The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (18 page)

“I like yours,” I replied, smiling back at her. One of the many things I’ve always found attractive about Asian women is their silky black hair, especially when worn long. She
was wearing a green dress that hinted at a petite but perfect body, and her face was lovely.

Her almond-shaped eyes lit up, and she reached for my hand. “You like me?” she asked. “You really like me?”

“Very much.”

“My name’s Kim. I’m from Korea. Like
kimchi
; you like
kimchi
?”

“I prefer
sashimi
.”

She grinned at that, then shrugged off a shoulder strap to flash one of her small but beautiful breasts. Her nipple was already hard. “You want me to dance for you?”

“Sure.”

“Hug me.” I did, and she squirmed against me deliriously while the clerk stamped my free hand. Then she led me hurriedly along a corridor. “I have a room,” she said.
“You come to my room?”

“Room” was an exaggeration; it was a booth without a door, one of several around a stage where an attractive brunette was lap-dancing with a white-haired man. Kim led me into her
booth. “Forty dollars,” she said. “I dance for you, you can touch me, suck my breasts – you like my breasts?” she asked, as she peeled off her dress and stood before
me, naked but for her pumps.

“I love your breasts,” I said.

The booth was only dimly lit, so I couldn’t see them as well as I would have liked, but that ceased to matter an instant later when one of them was filling my hand and the other in my
mouth. They were small, but wonderfully round and firm and silky smooth, her nipples dark hard pearls. While I kissed and caressed them, Kim was busy undoing my clothing as well, expertly massaging
my balls. When my shirt was on the bench and my jeans halfway down my thighs, she turned around to show me her gorgeous ass, which she slapped gently. It was as firm and as perfectly shaped as her
breasts. “You like?”

“Very much,” I said, continuing to fondle one breast while I reached down to caress her ass. My hand travelled down between her thighs to rub her pussy, then up between those lovely
cheeks to tease her asshole.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Ken.”

“Ken? Where are you from?”

“Canada,” I said. My hands explored her terrific tiny body while she kissed my neck and stroked my hard cock.

“You here on vacation?”

“Business.”

“You don’t look like a businessman,” she said. “More like a traveller.”

“I’m a writer.”

“Wrrrrriter,” she repeated, making an obvious effort to pronounce the “r” sound, and laughed. She turned around again to look at my face. “What do you like? What
can I do for you?”

This wasn’t the sort of sex I was used to. Even when the attraction is instantaneous and seduction unnecessary, I enjoy flirtation and foreplay, and like to make them last; small as
Kim’s body was, I would have loved to have spent another hour exploring and worshipping it with my mouth and hands . . . but despite the lack of privacy, she had me so turned on that waiting
would have been difficult if not painful. I was still teasing her asshole with one finger; I applied a little more pressure, and asked, “How about this?”

“You like that?” She pushed back against me, rubbing her beautiful buttocks against my hard cock. “A hundred dollars.”

“OK.” Somehow I managed to get my wallet out of my jeans; she made the money disappear and produced a lubricated condom from out of the shadows, the neatest conjuring trick I’d
ever seen. She pushed me into a sitting position on the bench, rolled the condom over my erection while caressing my balls and kissing my cheek, and then spun around, sat on my lap, and guided my
cock into herself. She was tight, and hot, and I was astonished when I reached around her to stroke her thighs and discovered that I was firmly wedged in her pussy, not her ass.

She laughed. “Later,” she promised, her muscles expertly squeezing my cock. “OK?”

“Wonderful,” I moaned, as she squirmed against me – slowly, at first, then faster until I was on the verge of exploding – and then she clamped down for several seconds,
making me come without ejaculating. My senses were still reeling when she relaxed, raised herself up off my lap, and then grabbed my cock and guided it into her asshole.

I felt the tip of my cock press slowly against her sphincter, then the wonderful sensation of the glans popping through into her anus. She gasped, then giggled again, and eased herself back into
my lap, my shaft sliding easily into her depths. I’d thought her pussy was hot and tight, but this was the most intense feeling I could remember, and I wanted it to last for ever . . . until
she started her special brand of lap-dancing again, taking control of the movement, and the feeling of pleasure became stronger and stronger, building towards a peak that I couldn’t have
postponed if I’d wanted to. The orgasm, when it hit me, was like an earthquake and a lightning bolt and a tsunami all in one.

