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I walked out of the Tube station, and saw my host waiting eagerly for me. We walked together through the quiet country estates of outer London, as she led me to her home. So here I was, after a commute of nearly 2 hours into and across the busy capital of the UK, about to enjoy my first ever ABF experience. My excitement was tempered with anxiety — would I learn how to latch on and suckle properly? Would she have advances that I did not reciprocate?
After a few minutes, she returned to the lounge. True to my wishes, she was wearing a lovely pink dressing gown. Gently stroking my hair a little, she calmly took me through to the bedroom, where a large double bed lay waiting. She suggested I remove my clothes, but I opted just to take off my shirt for now — having no sexual intentions, I was planning to keep the trousers on. She pulled back the covers and settled down on her side, with me taking my place beside her. The cover went on top of us, so no one from the street below would see what we were about to do. Tingling with anticipation, I carefully pulled down the top of her faintly-transparent gown to reveal her beautiful breasts — they were larger than her photos had led me to think, and felt warn and soft in my hands.
I fondled them gently to get accustomed to their shape and size, before I reached forward to latch on. Now I knew exactly what the unique bond and attraction of breast suckling is, and I would never forget it. We continued nursing with her on one side for what seemed like only minutes, but a glance at my watch would reveal it had been nearly half-an-hour. Then we changed sides to suckle on her other side. Even now I still kept my trousers on, despite us being snuggled together under the winter covers.
Just like a pen-friend had advised me — breast feeding is instinctive, so my body or subconscious mind had known all along what to do. We paused after two hours for a spot of lunch and a break. So after refreshing ourselves, we returned to the bed for one more nursing session.
As I continued to suckle on her huge, beautiful breasts, I could feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness — all this nursing was making me sleepy! But I forced myself to stay awake — there was no telling how long it might be before I would enjoy this again, and I was determined to savour every second of it.
Towards the end, I could feel her hand on my crotch, wanting to undo my belt. After suckling for nearly 3 hours, all my reservations of letting her see my manhood had gone, so with little hesitation, I reached down to undo my trousers for her. In moments, her hand was reaching under my pants, and she began to play with me. I felt no fear whatsoever — my cheek was cushioned on her delicious breasts that were almost as large as my own head, and there was nothing more Adult nursing relationship stories could want at that moment.
For the last part of our nursing session, she laid me against the head rest, and mounted herself upright straddled on my crotch. She was not taking me inside her — she still wore her panties — but she gently slid up and down as though we were making love. Her breast was still at my mouth, letting me suckle right to the end, while she enjoyed a little pleasure of her own. As I walked down the street back to the Tube station, one thing was for sure — the years of waiting and searching had been worth it for this moment.
This is a great, heartfelt recollection.
Thanks Rob! Maybe others would also like to share their own? Log In Register. This topic has 3 replies, 4 voices, and was last updated 1 year ago by Anonymous. Viewing 4 posts - 1 through 4 of 4 total. March 29, at pm Rob Participant.
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Feeding Daddy Part 1