• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • First Time
  • /
  • She Doesn't Pt. 08

She Doesn't Pt. 08

Chapter 11 – the Blouse

All sorts of emotions poured through me as I felt the button open. I was too frightened to do anything. I wanted to get up and run from the room. But my love for this man was even stronger, so I stayed, feeling like a lamb on the altar, waiting for the sacrifice.

Then he kissed my breastbone, and whispered, “I love you!”. And he kissed all of the skin that had just been revealed as the button opened. The edges of my bra were visible, and he kissed my breast all along the edge of the bra. I found myself trembling.

His hand moved to the next button.

When it opened, again, he said “I love you!” and kissed all of the newly exposed skin. More of my bra was exposed, so he kissed around the edges of the bra again. He never touched the bra itself, just the exposes skin.

I was still afraid, but everything he did made me love him more. I TRUSTED him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I was still afraid he wouldn’t like it when he saw me. NO man would ever want my big, floppy tits.

He moved to the next button, and again told me “I love you!” and kissed all the newly exposed ski.

Finally, the last button opened. “I love you!” He kissed my entire chest and belly as he pushed the shirt to my sides. He kissed me everywhere from my panties up to my shoulders, but he didn’t touch anything that was still covered.

I was basking in his kisses, but I was still afraid of what had to happen next. I think I was more afraid of this than I had been of loosing my virginity.

“Now, I’m going to unfasten your bra”

In an unconscious action, my hand flew up to my breasts, covering my bra. Then I saw the pleading in his eyes, and I caressed his cheek, and returned my hand to my side. I may have unconsciously known this would happen, because the Victoria’s Secret bra I was wearing fastened in the front.

He found the opening, and after a little fumbling. It loosened. He put his hand on my breastbone and slid it downward, between the open sides of the bra to my stomach, and followed his caress with kisses. Then, he took one cup of the bra and lifted it off of me, laying it on the side. The other cup followed.

Again, my hand flew up to cover my nakedness, and I gazed pleadingly into his eyes. He took my hand, raised it to his lips and kissed both sides of it, then he returned it to my side, leaving me uncovered. I couldn’t look! I clenched my eyes closed and turned head away, waiting.

Nothing happened!

I opened my eyes and stole a glance at him.

He was just leaning over me as he had been, gazing at my breasts.

I turned my face to him to look into his eyes. His eyes met mine, then returned to gazing at my breasts. I glanced down at them. They were the same as always, except that my nipples were standing up. But the breasts were still big and floppy. I looked back at him, and his eyes met mine.

“They’re beautiful!”

In that moment, I felt more appreciated by this man that anyone, other than my family, had ever made me feel.

“Are they all right?”
“They’re beautiful!”

“Do you . . . like them?”

“I like them! I wouldn’t want them to be any different.”

“But they ARE . . . “

Again, he put his finger to my lips, stopping my sentence. “But they ARE BEAUTIFUL!” and his eyes returned to my breasts.

He looked at them for a long time, then he asked, “May I kiss them?”

I nodded.

Almost reverently, he bent lower, his lips grazed my nipple, then moved to the edge of my breast, kissing his way around, covering every inch and working his way by circular patterns toward the areola. but before he got to the nipple, he moved to the other and followed the same pattern. My hand came up to below my breast, and I supported it and raised it up, offering the nipple to his mouth.

His mouth moved over my nipple, almost as if it were an object of worship, and he tugged gently with dry lips. I arched my back toward him, and he finally took the nipple in his mouth and began slowly to suckle me.

I was dumbfounded by the awe with which he treated my breasts, and the value he seemed to place on them, and the respect he granted them. It was not until he had sucked gently for quite a while that he brought his hand up to support a breast, then allowed it to move to the other breast and massage it with almost feather-like gentleness.

He seemed to worship my breasts for a long time. Then gradually his kisses moved downward until he reached the waistband of my panties and I grasped a handful of his hair, but the made no effort to kiss me lower.

He remembered his promise!

