Nipples

"Emma Loves her best friends."

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I love them. Nipples that is, and because of my fetish I therefore tend to like women more than men. I just love playing with nipples and what they are attached to. For me, they epitomize eroticism. They seek attention when they are bound within my clothes but they almost demand attention when they are exposed.

My nipples love being touched, caressed, squeezed, pulled, licked and sucked. I love all of those things. Is there a woman that doesn’t?

There are so many variables that affect them, such as coldness, heat, touch, sound. Yes, the sound of people pleasuring themselves, make mine erect.

It saddens me that my breasts are not large enough for me to suck on my own nipples. I suppose, that’s no different to a bloke that loves his own cock and can’t reach it. I would envy those that can.

There is a hidden pathway that guides me when I touch my nipples; a definitive route that I have to take. I know when I have drifted off the path and I know that getting back on it is impossible. I know that path so well.

It starts with how I feel. What state of mind I am in and how needy I am.

Tonight, I am needy.

I have come home from work, eaten, and drank some wine. The music on the HiFi is sensual; the low tones and throaty voice of the singer puts me in the right mood. I have already discarded most of my clothes; Keeping only those that I wear over my breasts. I slip down onto the sofa with a smile on my face knowing that I will reach my orgasm tonight. I’m in the right state of mind.

I slowly lift my jumper, rolling the lower edges until it reaches my breasts before pulling it up and over my head. I look down at my body and watch my breasts react to my breathing. My nipples know what’s coming and I know how nice that is going to feel.

I touch both nipples with the tips of my fingers; circling them and encouraging them to grow and become sensitive. They punch into the soft white fabric of my bra. I cup the underside of my breasts and wiggle them; causing them to scrape and slide against the cotton lace. I slip onto the sofa and slump into the cushions.

I reach behind me to undo my bra. My breasts expand as they are released from their confines. My breathing is slow but expectant. I can feel wisps of cold air brush over them and I can see them grow outwards. I have pretty long nipples for the size of my breasts and I love them.

It’s time to touch and caress them. I start with the underside of my breasts and work my hands upwards; cupping them and slowly letting the palms of my hands part with my breasts as my little finger approaches my nipples.

They mustn’t be touched. Not yet.

I repeat the action until I find my body swaying to and fro, then it is time to increase the pleasure. I lift both my fingertips and touch both nipples on the top at the same time. I love watching my red nails scrape across the tops of my engorged nipples.

With ever decreasing light touches, I flick my fingers so they scrape my nipples rapidly. Then I press down on them and push them into my breasts; circling my thumbs over them. I feel the pleasure snake through me. I cannot stop my stomach from clenching and a jolt of pleasure extends to my sex.

I am on the right track and I know I will get to my destination.

My thumbs continue to roll my nipples around my breasts. I catch the top of them and push them downwards before rolling my thumb around and back to the start. Every turn of my thumb is excruciatingly wonderful.

My eyes start to close and I lose myself in the moment.

Every touch and every tweak of my nipples sends wonderful signals to my sex. I know they are getting there, I can feel them. The feedback of those sensations in my head is driving me forwards. There is no way that I am going to relinquish my onslaught on them. Not when my destination is so close.

The next stop on my route forces them into submission. I place both my fingers and thumbs around them and I rub them; softly at first, then a little harder. The signals proliferate and increase in intensity and frequency.

My bum lifts off the sofa, I push my pussy upwards into the phantom hand that is hovering above me as I squeeze on my nipples. With each thrust upwards, I squeeze my nipples between my fingers.

The end is close, I mustn’t lose it now but I still need to be careful. A few more squeezes should do it. I know I am teetering on the edge of the cliff, about to be pushed but waiting for someone or something to instigate my fall. My stomach is clenching much faster than my body is being raised off the sofa or the touch of my fingers.

I squeeze hard on both nipples, I pull on them and squeeze again. Again, and again, on the last squeeze I extend my fingers so that my nipples are pulled as far as they will go and then I let go; allowing them to bounce back into my body and wobbling my breasts as they do so.

I start to fall over the cliff. I grab them quickly and repeat the action. I keep falling and falling until I crash on the floor. My breathing is heavy, my legs are now clamped together and my stomach is pulsing in tune to my orgasm.

I don’t know what you think about yours, but I absolutely love my nipples.

Published 8 years ago

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