Bi-Male iso Couples in Milwaukee

[badger9]

Looking to further explore my bi-sexual urges, and enjoy a hot time with a bi-couple. Easy going, respectful, very discreet. I enjoy both the female and male aspects of sex, and would l-o-v-e to experience both at the same time.

Of course, I'm offering an opportunity here for a couple to also explore this MMF fantasy, especially for a gal who's looking to see her man perform with another man, maybe for the first time.

Would love to hear from other guys or couples who've recently had such an experience. Any suggestions or tips?

 

[badger9]

No takers yet? Well ok. But someone out there must have some stories to share, some kind (and hot) advice for all of us with this particular interest. Don't be shy, please share.

 

[MilkFountain]

Two possibilities . . .

I think there are always two ways to live out a fantasy: one, to wait around, always ready to seize an opportunity, or two, to boldly go where you never dreamed of going before. The key here is to risk all, to be bold, and to create the situation you have so hankered for. (Don't you just love over-simplification?)

The best way I can illustrate this is with an example from my own life--combining both my suggestions above. . . .

While living in a South American capital, and having been facinated all my life with women's breasts, an obsession with mother's milk slowly surfaced, becoming stronger as I was presented almost everywhere I went, with young women unselfconsciously feeding their babies in public--on buses, in waiting rooms, in open markets, and by the road as I dustily passed in my car. I became passionately aroused at the mere thought of sucking a woman's milk.

One day, the wife of a friend of mine, who had recently arrived in the country, called to ask what she might do to find a wet-nurse for her baby, since she wasn't producing enough milk. She didn't want her husband to know about it until she had found someone appropriate for the job. So, I placed an ad in a local newspaper, in Spanish, of course, offering "Excellent pay and conditions for someone to nurse a newborn baby," and my phone number. Perhaps to ease my conscience, I decided that I would, from my own pocket, pay any of the girls who showed up, whether they were chosen or not.

I was overwhelmed with calls, made appointments, and, and . . . decided to take the plunge.

The first young lady was a pretty, black-haired beauty of 17, her breasts large and achingly full. As she rested her hands in her lap, her breasts were so obviously heavy, and so round, that they touched the inner sides of her upper arms. When I explained that I had to make a breast examination, she immediately stripped off her blouse and bra, and sat where I asked her on the edge of my bed, while I made notes on a small typewriter (before computers). She had the most remarkably puffy areola--pale pink dollops topping her cinnamon skin which, over her breasts, was stretched shiny by the overburden of milk. Out of the cotton bra, her nipples rose dark red and distended, constantly leaking milk. I palpated her breasts, as I had seen in a television community health program, obstensibly looking for lumps, and then said I needed samples of her milk--both for health analysis and for volume. The girl was submissive, eager to please. She was, I am sure, eager for a little income, wherever she might find it.

Hands folded in her lap, she allowed me to lift a breast. I was afraid she’d notice my hands shaking. Her breast was heavy and round, better than any dream of fantasy I had had. They were so large, and so full, that I had to gently pull the one I lifted away from the other so that I could slip my hand between them. As I lifted, her milk dribbled. She mumbled, “Excuse me.”

I couldn’t see her eyes. They were nearly closed, her long black lashes almost resting on cheeks that revealed a faint blush rising. I didn’t know if she were embarrassed that her milk spilled over my hand, or by her circumstance—that a strange man touched her so intimately.

Overwhelmed by a wave of lust, I contained myself, carefully drawing my fingers from her chest to her areola, stroking her milk forward, as I had seen done in the video. Immediately, her milk sprayed, sizzling into the small flask I had asked her to hold close under the nipple. Stray streams arced over the lip of the glass container, unexpectedly spraying my hand, arm, shirt and face. Her nervous giggle was infectious. I laughed outright. One of the fine sprays painted my cheek. Her first anxious giggle blossomed into happy laughter as I comically stretched my tongue to lick the drops tickling my cheek. Although my arousal was now complete, causing my cock to force its way from under my underpants and uncomfortably along my thigh, the laughter restored my confidence. I motioned with an elbow toward the bedside table, to the box of tissues, so the girl could wipe the tears from her face, as she continued to laugh, now uncaring as I earnestly stroked her breast with both my hands, milking her into the flask.

From then on, I did the same with the more than 80 women who showed up. I am still astonished at how many were seriously beautiful. I invented a story that I had a rare stomach malady, and that I too was interested in finding someone who would give me her milk. I said that an enzyme in mother's milk would ease the pain. Although I saw that a few accepted my story with difficulty, the promised reward made them all eager to cooperate.

Over a period of several weeks, I invited a few back for "follow-ups." If memory serves, I eventually sucked the milk from five of them—paying them well for each visit, as promised. I also chose one, who was accepted by my friend's wife as ideal to feed her baby.

 

[badger9]

Bumping...

...and hoping...

 

[gregor_16]

Just a bump and a Happy New Year!

 

[MilkFountain]

It was a Happy New Year, Badger.

Dear Badger, you've read my account above, of my fetish with mother's milk, and you already know, from the "Wives with other men" thread somethng about my prodigious oral enjoyment in sex. . . . Yesterday, the first of January, my current girlfriend and I had a fellow over whom I'd met on the internet, and who had shown great interest in being with my girl. We had him over ostensibly for a cup or two of year-end cheer--champagne here, since it's summer, instead of eggnog. We did end up in bed.

My girlfriend, not having been with two men before, asked if I'd mind if she were alone with him for a while at first. I said, fine, but to make sure that I could hear what was going on--that I would be closeby, in the hallway. I asked her what she'd like to do first, and she said, undress him, then maybe suck him for a while. I said, great! I asked if she would then sit astride him, with his cock up against her bottom, but wait until she heard me enter before putting him inside.