As he kissed my stomach, he gently slipped my panties past my hips and knees, where I slipped my feet out of them. He continued to kiss my stomach, and I heard the sound of a packet tearing, and I knew he was putting on his condom. He moved between my legs and began to kiss his way back up. This time, he gave considerable attention to my breasts, before continuing upwards. I knew that when his lips reached mine, he would be positioned to enter me.

Our lips met, and I felt him touching my lower lips. As we kissed gently, he slowly moved into me. With utmost gentleness, he moved in and out of me. Since I wasn’t swept away with emotions as I had been before, I was able to watch him as we joined bodies. His eyes were closed and he was concentrating deeply. I watched his response as I squeezed him, and rocked into him. I saw the look of satisfaction as I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him deeper with each thrust. I saw his lips tighten as he began to speed up and grow larger in me, and his cum-filled balls slapped against my bottom. I saw his eyes squeeze tight as his breaths came fast and his grip around be became stronger and I heard his gasp as he poured his seed into me where it was captured by the condom. And I smiled as I felt him relax and collapse on top of me.

Later, we were sitting in bed, eating ice cream. Both of us were naked, but the sheet was draped over our legs.

I couldn’t believe how far I’d come in such a short time. Here I was, in bed with a MAN eating ice cream. Not only that, but I was BAREBREASTED and I didn’t care.

Well, maybe a little. I still had those nagging doubts that kept coming back. Finally, I had to ask:
”Barnabus, are my breasts REALLY OK?”

He looked at me for a moment, then his eyes squinted, his mouth puckered, and he started talking in a perfect imitation of Julia Childs!

“My dear!” He took the bowl of ice cream from my hand and put both bowls on the night table as he continued.

“Are you insulting me by questioning my judgment? I happen to be a connoisseur of woman’s titties!” I was giggling at his Julia Child imitation. He reached out to my breasts, taking one in each hand and punctuating each description he made by pushing, pulling, stretching, whatever seemed to match his words.

“I have seen BIG titties, small titties, fat titties, skinny titties, long titties, short titties, pancake titties, puffy titties, no titties, mammoth titties.”

He had me laughing at his carrying on.

“ I’ve seen narrow nipples, wide nipples, short nipples, long nipples, colored nipples, pale nipples, and even inverted nipples!” For emphasis he pinched my nipple.

“Ouch!” I put my hand up to my breast.

He returned to his normal voice and looking into my eyes, he whispered, “I’ve seen them all and I wouldn’t trade yours for any of them!

“And I would appreciate it . . . “ he allowed his hand to caress my breast “. . . if you didn’t disparage the breasts that I love!” He kissed my nipple, ran his lips over it pulling it gently into his mouth before releasing it and kissing it again.

“I love you!”

I had to ask one more time. “I remember in school In gym class . . there were some girls who had really perfect breasts. I envied them.

I continued, “What kind of breast do you like best?”

Barnabus took me in his arms again. “Cathy, there are as many different sizes and shapes of breasts as there are women. I love your breasts, not because they are large or small, firm or flaccid, round or flat, even if you had no breasts. Whatever you have, I love because it belongs to YOU. I love you; I love your breasts, no matter what their size or shape.

“As long as they’re part of you, I’ll love them!”

Once again, by not answering my question, he HAD answered my question.

Chapter 12 – Epilog

We continue dating, and make love as often as we can. I enjoy sex, and yes, I am an eager participant and I love the pleasure that I feel Barnabus experiencing, but sometimes I wonder if there should be more in it for me. I gave my roommate notice and she moved out at the end of the month. After I went on the pill, we made love a few times without the condom, so that I would know what it felt like. I liked it, but it was a little more messy. Then, he started using the condom again . . . he preferred it that way.

And every time we make love, Barnabus always takes off my top first. Then after he had paid his respects to my breasts, he continues undressing me and loving me.

We’ve begun to talk a little about marriage, but he’s still pretty sensitive about that subject.

I offered to have my breasts either reduced or firmed up, but he won’t hear of it.

So my breasts ARE still big and floppy. But, at least in Barnabus’ opinion, they are BEAUTIFUL. And after all, his opinion is the only one that really counts.

THE END

  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • First Time
  • /
  • She Doesn't Pt. 08

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 338 milliseconds