My Man

I understand now why my fantasies always began with nipple play or gently having my tits squeezed.

I stopped wearing a bra when I was 22. I had always disliked restricting my breasts with undergarments. Lucky for me, I was a professional swimmer as a teenager, so I developed firm, round breasts that could shape any outfit I wore without extra support. I was so proud of my perky and taut 36Cs and the lingering gazes they attracted.

I think all those years spent unhindered made me especially aware of the sensations my nipples could feel rubbing against the fabric. I was often excited when I was not supposed to be. Even bending over slightly to pick up my bag would cause my nipples to press up against my fitted top and I would feel the warmth gushing. Lace tops especially aroused me and the textured fabric could send sticky juices down my thighs. Silk tops didn't feel the same, but I could see the outline my nipples made on the material and that made me feel naughty.

I loved every touch and every sensation that had to do with my breasts. I loved feeling them bounce under my clothes as I ran down the stairs, I loved soaping my nipples as I showered, I loved how they would get perkier in the cold Bangalore weather. If I was driving along a bumpy street or roads with speed breakers, the sensation of my tits bouncing against my clothes would make my back arch with bursts of desire. By the time I got home, I was ready to jump into bed and play with myself until I cried out in pain and pleasure. There never was anyone at home to hear me, so I let myself go wild.

At 26, I wasn't a virgin anymore, but I was single most of the time, so I spent it exploring my own body sexually. I remember fingering myself in different positions to find the most pleasurable spots. I automatically bit my lip and giggled when this happened. Sometimes I would get up on the bed on my knees and insert a finger deep inside and move my hips around. I teased myself while my other hand pushed against the wall. I would also spice things up by talking dirty to my imaginary lover and ask him to 'pound my pussy' or thrust his hard cock in my mouth. I would only say these words for real years later when I was in bed with him.

When I first met him, I was drawn to his humour and intelligence and our conversations were filled with laughter and an exchange of ideas. He was masculine in a way I had never experienced before, but knew I wanted. When we were together, he listened to me ramble on about TV shows that I watched with a quiet smile on his lips, occasionally poking fun at me for watching them. He had the sort of forearms that could pull you in for a quick kiss and slap your ass as you walked past him. And, he had a playful side that could turn me on any time, day or night. He calls me 'booby girl' when he wants to tease me. He loves a woman with full breasts. Tall women with full breasts, that's his type. I am 5ft 6in and I am his. He loves that I never wear a bra which lets him access my soft, naked mounds. He will cup them and play with them any time he desires a feel. At a boring traffic light once, his hand slid up my blouse and gave me a squeeze. As usual, I felt a rumble of pleasure and I turned to look at him with longing.

After our usual phone call at night, I would lay awake for several minutes with him on my mind, fantasizing about every little thing I wanted him to do to me the next time he fucked me. My fantasies were steamy and the scenes moved fast in my mind. Some of them were things we had already done and some of it was still a fantasy. As I imagine us together, I want his mouth gently pulling and sucking on my nipple and his finger grazing my thigh all the way down till he feels the warmth while moving his mouth to my other breast. I take a quick gasp as he takes my other nipple between his teeth and gives it a sharp bite. I want him to slap my tits with his cock and hear him tell me to spread my legs. I spend a few minutes slapping my pussy with his cock before guiding him inside as he kisses me hard on the lips. Those last few moments before he enters me, knowing his hardness is so close make me heady and I bite my lip in anticipation. And then, my tits start bouncing from the vigorous thrusts.

He took me to bed on our very first date. After getting to know each other over the phone and texting for a few weeks, we finally decided to meet in person. We had planned to spend the afternoon together over lunch, ending with drinks in the evening at a local pub. But the date ended with him banging me for the fourth time in a hotel room. We met on a clear and bright Saturday morning in January at a café by the lake for lunch. I showed up in a long sundress, just tight enough to show off my curves and he was waiting for me just outside the café, smiling as he recognized me from my photos. I felt a little thrill, remembering our naughty chats. While having brunch at the cafe that morning, I leaned in close to show him something on the phone, when he caught a glimpse of my bare tits. 'You don't wear a bra?' he asked. I shook my head and smiled. He breathed in sharply. 'It shows that you were a swimmer'.

