The short Peruvian latina opened the door.
“Hola Papi” she smiled up at the considerably taller white man. Her round face and wide set eyes indicated her heritage.
The man she called Papi, smiled in return, “Hello beautiful Lechera”. He always looked forward to his scheduled therapy appointment. He stood a full one and a quarter foot taller than the pleasant woman, and was at least a decade older than her.
She stepped away from the doorway to let him in. Her silk white robe was belted around her waist, accenting her flared hips. He could just make out dark areola and thick nipples poking at the white fabric. Her legs were wrapped in black stockings ending just above her knees, garter straps held them in place and disappeared beneath her short white robe. He throbbed in response to her veiled sexuality and stepped into her apartment’s living room. She turned, giving him a nice view of her wide bubble shaped ass.
Papi followed the stout dark haired woman to a bedroom she’d converted into her therapy studio. The windows were curtained, letting in muted light. Sensual music played at a low volume and a subtle herbal scent filled his nostrils. A low wide leather chair with armrests and a low back sat centered in the room.
She turned into him, hugging the man, her head only reaching the center of his chest and her firm breasts pressed into his abdomen. “Relax Papi, I will take care of you.” She said sweetly. His big arms encased the solid little woman. She was short and firm. Though on the thick side, she wasn’t soft, her body felt good through the robe. Her small hands reached up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He let his arms fall to his sides as she removed his shirt, exposing his hairy chest. She deftly pulled his shirt off, turned and hung it on a clothes rack that stood in the corner. “La Lechera” returned to “Papi” and began unbuckling his belt. She stripped it from its loops and hung it on the rack. She then knelt to take off his shoes. He looked down into the top of her robe, giving him a perfect view of one of her firm breasts capped with its large dark nipple. He stepped out of one shoe, then the other. Next came his socks. The kneeling Lechera took his shoes and socks and set them off to the side before standing back up.
She smiled up at him as she stood up. She slowly walked around him, letting her fingers lightly graze across his chest, then his back and back around to his belly. Her delicate fingers glided down to the top of his pants. She deftly unhooked the clasp and then lowered the zipper. She dropped to her knees, taking his pants with her. He wore nothing underneath. She smiled coyly up at him as she helped him step out of his pants. Her eyes lit up as they passed over his eggs and pole, before grinning up at his face, so far above her. She rose and hung his pants on the rack.
Lechera placed a hand gently on his hip to guide him to the low leather chair. Papi sat, his skin making contact with the leather. The back of the chair only rose to his shoulder blades, so he slid his butt forward until his neck found the top of the chair. Lechera took some coconut oil from a small table next to the chair, knelt and began rubbing it into his left calf, massaging down to his feet. She pulled the foot into her lap and gave it a nice massage.
Papi groaned in pleasure as her skilled hands massaged the aches he didn’t even realize he had, from his left foot. After a few minutes she lifted his leg and draped his left knee over the arm of the chair. She moved to his right leg and repeated the process, rubbing the aches out of his calf and foot. “That feels so good” purred Papi. Soon she lifted his right leg and draped it over the other arm of the chair. Papi’s legs were now fully draped over the chair’s wide arms, his head sunk all the way down to the back of the chair. His ass was at the front edge of the cushions. His meaty prong was lazily at half mast against his right thigh and his big orbs hung against the front of the chair’s cushion.
Lechera stood and walked behind him. Her hands tickled across the top of his shoulders, then began to massage his neck and shoulders. Her head came up next to his, her eyes looked down her Papi’s exposed body. “Does Papi need milking?” she whispered in his ear, her hands continued to knead his sore shoulders. She smiled as she saw a bob from her “sorbete”.
“You know me baby” he whispered back to her huskily. She withdrew her hands and circled around the chair to stand in front of him.
The thick little latino slowly lifted her arms to the sash around her robe, pulling the drawstrings to release the knot. The silken white robe slipped open, each side hung from her thick prominent nipples. Revealed between the sides of her small firm orbs, her smooth belly and belly button. Beneath that a black lacy garter belt crossed her abdomen, two straps held up the stockings that clung tight to her thick white thighs. Framed between garter belt and straps, her light skin formed a smooth vee between her thighs, her hairless mound ended in a smooth slit.
She shrugged her shoulders and her robe slipped to the floor with a whisper. Revealing her entire short thick body. Her skin was light and smooth, stretched tight over her body, even her breasts stood firmly in defiance of gravity, there wasn’t a crease to be seen on her smooth flesh, except for the one between her legs. Her compact stature put all the good parts in close proximity to Papi’s roving eyes. She smiled again as the much larger and older man leered at her. His sorbete throbbed and rose upward. From how he was slouched in the chair, it seemed to be the closest thing to her.
