ANR and the Sultry

[Kevin]

You never know who you’re going to hear from. Like those times when you run into someone from elementary school, who you haven’t seen since the third grade, but you swear, you know, and it’s them.
Well, today, it’s not quite that but close.
A wonderful woman from a kik group that I was a part of, before covid, that was dedicated to ANR, read one of my memories on a writing site that I like to contribute to. Because I link my fet profile name to that site. she knew how to contact me. Of course that’s no accident. I do it on purpose.
She thought it’d be fun to have our experiences written about, then, see how I remembered it. So I asked if I could write about out longest session. The was thinking the same thing…

She was very sultry. She loved the softer side of intimacy in every way. Her reasons for being in the kik group, we’re more for pain relief and relaxation. You see, she’s a size 36F. Or she was. After covid killed everything, including the kik group, she had reduction surgery, and reports that her back pain has diminished significantly. But she certainly misses the relaxation of ANR.
I have to be honest that I never thought I would ever hear from her again. And certainly, never be requested to write about her. By the way, I’m not naming her because she wants to remain anonymous. During covid, she moved back her home town, several states away, and due to her aging parents, decided to remain there. So, there’s a lot of anonymity.
Well that’s enough backstory, so let me tell you more about our longest session…

In the group, she often complained about how men are so matter of fact, and the romance or sultry side had diminished in almost every way. She stated that women still loved to be wooed and still loved to be fond over. So, when I got a chance to have an ANR session with her, I made sure to give her the experience she was seeking.

If you’ve read my writings before you know most of the time, I go to the woman. I find that people are at their most comfortable when they are in their own controlled environment. Occasionally, we will meet in the large back seat of my F150. But in this case, she asked if I would host. Of course I agreed, and went out of my way to make her bedding comfortable. Unlike a pillow princess set up, where I would line the bed in a U shape with pillows, this time I laid the pillow out in an elongated C. This allowed support for my head, at the same time giving her arms and head plenty of height and comfort.

