My name is Leonard Ruben. I’m an old time rocketscientist. It’s not my real name, of course, but if youare reasonably familiar with the NASA lunar program, youcan probably figure out who I am. Not that you wouldwant to. The events I will describe took place half acentury ago and most of the people involved are eitherdead or in nursing homes. But this little story isactually true. It is one of the more memorable nuggetsof pleasure in my long life.
No matter what you see on TV science shows the Apollospace program wasn’t a carefully planned NASA enterpriseconceived and directed by forward looking seniorscientists. Rather it was a knee jerk political responseto the Russian success in putting a satellite in orbit.Sure, both countries had plans to capitalize on theirICBM efforts by using rockets to loft scientificpayloads into space but the Russians succeeded while ourVanguard rockets blew up on the launch pad. The Russiansalso mapped the back side of the moon and put a mobilevehicle on the lunar surface while all we could do waslaunch a beeping radio transmitter on a Redstonemissile.
So the politicians declared that we would leapfrog theRusskies and put a man on the moon. The trouble was thatno one had an idea if it could be done. By that time wehad barely put a man in orbit. No senior NASA scientistwanted to have his reputation ruined if the project wasa failure, although they were all ready to claim creditif it was a success. Thus the initial phases of thespace program were left to untried, naive engineeringnerds like us.
Nerds is perhaps too pejorative a term. Most of us wererecent graduates from engineering schools, in our mid20’s. We were just like any other bunch of horny guyswho wanted desperately to drink beer on weekends withour friends, drive fast cars, and get laid. The onlydifference was that most of us carried slide rules andwore pocket protectors in our shirts.
I received an aeronautical engineering degree in 1956after service in the Korean War. For the next six yearsI was a technological migrant worker flitting fromaerospace company to aerospace company as it gained orlost defense contracts. By a weird throw of the dice myjobs were always at the cutting edge of aerospacefantasy. My fingerprints were on the Atlas missile, themach 2 Canadian Avro CF105 fighter, the Polaris missilesystem, the mach 3 North American B70 bomber and theDynasoar space glider, the precursor of the ‘SpaceShuttle. Fortunately none of these devices was ever usedin combat.
After working all day on methods of killing Cold Warenemies, we chilled out on cold beer and hot girls. Thedecade from 1955 to 1965 was a sexual paradise for youngunmarrieds. Birth control pills removed the fear ofunwanted pregnancy, AIDS had yet to emerge as a sexuallytransmitted disease, the Haight-Asbury “Summer of Love”was in full flower, and women were asserting theirrights to enjoy casual sex. More important, there wereplenty of women in the technological workplace. Hot,nubile girls anxious to use their college degrees on thejob and their bodies in bed.
I must confess that I took advantage of everyopportunity to sleep with my feminine coworkers. It’snot that they were gorgeous. It’s just that they werewilling. A typical evening would start with a few drinksat a nearby bar with a compliant female engineer,technician, or secretary. Of course I would drive herhome. The dating ritual mandated that she should inviteme in to have “one for the road.”
We had a drink, or two, kissed, and groped each other.Protocol required that I grab a feel of her breasts.She, in turn, would make a half hearted protest thenreturn my kisses. We removed each other’s clothes andtumbled to bed or the couch, whichever was closer. Sexwas almost an anti-climax. Pleasant but expected. Weclutched each other’s bodies. I penetrated her cunt andsucked her boobies while she wrapped her legs around meand pulled me close. We moved in unison, fucking eachother as we both rose to satisfactory climaxes. Therewas plenty of passion but little affection in thesecouplings.
If things went really well, I would stay the nightfucking my partner until we both fell asleep fromexhaustion. We might get together on following nights orchoose new partners. There was little jealousy involved.Free and open sex was the way of the 50’s. It’s hard tobelieve that we horny nerds were the guys who designedand engineered the high tech weaponry that was thebulwark of America’s defenses during the Cold War.
By the early 60’s it all changed for me. I was 30 yearsold, almost an old man by the standards of my peers. Myprevious five years of aerospace experience made mesomething of a veteran rocket scientist. By then I wasworking for a division of that research powerhouse, BellLabs. We had a contract with NASA for systems analysison the entire manned space program. My primaryresponsibility was the Gemini space capsule. I got thejob because the designer of the capsule, a Canadian,asked for me. He had been the chief aerodynamicsengineer of AVRO and we had worked well together on theCF105 fighter.
If you remember, the early NASA lunar manned spaceprogram used four types of manned capsules. First wasthe Mercury. Barely more than a sealed ashcan with a maninside, it was designed to orbit the Earth just to seeif it could be done. This was the one that launched JohnGlenn to fame and was the subject of the movie “TheRight Stuff.” The largest and the most well known spacecapsule was the Apollo. It was really a truck, manned bythree astronauts and designed to ferry the LunarExcursion Module, the LEM, to the moon and then return.The LEM was intended only be used in space. It had nore-entry capability.
The Apollo would carry the LEM to near lunar orbit,detach it from its storage compartment and lock up withit. The landing crew would transfer to the LEM, descendto the moon’s surface, walk around and pick up a fewrocks and board the LEM to return to the Apollo. The LEMwould be abandoned in space and the Apollo would returnto Earth. Except no one was sure that it could be done.No American had ever walked in space, linked up withanother spacecraft, or changed orbit. All that wastested out on my baby, the Gemini.
Although people think of the Gemini as the precursor tothe Apollo, it was actually designed after the Apollo.It was the most sophisticated space capsule of the era.It had hatches that could open in space and permit anastronaut to leave and return. It could changeorientation, rendezvous with another space capsule andeven change its orbit. And it had enough life supportcapability for two men to survive for several weeks. Itwas the craft that proved that all of the things thatwere proposed for the Apollo were actually possible.
The responsibility of making sure that the Gemini wassuccessful matured me. I supervised a team of 12 seniorengineers who, in turn, each supervised their own muchlarger teams. My work day was spent in coordinating theefforts of the work groups, reviewing and signing off onplans, attending meetings, and giving presentations tovarious political dignitaries. One such meeting was aweeklong session at the west coast offices of McDonnellDouglas, the primary contractor of the Gemini. It was tomake sure that everyone was on the same page. Eachsubcontracting company sent representatives.
The person in charge of the Life Sciences aspect of theproject was a young woman, Andrea Hendricks,approximately my own age or maybe a year or two younger.Andrea was responsible for both the details of theGemini life support system and the suit that theastronauts would wear for space walks and the lunarlanding. She was short, barely more than five feet tall,and attractive but appeared a bit heavy set.
She wore loose fitting unfashionable clothes. In factshe looked like a female engineer. A nerdette, you mightsay. Still, I was impressed by her no nonsense approachat meetings. She was a female bulldozer and obviouslycould get things done. Our coordination session lasted aweek and we all left for home.
Andrea and I were both going back to the Washington D.C.area and were booked on the same flight, a TWAJetstream. The name “Jetstream” was TWA’s effort tomisguide the flying public. It was simply a gussied upConstellation propeller plane. All the other majorairlines were converting to faster real jets. Still itwas a favorite for business flyers. First Class wasdivided up into little compartments.
The stewardesses served free drinks with abandon. Youcould recline your seat into a fairly comfortable couch.A businessman could leave LA, booze and snooze his wayto NYC, and arrive ready for a day’s work, albeit with aconsiderable hangover. Because we knew each other on afirst name basis, Andrea and I decided to share the samecompartment.
As bad luck would have it the East coast was socked-inby a monumental blizzard. New York, Philadelphia,Baltimore, and Washington airports were shut down. Ourflight was terminated in Chicago and would continue thenext day. The airline arranged for stranded passengersto get a room at the O’Hare Hilton, the Chicago airporthotel. With all eastbound flights terminating in Chicagothe hotel was crowded to capacity.