She stepped between his spread legs, smiled and slowly lowered to her knees. “Is Papi going to feed his lechera?” She asked sexily. She placed a hand on each of his knees. The two held eye contact as she rose up on her knees so that she could reach the top of her drinking straw. Her eyes never left his as her lips latched onto the tip of his straw, she sucked enough into her mouth so that she could rest her tongue on the underside of the sorbete and apply slow pressure to it. Her cheeks hollowed, her head made short bobbing motions. Drinking a milkshake from a straw takes a lot of suction and persistence. Lechera proved to have both. He smiled at his Lechera, he loved watching her drink his milkshake. He’d spent the entire week preparing it for her and now it was time for her gift. She took more of the sorbete into her mouth, she’d found that it was easier to draw out her delicious drink that way.
She held half of the sorbete fully in her mouth, sucking hard, bobbing her head in little repetitive jabs, she was determined. Papi gasped and groaned, amazed at how strongly this tiny latina worked to drink a milkshake. Like her he waited in anticipation to see when the fluid would finally make its way up the straw. His eyes squeezed, almost as if he was mentally willing her to succeed.
Lechera continued to suck, harder, her tongue slid over her sorbete in ardent anticipation. Her short head movements continued to draw in more and more of the straw.
Papi’s mouth hung open as he saw the woman’s tongue reach the container, her sorbete had almost completely disappeared into her strongly sucking mouth. Every bit of it was under constant motion and pressure, such was her determination to milk her Papi. Her eyes bore into his, like a test of wills. At last, he gave up. She won.
Papi threw his head back and let out a long gasp, he gave up watching Lechera suck on her sorbete, at long last the milkshake erupted through the length of the straw, her suction and hard work had finally paid off. Gushes of the warm drink flooded her mouth and throat. She gulped and slurped her beverage, satisfaction came over her face after the last of her drink was swallowed down.
Papi was left quivering, his knees still draped over the chair’s arms, his sweaty naked form shuddered. It seemed for all the world that he’d been the one working so hard to draw out the milkshake, but no, all he’d done was sit in a chair and watch his little milkmaid drink.
She continued to smile and lick her lips as Papi came down from the intense experience. She waited until his breathing returned to normal and his eyes met hers. “Such a good lechera” he said to her.
She then stood up, her hips between his legs. “Would Papi like his leche now?” She offered. He nodded in response. The hairless Incan woman straddled the lounging man and offered her firm breast to him.
Papi suckled in her thick dark nipple, like everything about the woman, her nipples were thick and firm. He chewed and sucked on it, tugging it into his mouth, sucking her breast in along with the nipple. She’d never been with child, so they failed to produce any fluid, but he sucked with vigor and force and she mewled against his chest as he switched between her rubbery nipples.
He hooked his arms under her knees and wrapped his hands around her hips. Shifting forward in the chair, he was able to lean forward and stand up, lifting the small woman with him. He turned around and lowered her to the chair, effectively swapping places with her. He spread her stockinged and gartered legs over the arms of the chair. Where he had overflowed the chair with his long limbs and large body making it look small, she made the chair look large, her legs splayed out wide to reach the arms of it. Her head didn’t reach the top of the chair.
All that breast suckling had made him thirsty. It didn’t help that lechera had drained him as well. He needed his drink. There below him was a natural spring, clear liquid leaked from a split mound, he licked his lips unconsciously. He knelt down in front of the chair, hooked thick thighs in his arms and drew the fountain to his lips.
She looked upward and whimpered as the big man pulled her hips upward. Her head dropped to the seat of the chair as he lifted her bottom half upwards. It was now her turn for her face to begin turning red. He sunk his face into the crevasse of her bountiful spring and began sucking. He drew her tiny spigot into his mouth. Her slick mound braced tightly against his cheeks. His tongue moved upward, dragging against the tiny openings of her hill.
She quivered as he applied suction to her little pinnacle and ran his tongue up underneath it. His arms wrapped around her lower abdomen like a vise, locking her in place so that he could draw and suck on the spigot. It’s a good thing he had a firm brace on her as she started to shake. She made cute squealing and grunting sounds. Her little brook started to flow.
He held onto the bucking fountain and began to drink. He found that constant suction and tongue movement kept the stream flowing allowing him to begin to slake his thirst. The small south American woman’s legs began thrashing. Her hands reached up futilely to push him from his fountain, but he was thirsty, and would not be denied.
