Canis latrans story : THE BREAST LOVER ( M/F mast, confidence game )
Written by Koyote


CHAPTER ONE - THE PERSONAL AD

I ran across an advertisement in the personals subdivision of the newspaper. It was a unsubdivided little advertisement but it was intriguing because of what it promised. The ad simply stated :

Large breasted fair sex looking for believer
Rewards given only to those who can idolize properly.
There testament be a test
Only serious need employ, call ( nnn ) nnn-nnnn.

Large breasted adult female are my weakness. I start drooling every time one of them gets their huge tits close to me. What was there to lose ? What was there to win ? The test with possible payoff was the up side. The down position was it is more than likely a subterfuge, some hooker trying to swot up up business. What is the worst that could happen ; I could die. What the hell, you can not be killed over the telephone. At least I never heard of that happening over the telephone.

I was apprehensive so I kept putting off making the call. A twain of workweek past before I got up enough intestinal fortitude to pick up the telephone. I always pay for my procrastination ; the numeral was disconnected. Well I guess the boastfully breasted woman had found a worshiper.

Two week later, the Same advertisement appeared again with a dissimilar telephony identification number. I tripped over a chair in my precipitation to get to the telephone. Damn, no answer. At to the lowest degree the number was working this time. I just had to find out if this was for real.

A mates of minute and various unrequited attempt later the telephone was finally answered, by a machine. It verified the telephone number and instructed me to lead a message ; I hung up. What could I say to a machine ? Are you the machine with turgid breasts ? I sat around for a spell trying to decide if I should shout out again and what I would say if the damn political machine answered. My horniness won out and I dialed the telephony issue again.

The political machine answered. `` Ah, hello ... I am calling about the ad you placed in the newspaper publisher. 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, `` Hello, I do n't want to jazz your figure. name calling are not significant '', she said, `` The exclusively thing important to me is how a great deal you do like large tit. ``

'' I love large breasts ; they are the sexiest matter in the world."I replied.

'' Well you WILL have to try that to ME, '' the woman stated.

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

'' First you have to bonk there will be no fucking, '' she said flatly, `` You only get to fondle my boob as long as I want you too, and that 's it. Is that understood ? ``

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

'' That 's the way it will be, that 's part of the test. If you pass the test then I MIGHT give way you a wages. 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 boob or not ? '' she asked.

'' Christ ma'am you drive a difficult bargain,"I protested.

'' Yes or no. I have other phoner. ``

'' Okay gentlewoman okay, where and when ? ``

'' You know the notice lot by the aerodrome ? ``

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

'' The other one, in about a 60 minutes. '' she said, `` Can you be there in an 60 minutes ? ``

'' Yes I can ... but how will I know if you 're there ? ``

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

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

pacing back and forth in my living way to belt down fourth dimension and figure out what the hellhole I was getting myself into. I was getting nervous about this confluence. Maybe I am just paranoid. No, I 'm horny, darned horny. My last two girl did n't have got a decent set of tits even if you added them together. I think that is what I was missing in those relationships, tit lust.

So I have called a stranger, a cleaning woman who put an ad in the newspaper saying she wants someone to idolize her breasts. I have promised to meet her without knowing what she looks like or even if she will let me see her breasts. And speculative of all, she gets to correspond me out and if she does n't care what she sees I wo n't even bonk if she was there or not. If she does n't like me, I 'll bet the telephone gets disconnected again too.

What do I get out of all this, a vague promise of a reward ? If I worship her breast, how do you worship breast ? Get down on your knees bowing and proclaiming 'Oh holy knocker'. fountainhead at least I get to keep an eye on some airplane landing ; I have not done that in a while.



CHAPTER TWO - THE encounter


There were seven or eight machine in the viewing lot when I arrived. I parked at the rear of the lot, my car facing away from the airport as instructed by the female voice on the telephone. I turned off my railway locomotive but left the key on so I could listen to the radio as I waited. I got out and walked around to the vertebral column of the car to sit on the leftfield rear bumper as apprise. For about ten transactions, I watched cars pull in and out and tried to peer into the other automobile to try to visualize out if the large breasted charwoman was there.

It was getting dark rapidly on this fond moonless summertime Night. There was no illumination in the watch area ; all you could see was the headlamp of the expiration traffic and the bring lights on the aircraft and airport runway and taxi lights.

somebody approached me from the other side of meat of my car. All I could see in the darkness was that it was a womanhood wearing a tube top and slacks and carrying a huge flashlight. She walked up to me and shined the light directly in my optic. Totally ruining my dark vision, all I could see was red stars.

The woman 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 cover seat on the passenger side and fill up the threshold. ``

I did as she told me. She got in on the Lapp position in the battlefront rump and closed the room access. The woman twisted around and knelt in the look prat, facing in my direction. She reached out and pulled the headrest all the way up to the upper most post. Then she blinded me with that damn bright ass flashlight in my oculus again. I could not see make. Very clever I thought. She had positioned herself so she could see out the cover and side window of my car, and picket for anybody approaching. In gain, at the same sentence because of the blinding torch, all I could make out of her face was a blur with red spots.

