I was 16 when I fell in love for the first time. Although, to be fair… “fell” doesn’t quite capture it. I took an olympian freestyle high dive into love with him and didn’t come up for air for the better part of 10 years. I lived on my own at the age of 17 – so he and I spent almost every night together. He remains the only man who has ever loved and accepted everything about my body; every taste, every scent, every curve, every mark…sometimes I would ask “But how do you like THAT??” He would say, “I love all of it. This is where you live.”
Even at 16 I was large breasted – which he loved. I was much smaller then and somewhat athletic, so he appreciated them more than I did. My biggest annoyance was that I couldn’t sleep comfortably on my tummy, so I had to get used to sleeping on my side. He would sleep on his side with his face nestled into my breasts and my arms and legs wrapped around him. One night, a couple of years into our dating, he fell asleep before I did. I gazed down at him as he slept and I noticed that his lips and tongue looked like they were softly sucking. I gently moved my nipple toward his mouth and rested it on his lips. At first his mouth stayed closed – but I could feel the slight movement of his lips and tongue. Even though my nipple wasn’t in his mouth, I felt relaxed and comforted by the slight movement and the possibility. I started to doze off – feeling even more close to him than before. I woke a short time later to the sensation of my nipple being sucked. He had awoken just enough to open his mouth and begin to softly suck. I moved as close as I could to him and held his head in my hand. He made a soft moaning sound and wrapped his arms around my back. We were both asleep within minutes.
We never really discussed it, but after that night we would often fall asleep that way. Sometimes his suckle would be soft and sleepy… other times his suck would become more shallow and his tongue would become an explorer. But whether it led to sex or sleep – it was our time at the end of the day. It was our secret bond that no one knew about.
A few years later I became pregnant and started lactating almost immediately. He loved the taste and he thrilled at the fact that he was the very first person on earth who had ever tasted my milk. After we lost the pregnancy, our suckling became a time to grieve and nurture each other through our sadness. We both felt a sense of loss when the milk dried up.
By the time I was 25 he and I had parted ways. My heartbreak was overwhelming and the loss I felt for the nursing bond was enveloped in my loss of him. I didn’t know how to separate the two..I didn’t even know what to call it.
I eventually fell in love again and we had two children that I happily nursed. However, the minute that I began lactating my breasts, which he had previously enjoyed, became “off limits”. My partner did not like the taste or idea of my breastmilk and, in fact, would make a sour face if any milk got on him during sex. I felt a deep feeling of rejection when he would react like that – and eventually I stopped desiring him at all. Our relationship quickly became one of business partners and after I finished nursing my children, I never offered my breast to him again.
Over the years, my desire for the bond I experienced so long ago has grown. I cherished the feeling of closeness and bond. I loved that no matter what our day had delivered, we would end it together in our special embrace. I loved that I could provide him such a soft, loving entrance into sleep.