Only our initials and last names were on the passengermanifest so the hotel assumed that Andrea and I were twobusinessmen traveling together and allocated only oneroom, the last one available. When we arrived to checkin, the desk clerk was truly embarrassed and told methat he could arrange a bed in one of the meeting roomsfor me for the night. Andrea took the matter in her owncapable hands.,
“Don’t worry about it.” she said to the clerk, “Put usin the same room. We are both adults. We can handle thesleeping accommodations.”
Andrea and I were treated to a nice meal in the hotelrestaurant. We had a very pleasant conversation. Andreatalked freely over dinner. She was forthright, directand said exactly what she meant. I guess it was herengineering approach to life’s problems. Most peoplewould interpret her directness as a lack of socialgraces but after a while I learned to appreciate her nononsense approach. In the time that I knew her I neverheard her equivocate about any issue.
She told me that she was a devotee of yoga and likedclassical music. She shared a Georgetown apartment withtwo girlfriends. She had no serious boyfriend but wasalways on the lookout. Then we adjourned to our room. Wehad only our hand luggage. Our suitcases had not beenunloaded from the plane but the hotel furnished us withtoothbrushes, toiletries, and terry cloth bathrobes.
We looked forward to an evening of watching TV on thenew color set and then an early bedtime. Both of uschanged into our hotel provided robes. We sat side byside on the couch with a thermos flask of hot coffee,sipping from our cups while we watched the TV movie. Iremember that it was the first James Bond film, “Dr.No.”
Andrea and I flipped a coin to choose which one of thetwin beds we wanted and who would take a shower first. Iwon on the shower, lost on the choice of beds. Theshower was very refreshing after our long day. Andreafussed around, doing the things that women do whilewaiting for me to finish, then, carrying a couple ofclean towels, entered the bathroom as I exited.
In a short while Andrea stepped out of the shower withher terry cloth robe wrapped around her.
“Len,” she said. “We have to talk about our sleepingarrangements. I’m a bit hesitant to say this but Ialways sleep in the nude. I’ve done it ever since I wasa child. A nightgown always bunches up and the wrinklesirritate me.”
“Don’t let it bother you,” I replied. “I promise I won’tlook.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m sure you’ve seen anaked woman before and I’m not embarrassed. It’s mybreasts. They may seem a little strange.” She paused fora while as if deciding what to do, then she opened herrobe and said, “Here, see what I mean.”
Her breasts looked strange indeed. They were huge fleshymounds hanging from her chest. Each one was as big as a5 pound sack of sugar and about as round. They lookedlike they belonged on a woman two, maybe three timesAndrea’s petite size. Unsupported, the well formedmammaries hung down below her belly button. When she satdown on the edge of the bed the ends of her breastsrested against her thighs. It wasn’t that the breastssagged. They were just very big and heavy. Very bigindeed. There was a lot of meat packed inside them.Andrea’s breasts were tipped with red areolas the sizeof saucers. In the center of each was a thimble sizednipple. In all other respects Andrea was a veryattractive woman. She was very well toned, had anintelligent perky face, sparkling eyes, a narrow waistand great legs.
Some men are leg men, some are ass men, and some are titmen. I confess to being a bit all all three but I’mbasically a leg man. Even in high school I would try towalk up the stairs behind a particularly attractive girlso I could sneak a look at her legs. Andrea’s legs werecertainly sexy. Her narrow ankles led to full and nicelyshaped calves. Her thighs were well muscled pillars offlesh that terminated in a compact rounded butt. Indeed,I would give her legs 9 out of 10. But tonight Andreas’sbreasts were all that I could see. Now I’m of the “morethan one mouthful is a waste” school but Andrea’sbreasts were overwhelming. Some things are impressivebecause of sheer size. The Saturn 5 booster wasimpressive. So were her breasts.
“You see my problem,” Andrea said. “I have really bigboobs. My doctor said that it was technically virginalbreast hypertrophy. It’s the reason I dress the way Ido. I’ve got to hide them or most people will treat meas just a pair of tits and won’t take me seriously. Ihad to show them to you up front because there wasn’t aghost of a chance that you wouldn’t see them tonight.And I want to keep working with you. So look. Get it outof your system. You can even touch them if you want. Ithink of my boobies as body parts like hands or feet. Ipromise I won’t be offended. It would be just likeshaking my hand.”
“Andrea, you look fine. I can’t say that I’m notinterested. What normal guy wouldn’t be interested? ButI respect your abilities and how much you havecontributed to the program too much to let my maledesires get in the way. Sleep nude if you want. I’llkeep strictly to my side of the room.”
“I’m glad you feel that way but I have another problem.I leak. I started lactating in my early 20s because of ahormone abnormality. The doctor called it a mild case ofgalactorrhea. She said that a lot of women have thisproblem. One day my breasts just started to drip milk.It was just a few drops at first, then slowly increased.Now it’s an amount typical of a breastfeeding mother.And before you ask, I’ve never been pregnant.”
“The doctor explained that the condition was due to ahormone excess probably related to my breast size. Shesaid that it would diminish with time. It wasn’tdangerous or anything. Just annoying. At first I triedsimply absorbing the drips with breast pads but after awhile the flow became too much. Now I have to milkmyself a couple of times a day or it gets painful. Doyou mind if I do it now? You can watch if you want. It’snot gross or anything.”
“No, I don’t mind.” I said. But my curiosity got thebetter of me. “In fact I would like to see you do it ifit won’t embarrass you.”
I don’t know what I thought she would do. Perhaps use apurse sized breast pump. I didn’t expect what sheactually did. Frankly, I was surprised.
Andrea simply pushed her robe aside and raised her rightboob. My eyes popped. I was startled by the fact thatshe did it so nonchalantly. A tiny drop of milk oozedout of the tip of the turgid nipple.
Andrea grasped her dripping breast with both hands andlifted it up. It was almost too big to hold in her smallhands. She gazed admiringly at the swollen nipple anddug her fingers into the mound of breast flesh. Thismade the nipple bulge even more. She grasped her nipplebetween her fingers and massaged it vigorously.
Her fingers pressed the bulging areola and a thin streamof milk emerged from the nipple. Without a moment’shesitation, Andrea raised the end of her breast to hermouth, wrapped her lips around the nipple, and startedsucking. I could see her cheeks hollow and swell.Driblets of milk escaped from the corners of her mouth.Finally she had to stop to take a breath.
“See, ” Andrea said. “It’s really leaking. I may havewaited too long to empty it. Would you like some milk inyour coffee? I know I would.” Her last remarks reallyshocked me. But, I’m sure that Andrea felt “In for apenny, in for a pound.”
She leaned over and squeezed the end of her tittie,squirting a stream of mother’s milk into her coffee cup.I’m sure I had a startled look on my face. I stoppedAndrea before she could do my cup.
“I like my coffee black.” I paused for a while, then mycuriosity got the better of me and I asked, “What doesit taste like? I don’t remember ever tasting humanmilk.”
“Well, it tastes like…” She hesitated a moment, thensaid, “I can’t describe it. Why don’t you come over hereand find out?” She sat down on the couch and patted theseat next to her. “Come over here.”
I staggered over in a daze and sat next to her. She heldher huge naked breast up with both hands and offered itto me.
“Now put my nipple in your mouth and start sucking.Don’t bite me though.”
The large nipple was stiff in anticipation. It wasnearly an inch long and half an inch thick. She put ahand behind my head and placed her nipple in my gapingmouth. I felt the rough nipple with my tongue and closedmy lips around it. I sucked like through a straw butnothing came out.
“You have to squeeze the flesh around the nipple againstthe roof of your mouth with your tongue for the milk tostart.” She coached. “That’s how the babies do it. It’sjust like milking a cow.”