When I could see and focus again, Kim was still sitting in my lap, looking over her shoulder at my face. “You like?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I like you.” She peeled herself away from me somehow – I could have sworn we were fused together for ever, but obviously we weren’t – then handed me a tissue,
kissed me on the cheek and disappeared into the darkness.

I staggered out of the booth a few minutes later and into the auditorium, where I watched a few strippers until I was sure I was coordinated enough to walk back to my hotel.

Kim was waiting by the ticket booth as I left. “Hi!” she said. “Coming back tomorrow?”

Della, USA

When I was nursing my baby I was fortunate that I always had more than enough milk, so much in fact that I thought it would be a shame to let all that nourishing milk go to
waste. I checked with a new-age midwife I knew to see if she might know of anyone who could use my wet-nursing services. She said she would check around and get back to me.

It was so long before I heard from her again that I thought she had forgotten about me. When she finally called she said she had been hesitant to contact me because of the unusual nature of this
case.

It seemed there was a young man about twenty-four years old who’d had some kind of stomach surgery (she didn’t know the details) and his father said he was having serious difficulty
digesting ordinary food. The man was suffering pain and nausea almost every time he ate and because of this he was unable to get better. When he heard of me he thought that mother’s milk
might be just what he needed to soothe his stomach and nurture him until he got completely healed.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “What does his mother have to say about this?”

“Della, he’s a grown man, honey. His mother lives in some other state.”

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of a joke?”

“I assure you, Della, that it’s not. He insisted on meeting you before he decided to do it. You have an appointment with him this afternoon at two o’clock.”

“Is his father going to be there?”

“Yes, but he said that when you get there he’ll go upstairs and give you two some privacy.”

When I rang the doorbell an older gentleman answered the door. “Oh yes, he’s going to like you,” he said, smiling. “My son said he couldn’t bring
himself to do this with some ‘creepy-looking’ woman.

“Jesse,” the man yelled. “The lady is here. I’ll be upstairs,” he told me, and left.

When the young man appeared in the doorway I was stunned. He was barefoot, wearing baggy pyjamas and admittedly he looked frail, but he was absolutely beautiful. He had dark, curly hair and a
slender build. Though he was pale, almost fragile looking, he had a face like an angel. When he saw me he smiled.

“Thank God you’re pretty,” he said.

“I’m glad you approve,” I told him, smiling. “Would you like to start today? I hope you would because I’m so full that I’m soaking through my blouse. My
breasts start to hurt when they get this full.”

“I’m embarrassed,” he said, staring at my damp blouse. “I’m not well and I really do want to do this but I’m so embarrassed.”

“Come here, honey,” I said to him, feeling so much maternal compassion. I wanted so much for this to work for him. In truth I couldn’t wait to get that precious young man in my
arms. “Let’s do this on the couch. You lie down here facing me and I’m going to put my right leg over you to give you more room.”

“That’ll put me between your legs,” he said blushing. “Are you sure that’s all right with you?”

“Honey, it’ll be just fine,” I said, sitting down. “Come here and lie down.” I held my arms out to him.

Obediently he stretched out on the couch facing me and I lifted my right leg up over him. “Now I’ve got you in a leg hold,” I said laughing, “so don’t give me any
trouble.” As I talked to him soothingly I unbuttoned my blouse and lifted my right breast out of my bra as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The poor guy was flushed and trembling a little. I could see how nervous he was and I was doing everything I could to put him at ease.

“Your breasts are huge,” he whispered, tracing a blue vein with his finger.

“That’s right, baby, so you better be really hungry,” I said, laughing as I gently brought his head down to rest on my bosom. “Don’t be timid, take it in,” I
crooned.

