Texastential
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The Pregnant Female Form
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MilkFountain
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Reading the key phrases below, I have the feeling that if you were braver and not so overly cautious, you'd be a lot happier . . . not living with regrets for what you didn't live. Life is risk; take one!
MilkFountain
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Risky, but . . .
In south America, in a wonderful country where good people live equally close to the land and to the luxuries of the world, I was asked by a European lady friend to find a wetnurse for her. She also asked me to not mention this to her husband. Especially this country, above all others I've visited or lived in, has women whose breasts are nearly universally exceptionally large and beautiful, with dark areola and prominent nipples, even without lactation. But, when they have been pregnant and are lactating . . . it gave me an idea.
I placed an ad in the "Help wanted" section of the principal newspaper, and waited, thinking.
In the next 9 days I saw about 40 women. In truth, nearly all of them were beautiful. Ostensibly to send their milk for lab testing, I hand milked them. Three of them came back for the sexual experience, so turned on being milked, and I bedded two of them. One, actually produced more than a liter of milk from each breast, although health experts have protested that that's not possible. This young girl was, coincidentally, among the most beautiful women I've ever seen or known, in any country, at any time in my life. I fell in love with her.
I did find a girl my friend was comfortable with as wetnurse, and she was forever grateful to me. The girl, more than ample bosomed, so productive that when she eventually became one of my two housemaids and companion to my teenage daughter, I delighted her by insisting that I'd never have cow's milk in the house, and used only hers. . . . By the way, To each and every one of the women who came as hopeful surrogates to offer their milk, I gave, of my own money, what for them would have been half a month's salary at a normal job in that country.
(This is what I mean, Texastential, by risk in service of our most secret desires.)
In south America, in a wonderful country where good people live equally close to the land and to the luxuries of the world, I was asked by a European lady friend to find a wetnurse for her. She also asked me to not mention this to her husband. Especially this country, above all others I've visited or lived in, has women whose breasts are nearly universally exceptionally large and beautiful, with dark areola and prominent nipples, even without lactation. But, when they have been pregnant and are lactating . . . it gave me an idea.
I placed an ad in the "Help wanted" section of the principal newspaper, and waited, thinking.
In the next 9 days I saw about 40 women. In truth, nearly all of them were beautiful. Ostensibly to send their milk for lab testing, I hand milked them. Three of them came back for the sexual experience, so turned on being milked, and I bedded two of them. One, actually produced more than a liter of milk from each breast, although health experts have protested that that's not possible. This young girl was, coincidentally, among the most beautiful women I've ever seen or known, in any country, at any time in my life. I fell in love with her.
I did find a girl my friend was comfortable with as wetnurse, and she was forever grateful to me. The girl, more than ample bosomed, so productive that when she eventually became one of my two housemaids and companion to my teenage daughter, I delighted her by insisting that I'd never have cow's milk in the house, and used only hers. . . . By the way, To each and every one of the women who came as hopeful surrogates to offer their milk, I gave, of my own money, what for them would have been half a month's salary at a normal job in that country.
(This is what I mean, Texastential, by risk in service of our most secret desires.)
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Texastential
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Of course, you are right. A part of me knows I should have risked it, but I don't read signals well. The girl in the office was married and she never said, I want you to fuck me, though the signals were there (I think?).
Oh well, it's still erotic to think about.
Your experience sounds great. Made me think of a video I saw on certain site with an Asian girl with spectacular breasts that sprayed milk for 3 minutes. Really something to see.
Oh well, it's still erotic to think about.
Your experience sounds great. Made me think of a video I saw on certain site with an Asian girl with spectacular breasts that sprayed milk for 3 minutes. Really something to see.
MilkFountain
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I have too!!!
Here's the video, one of my alltime favorites!!!!!!!!!:
http://www.xvideos.com/video1362460/milk_fountain
BY THE WAY . . . Don't think for a moment that I haven't had my regrets, not having acted when the opportunity was there. . . . Weeks after the breakup with my wife, a young couple invited me to dinner. Along with flowers for the young woman, I brought all the nighties my wife had left behind, all new and all really beautiful. I packed them in a plain white lingerie box, all 7 of them, tied it with a bow, wondered if they'd be offended by such a personal gift to the wife, and went, flowers, box of lingerie and a bottle of wine in hand.
Although the wife eagerly opened the box shortly after I arrived, she didn't go through the nighties, replacing the lid loosely and setting the box aside, on the couch. They'd set the dinner scene romantically, candles and all. Especially, she was dressed to be anyone's eye-candy. By the end of dinner, by the end of the first bottle of wine and beginning another she'd brought from their stock, we were happy, sexually charged, and her eyes were flashing, his smiling and proud. Suddenly, the husband said he wanted to see the nighties. Without giving anyone time to comment, he rose, went to the living room, and was soon back with the box I'd brought. He asked his wife to try them on.
It was only with his coaxing, and my finally joining in, smiling, imploring and genuinely eager, that we got her to overcome her shyness.