Well, it’s not quite like milking a cow. I had milkedcows before on my uncle’s dairy farm in Wisconsin.Andrea’s nipples were nothing like cow’s teats. A cow’steat is long and slim and the milk can be stripped outof it by pulling and squeezing your hand. Andrea’snipple was red and turgid, like the cherry on top of anice cream sundae. I wrapped my lips around it, andfollowing her instructions, pressed her nipple and titflesh against the roof of my mouth with my tongue.
I was rewarded with a stream of milk. She pressed myhead into her breast as I sucked. Although I startedtentatively, I was really getting into it. I sucked sostrongly that I thought that I would swallow her wholeboob. That would have been a tough job.
Andrea’s milk was warm, thin, and quite sweet with avaguely bitter aftertaste. It tasted a bit like meltedvanilla ice cream without the vanilla. I don’t know whatI expected but I rather enjoyed her flavor. “Of course,you idiot,” I thought to myself. “It has to taste goodso babies will like it.”
I flicked Andrea’s nipple from side to side with mytongue. My lips opened wider and I sucked more of hertit flesh into my mouth, still rubbing the nipple withmy tongue. I think I might have gotten most of herareola in. As I sucked, squirts of milk splashed into mythroat and I had to swallow repeatedly.
I could feel my teeth lightly pressing against thesurface as Andrea allowed her breast to slip slowly outof my mouth. Then I sucked it back in, my teeth closingslightly as I started nibbling on the nipple. I had toopen my mouth a bit to swallow and catch a breath. Thewet breast slipped from my mouth until the engorgednipple caught on my teeth and kept the breast fromsliding entirely out. My tongue kept up its motion as Ichewed. Andrea moaned in delight.
When the milk from the first breast was exhausted Andreasubstituted the other breast. The switch was almostseamless. I was almost in a daze, my head buried inbreast meat, totally occupied with sucking andswallowing. Andrea’s breast was full and meaty. Both ofmy hands were barely enough to encircle it. I pulled thestiff nipple tightly into my mouth.
As I nursed her I became aware that I had a ragingerection. It pushed a tent in my robe. I hoped Andreawouldn’t notice. No such luck. Andrea’s free handexplored my body. I felt her fingers on my waist, mybutt, and on my robe over my penis. She fished out myhard cock and began stroking. It was so matter of factthat I had no time to pull back.
I was primed to explode. With a few strong strokes Ierupted, spewing cum over her hand. I’m sure she couldtell the instant I came by the way my jaw clamped downon her tit. She held me even tighter to her chest as Icontinued to suck. Finally the milk supply from bothbreasts was exhausted. We both sat up, her nakedmammaries hanging obscenely out of her robe, my now limpcock protruding from my own robe.
“I’m sorry for the way I behaved,” I said. “It’s reallyunlike me. I just got carried away.”
“It’s all my fault,” Andrea said as she stuffed her wetboobs back into her robe. “I started the whole thing.And I enjoyed your mouth on my nipple. You really doknow how to milk a cow. I liked how you did it.”
We talked for a while but we simply danced around thetopic. I knew that before the evening was over I wouldfuck Andrea. She knew it too but we were bound byconvention to observe the proprieties. She took off herrobe and exposed both of her breasts in their entirety.These were not the breasts of a nymphet but mature,sexual boobs promising hours of erotic pleasure. She puther hands under them, offering them to me as if she wasgiving me a precious gift.
My cock was already starting to erect again. Andrea hadsomething more interesting in mind than having me justnibble on her boobs. Dropping to her knees, she grabbedmy cock and jammed it into her mouth. She stroked andsucked, giving me my first good blowjob in over a year.And it was one of the best ones. My cock became hard asiron.
She was going to make me cum again. But before I came, Igrasped her under the arms and pulled her up, liftingher like a baby. I deposited her in the middle of thebed. It was the one she had selected after winning thecoin toss. She spread her legs and raised her arms tome, welcoming me to her body.
Andrea’s hand guided my cock to its target. It pushedher wet pussy lips apart as I penetrated her cunt. Nohesitation. I just plunged into her. She wrapped herlegs around me and pulled me to her with her strongcalves, so far that my cock bottomed, our pubic bonescollided. Her clit was being massaged by long strokes ofmy penis. I felt Andrea’s left breast start to leak. Itwas the one that had not been fully emptied. She pushedthe nipple to my mouth. What a wonderful feeling,fucking and sucking at the same time.
It had been a long time since I had fucked a woman likethis. Fucked, fucked, YES!! That was my hard cock in hercunt. Andrea had marvelous muscle control of her pussy.Her well lubricated vagina clutched and massaged mypenis as I thrust in and out. Much better than a handjob. YES!!
Andrea was being royally fucked. Just as I suspect shewanted to be. My first climax of the evening had takenthe urgency out of my passion and I was now in it forthe long haul. I tried to play it cool. It was all Icould do not to shout for joy. I knew that I was goingto ejaculate soon. My body began to respond almostautomatically.
I could feel Andrea squirming beneath me. She jammed herbreast tighter into my mouth, squeezing the end with herhand to force the nipple deep down my throat. Her legswrapped around me, her beautiful calves pressed on myback, forcing me deeper into her. “Suck me harder,” shecried. “Harder. Suck my big titties. Don’t be gentle. Mytitties love it! Bite me! Chew me! Yes, YES!!”
Andrea clutched me tighter. Her body began to shake. Shebucked. She screamed, “OH MY GOD! DO IT TO ME! FUCK ME!FUCK ME! I’M GOING TO CUM! OH FUCK! I’M STARTING TO CUM!FUCK, FUCK! I’M CUMMING! I’M CUMMING RIGHT NOW! YES,YES! I’M CUUUMMMING! YES, YES!!”
So much for being cool. We both came in the mother ofall climaxes. The orgasm of a lifetime. Andrea graspedmy head between her hands and kissed me passionately.
“Thank you Len. Thank you,” she managed to gasp as shesnuggled in my arms.
Just to prove that it wasn’t a fluke, we waited a whileto catch our breath then fucked each other again. Everyscientist knows that you have to repeat an experiment totest its validity. The results were exactly the same.This time I anticipated Andrea’s earthquake when sheclimaxed and held on tight. I concentrated on hittingher G-spot, driving my penis against the front wall ofher vagina. Andrea screamed even louder when sheorgasmed. YES!!!
About midnight we decided we needed some refreshments.The restaurant was closed so we raided the mini bar.Andrea said her breasts needed emptying every fourhours. Her huge boobs forced us to improvise a sexualposition not mentioned in the Kama Sutra. To accommodateour love making and breast milking at the same timeAndrea sat in my lap facing me, skewered on my hardpenis. She raised one of her nipples to my mouth and theother to her own mouth.
We fucked each other gently while we cooperativelyfeasted on her milk. Andrea seemed to enjoy nursing fromher mammoth tit as much as I enjoyed nursing on itssister. I’m sure that some men, and a few women as well,might think that drinking human milk is yucky but, as Isaid, I rather liked the taste. And, of course I likedthe container that Andrea’s milk came in.
I’ve got to say that simultaneously fucking and suckingAndrea was the single most erotic experience of my life.Even after fondling them for half the night, I couldn’tget over the size of Andrea’s tits. Andrea loved thefact that I appreciated her huge breasts as well. Shesaid that that many of her dates were turned off bythem.
Andrea sat on her bed, her body propped against severalpillows resting against the headboard. Both of us werenude. We had been making love for four hours and wererelaxing for a few moments. Her legs were bent, kneeselevated. I was lying with my head on her lap, in thevalley made by her stomach and her raised thighs. Myhead was cushioned by her pubic mound. Her nipples sweptover my face as she moved her body. I fondled herbreasts, circling them, feeling their weight.
I managed to capture one of Andrea’s nipples in my mouthand gently tongued the end. Andrea moved the othernipple between my lips and asked me to suck on them bothat the same time. She said that it was stereo eroticismand she liked the way it felt. She would do it toherself whenever she got the chance.