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

I did not have a lot of sake in seeing her face at that metre. My only interest was in those marvellous mammilla lying on the back of the breast place begging to be kissed and fondled. She had told me that she did not need to be romanced. All she wanted was exactly what her advertising had said. I was more than willing to accommodate her desires.

I reached out slowly and gently caressed her huge breast with my hands. I could finger the weight of those teras tits in the medallion of my work force. Slowly I traced my fingernails along the sides of each breast toward her mammilla. The woman did not answer. However, her nipples did. Nipples do not lie. When a woman gets stimulated, her pap stick out. This woman 's mamilla 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 make them longer.

Lowering my lip to her result boob, I flicked her erect nipple with the tip of my lingua. The woman responded this clock time. She let out a soft moan. I flicked my clapper on the nipple of her right breast. She moaned again but this time her moan was just a advert longer and a little louder. With just two flicks of my natural language, I had figured out what I wanted to know. Yep it is her right chest. Being a breast fan has taught me that every woman has one chest that is more raw than the other one.

Therefore, I started on her less sensitive left tit. Opening my mouth all-inclusive and gently sucking in as much of her breast as would fit. Then very slowly, I started rotating my glossa around the mamilla in low rotary while lifting and squeezing as I was trying to force more tit into my mouth. It had the desired effect on her that I wanted. The woman moaned again and leaned even farther forward trying to coerce Sir Thomas More of her knocker into my mouth.

This erotic situation had an effect on me also. While toying with her magnificent knocker I grew one hell of a hardon. It had been a very prospicient clip since I had the pleasure of playing with big titty. The more I sucked and licked her breasts the More she moaned and the harder and more uncomfortable my dick became in my blue jeans.

The cleaning woman started humping against the seat back with her groin. It was then that I got a whiff of the odor. That pungent odour that emanates from a woman's pussy when she is in lust, it is the most aphrodisiac odor a man can smell. My dick throbbed painfully in my pants. I figured the only way that I could reek her stimulation was if the char had one paw down her morass, fingering her pussy. Just the thought of her fingering herself while I sucked her titties had my pecker leaking in my underwear.

It was now the right field sentence. I switched my tit sucking efforts to her right breast. Her reaction was both expected and appreciated. I love knowing I am doing a upright job. As I alternated between sucking hard and then gently but firmly flicking her nipple with my spit, she started moaning constantly and humping the hind end harder.


CHAPTER THREE - THE wages

I felt the charwoman 's script at my crotch tracing the outline of my hardon through my jeans. She had reached around the behind with her free hired hand and was trying to pull my zipper down. Releasing her knocker with my hands, I helped her. I unsnapped my jeans, unzipped them, and with great difficulty pushed them and my underpants down until they were at my mortise joint, I exposed my aching dick.

As soon as my dick was freed and I scooted up to the edge of the back place, the woman 's hand immediately encircled the shaft of my shaft. She definitely knew what she was doing. Slowly she stroked and squeezed my dick in time to my tit suction. Her thumb rubbed across the chief spreading my precum all over the well up head of my peter. Her fingernails were scraping the rim of the capitulum. She tickled the base of the head with her nails, squeezed the barb to develop More precum, and massaged it over the head again. Her receive hand was driving me up a bulwark. This woman knew how to razz a guy's dick. Well I know how to bug tits.

I started sucking and licking her mammilla with totally abandonment. Using my thumbs to squeeze the in spite of appearance portion of her bosom forcing her nipples closer together so I could snap the nipples of both bosom at the Same metre. This had the desired force ; she moaned louder than ever and started humping against the place back very hard, she momentarily forgot about my raging hardon.

Her breathing and moaning came rapidly with piddling `` oh oh oh oh ''. As she was getting real close to getting her rock music off, she maintained a death grip on my putz. I did n't listen, it did not hurt, and I do n't think that you could have hurt my dick by squeezing it even with a vise because it was so unanimous. Just as she was getting to the peak of her culmination, I let her find my teeth as I bit her nipples just hard enough to send off her over the edge. I love to make women have an orgasm.

As her orgasm subsided, I slowed my sucking and nibbling down to let her down gently. She on the other bridge player did just the polar with her hand on my dick.

Her hand started sliding rapidly up and down the shaft of my peter. The shaft was slick, well lubricated by the congius 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 best that I have ever had. She squeezed my dick exceptionally hard on the cobbler's last upstroke. It made cum shoot out of my prick like the shuttle taking off the rocket pad. Every metre my prick pulsed out another onus of sperm, she would force my shaft very tight on the up throw helping it and me reach new heights. My sperm cell squirted all over the back of the front ass. The woman just kept jacking my dick until my testicle were completely drained and my consistence was in a res publica of almost entire collapse.

All I could do is sit there with my drumhead resting against the tail back and pant, trying to enamour my breath. The womanhood released my rapidly softening tool and a few bit later the bonce light in my car came on. The car rocked back and forth, as she exited. I was too play out to lift my question up to look at the womanhood who had given me so much delight. Besides, if I tried to look at her she would just dim me with that damn flash light again, so I did not even try. I felt her hand caressing the tomentum on the back of my head through the open window just before she turned to leave.

The last thing I heard her say as her footstep crunched off into the length in the gravel parking lot and the darkness was, `` bid me tomorrow. ``

THE END