coyote Chronicles : THE bosom buff ( M/F mast, bunko game )
Written by Koyote


CHAPTER ONE - THE PERSONAL AD

I ran across an advertisement in the personals surgical incision of the newspaper. It was a simple short advertizing but it was intriguing because of what it promised. The ad simply stated :

Large breasted woman looking for worshipers
Rewards given only to those who can revere properly.
There volition be a test
Only grievous need apply, call ( nnn ) nnn-nnnn.

Large breasted women are my weakness. I start drooling every time one of them gets their huge mammilla close to me. What was there to drop off ? What was there to pull ahead ? The test with possible rewards was the up position. The down side was it is more than likely a blind, some hooker trying to drum up commercial enterprise. What is the unsound that could go on ; I could die. What the perdition, you can not be killed over the telephone. At least I never heard of that happening over the telephone.

I was discerning so I kept putting off making the vociferation. A duo of calendar week past before I got up sufficiency intestinal fortitude to pick up the telephone set. I always pay for my procrastination ; the number was disconnected. wellspring I guess the large breasted woman had found a worshiper.

Two weeks later, the Lapp advertisement appeared again with a unlike telephone number. I tripped over a chair in my haste to get to the telephony. shucks, no answer. At to the lowest degree the bit was working this prison term. I just had to come up out if this was for real.

A duo of hour and respective unanswered try later the telephone was finally answered, by a political machine. It verified the telephone set number and instructed me to get out a subject matter ; I hung up. What could I say to a car ? Are you the machine with expectant boob ? I sat around for a patch trying to adjudicate if I should foretell again and what I would say if the damn car answered. My hot pants won out and I dialed the telephone number again.

The auto answered. `` Ah, how-do-you-do ... I am calling about the ad you placed in the composition. I think I might be the person you are looking for. Ah, I 'm not into B & D or S & M so if you are looking for a 'slave'then I am afraid that 's not me. ``

A distaff voice broke in, `` hullo, I do n't want to know your name. Names are not important '', she said, `` The only when thing significant to me is how lots you do like enceinte chest. ``

'' I love large breasts ; they are the aphrodisiacal affair in the world."I replied.

'' well you WILL suffer to prove that to ME, '' the woman stated.

'' Where and when ? '' Was my wily response.

'' number 1 you have to recognize there will be no fucking, '' she said flatly, `` You only get to caress my breasts as long as I want you too, and that 's it. Is that understood ? ``

'' Jesus lady that 's a petty one sided is n't it ? ``

'' That 's the way it will be, that 's part of the test. If you pass the trial then I MIGHT give you a reward. But you have to prove to me that you worship my breasts as they should be worshiped."She paused.

"Now, are you going to be the one to hero-worship my bosom or not ? '' she asked.

'' Jesus dame you drive a hard steal,"I protested.

'' Yes or no. I have other caller-up. ``

'' Okay lady O.K., where and when ? ``

'' You know the watching lot by the airport ? ``

'' Which one, the one on airport Road or the other one ?"I asked.

'' The other one, in about a hour. '' she said, `` Can you be there in an minute ? ``

'' Yes I can ... but how will I get it on if you 're there ? ``

'' You wo n't unless I want you to. What kind of car and what semblance of car do you have ? ``

I told the female interpreter on the other end of the telephone the information that she wanted and she gave me further instructs and then we hung up.

pacing back and Forth in my living room to kill time and bod out what the Hades I was getting myself into. I was getting spooky about this meeting. Maybe I am just paranoid. No, I 'm horny, blasted horny. My last-place two girlfriends did n't have a decent set of nipple even if you added them together. I think that is what I was missing in those human relationship, tit lust.

So I have called a stranger, a woman who put an ad in the paper saying she wants someone to worship her white meat. I have promised to match her without knowing what she looks like or even if she will let me see her breasts. And unfit of all, she gets to train me out and if she does n't wish what she sees I wo n't even know if she was there or not. If she does n't care me, I 'll bet the telephone gets disconnected again too.

What do I get out of all this, a vague promise of a payoff ? If I worship her breasts, how do you worship breasts ? Get down on your genu bowing and proclaiming 'Oh holy breasts'. Well at least I get to look out some airplane landings ; I have not done that in a while.



CHAPTER TWO - THE MEETING


There were seven or eight cars in the viewing lot when I arrived. I parked at the cover of the lot, my car facing away from the airport as instructed by the female vox on the phone. I turned off my engine but left the key on so I could mind to the radio as I waited. I got out and walked around to the backbone of the car to sit on the entrust bring up bumper as instructed. For about ten second, I watched elevator car pull in and out and tried to peer into the other machine to try to reckon out if the turgid breasted womanhood was there.

It was getting dark rapidly on this warm moonless summer nighttime. There was no illumination in the viewing field ; all you could see was the headlight of the overtaking traffic and the bring illumination on the aircraft and airport runway and hack lights.

someone approached me from the former side of my car. All I could see in the dark was that it was a woman wearing a tube top and slackness and carrying a huge flashlight. She walked up to me and shined the light directly in my eyes. Totally ruining my dark visual modality, all I could see was red stars.

The womanhood spoke first. She asked me why I was there. I responded with the phrase that I had been instructed me to say, `` I 'm here to worship. ``

'' Get into the back seat on the passenger side and close down the door. ``

I did as she told me. She got in on the same side in the front seat and closed the door. The woman twisted around and knelt in the front rear end, facing in my direction. She reached out and pulled the headrest all the way up to the upper most location. Then she blinded me with that red cent bright ass flashlight in my center again. I could not see shit. Very clever I thought. She had positioned herself so she could see out the spinal column and side windowpane of my car, and watch for anybody approaching. In add-on, at the same time because of the blinding torch, all I could make out of her face was a blur with red spots.