After consuming the entire contents of the mini bar wetalked to each other in a way that we would never dowhen sober. Thankfully the airline was picking up thetab.
Andrea and I must have been more than a little drunkwhen she told me how much she loved playing with herboobies. And who wouldn’t I thought. She would hold herbig breasts in her arms, gathering them close to herbody. She stroked their surfaces, kissing them, pettingthem like puppies, just loving them. Body parts or not,she enjoyed using them for her pleasure.
I had to agree. If I was a woman and had breasts likethat, I would use them myself every night. I would hugthem, caress them, rub the nipples until they got hard.Then I would suck the nipples raw. Probably, if I wereAndrea, I would play with my cunt too until I came.
She talked freely about the problems of having outsizedbreasts. She felt that there was no male parallel tohaving a set of large boobs sticking out of the front ofyour chest. Men just didn’t appreciate the problem. Hertitties were heavy. So heavy that she sometimes lost herbalance if she moved too quickly. She said that therewas no comfortable way to sleep with boobs as big ashers. Lying on her stomach was difficult. She could layon her side and stretch a breast up to her mouth andgently tongue the nipple.
Andrea felt that since her breasts dominated her lifeshe would damned well get some pleasure out of them.After she started lactating she would nurse from her ownboobies and massage her clitoris until she came. Shefound that one thing good about having such big tits isthat she could suck them easily. That was a side benefitof her condition her doctor didn’t tell her about. Shediscovered it on her own.
She talked quietly, almost a confession, telling me ofher life as a female engineer in the space program. Mostwomen were secretaries or assistants. A woman in theengineering ranks was treated as an anomaly. Sort oflike a talking dog. Her life was one of quietfrustration. Few senior engineers considered hercompetent. She was never given any responsibility. Shehad dates with men in the program but was largelyignored in the work environment.
She was not used to being ignored. In order to cope withher frustration she took matters into her own hand.Giving herself a climax became her solution to life’slittle crises. The climaxes were roughly like hittingthe reset button on her mind. Sort of an instant dose oftranquilizer. If she had an argument with her coworkers,if she couldn’t solve a problem at work, if her bankaccount didn’t balance, if she misplaced her car keys,she relieved her frustration by retiring to her room ora locked stall in the woman’s lavatory and givingherself a quick orgasm. Andrea said that there was noemotional involvement in her autoerotic behavior. It wassimply physical therapy.
She said that while she masturbated frequently it wasmerely in response to the stresses of the job. Some ofthe NASA engineers ate to excess, some drank too much.Andrea regarded her cunt as her safety valve.
Eventually, Andrea said, she was given more and moreresponsible assignments. Despite her sex she waselevated in rank and eventually reached her presentmanagement position. She found it useful to play downher feminine attributes and deliberately adopt a dowdyappearance.
Andrea continued her quiet monolog. “I developed early.I started having my periods when I was 11. By that timemy breasts were almost C cup size. By the time I was 12they were D cups. And they went on from there. Mom andmost of my aunts had outsized busts and told me that Iwould get used to mine in time.”
She paused, then she giggled a bit at what must havebeen a humorous memory. “It was a bit weird for a girlmy age to have such big tits. Mom had to shop for me inthe husky boy’s department at Sears. I could fitordinary girl’s jeans but I had to wear shirts made forfat boys. When I started wearing bras Mom had to shop inthe matron’s section of the woman’s department to get meproperly fitted.”
“In high school I used to hate my boobies because Icouldn’t wear all those cute clothes that wereadvertised in Seventeen. I even considered breastreduction surgery but I hated the thought of a surgeontaking a knife to my endowments. The surgery wouldreduce the size of my boobs to normal proportions but Iwould also lose a lot of erotic sensitivity.
I couldn’t accept the idea of simply chopping off theends of my tits. I had nightmares about the doctorsimply putting my mammoth breasts on a paper cutter andslamming the blade down while I watched the ends of myboobies drop into the wastebasket below. The nightmaremade me give up any thought of reduction surgery.Besides I was learning to accommodate to my breasts.After a while I began to enjoy them.”
“My growing boobs got me noticed by the boys. Sometimesthey went out of their way to brush against me in acrowded hallway and grab a feel of my titties. I wassurprised that the boys liked my breasts. I liked totouch them in bed at night and my nipples felt good whenI rubbed and squeezed them gently. But while I liked toplay with my own titties, I couldn’t figure out why theboys liked them. They couldn’t feel what I felt.”
“By the time I was a junior in high school my breastshad grown even bigger. I found that if I lowered my heada bit and pulled my breast upward I could get my nipplesinto my mouth. Sucking on my own nipples changed mybedtime behavior. Licking and chewing my boobies feltvery good. My nightly ritual was to eat my tittie andplay with my pussy until I had a climax. I often went tosleep with one of my own nipples between my lips. It waslike a baby with a pacifier.”
“After I began to have sex I began to really like myoversized boobies. My dates would play with them andlick the nipples. Sometimes they used them as reins whenthey fucked me. My cunt was normal for a teen aged girl.I discovered that I liked being fucked. I never saw whatthe big deal about being a virgin was anyway. I thoughtit was stupid to deny yourself all that pleasure just soyou could prove to your prospective husband that noother cock had been in your cunt before. He had probablybanged dozens of other girls himself before he met you.
I liked it when boys fucked me from behind, pulling mybody back and forth with my big boobies. I even liked tograb my nipples and pull my boobs really hard just likethe boys did. I still do. You know, my boobs are so bigthat I bet that I could stretch them far enough to fuckmyself with my nipple.”
“No way,” I replied, sitting up. “I’d have to see you doit before I would believe it. Your breasts are big but Idon’t think they are that big. You might be able totouch your clit with your nipple but I don’t think youcould pull it down enough to actually put it in yourvagina. I’ll bet you anything you want that you can’t doit.”
“Well,” slurred Andrea, “I’ve never tried to fuck myselfwith my tittie before so it’s really an experiment. Theonly way for us to find out if I can do it is for me totry it. I’ll have fun trying.”
Andrea stood up, fluffed her hair, stretched and bentover a few times as if to loosen herself up. When sheleaned over to touch her toes, her nipples almostreached the floor as soon as her fingers. Her breastswere amazing.
“Now for the big experiment.”
Andrea resumed her seat on her bed with her back againstthe headboard. She raised her hips as far as she couldand leaned forward dropping her left shoulder. This puther left nipple below the level of her now engorgedclit. It didn’t quite reach far enough to bend backwardand insert into her cunt. She could pull it down withher hands but the moment she released it and it sprangback. She needed both hands for what she had in mind.What to do?
Andrea pulled the soft terry cloth belt off of herbathrobe and looped it twice around her dangling boob.She pulled it tight and knotted it. Binding her breastworked just as she expected. The end bulged like a waterballoon and stretched the tit at least two more inches.She reached down with her left hand and tugged up underher left thigh. Her yoga practice must have kept Andreaquite flexible and now it paid off. Her nipple was nowwell below clit level. She paused for a moment, admiringthe fact that she could bend so far.
The end of her breast was between her thighs and she aspressed them together the end bulged out still further.Still pulling on her left thigh with her left hand shereached her right hand beneath her legs and clutched theend of her tit. By bending it backwards she could easilyrub her nipple on her clit.
“Oh wow! That feels good. I’ll have to remember that.”
Andrea grasped the stiff nipple of her left breast andpulled it out as far as she could. And then she did it.She stuffed the nipple and a bit of her areola into herwet cunt holding it there with her fingers. Her rightmiddle finger penetrated her cunt and pushed the nipplein farther. Andrea worked the nipple with her middlefinger moving it in and out slightly. The breast flesharound her areola massaged her clitoris with itsmovements.
She turned her face to me, obviously proud of what shecould do. She tried to smile but there was a look ofbarely controlled sexual tension in her eyes. She wasobviously trying to hold back an orgasm.
