on her face, as if she'd completed a monumental task of expressing her inner-most thoughts.

"I think we've got enough for the day," I say. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

Zara thinks for a moment. "Yes, one more thing. Do you mind?"

"Please, continue."

"When college resumed, I was a much different person. I mean, I was still the same girl, but I had a newfound confidence in myself. I registered for a gym class, and afterward I'd be sweaty from the workout, so I'd get naked in the locker room. Then I'd step into the open shower where I could admire the other girls, and where the other girls could admire me. You know, I suddenly became popular after that. Girls that used to ignore me started saying 'hi' to me on campus. All because of the 'Persian gifts,' I have, as Emmanuelle had appropriately named them.

She continues, "I doubt this was the intent of locker room culture in America, but I'm addicted to open showers. I find myself comparing sizes and colors of different nipples. Then comparing my size to theirs. So far I'm the winner. I'd finger-fuck myself in private, thinking of my time with Emmanuelle and hopefully having new experiences someday with other like-minded, big nippled women. No one knows about these thoughts, except for you."

"Thank you for sharing your story," I say in earnest. "Your contribution to this research is greatly appreciated. I'll contact you tomorrow for follow-up questions or clarification."

"Wait, would you like to see what the fuss is about?" she asks in a shy voice.

"Sure, if you'd like."

I turn off the recording device, knowing what Zara has planned. This had been teased from the start of our conversation and now she has the fortitude to explain the origin of her nipple fetish.

She unbuttons her blouse while sitting in the seat. As much as her confidence has grown, she still feels the need to look away. She avoids eye contact with me as her blouse is opened and her white bra is exposed, which I estimate are b-cups.

When she lifts her bra, generously sized black nipples are revealed, the longest and thickest I've ever seen. They protrude from arousal and the dark color of her areolas contrasts her mocha breasts. I understand the roots of her fetish, Zara's nipples were previously a lifelong source of insecurity, and she turned that insecurity into pride.

She pulls her bra down and adjusts the fitting, a blushing smile on her face, revealing the embarrassment of having shown her nipples to someone. When she buttons her blouse, she thanks me for the interview, and I thank her for sharing these intimate gifts.

The End

always remember ~~ you are important

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