She instructed me to tip forward. As I leaned forward, I could see though the post in my eyes what I had come to see. She had pulled down her tube top to just below her magnanimous magnificent breasts and positioned one on each side of the headrest post.

I did not have a lot of sake in seeing her aspect at that meter. My only pursuit was in those fantastic tits lying on the back of the front derriere begging to be kissed and fondled. She had told me that she did not desire to be romanced. All she wanted was exactly what her advert had said. I was more than willing to lodge her desires.

I reached out slowly and gently caressed her Brobdingnagian breasts with my hands. I could feel the weight of those monster tit in the palms of my hands. Slowly I traced my fingernails along the side of each titty toward her nipples. The woman did not respond. However, her teat did. mammilla do not lie. When a womanhood gets stimulated, her nipples stick out. This woman 's mammilla were about a half on an inch long and about as big around as the eraser end of a pencil. I wanted to see if I could fix them longer.

Lowering my mouth to her pull up stakes breast, I flicked her upright tit with the tip of my clapper. The womanhood responded this metre. She let out a soft moan. I flicked my tongue on the mamilla of her aright breast. She moaned again but this metre her moan was just a touch longer and a little louder. With just two moving-picture show of my tongue, I had figured out what I wanted to have a go at it. Yep it is her right breast. Being a boob lover has taught me that every woman has one tit that is more sensitive than the other one.

Therefore, I started on her less sensitive left titty. Opening my rima oris full and gently sucking in as much of her breast as would fit. Then very slowly, I started rotating my natural language around the tit in small circles while lifting and squeezing as I was trying to storm more tit into my backtalk. It had the hope outcome on her that I wanted. The woman moaned again and leaned even farther forward trying to hale more of her chest into my mouth.

This titillating situation had an effect on me also. While toying with her magnificent breasts I grew one hell of a hardon. It had been a very long clock time since I had the pleasure of playing with prominent boob. The more I sucked and licked her tit the more than she moaned and the harder and more uncomfortable my tool became in my blue jeans.

The woman started humping against the tail end back with her groin. It was then that I got a puff of air of the odor. That pungent odor that emanates from a charwoman's cunt when she is in lust, it is the most aphrodisiacal olfactory sensation a man can reek. My dick throbbed painfully in my pants. I figured the alone way that I could smell her foreplay was if the woman had one hand down her slacks, fingering her pussy. Just the opinion of her fingering herself while I sucked her boob had my dick leaking in my underwear.

It was now the mightily prison term. I switched my tit sucking exertion to her right breast. Her response was both expected and appreciated. I love knowing I am doing a dependable job. As I alternated between sucking hard and then gently but firmly flicking her nipple with my tongue, she started moaning constantly and humping the seat harder.


CHAPTER trio - THE REWARD

I felt the char 's hand at my fork tracing the outline of my hardon through my dungaree. She had reached around the tush with her free manus and was trying to pull my zipper down. Releasing her breast with my hired hand, I helped her. I unsnapped my jeans, unzipped them, and with corking trouble pushed them and my underpants down until they were at my ankles, I exposed my aching dick.

As soon as my cock was freed and I scooted up to the sharpness of the back bottom, the cleaning woman 's hired man immediately encircled the shaft of my dick. She definitely knew what she was doing. Slowly she stroked and squeezed my tool in time to my tit suck. Her quarter round rubbed across the head spreading my precum all over the swollen point of my cock. Her fingernails were scraping the rim of the heading. She tickled the base of the head with her nails, squeezed the beam of light to produce more precum, and massaged it over the fountainhead again. Her experienced manus was driving me up a wall. This woman knew how to cod a guy's dick. fountainhead I know how to twit tits.

I started sucking and licking her knocker with totally abandonment. Using my pollex to squeeze the inside portion of her bosom forcing her nipple closer together so I could flick the mammilla of both bosom at the same prison term. This had the craved effect ; she moaned louder than ever and started humping against the prat back very grueling, she momentarily forgot about my raging hardon.

Her ventilation and moaning came rapidly with little `` oh oh oh oh ''. As she was getting very close to getting her rocks off, she maintained a death hairgrip on my dick. I did n't mind, it did not hurt, and I do n't think that you could suffer hurt my dick by squeezing it even with a bench vise because it was so substantial. Just as she was getting to the peak of her climax, I let her palpate my tooth as I bit her tit just hard enough to send her over the border. I love to induce women experience an orgasm.

As her sexual climax subsided, I slowed my sucking and nibbling down to let her down gently. She on the other hand did just the opposite with her handwriting on my dick.

Her script started sliding rapidly up and down the shaft of my tool. The irradiation was slick, well lubricated by the gallon of precum she had already coaxed out of me. Now I was the one moaning with a mouthful of tit.

The sexual climax that she gave was one of the outdo that I have ever had. She squeezed my dick exceptionally hard on the last-place upstroke. It made cum shoot out of my peter like the shuttle taking off the roquette pad. Every time my prick pulsed out another load of sperm, she would pressure my prick very tight on the up stroke helping it and me reach new tallness. My sperm squirted all over the binding of the strawman seat. The woman just kept jacking my dick until my testicles were completely drained and my body was in a country of almost total collapse.

All I could do is sit there with my head resting against the bottom back and gasp, trying to fascinate my breath. The charwoman released my rapidly softening prick and a few moments later the dome igniter in my car came on. The car rocked back and forth, as she exited. I was too tired to lift my head up to see at the womanhood who had given me so practically pleasure. Besides, if I tried to face at her she would just blind me with that damn flash light again, so I did not even try. I felt her hand caressing the hair on the cover of my foreland through the open window just before she turned to leave.

The last matter I heard her say as her stride crunched off into the distance in the gravel parking lot and the iniquity was, `` Call me tomorrow. ``

THE END