Her finger motions became more and more aggressive, hernipple harder and harder. The nipple was now well intoher cunt and the little bumps of her areola were rubbingagainst her engorged clit. Between Andrea’s gasps ofpleasure I could hear the squishy noises that the nipplemade moving in and out of the vagina. The turgid nipplewas making love to her receptive clitoris.
Andrea pulled herself down further with her left handand shoved more and more of her areola into her cunt.Everything was well lubricated from her natural moistureand the few drops of milk streaming from her torturedtit. The fingers of her right hand beat a tattoo on bothher breast and the swollen vaginal lips.
“I’m really doing it,” she managed to say. “I’m fuckingmyself with my own tit.” She continued to work thenipple in and out. Then she turned to me and talkedquietly, almost in a whisper, “Oh, it feels so good!. Mytitty and clitty are kissing each other. Fucking eachother. I love it!. It’s from both ends of me. I can’tbelieve I can actually fuck myself with my own tit. Whata turn on!”
The signs of a coming climax were all over her body,slow at first because of her awkward position, thenbecoming more and more intense. I could see thevibrations of her legs on the end of the tit capturedbetween her thighs. Her calves tensed, pointing hertoes.
She tried to prolong the moment but her fingers keptmoving out of her control. Faster and harder. Faster andharder. Thighs squeezing her breast. Waves of breastflesh rippled over her extended boob. Nipple rubbedagainst clitoris. Andrea made a noise like a catwhimpering. It looked like she could barely stand thepleasure. She would cum in just a few more seconds. ThenAndrea’s legs spasmed and she exploded in a massiveclimax, uncoiling from her cramped position like areleased spring.
“I did it!” Andrea shouted as she lay splayed out on thebed. She had a bit of a finger bruise on her thigh fromthe tightness of her grip. After a short rest she sat upshe brought her abused nipple to her mouth and savoredthe combined taste of milk and pussy juices. Andrea shuther eyes and breathed deeply. Then she turned to me andheld out her arms.
“It’s your turn now, big boy. I won the bet. You saidyou would do anything I asked. Pay off by fucking me sohard I can’t stand.”
Andrea’s sex show had made my cock as hard as it hadever been. In retrospect, I know that she had intendedto seduce me but I was certainly a willing victim. I’llnever know if it was a maneuver to ingratiate herselfwith her boss or to amuse herself during the hours ofsnowbound delay. Clearly I had fallen for one of thestandard plots of porn fiction. You know the one, thelactating woman on a trip who finds her breasts swellingso badly that she has to find some accommodating man whowill suck the milk out of her titties. I was that man.
But all that was irrelevant. No matter what her originalintent, Andrea got caught in her own trap. Our sexualpleasure was so intense that the original purpose forthe seduction was forgotten. We made love to each otherin an almost manic fashion, each pulling orgasms out ofthe other’s body when we should have been totallyexhausted. We were two animals in heat. I ate her cunt.She sucked my cock. We fucked again and again, literallyquivering in repeated ecstacy. It was a marathon of sex.The best ever for both of us. We never used my bed atall.
Our night long orgy was interrupted by a wakeup call thenext morning. It wasn’t truly a wakeup call since wehadn’t slept at all the entire night. It informed usthat the runways at National Airport in Washington hadbeen cleared and our flight would take off in two hours.Just in time to dress, have breakfast and make theplane. The flight back was uneventful. After we landedAndrea and I went our separate ways. Her onlyacknowledgment of our shared adventure was a peck on thecheek and a whisper in my ear, “Thank you SO much forlast night.”
The funny thing about our brief affair was that beforebeing grounded in Chicago I never thought about Andreain a sexual way. I respected her as a professional andthat was it. After we got back to Washington we met inmeetings but neither of us contacted the other for arepeat performance. I guess it was always on the table.We exchanged knowing glances from time to time. Butnothing ever happened. Still I’m sure Andrea and I willboth remember that snowbound night forever.
After my return to DC I received an offer from a NewYork university to head up a newly formed engineeringdepartment. I would be appointed a tenured professorwith a significant research budget. It was an offer thatwas too good to pass up. I left NASA for New York. TheGemini project was just about completed anyway.
And that’s how the voyage to the moon was launched.
TWO YEARS LATER:
A couple of years after I accepted the professorship inNew York I was invited to give the keynote lecture at aconference on space exploration. To my great surpriseAndrea was one of the conference organizers. After Igave my speech I was invited to a small cocktail partygiven by the organizing committee. I shook everyone’shand, including Andrea’s. She looked almost the same asshe did two years ago. Attractive, proper and dressed inunfashionable clothes. I realized that I was only one ofthe few people in the room that knew what was underthose clothes.
Andrea knew, of course, and perhaps one or two men thatshe had favored with her voluptuous body. I felt twingeof jealousy. I hoped that there were not too many. Itwas a little difficult to talk to Andrea at the party. Ihad no classes the next day and Andrea’s portion of theconference was over. Since she had to remain in townuntil the wrap up at the end of the week she had acouple of free days. She told me that she intended tospend them shopping and perhaps catch a Broadway show. Itook the hint and invited her to lunch.
The first few minutes of our lunch were awkward. We hada bit of catching up to do, tracing all our mutualfriends who had left NASA. What made it more difficultfor me was that I couldn’t take my eyes off Andrea’sbodice. I wished for Superman’s x-ray vision to catch aview of her massive mammaries. Andrea couldn’t help butnotice.
“Len,” she said, with a bit of annoyance in her voice,“I’m up here. Not down there. Look me in the face whenyou talk to me.”
I was properly chastised. I tried to carry on my end ofthe conversation but after that rebuke I couldn’t thinkof anything to say that wouldn’t sound sexist. FinallyAndrea took pity on me.
“This isn’t like you. You seem so uptight. I know thatyou were thinking of my boobs when I scolded you. Theyare just the same as they ever were. Big and dripping.You know all about them. And to answer the question thatyou obviously want to ask, I’ve let a few other men usethem over the last two years. You didn’t put your brandon them, you know. Just a few tooth marks.”
Her last words made my stomach sink. I experienced amixture of intense jealousy and a bit of relief. I hatedthe guts of the guys who played with her tits after Imoved to New York. How dare they touch Andrea’s tits. Onthe other hand I was relieved that she had just a fewlovers. In the same period I had been intimate with anumber of women. Still, I had developed the unreasonablebelief that everything connected to Andrea was mine.
Andrea continued, “Now why don’t you relax for a whileand stop thinking about my breasts. They are just bigblobs of meat. But they belong to me. I can do what Iwant with them. Have a drink or two, and meet me abouteight tonight for a late night snack in my hotel room.We can talk then. I’m at the Regency, room 766. In themeantime I’ll go shopping.” We said goodbye and went ourseparate ways.
I dithered around all the remainder of the afternoon. Itwas the Spring break and we had no classes that week. Ididn’t really want to see Andrea and restart what wouldeventually result in a frustrating situation. She and Iwere two different people, each with our own careeragenda. No good could come of it. On the other hand Iwas obsessed with her boobs. I had to experience theirmagnificence again just to make sure that my memories oftwo years ago were not an alcohol fueled fantasy. Onelook and perhaps a touch wouldn’t hurt. She would bereturning to Washington in a couple of days.
So that night I headed for Andrea’s hotel room carryinga bottle of good Scotch, a brand I remembered she liked.Andrea was dressed casually in jeans and a loose man’sshirt. I handed her the bottle and she went to thefridge to get ice cubes and a splash of seltzer. Roomservice knocked on the door five minutes after I arrivedcarrying a tray with a couple of steak sandwiches andtrimmings. I tried to pay the bill but the porter toldme that NASA had already paid for it. I tipped himgenerously.
And there we were, Andrea and I sitting on the largesofa. I spoke first. “Andrea, I would like to apologizefor my rude behavior this afternoon. I acted like acollege sophomore, maybe even like a college freshman. Ihope you will forgive me.”