He asked me to choose the one I'd most like to see her in. Fearful of offending, I bypassed my favorite, a see-through at the bust, short affair that would have barely covered her crotch and bottom.
Instead, I chose a long, real Chinese white silk one that had perfectly fit my wife. Biting her lower lip, she left the table. As we waited, he and I, I commented, "Your wife is so beautiful. You're lucky." He smiled and said he could hardly wait to see her in the nighty I'd chosen.
When she came back into the candlelight, I was speechless. The nighty was the slightest bit small on her . . . just enough so that her curves really filled the nightdress as perhaps the designer might have imagined and hoped. Her nipples were dark, tenting the silk. She shyly twirled for us. Her bottom was everything any man would dream of, way beyond what I until them might have guessed. All I said was, "My god!"
She modeled only that one . . . because of my momentarily, uncharacteristically painful shyness, to say nothing of my stupidity. Thinking they wanted to be alone, I said, "I can't take anymore," I rose from the table, thinking I'd better leave them to it, grabbed my coat and fled.
All I would have had to do was, look into her eyes and from my heart say "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," then turned to her husband and have said what a lucky many he was, and then to her again, "Would you mind modeling the others?" That's all. That's all . . . And from there, so easy to specifically admire her breasts, ask him (not her!) if he minded my "seeing" them. And THEN, turning to her, looking into her eyes, ask if she'd mind.
And then touch, then kiss, then do whatever they were comfortable with. But no . . . And he could have said, "Don't you want to see the rest of them on her. I certainly do. Stay . . ." God, the regrets!
Here's the video, one of my alltime favorites!!!!!!!!!:
http://www.xvideos.com/video1362460/milk_fountain
BY THE WAY . . . Don't think for a moment that I haven't had my regrets, not having acted when the opportunity was there. . . . Weeks after the breakup with my wife, a young couple invited me to dinner. Along with flowers for the young woman, I brought all the nighties my wife had left behind, all new and all really beautiful. I packed them in a plain white lingerie box, all 7 of them, tied it with a bow, wondered if they'd be offended by such a personal gift to the wife, and went, flowers, box of lingerie and a bottle of wine in hand.
Although the wife eagerly opened the box shortly after I arrived, she didn't go through the nighties, replacing the lid loosely and setting the box aside, on the couch. They'd set the dinner scene romantically, candles and all. Especially, she was dressed to be anyone's eye-candy. By the end of dinner, by the end of the first bottle of wine and beginning another she'd brought from their stock, we were happy, sexually charged, and her eyes were flashing, his smiling and proud. Suddenly, the husband said he wanted to see the nighties. Without giving anyone time to comment, he rose, went to the living room, and was soon back with the box I'd brought. He asked his wife to try them on.
It was only with his coaxing, and my finally joining in, smiling, imploring and genuinely eager, that we got her to overcome her shyness.
He asked me to choose the one I'd most like to see her in. Fearful of offending, I bypassed my favorite, a see-through at the bust, short affair that would have barely covered her crotch and bottom.
Instead, I chose a long, real Chinese white silk one that had perfectly fit my wife. Biting her lower lip, she left the table. As we waited, he and I, I commented, "Your wife is so beautiful. You're lucky." He smiled and said he could hardly wait to see her in the nighty I'd chosen.
When she came back into the candlelight, I was speechless. The nighty was the slightest bit small on her . . . just enough so that her curves really filled the nightdress as perhaps the designer might have imagined and hoped. Her nipples were dark, tenting the silk. She shyly twirled for us. Her bottom was everything any man would dream of, way beyond what I until them might have guessed. All I said was, "My god!"
She modeled only that one . . . because of my momentarily, uncharacteristically painful shyness, to say nothing of my stupidity. Thinking they wanted to be alone, I said, "I can't take anymore," I rose from the table, thinking I'd better leave them to it, grabbed my coat and fled.
All I would have had to do was, look into her eyes and from my heart say "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," then turned to her husband and have said what a lucky many he was, and then to her again, "Would you mind modeling the others?" That's all. That's all . . . And from there, so easy to specifically admire her breasts, ask him (not her!) if he minded my "seeing" them. And THEN, turning to her, looking into her eyes, ask if she'd mind.
And then touch, then kiss, then do whatever they were comfortable with. But no . . . And he could have said, "Don't you want to see the rest of them on her. I certainly do. Stay . . ." God, the regrets!
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Texastential
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That's her! I'll bet she looked spectacular pregnant.
Texastential
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It's a good memory though. Sadly, I have nothing that can compete with that.
sixfeetundernea
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I have no desire to have children either, I've been talking with my gynecologist about getting my tubes tied and I'm 22, but I have a desire to get pregnant and be pregnant. At one point the desire was pretty strong. I would never get pregnant to do that, but I wish I could find a partner who would act it out for me.
Texastential
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Consider Waiting
Your mind may change. People can change an awful lot between 22 and say, 30.
Your mind may change. People can change an awful lot between 22 and say, 30.
Texastential
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A spectacular example...
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