Skin To Skin
The silence of the night slowly creeps upon us. The cars going by in the street dwindle in number by the hour, the gradual light of the sun replaced by the warm glowing lamps in the master bedroom, and the hustle bustle of people around the neighborhood fading away into the air conditioned white noise.
We both lay on the king size bed, staring into each other’s eyes, shielded from the vulnerableness of nudity by our skimpy undergarments. The heat of intimacy filling our hearts and an ever present desire needing to be quenched, we lean in for a kiss. I feel the slight metallic drag on my face and I look at her hand with the emerald on her ring finger as she rubs over the metal engraving on my own left hand, symbolizing a bond that will never die in us and a lustful passion that fuels us every day.
I embrace her in my arms, taking the time to allow my finger tips to forage for her black bra strap. Grabbing the tab in place, I snap them loose. I smooch her neck as she gathers herself off my chest. The trademark grin on her face, she lets the spaghetti straps fall down to the crooks of her arms. I peel them away and the cups fold forward revealing her breasts, plump in size, sleight, bluish veins running at the top of them, and jutting forward at her darkened areolas and nipples, shaped as if they were pencil erasers like the one’s I used when I was a child. My palms reach for them and I gently press up on the fatty tissue. They’re engorged and full, my mouth watering at the feeling of this.
My wife rises to her knees, pressing her thumbs into the panty strings. I follow suit with my own underwear. Surely, we’re nude and raw in our own skin. Bare and naked yet cherished and appreciated. We snog one last time and she lays onto her back on the bed. I move my way up her body, caressing her flat belly up to her bust. She smiles at me, her loving glow surrounding me. In contact skin to skin, she now holds up to me her left mammary and I greet it with my open mouth.
I settle my body onto her chest as I lie somewhat sideways to her. She tosses her flowing hair back onto the pillow as she lays there with me. I gently begin to suckle her nipple and I feel the little milk beads beginning to flow out of it and onto my tongue. So warm, sweet, and tasty. By each guzzle, I feel my mind drifting away, into my happy place. The worries of the day slipping away, my stress and anxiety melting like butter, a similar dairy of which I consume. I feel so relieved, calm, at peace, intimate, and accepted. I look up towards my wife and I can tell she’s the same. I feel so much love from her, it wells a few tears to my eyes, kept from spilling out from the closed eyelids enjoying the milky white paradise.
Gradually, I begin to suckle longer and more aggressively but still with a finesse. Her nipple running along my tongue as it extends toward the back of my throat, spraying my wife’s liquid gold lavishly. I then sense her skin whom my face rests upon gathering goose bumps, feeling her heartbeat steadily rise, and her breaths shallow up; The erotic attention at her nipple pressuring her lustful yet loving mind. My fingers can’t help but explore her body past the waist to discover her carnal lips swollen and drenched in her juices. I continue at the same pace and she comes to, her quiet yet passionate gasps for breath and escaping moans of her pleasurable climax. Seeing the orgasm spread through her body as she blushes red and her skin glimmers, the sexual gratification like a fire and the afterglow as if the following smolder.
I open my eyes and glare at her other nipple, erect at attention and leaking from the source. I let go of her left nipple and latch to the other, this one plentifully letting down by the will of my tongue and lips. Feeling her palms in my hair and a gentle scratch along my scalp, it is here I will drink the night away, not from the emptiness of alcohol, but the filling of milk, swigging to my heart’s content. I wrap my arms around my wife, knowing I can never let go, my heart welling at each gulp, and the comfort of all of it. She holds onto me, too and I know I am accepted, honored, and cared for generously. A gift only mothers and wives can offer, the ability to feed another human being from their own body, the very source and nurturing of life and all its goodness. Breastfeeding, not a compulsion for milk but the rawest, most pure form of intimacy we enjoy as not only the newest, most innocent beings in this world but later into our mature lives where we have a 2nd opportunity to enjoy such a blessing from the feminine to the masculine that must be revered.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/brktoe/skin_to_skin_mf_married_adult_breastfeeding
BEAUTIFUL ?
I loved reading that. Thank you