“No problem, Len. Look – I know you wanted to see myboobs. I’m used to it by now. If I wear anything theleast bit revealing when I walk down the street, menwill follow me for blocks just to see my titties bounce.If I go to the beach in an ordinary bathing suit, acluster of dirty minded men will hang around hoping Ihave a wardrobe malfunction. So what you did was hardlyout of the ordinary. I just over reacted. Now let’s eatour sandwiches and relax with each other.” Andrea wasbeing her very direct self. She simply said what shemeant.
Surprisingly enough we did relax. The steak sandwicheswere excellent and a couple of Scotch and sodas washedthem down well. Andrea and I sat next to each on thesofa and talked over old times. The Gemini, the spacecraft we both worked on was a great success and theApollo was flying around the Moon.
Many of the engineers that worked with us had gone offto much higher paying defense jobs. My direct boss hadeven become Assistant Secretary of Defense. Sometimeduring the middle of our conversation Andrea movedcloser to me. We kept talking but the distance betweenus was shrinking. Finally we were sitting shoulder toshoulder. I rose to refresh our drinks.
As I handed Andrea her glass she turned to me and said,“You know, Len, I wish you had put your brand on mytits. I told you that I let a few guys use them afterour snowbound night. That much is true, but I said itmostly to make you jealous.
I like having sex but few of my dates had the slightestidea of how to make love to me. They didn’t know what todo with breasts like mine. They had no imagination. Allthey wanted to do was stick their cocks in me. Most ofthe time I had to keep my bra on when I let guys fuckme. My tits just freak most men out.”
“The wonderful thing is that even though you and I onlyspent one night together we figured out right away whatturned the other on. It never happened to me like thatbefore.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say after that soliloquyso I took Andrea in my arms and kissed her. The kissmight have been a spur of the moment inspiration for mebut Andrea took advantage of it right away. She put herarms around me and kissed me back. One of my hands foundher ass and pulled her close. Except I couldn’t stand asclose to her as would have liked. Andrea’s breastsformed a barrier as formidable as the Maginot Line.Which as I recall wasn’t that formidable after all.
I finally managed to say, “Andrea, you said somethingabout me putting my brand on your breasts. I’m not surehow I would go about it but I’d like to try. What do Ido?”
She paused or a while, thinking. “Before you answer,Andrea, I think I need another drink. Can I get you onetoo?” She nodded.
We started on our fourth drink of the evening and I wasbeginng to feel a bit woozy. I remembered that Andreabecame more uninhibited the more she drank
“Len, for a bright college professor you are really adummy. I’ll spell it out for you. You have to get yourhands on my tits before you can do anything. I’m notsure I’m going to let you do that. I’m still prettyangry at you. But if I let you touch me you will have torub my big breasts all over and get my nipples hard.Then you will have to suck all the milk out of myboobies.
“Yes, Len. I’m still lactating. After that you will haveto take me to bed and fuck me so hard that I’ll forgetthat you haven’t called me for two years. Think you canhandle all that? When we finish we can discuss brandingmy tits.”
Could I handle it? Probably not. So I did the only thingI could think of. I kissed her again. This time slowlyand passionately. And, to my surprise, I absolutelymeant it. I had grown more than a little fond of Andreain the years that I had known her. I just had toconvince her.
“Before we can even think of starting, I have to get outof this shirt. It itches but it hides my boobies. Andwhile I’m doing that, I think you should get out of yourstreet clothes. Branding my breasts might get messy.”
She stood up and unbuttoned the plaid shirt and shruggedit off her shoulders. Her bra was the next obstacle. Itwas a real piece of engineering. I used to think thatrocket scientists were clever but bra designers are atthe top of the heap. Andrea’s mammaries stressed thefabric in all directions. Support lines woven into thematerial contained the flesh yet didn’t restrain hermovements. At least not too much. It was a BrooklynBridge of a bra. Andrea saw my appreciative gaze. Shesmiled as only another engineer would.
“Do you like my breast bucket, Len? I did the stressanalysis myself. It’s a real job isn’t it? I have to getthe bras specially made.”
Andrea fumbled a bit with the snaps and her breastsswung free, astounded to be in the open air. They wereas huge as I remembered. Magnificent but huge. My mindhad not played tricks on me. She stood tall letting herbreasts hang to their full length. Unsupported hernipples reached below her belly button. As I watched, alittle drop of milk collected at the end of one of thenipples. Andrea’s breasts were a wonder of the world. Atleast of my world.
“Now let’s see if you remember how to use thesetitties.”
She sat on the sofa next to me, still wearing her jeans.I ran my hands hands down the length of her breastsmarveling at the texture. My hands could barely reacharound one. Her boobs were heavy, so heavy that Andreacould do damage swinging them from side to side. Iwouldn’t be surprised if they were prehensile. Sort oflike an elephant’s trunk. I think I must be getting alittle drunk.
But drunk or not, I knew that Andrea had to be nursed orher tits would soon spew milk. I raised the end ofAndrea’s breast to my mouth. It was the one I sawleaking. Her tittie rewarded me with the taste ofmother’s milk, although technically it was just Andrea’smilk since she hadn’t been a mother yet. I nibbledaround the turgid nipple to start the flow. Andrea puther arm around my head and hugged me close.
“Thank you so much, Len. I really need to be emptied.You haven’t lost your touch. Yes, milk me. Drain me.”
I swallowed a mouthful, then in the middle of a suck Ihad a better idea. I dropped her bountiful breast andsat up.
“Andrea,” I asked, “can you milk yourself?”
“Of course, why do you ask?”
I reached over to the coffee table and retrieved our twoempty drink glasses. They were ordinary 8 ounce glasstumblers. The kind found in every motel and hotel in thecountry.
“Andrea, what I would like you to do is empty yourbreasts into these glasses. Try to get the same amountin each. I’ll help. I’ll do one while you do the other.I think we will need each glass half full. That’s abouthalf a pint total. Do you think your breasts can givethat much?”
She thought for a while. “I never measured how muchcould give but I think half a pint sounds reasonable. Mylactation doesn’t seem to be slowing down. I’ll probablykeep dripping for another ten years. At least untilmenopause. I’ve got tits like a cow.”
I put a drinking glass under one nipple and, using thetechnique I learned on my uncle’s Wisconsin farm,started stripping Andrea’s bountiful boob. I wrappedboth hands around the end of her breast and startedcompressing my fingers down towards the nipple. A thinstream of milk emerged to be collected in the drinkingglass. She did the other. We sat side beside on thesofa.
Andrea leaned a bit forward so that her nipples werecentered over the collection glasses. Both of usassiduously milked her breasts. It was not an eroticmoment. More like a bovine one. But I had accomplishedmy psychological objective. I had turned the situationfrom one in which I was a lovelorn swain pleading for atouch of her body into an engineering problem of how todrain her breasts efficiently.
Regardless of the fact that they were her tits, Andreawas enough of an engineer that such a challenge couldnot be ignored. We were cooperating on achieving thesame objective and were on an equal status again. But Ialso had my hands on her tits. I took every opportunityto caress them gently and lovingly. My fingers lingeredon her nipple. To put it bluntly I was feeling her up.At least feeling her boob up.
“OK, Len. I think we’ve got it all. Now what?” Bothglasses were half filled. Her boobies had indeedproduced a half pint of milk. I’m sure we could havegotten more if we had waited a while but we had enough.
“Andrea, stand up. I’m going to take off your jeans. Oryou can do it yourself. I’ll be back in a few seconds.”
I picked up the two glasses and carried them off to thelittle kitchenette. There was ice in the freezercompartment. I added three cubes to each glass and thenfilled them to the brim with the last of the Scotch. Aquick stir and I carried them back to the coffee table.