Hesitantly he tenderly sucked the nipple into his mouth. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

“Suck as hard as you want to, sweetheart, it doesn’t hurt,” I whispered in his ear. “It actually feels good to empty some of that milk out.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He was sucking that nipple like he was starved. “It’s good,” he whispered, “really rich.” Slipping his right hand into my
blouse he timidly whispered, “May I?”

“Of course you may, sweetheart,” I said, and he clutched my other breast, kneading it with his fingers as he sucked.

It soon dawned on me that I was dealing with a problem I didn’t have when I nursed babies. I should have anticipated this. As I watched him drink, watched his sweet throat muscles contract
as he swallowed, watched this beautiful young man’s forceful sucking on my nipple, I was becoming uncomfortably aroused. It was all I could do to keep from letting a groan escape my lips, to
keep from squirming with the intense pleasure of it.

I glanced down and saw that he was having a problem as well. His rather large cock was rigid, poking against the fly of his pyjama bottoms. His eyes looked up at me from his nursing and he saw
that I was staring mesmerized at the bulge in his pyjamas.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch. “This is so pleasurable I can’t help but be stimulated by it. Just cover us and you
won’t have to look at it,” he said.

Covering us both with the blanket I said, “Honey, please don’t be embarrassed. I seem to be having the same problem myself.”

“Are you saying you’re aroused by me sucking your breasts?” he whispered.

“Well, yes, baby,” I said. “I should have realized that would happen.”

He began sucking violently and now I really did groan, feeling a heat rising in my sex, knowing that if he kept that up I was going to come, that there was no way I could stop it.

“Ma’am, please don’t be upset with me, but I’m so worked up I’m about to spill,” he whispered, grabbing at my nipple again.

“Jesse, can you see how easy it would be?” I whispered. By now the heat between my legs was like a fire overpowering any feeble thought of resistance. “You’re right
there,” I murmured. “I’m wearing a skirt and my panties are loose. All you have to do is pull them aside and go into me.”

At the thought of this possibility he was trembling violently. “What if Dad comes downstairs?” he whispered.

“Honey, we’re well covered with this blanket. All he would see is you nursing.” My voice was quavering with the urgency of my need. I slid down on the couch a little and opened
my thighs wider.

He scooted up to me and, trembling with excitement, I reached under the blanket and took his engorged cock out and guided it into my open lips. I was so frenzied I was gasping.

He was shuddering and groaning as well. “You need to switch to the other breast now,” I whispered, taking it out. Greedily he grabbed it into his mouth and I almost screamed as his
thick cock went smoothly into me so deep I felt the pressure as it pushed against the top.

“Oh God,” he whispered, “I don’t think I can keep from coming.”

“Just be really still for a moment, honey,” I said, “because I’m about two strokes from an orgasm myself. Let’s take this slow and easy. You’ve got more
nursing to do yet.”

After a while he was able to begin working inside me with strong, smooth and deep strokes as he nursed my throbbing breast. When we would get too close to orgasm he would slow down a little.

“Oh shit, this is unbelievable,” he groaned.

“Shhhh, here comes your dad,” I whispered.

He pushed deep into me and held it as he continued to nurse. I couldn’t keep my sheath from biting down on him, convulsing.

His father poked his head in the door. “Is everything OK in here?” he said.

“Fine, Dad, go away,” Jesse yelled. Grabbing the TV remote he turned the television on and turned the volume up. “Oh shit, ma’am, I don’t think I can hold it any
longer.” He was moaning, driving hard into me.

“It’s all right, baby,” I murmured gasping and pushing into him. “I’m coming too.” My orgasm was cresting in powerful spasms that enveloped me in continuous
fiery waves.

Stroking fast and hard he stiffened, thrust deep into me and cried out, his come squirting into me again and again, hot and powerful. It was bathing us both. I held his head to my breast rocking
us gently, my heart pounding.

“I hope this milk is what you need, sweetheart,” I said. “I hope it makes you all well.”

“If it doesn’t I’ll die happy,” he said, biting teasingly at my nipple.

Jesse did get well. It took three months of nursing therapy and we stretched that into four. I let him come by as often as he needs to for a little tender loving care. He still has that fragile,
angelic look about him that drives me mad.