The feelings that flood my senses when my nipples are touched, sucked, pinched, pulled, or bitten, are enough to set off an orgasm unlike any other I am able to explain. I never tire of my partner playing with them, attaching nipple clamps, suction devices or even clothes pins. If he isn't around, I continue where he left off. My nipples beg me for attention and at times beg me even for pain. I am able to wrap my nipples with soft yarn, making them stick out half an inch. Doing this makes them hurt and ache, but I also feel so sexy and sensual, my clothing unable to hide something so large and protruding.
Now, for some unknown reason, my breasts have begun producing milk. I'm not on any medication that would cause this, nor am I pregnant. Perhaps it is due to the constant stimulation I give my nipples, similar to a mother feeding her infant. Wanting easy access to my nipples and excited by the thought of offering my breasts for suckling, I think how convenient it would be to wear a nursing bra. On a whim, I decide to go out to the shops to look for something sexy that suits my taste.
I go straight to a chic lingerie shop, expensive, but carrying styles that say more about a woman than words. There is one clerk working, a man in his late 20's, very smartly dressed in a suit, very professional. I stifle a gasp as I drink in his good looks and sensual demeanour. He asks how he can help me and I tell him I would like to look at the selection of nursing bras. With a slight smile and a subtle glance at my breasts, he leads me to the section I want and invites me to look around for what I might like. I thank him and turn to look at the selection. Instinctively I feel his presence near me, his gaze penetrating me. A smile, hidden from him, crosses my face and I realize the instant attraction I had to him is mutual.
After picking out several tasteful but alluring bras in what I think are my size, I ask to use the changing room to try them on. He leads me to a private area in the rear of the store with several well-furnished rooms. He holds the door for me to enter one, and I thank him and turn to pull the door shut. My slight hesitation gives him the opportunity to slip through the door with me. I give him a questioning look and can't hold back a little laugh, asking if it's customary for employees to give such personal attention to all of the clients.
Raising his eyebrows and flashing a seductive smile, he produces a tape measure and asks if I am sure of the size. A familiar tingling sensation in my nipples that leads to a yearning ache between my legs forces me to lie. No, I tell him. I'm not sure at all. He asks if he could be allowed to measure me, saving both time and trouble. My heart skips a beat, thinking of his hands lightly brushing my skin, his piercing brown eyes falling on my full breasts. I'm quite sure he has seen the lust in my eyes, something that has always been difficult for me to hide. My answer slips through my lips in a husky whisper, "Yes, I think you should take my measurements."
Nodding, he asks me politely to remove my shirt, which I do, slowly undoing the buttons as he watches. Taking my blouse, touching my hand not entirely by accident, he hangs it up carefully. "It will be necessary to remove your bra as well", he says softly. I feel myself blush. His strong hands reach for my shoulders, turning me gently away from him. He adeptly unhooks the back, his hands returning to my shoulders to slide the straps down my arms, letting the bra fall away from my breasts, then taking it and placing it on a small table.
My hands move to my breasts, cupping them as I return to face him. Taking my hands in his, he guides them until my arms are perpendicular to my body. Expertly, his arms reach around me for the end of the tape measure, pulling it to meet under my full breasts at my breastbone. As he does so, I catch a hint of his cologne, my nose and cheek dangerously close to him, the smooth material of his jacket rubbing against my bare nipples. Looking directly into my eyes, he says, "38" and moves the tape measure up to cross over my nipples to meet once again in the centre of my chest. My already hard nipples tighten and the skin around them puckers as the tape measure falls away from them.