Andrea had doffed her jeans and was standing with herlegs slightly apart, clad only in her panties. I hadalmost forgotten how lovely her legs were. Pure columnsof perfection. If it wasn’t for her humongous breastsshe could have been a leg model. But her titsovershadowed all her other attributes. No one noticedher perky intelligent face, twinkling eyes, or her tighttorso except me. I loved her legs.
Offering her a glass, I said “This is a special drink.It is an Andrea’s milk punch. It is inspired by New Yorkpolitico Adam Clayton Powell. He drinks his Scotch in aglass of milk to sooth his ulcers. It tastes delicioustoo. Just like you. Sip it slowly. It has a specialkick.”
Andrea sat down on the sofa, took a sip, smiled, andpatted the seat next to her. I sat down and sipped mydrink. It was delicious indeed. Scotch and Andrea’smilk. What a delightful combination.
We sat side by side, slowly sipping our cocktails. I hadmy arm around her and she leaned heavily on me. I gentlymassaged her back while she made appreciative sounds.She shifted her position a bit so that I could fondleher boobs. Despite her claim that they were just bodyparts, she loved to have them caressed. The saucer sizedareolae that covered the end of each breast seemed tohave darkened a bit but the nipples were just asprominent. She rubbed one of her own nipples and it goteven stiffer.
“Look at my nipple. See how big it is getting. I love mynipples. I could suck and chew on them all day. It’s awonder that I can get anything done. I know you likethem too. I see how you look at them and touch them. Mydoctor says that I have feeding nipples. Most women withbreasts as big as mine have flat nipples. But my nipplesseem to have a good internal structure. Perfect for ababy’s mouth.
“I would like to have babies some day. I want babieshanging off my tits like grapes on a vine. I’ve had justabout enough of shooting things off into space. I wantthings shot into me. I want your sperm in me. I wantyour babies. It’s all I’ve been able to think about forthe last two years. Why didn’t I make you fuck me whenyou were in Washington? Why didn’t you call me?”
The conversation was getting stickier than I intended. Ididn’t know if Andrea was chastising me, propositioningme, or proposing to me. Our drinks were half empty. Itook advantage of a brief pause to arise and say Ineeded more ice. Which I actually did. I took my glassand Andrea’s and went to the kitchenette to add a coupleof ice cubes to each.
When I returned Andrea had taken off her panties and waslying full length on the sofa like a Vegas odalisque.She resembled the Naked Maja painting but had biggertits. She held out her arms to me. This was the visionthat had haunted my memory for the last couple of years.I respected Andrea intellectually but my body simplylusted for her physically. I put down the half filledglasses and buried my face between her legs. I worked myway up her shapely calves, past her strong thighs, toher vulva.
Nipples be damned. I wanted her cunt. In less time thanit takes to tell my tongue was in her vagina lapping upher juices. She closed her thighs around my head andheld me tight. She squirmed under me. She shuddered. Herlegs got stiff. I couldn’t hear very well because myhead was buried in her flesh but I thought I heard hershouting YES, YES!
The next few minutes were rather hazy but somehow weended up on Andrea’s bed in the 69 position. My teethwere nibbling gently on her clitoris and she was givingme a blow job. I still don’t remember how we got there.I might have carried her. Except for her huge tits shewas a tiny thing.
The rest of the evening was a repeat of our marathonorgy of two years ago except that we weren’t nearly asdrunk. We fucked and sucked and fucked some more. Weorgasmed repeatedly, Andrea screaming her passion everytime she climaxed. She didn’t have to repeat herdemonstration of fucking herself with her nipple.
I knew she could do it and I didn’t need anotherperformance. After making love for nearly an hour we satnext to each other in bed – each of us was waiting forthe answer to the unspoken question. “Now what?”
Andrea spoke first. “Len, I enjoyed that a lot, but wasthat it? Was it just for old time’s sake or do you wantto fuck me more? Do we just go our separate ways now?”
I thought a long time before answering. “Andrea, I’veknown you for more than five years. I’ve respected youand cherished your advice as a colleague. We areintellectually compatible. But our intimacy has beenlife changing for me. I’ve never met anyone like you. Ineed you. I don’t know if we love each other yet but Idon’t want to be without you. Now how do we solve thatproblem?”
“We don’t. We just move in together and fuck eachother’s brains out. The problem will solve itself intime. I had a very wise old aunt that explained allabout love to me. It was when I never thought that Iwould ever find a love like in the romance novels andmovies. I mean who would ever love me, a wise assmunchkin engineer with freakish tits.
My aunt said, “What do you think love is? It’s not rosepetals and perfume. It’s not walking on air and hearingbells when you kiss. It’s simply two people who tolerateeach other’s company enough to live together for therest of their lives without killing each other.Everything else is frosting on the cake. Take it fromme. I’ve been married four times and I know!”
Andrea left for a few moments to go and wash up. Shecame back holding what remained of our glasses of milkpunch. The ice had melted the ice and the liquid was atroom temperature. She took a sip.
“You know, that’s not half bad. It tastes like analcoholic version of me. I sort of dig the taste. Thetemperature is right too. It’s a cooler than the milkfrom my tit and warmer than milk from the refrigerator.What do you think, Len?”
“Well, if you really must know, this tastes pretty good.I like the milk directly from your breast better butit’s certainly less alcoholic. But before we talk aboutthe quality of your tit milk, I think we should discussour future. Me, I can’t go back to Washington. I have atenured professorship and a long term contract. Dozensof people depend on me. I don’t want a remoterelationship.
“I want to feel you next to me in bed every night. I’mafraid that I would get really paranoid if I couldn’tsee you every day. I never thought that I would be thejealous type but the thought that you let some guys puttheir hands on your boobs makes me furious. Use yourbrilliant mind to find a solution to our dilemma.”
Andrea kissed me. “Thank you for being jealous. I loveit. But we might as well get everything out in the open.I don’t want any secrets between us. We are both adults.We lived for many years before we met. I’m sure thatboth of us did a lot of things that we are notparticularly proud of. It’s a long story and I think youshould know all the details.”
“I know you had a lot of girls before me. I’ve heardthat you fucked almost every skirt in the agency. Thewomen at NASA gossip a lot. And I didn’t exactly keep mylegs crossed either. This has been a test drive for bothof us. I am the way I am and you are the way you are. Idon’t expect that we will make any changes in eachother. What we see is what we will get. If anythingbothers you, now is the time to talk about it.”
“As for my boobs, I once told you that I used to thinkof them just as body parts like a foot or a hand. Youwouldn’t mind me shaking hands with someone, would you?When men used my breasts I treated them as body partstoo. I never got aroused when they handled them. Irecall that when I first showed them to you, I offeredyou the chance to touch them. I have to do that when Ifirst meet a new man otherwise my tits might overwhelmhim. But I never let another man suckle my milk. That’sstrictly between the two of us.”
“But Len, you better get your priorities straight.You’ve told me that you don’t like other people playingwith my boobs. Are having climaxes with other people offlimits too? Should I let guys give me orgasms as long asthey keep their hands off my tits? My vagina is not justa body part. It’s the erotic center of my being. Youfreaked out just because some guys touched my tits. Butyou never called me from New York. I was lonely so I leta few guys grope my tits. I let them fuck me too.”
“Most fucked me more than once. It was the first oliveout of the bottle theory. Once you get that first oliveout the rest come easy. It just saved time. I didn’twant to go through the first date hassle with all thatflirting and being nice just to end up in bed at the endof the evening. I knew it was inevitable. It was whatboth of us wanted. I just cut right to the chase andeliminated the middle stuff.
“If the guy and I were compatible I let him fuck mewhenever he and I dated. We would go out, maybe have afew drinks, and come back to my apartment and make love.No, that sounds too romantic. We just fucked likebunnies. It saved a lot of energy. I could get a decentclimax and then make it to work the next morning ontime. A good engineering solution. The orgasms werepretty good, some even great. I screamed a lot. Theyweren’t as good as those we had together but theysufficed.”