So, the time came, and she arrived. When she came in, I took her hand and gently guided her to the bedroom. Most of the time, I would guide someone to the couch and talk with them. But this was not our first encounter, and as she put it in the past, “We’ve talked enough.”
Once in the bedroom, I lowered the lighting in the room to about twenty five percent. I then walked behind her, and gently begin massaging her stressed shoulders. I could feel the knots just below her shoulder blades, and worked those with my thumbs. She had to catch herself as her knees buckled to my massage.
After a few moments, she reached up and grabbed both of my hands, and pulled them down over her, to the buttons on her blouse, so I could undo them.
One by one, as I undid her blouse, I kissed the back of her neck, breathing in her sweet perfume and enjoying the warmth of her feeling against me.
When all of the buttons had been undone. And her shirt fell free, I gently pulled it from her revealing, a beautiful, deep pink laced braw.
Instead of undoing it immediately, I took her hand and guided her to the bed, which was filled with pillows.
I offered for her to lay in the center for which she accepted with a raised chin and a smile. Ohh lala.
Once she was comfortable, I laid on her left side, and laid my head against one of the pillows as well. Using the index finger of my left hand, I began tracing along the edge of her laced pink bra, where her skin met, with my fingernail.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, as she enjoyed my fingernail against her skin tracing, her bra line. This went all the way to her right side. And then back around the bottom. And then across the top again, and again, as she slowly relaxed, and let even more of that stress go.
After a while, she put her hand on the back of my head and while she didn’t push, I certainly knew what she wanted.
I began putting soft kisses her bra, kissing around each inch of her breasts. At 36F, that took some time, but she enjoyed every moment of it.
She softly exhaled while twirling my hair with her fingers. I continued the soft kisses and then began tracing again at the same time. Occasionally I would look up and see the smile on her face, with the soft moans coming from her lips. Sultry teasing, just melted her like butter.
In fact, I had been so concerned about her stress relief and enjoyment that I had not noticed that her bra clasp in the front – until she drew attention to it. She reached up with her right hand and unclasped the bra, but only uncovered her left breast.
I did not dive right for the nipple.
Instead, I took time to kiss around the breast, just like I had done with the bra. Some would call it respect of the breast, but I just call it sultry. The buildup is just as important as the payoff.
When she had had all of the buildup, she wanted, she moved my head so that my lips touched her nipple. My mouth opened and my tongue extended. So that I could latch on and begin suckling.
That’s when our other hand crossed over and embraced my head, snuggling me and pushing me into the breast.
Her nipples were not long, but they were wide and puffy, and felt so good against my tongue. I could feel the ripples of goosebumps in her areola as my lips massaged them. The latch had a lot to work on, and she had a lot to work with. And I was so grateful to be allowed to be the laborer of her relaxation.
At times I did have to hold my breath, and choose my breathing method. 36F is quite massive, but the real truth is, it’s not the size of the breast, it’s just how you handle it.
And that’s where the next stress relief came in.
I adjusted myself and moved my right hand so that it could cup underneath her breast and remove all the weight from her body.
As I did, she sucked in a large volume of air from the sudden release of weight being pulled down from her chest. At the same time, my left hand closed around the top of her breast and began massaging the diagonal muscles that do all the supporting.
And my latch remained, working her areola and nipple.
There was a whole symphony of sensations taking place. I massaged and suckled while she massaged my scalp and twirled her fingers in my hair.
These large breasts were not for the timid or for the quick. I suckled her left breast for well over an hour before she invited me to move to the right. But when she did invite me to move to the right, she did not pull that bra portion away. She wanted the same sultry experience with that one, and of course she received it.
The exact same methods I used on her left breast were repeated on her right. But, of course, that’s not the end of what happened.
And I’ll go ahead and spoil it. That nothing more than ANR happened. She remained dressed from the waist down through the entire session.
But, what did happen is she invited me back to the left breast, this time with my head off the pillow and on the bed. She turned into me, trapping my head against the bed with her breast. She threw her leg over mine and snuggled me like a big soft teddy bear.
Breathing at times was a challenge, even more so than the other. But how could one not lose themselves in such an embrace.
I fell into a twilight and just suckled as time just raced by. Occasionally, I could hear her snore sweetly, not loudly, and I too probably did the same thing.
But equality ruled the day and she had me change positions on the bed so we could repeat the same scenario for the right breast, all-be-it, forty-five minutes later.
And when the right breast was done, again, it was not the end of the session. She enjoyed something that most women do not. In ANR, the goal is to make the breast feel rejuvenated, full, and well pampered.
But she also wanted them to have a bit of soreness.
So, we went to the living room where she sat on the couch. I turned on the tv and gave her the remote.
I knelt between her legs and began to suck on her breasts. Not suckle. Full on suction. She would push my head into her breast to make me suck deeper and harder. But there’s no magic here. She is a 36F. There is no deep throating that. Her breasts are firm and beautiful. And with permission, she has allowed me to say they had stretch marks. They were not some picture, perfect magazine porn breasts. They were child rearing, prior milk producing, natural middle-aged breasts. And that made them better than any porn breast from a magazine. And because they were former working breasts, they were use to long attention.
So I sucked on her breast until my jaw absolutely couldn’t take it. And there was no sub/dom here. When I finally had to stop, I stopped. We watched tv and laughed, and when my jaw felt better, I started again, without asking. We repeated this until her breasts felt the way she wanted them too. She had the sensations and the feelings and the results she was desiring.
In all, this session lasted over five hours. And to get a good session like that was rare. Everybody works, and everybody has family, and everybody has complications.
But I thought that one was worth writing about.
Thank you M….y for allowing me to share this memory.
And to the reader, I hope you enjoyed it as well.
Thank you.
And a thank you for all the women over the course of my life, that have given me such a wonderful lifestyle to share.
And to the men reading this, if you put her needs first, your needs will be met tenfold.

Have a blessed day
Darth…

[Author]

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