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96, 97, 98, 99 100 strokes. Her hair glistened in the soft glow of the star field night light that twinkled on the walls and ceiling.
“Sing me a lullabye daddy, please” she said sleepily.
“Lullabye, and good night, with roses….” I finished the last stanza of Brahms bed time classic as I rubbed my daughter’s back. Hearing the deep rhythm of her breathing, I pulled the covers up close to her chin, kissed her on the cheek, whispering “I Love You princess” and quietly slipped out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind me.
I enterd my bedroom to find my wife cradling our son like a football across a pillow. I mouthed the words, “I he finished?” My wife nodded and I approached the side of the bed as she inserted her pinkie beside his lips to break the latch, her nipple sliding out of his sleeping mouth. I gently carried him over to the bassinette, and lay him between the bumpers, carefull not to place him on his back, and covered him with the blanket.
As I turned around, I saw that my wife had not covered up her breasts.
“He may have finished”, she said, “but I haven’t. Are you thirsty?”
Quietly nodding, I moved to my side of the bed, stripping of my t-shirt and lounge pants, I law down across the bed, with my head in her lap. She placed her right nipple in my mouth and I pulled it in with my lips around her areola. Pressing her nipple against the roof of my mouth with the back of my tongue, I began to suckle.
As te warm sweet milk, creamy being from the latter stages of the session, I could taste the mangos and strawberies she had had for breaksfast that morning.
As I gently pulled her milk from her right breast, I carressed her left, lightly rolling her nipple against my palm, and softly squeezing her breast to make drops appear and fall onto my bare chest.
As the last few drops of milk expressed from her right breast, I shifted my body and began suckling on the left breast, pulling the milk of life she so lovingly dispensed into my hungry mouth. Iwas never so glad I had skipped dessert tonight, as this was so much better.
As I nursed, my wife gently carressed my hair, softly kissing my forehead and rubbing her hands across my chest and shoulders.
When I had finished the left breast, and was sleepy from the warm milk, I broke my latch and slowly sat up. She turned around and swung her legs over the side of the bed, as I turned around and wrapped my legs either side of her hips.
“You’ve given me something special tonight, now it’s my turn to give to you.” I said softly in here ear.
Her auburn hair shone in the soft light of our bedside lamps, and the silver highlghts glistened. I grabbed the brush from the head board, and began to stroke, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…..Aww that’s a really sweet take on something we often hear far too little about from men in the adult breastfeeding community, the gentle, affectionate and nurturing side.
I have no doubt that there are just as many men who appreciate this side of it as women who do, but it’s refreshing to hear it from a man. Real men are not afraid to show their softer side 💪🤣
Thankyou for sharing, Linden.
What a beautiful story and told so well. I felt like I was there. Lovely
Another semi-true story.
The lights were low, and the decorations twinkled as we swung and spun in our imperfect rendition of swing dancing. The music was jazzy and brassy and a little too loud, but we were having a marvelous time. The drinks and salads arrived, and then more dancing. Dinner and wine next, followed by more dancing. We were working off the calories as fast as we put them on. Big Band music, Swing, Jazz and a bevy of Zoot Suiters wove in and around us. My tuxedo shimmered and her dress swirled and flared. Desert came, and then Champagne. The last song was slow, the lights even lower and then with a new bottle of champagne in hand, we stumbled to the elevator, kissing, giggling and laughing.
As the elevator rose from the dance hall, it stopped at the lobbu, and an older couple entered. We tried to suppress our carnal actions and look respectable. To our delight, the gentleman grabbed his bejeweled gray-haired matron and swooped down for a kiss of his own. Winking at me, he said to no one in particular, “This era has nothing on the ’40’s.” When we got off on the 6th floor, we heard the two elderly “teenagers” laugh, and giggle in their own right as the doors closed.
We made our way to our hotel room, and once inside began to disrobe. My tux was a rental, so no movie style rending of clothes here, but with one zip and a swoosh, her dress hit the floor. She sat on the corner of the bed and began to take down her hair. I came in behind and I kissed her neck as she brushed out her hair. As reach around her waist in a gentle hug and pulled my arm back when I felt wetness.
We had left our son with my parents so we could celebrate her birthday in style, but mother nature hadn’t given us a pass. This was way past his normal feeding time, and her milk had let down at my caress. She was dripping all over the place.
“Would you mind helping a girl out please?” she asked. I pulled away from where she was sitting and she lay down across the corner of the king sized bed. I lay down alongside her with my mouth near her right breast. I took her areola in my mouth and began to gently press her nipple against the roof of my mouth, suckling and drawing her milk into me. I stirred.As I continued to relieve the pent-up pressure of her engorged right breast, she said, “It feels like you are enjoying yourself, but could use some relief of your own”. I could only moan. Breaking the latch with her pinkie, she stood up and began arranging the pillows against the headboard. Guiding me to the top of the bed, she had me prop up against the back and she straddled me, Placing her left breast in my mouth, and encouraging me to suckle there, she began to slowly, rhythmically rock over me.
We moved in sync, swaying and rocking. She brushed my hair with her fingers and lightly kissed my forehead. I twirled her right nipple in between my fingers and rubbed my palm across it gently. She held her left breast with her hand, keeping it in my mouth as I rubbed up and down between the small of her back and her bum. After a little while, she picked up her pace and the rocking became more frantic. Deep inside of her, I felt my own stirring and as I drank the last of her milk, exploded. She too climaxed and slumped onto my shoulders as I hugged her tight to me.
Finally, we lay down, spent, tired satisfied and at least I was very full. As we drifted off to a satiated sleep, she whispered in my ear. “I hope you’ll be hungry for your breakfast. As for me, I want room service.”
Oh wow, you’re a great writer! This is the kind of fantasy we can all relate to I think. It doesn’t need to be anything out of this world to be amazing. Once you’ve experienced this kind of mutual satisfaction and deep connection, I don’t know how anyone can settle for anything less. I look forward to reading more of your stories if you feel inclined to share.
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