“I even let a few women use me too. You didn’t thinkthat my Georgetown roommates were straight, did you? Titsucking is not just a male obsession. You would besurprised how many women like to play around with bigboobies. I didn’t mind a woman handling my tits. Theyare just body parts, remember.”
“I always hoped that you and I would get together whileyou were still at NASA. After you left I simply let myroommates do whatever they wanted to me. I’m not alesbian, just a horny bitch. I let them suck my tits andeat my cunt. I didn’t give a damn any more. One or theother came to my bed almost every night that I didn’thave a date with some guy. Sometimes both made love tome at the same time.
“Those girls were very imaginative. They masturbatedtheir clits with my nipples, fingered and licked mycunt, finger fucked me and did me in every way theycould think of. And I did the same to them. We couldn’tget pregnant and we could give each other goodclimaxes.”
“As far as work goes, how do you think I got as far as Idid at NASA? Who would give a tiny woman with tits likemine any supervisory responsibility? I worked hard atbeing a good engineer but it didn’t help much. So Isimply fucked my way up the management ladder. After Igot each new job I showed I was competent. I would neverhave made it otherwise. I didn’t have to do it with youbut I did with my first bosses. You know I’m notbasically a nymphomaniac but there were times that Ibehaved like a real slut. Do you still want me now thatyou know the truth?”
“Andrea, you always make sense even when I don’t want tohear it. I’m glad you are so honest. The gossips at NASAwere right. I screwed every woman I had a chance to justlike most of my buddies. And I fucked a few in New Yorktoo. The real reason I never called you was that youoverwhelmed me. I couldn’t supervise you anymore. Iwould have done almost anything to get you back into mybed. It’s not a good position for a supervisor to bein.”
“I didn’t mention your sleeping with people because Iwas caught up in thinking about your breasts. But I hatethe idea that other cocks were in your cunt too and Ireally hate that they gave you orgasms. I’m not going toblame you for it. We had no commitment to each other. Itis your body and you can do what you want with it.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy that you had orgasms. Ijust regret that I wasn’t the one to give them to you.So yes. I still want you. I’m not a plaster saint andneither are you. I guess we are two of a kind exceptthat you have bigger tits than me. We are well matched.We deserve each other.”
Andrea kissed me, “Len, I propose that we set the groundrules so that we forget anything we did in the past. Ican promise you that if we get together I will be allyours. I don’t intend to be with anyone else as long welive together. I don’t want anyone else playing aroundwith your cock either. We can even brand my tits if youlike. As far as I’m concerned our life begins the momentwe decide to live with each other.”
“OK Andrea, I agree. And no more girls for you eitherunless you bring them to bed with us. I likethreesomes.”
“Not a chance! You belong to me now.”
She kissed me again. A long passionate kiss. It was asif we decided to be together without a word being said.When Andrea broke for air she said, “I think I love you.Let’s seal our pact by making love again before anyonechanges their mind. It’s the best spur of the momentcontract binder that I can think of. ”
So we did.
This time our sex was not gentle intercourse or benignlove making. It was out and out lusty carnal fucking. Idrove into her cunt, bottoming my cock on her cervix.Her clitoris was massaged and crushed between our pubicbones. I bit her titties. She squeezed my balls. Wefucked until we were totally exhausted. That nightAndrea screamed her pleasure so loud that the entirehotel floor knew the instant she came. Our orgasms wereintense and lasted seemingly forever. We clutched eachother and held each other tightly until we caught ourbreath.
Finally Andrea sat up and said, “OK, our pact is sealed.It’s the first day of our new life. If you want we canstart looking for a place to live together. I just don’twant you to stop loving me. I suppose we should get evenget married before we have any babies. Just for socialtradition.”
When I first penetrated Andrea’s cunt two years ago, Ithought heaven’s gates had opened. And she confessedthat she felt the same way about me. As a Life Sciencesengineer she had probably deduced that each of usemitted a pheromone that irresistibly attracted us tothe other. It was the glue that held us together. Idon’t know if that is the correct explanation but it isa good working theory.
As I write these words I am reminded of the 1962 Nixon-Kennedy presidential debate. That was the first debatethat was simultaneously broadcast on radio andtelevision. Everyone who heard only the words on theradio was sure that Nixon had won but everyone who sawthe two of them together on television was sure thatKennedy was the victor. Actions spoke louder than words.Kennedy won the election.
That’s the way it seemed to be between Andrea and me.Suppose a TV camera had filmed our entire day. If youjust listened to the sound you would have heard Andreaand me exchange a tepid morning greeting and then spendthe rest of the day arguing. I was boorish, she wascriticizing, both of us were judgmental. Obviously wedisliked each other. But if you watched only the videoyou would have seen that we were drawn together by aninexorable attraction, ultimately ending in bed in eachother’s arms. Which was the truth? They both were.
This was 43 years ago. Men walked on the Moon in 1969.The Space Shuttle was built, launched, and ultimatelyretired. I taught at my university for 35 more years. Asfor Andrea, she moved in to my apartment, then we boughta house together. We fucked and argued, fought, made up,and loved again. Sometimes both at the same time. Manytimes that Andrea and I argued in the middle of apassionate fuck, pausing only to climax and renew ourargument. Often it was about politics. We were on theopposite sides of many social issues.
One evening I was driving my erect penis in and out ofher vagina while she was feeding me her dripping tit. Wewere shivering in ecstasy while at the same time she wastelling me that I had the political values of aNeanderthal. We climaxed simultaneously but neither ofus changed our mind. I’ve heard that “make up” sex isoften the best kind. That’s what much of ours was. Nowonder we enjoyed loving each other so much.
We were both strong minded, opinionated people. Ourarguments were often about stupid things but each of uswould defend our position adamantly. Usually theyoccurred after we had gone to bed or we were in closeproximity. But as we fought, our hands were caressingeach other’s body. Finally when the physical tensionrose to the point where it intruded on what we weresaying to each other, either Andrea or I would say,“Let’s do it.”
Andrea would wrap her sensuous body around mine and herhand or mouth would find my penis. I delighted inclutching Andrea’s big breasts in my arms and chewingher fleshy nipples while she developed a real taste forthe exudations that flowed profusely from my cock. Wenever did anything half heartedly. We gave our all toeach other. When we fucked, we really fucked, moving,plunging, gasping, writhing to mutual climaxes.
We would stop only when we were out of breath,exhausted. It was like a 100 yard dash rather than amarathon. We loved, fucked, sucked and fondled eachother until we each climaxed a couple of times. And whenwe caught our breath, we continued our argument where weleft off. It was like people who live near an airport.When a plane flies overhead, all conversation stops,only to pick up when it is again silent.
And that’s the way it was. We fought and we made love,often both at the same time. We had two lovely children.And yes, we got married along the way. Andrea surprisedme on our wedding night by unveiling her beautifulbreasts. “Hold each boob up and look closely” Andreasaid. On each breast, just above the areola, was a smallcarefully tattooed ring of letters reading “LeonardRuben – private property – no trespassing.” I kissedAndrea passionately and then I kissed each nipple. I hadmy brand on her tits.
I often wondered what the tattoo artist must havethought when he was inscribing the lettering on Andrea’sbreasts. It might have been considered an odd requestbut he probably was used to it. I’ve seen all sorts ofweird tattoos on unusual parts of human bodies.
Andrea’s breasts kept lactating after menopause, wellinto her 60s. After our kids were weaned I enjoyed everydrop as much as she enjoyed suckling me. We used eachother’s bodies in our declining years just as we did inthat memorable snowbound night in Chicago. I feelconfident in saying that Andrea and I never strayedduring our time together. We completely filled eachother’s needs.
Regretfully Andrea passed away a couple of years agoleaving me with only my memories. She was a truly asingular woman and the love of my life.