I was getting aroused just sitting next to this man and having his arms brush against me while reaching for the sugar. I could sense that he felt the same way from all the quick glances he was giving my breasts. I wanted to be coy on our first date and let time take its course, but my eagerness to have his body on top of mine and cock inside me couldn't wait for a second date. I asked him if he had anything lined up for the evening and he said his calendar was open. I sidled up to him slowly and told him that I had never had sex with a man on a first date. In less than half an hour, we had checked into a cozy hotel nearby.

I looked around the room and saw a large four-poster bed and a comfy couch. My sexually aroused mind immediately imagined him taking me from behind on the couch and then tying me up to the bed to finish what he started. I was jolted out of my fantasy when he told me that he had been waiting all morning to do this, as he pulled me towards his chest and kissed me deeply. I could feel him move his hands up and down the side of my body, grazing my tits as he moved his hands to my face. 'I promised myself I would go slow, but I don't think I can hold back any longer,' he said as he cupped my right breast with his hand and kissed me again. I could tell from the way he massaged it that he was a boob-man. He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew me onto himself, my pussy brushing against his crotch. I felt a rush of excitement and pleasure and moved my hips back and forth in anticipation. He took off my dress in one swift motion and lay my bare body on the bed. He just noticed that I was not wearing panties either. Another quirk of mine.

He unbuttoned his shirt and the light caught his glistening chest. I wanted to spread my legs and grab his shoulders, all intention of being lady-like out the window. But he kept his pants as he went down on me and gave me a gentle lick. Oh God, this is really happening! He let his tongue linger for a few moments, assured when I moaned softly. He slid his tongue a bit deeper next and he knew he had me when I arched myself off the bed and clutched the bedsheets. By now, my pussy was wet and I could feel his tongue flicking my quickly. I began wiggling my hips to find the right pace, until I fell back in shuddering pleasure. He gave me a minute before moving up to my face and kissing me again. I could taste myself in his mouth and threw my arms around his neck and kept him close to my lips.

Once I recovered from my orgasm, I was curious to see all of him. As he moved my legs apart, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down to his knees. I could see the bulge through his boxers, but I couldn't be sure how big he was. I closed my eyes and decided to open them slowly so I could control my reaction when I finally saw him. I sensed movement on the bed and knew he had taken his boxers off and opened my eyes very slowly. He was just putting on a condom but I could see his hard, meaty cock through his fingers and I exclaimed with complete glee, 'Is that you! Let me see! Oh my God, you are big!' He smiled in embarrassment and said, 'Stop embarrassing me, idiot'. But I hear him.

I wanted him in my mouth, filling me with his girth. I sat up on the bed and took him in my hand, allowing myself to feel his organ. I needed a sense of the size so I could prepare before I started sucking him. I leaned forward and took him in, inch by inch and moved back. He could see my ass and slapped them a couple of times. I rolled my eyes up to look at him and he was looking down, watching this sexually eager woman tasting him. As I continued to move my lips back and forth on his cock, I kept imagining what he would feel like inside me and started sucking him faster in excitement. When I tasted his pre-cum, he stopped me and asked me to lie down. 'I want to fuck you first,' he said.

Once he was inside me, he was pounding me so hard that my 36Cs bounced wildly in front of our eyes. And we watched them. He with lust, and I with delight. The first time was straightforward kissing and fucking. The second time was quite different, now that we were both a bit more relaxed and ready to explore each other.

We have been in a relationship for two years now and each time we have sex, is like the first time at the hotel. Soon, I started experiencing orgasms through penetration. Now, every time we have sex, I only relax once I have all of his manhood inside me. I thrill when the force of his tall, muscular body drives him in again and again until he reaches a pace that makes my body shudder in orgasms. Some of the orgasms are so intense that my vaginal muscles tighten around his swollen penis, not letting him move. Other times, he barely gives me a second to catch my breath before lifting my legs up with his arms to ram me again.