He arrived, I handed him a frosted glass of "Mimosa," and told him to take his time, that we had been making love and talking about his arrival up until he rang the doorbell, and that she was now inside, naked, waiting for him. He gulped half the glass of champagne and orange juice, and began taking off his clothes where he stood, in the living room. As he jerked down his shorts, his cock sprang up sem-hard. I said, "Got ahead when you want to," and turned to go in the kitchen for my own drink. I waited there a minute.

When came out, he was gone. Faintly I heard Norma's breathing. Crossing the deserted living room, I tip-toed down the hall, and listened.

I had never heard her breathe like that before. Where I stood in the hall, just outside our bedroom door, it was loud. It was hoarse, she was panting. Her throat sounded raw. Her breath came as it can only come through an open mouth. The sound brought to my mind the British expression--she was "dying for it." She had found the situation so erotic that she couldn't get enough air. I imagined her breasts rising and falling with her strain to fill her lungs. Inexplicably, I heard her curse under her breath. Later, our friend told me that when he had gone into the nearly dark room, she had risen to her knees on the bed, facing him naked, had taken him into her arms to kiss him, and once the kiss was fully locked, had pressed her belly into his crotch. He said his pants-covered cock had immediately gone up hard on her belly, and it must have been then that she had broken the kiss, and I had heard her breathing coming to me so loudly in the hallway.

He said she had then bowed before him, kneeling with her legs apart and bottom high in the air. He said her fingers kept fumbling in her desperation to open his pants. He laughed and said she had even cursed once just before finally getting the zipper down. As I stood in the hallway, listening to her ragged panting, my Norma was caressing her face with his cock. Nothing could have been more erotic for me than the sound of her forced breath, and then the inexplicalbe silence. He said she had taken him into her mouth, sucking on him as a hungry baby lion might claw desperately for its mother's milk. As she tried over and over to to press the head of his cock into her throat, he told me he had caressed her back and squeezed the mounds of her ass, gliding his fingers down between them, over her puckered asshole and into her already dripping slit.

After a couple of minutes, I peaked around the corner. She was doing what I had asked: sitting astride him, her back to me, her bottom full against his thighs, the reddened bulb of the head of his cock up against her tailbone. His shaft rose, pressed between her cheeks, its stiffness pressing it firmly into the the crack of her bottom. He was already so hard that I could see he was circumcised, the fat, round, mushroom-shaped, bulb at the top an angry dark pink. It leaked a dribble of precum down from the slit, which was broad and open, as if it were puckering.

I climbed up between his legs and immediately impaled my mouth on his cock, taking as much in as I could, until it flattened soft on the back of my throat. I pressed my forehead against my girlfriend's tailbone, my nose down in the soft divide between her cheeks, the tip against her asshole, and felt him reflexively push hard up into me. I let my drool coat his cock, then backed off him, took it in hand, and raised my girlfriend's bottom just enough to force our friend's cock under and into her. She was already so wet it went freely in. She immediately began to rise and fall on him. I asked her to keep her back arched so that her bottom was thrust out, and I lay between our friend's thighs. Raising my chin, I could thrust it and my tongue up to lap at her asshole as she descended on him each time.

Her breathng was the most exciting thing I'd ever heard. I varied nuzzling into her bottom, full face, with holding his balls in my mouth as she bounced on him. I have no other interest with a man than pleasing him orally. Sucking a man's cock is for me much like filling my mouth with the breasts of the women in the account above on this page. But there is something so aggresively wonderful and magnificently sexual about a rampant, rock-hard cock involuntarily thrusting itself in the warmth of my mouth and doing all it can to reach, and even enter my throat. There is nothing like lying on my back and feeling the eager, uncontrolled power of his cock nosing its way deeper, bulging my cheeks and gagging my tongue. I love being overwhelmed by its masculine insistence against any resistence. When finally I've used my tongue to push enough saliva to wet the entire length of it, I love widening my mouth, dropping my jaw until it creaks and the strain makes an ache in my ears, as I help him insinuate the shaft deeper. There comes a point when the bulbous head has passed the bulk of my tongue, and finally finds itself at the entrance to my throat. I flatten my tongue as much as I can, helping him fully sheath himself in my throat, his scrotum stretched over my nose, as he flattens it with his body, trying to get impossibly deeper. The most satisfying moment for me is feeling that rolling, warm weight of his balls on my nose, sometimes touching my cheeks on either side, while I look up at the rise of his straining bottom over me.

I can hold my breath for a long time. At the moment of truth, as the man's spasms stormed through him, making him a mountainous wave rolling over me, I watch the strain in his buttocks--so powerful as he rests his full weight on me, toes pushing desperately against the bed, buttocks tight together, his balls making it impossible for me to breathe. I had to hold my breath so long as one desperately-full, long-deprived fellow emptied spasm after spasm into my throat, that I nearly blacked out. I heard him grunt, felt the pulses of his semen passing through my mouth and throat, and felt the surprisingly warm tickle of his shots somewhere down around my Adam's apple. He was holding my head, fingers around the back of my neck and thumbs across my throat, so for a brief moment, I couldn't have withdrawn if I had wanted to. I was distantly aware that I was on the verge of losing consciousness as he deliberately thrust his hips strongly, his entire body shaken, as a last, dying spasm

I loved that moment after he withdrew, savoring the aroma, the flavour, and especially the sticky pleasure between my tongue and the roof of my mouth as I experimentally let the tang and fragrance of his sperm fill my nose. (How's that, Badger?)

 

[badger9]

MilkFountain, thanks for sharing that experience. That is soooo much the type of experience I'm looking for. That, and hundreds of other naughty, kinky thoughts I have. Someday...