Papi continued to suckle his leche as she thrashed and screamed. Her face and chest were bright red, her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hands clutched at the chair, his arms, and wherever they landed. Lechera was turning into a panting sweating mess. Her body convulsed and liquid shot from her fountain, up around his cheeks, some of it ran down her belly, but most of it he drank from the source.
“Papi….pleease….please…” He drank of her deeply, her thrashing had become non-stop shudders. The milk of her fountain had now run down the crack of her ass, down her back and slickened the chair beneath her, along with her thighs and belly. She was running dry and pleading for Papi to cease. He continued until she became almost still, the barest of shudders running through her body, her fountain had run dry.
Papi loosened his grip on the thick little Incan’s hips, but still held her bare smooth flesh close to his chest. Looking down at the spent and exhausted woman, he knew he needed to help her recover some of the fluids he’d drained from her. He lifted her up off the chair, her head hung downward, her ass held against his chest. He moved toward the massage table that stood to the side.
Carefully he lowered the nearly unconscious woman’s back and hips onto the low massage table. It was shorter than most massage tables, to accommodate her short stature. Her head hung off the end of the table. She lifted her arms toward him, “Papi?” she questioned, her eyes opened to see that her sorbete was poised before her.
“Papi is going to feed you again Lechera, just relax,” he said soothingly. He held her wrists down beside her hips. He enjoyed the view of her slippery thighs and prominent smooth mons. He took a step forward and felt her lips entrap him once again. He slowly thrust his hips forward, enjoying the view of the Incan’s, once again, tightly closed slit.
At last he could move his hips forward no more, glancing down, he enjoyed the view of Lechera’s smooth exposed neck and the soft skin under her chin. Her neck bulged outward, nearly to her collar bones. He held her wrists firmly from rising. He held without moving a long time, just enjoying the feeling of the warm swallowing movements that rippled along his tightly encased sorbete.
“Oh, Lechera, that feels so nice.” He crooned. Having been so recently drained, he wasn’t going to so easily give up his sustenance to the thirsty woman, as before. He began to buck his hips in very short thrusts, he didn’t want to withdraw more than half an inch, if he could help it. Everything felt so good, completely encased in her mouth and throat. He was lost in pleasure as he thrust, barely noticing Lechera’s body shaking and fighting to get the large obstruction out of her throat. Just as she was about to lose consciousness, he relented and drew back, allowing her to suckle from just the end of his thick straw.
She gasped and panted for a few moments, his sorbete twitched in her mouth, poised and waiting to continue to feed her. “Ready?” he asked. She nodded and his hips thrust forward. He watched the progress of the lump pushing her neck outward, feeling the pressure as it went. “Oh, yes” he hissed. He began those slow strokes again, remaining nearly fully encased in tight latina throat.
This went on for some time, Lechera nearly choking to death on her sorbete until Papi relented. They repeated it over and over, Papi’s body slowly getting more heated. His muscles quivered more and more with each repetition. Her body continued to thrash, his muscles strained to contain her. He feasted his eyes on bald thick mons and slit with each thrust. After at least 35 minutes and many starts and stops, he’d come to the brink. He couldn’t withhold any longer. The last time he’d promised her he could go for an hour, but he was tiring and his ability to hold back had been utterly vanquished.
Lechera was gagging and violently shaking as she once again neared her limits of consciousness as he gave one last mighty thrust. Her legs had fallen over the sides. His eyes glazed over, staring at her wide spread slit. He pinned her throat to the table and unloaded his thick shake. Pulse after pulse filled the woman as her consciousness waned. She fell limp as he finished convulsing, having fed her all he had. He withdrew. She took in a huge breath and with the return of oxygen, her consciousness exploded, every nerve ending seemed to catch fire and her body wracked with convulsions of pleasure. It was a feeling like no other and she’d learned to crave it.
Papi held the woman from falling off the table as she shook and quaked. They were both sweating and utterly spent. After their breathing had calmed down a bit, he helped the smooth naked little woman off the table. She led him to the adjoining bathroom and into a wide glass encased shower stall.
Lechera washed her Papi from neck to feet. Her soapy hands and washcloth soothed his muscles. She knelt before him and carefully soaped up his sorbete and huevos before shaving them smooth. Finally, she rinsed him down, and they stepped from the shower. She dried him off, helped him dress and walked him to the door.
Before he stepped out through the door, he turned to her, “see you again next week lechera?”
“Si Papi” smiled the short, unclothed smooth curvy woman.
He smiled, nodded his head, and stepped out into the sunlight.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/zszq7o/the_peruvian_therapist_m40sf30soralmutualswallow