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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Left Alone
By Anonymous (address withheld)

***

Oversexed wife, anticipating an evening of passionate 
lovemaking, writes of marathon masturbation session 
when husband is called away for an emergency. Graphic 
and explicit. (F-solo, mast)

***

I was angry at my husband. We had just finished 
celebrating our 4th anniversary with a nice dinner and 
a bottle of champagne. We had put our young twin girls 
to bed and started a very definitely X rated evening 
when the phone rang. It was the hospital. A school bus 
returning from a late basketball game had overturned 
and he, as head of the traumatic injury unit, was 
required to help care for the injured. He apologized 
for breaking off our celebration, then told me that he 
probably would not return until morning.

And there I was, engine warmed up. Hot as a race car 
ready to run the Indianapolis 500. Without a driver to 
take me around the track. I doffed my sexy outfit and 
prepared to put on my nightgown. After I undressed for 
bed I looked at myself in the full length mirror in 
the bathroom. I turned slowly from side to side. As 
always, I was entranced by the view. The reflection 
showed a well-toned woman with big tits, a nice body 
and great legs. 

I was always excited by the sight of my own body and 
the thought of the many hours my husband and I could 
spend enjoying its delights. But tonight I was so hot 
that I was determined to take care of myself. I would 
play with every part of my body that I could, tits, 
ass, cunt, and have the mother of all climaxes. 

"I like the way I look," I said quietly to no one in 
particular. "If I were a lesbian, I would love to "do" 
me myself." I imagined myself sucking and licking a 
mirror image of my body and I got turned on by the 
very thought. How wonderful it would be to go 69 with 
my mirror image, giving and receiving orgasms for 
hours. I admired my dark hair, deep blue eyes, and 
creamy skin. My gaze wandered over my breasts, soft 
globes of flesh that seemed to invite caresses and 
fondling. 

If my husband prefers taking care of a bunch of 
bleeding teen agers to fucking me into a screaming 
orgasm, I'll show him. I'll "do" myself after I finish 
the bottle of champagne. I may even stick the neck of 
the bottle in my cunt and move it back and forth until 
I cum. But there is still some champagne left in the 
bottle so I'll play with my boobies until I finish it. 
That should get me started.

When I was younger, I often longed to be able to kiss 
and even suck my own nipples the way I had seen porn 
stars do in those late night TV movies. But with my 
perky school girl boobs I could never do it. I found 
that my little titties were exquisitely sensitive and 
I loved to play with them. I could even make myself 
cum if I stroked them in just the right way. My 
boyfriend, who graduated to being  my husband, could 
suck my entire boob in his mouth when he made love to 
me.

"More than a mouthful is a waste," he claimed.
 
My husband and I made love almost every night the 
first year we got married. Of course I got pregnant. 
We wanted to have children and we got blessed with 
twins. Despite my small boobs, I was determined to 
breast feed my two babies. I must have been quite a 
sight. A tiny babe dangling from each tit. It was a 
joy.

As the children nursed, my breasts grew. Within three 
months I had moved from A cup to B cup, and in another 
month to a C cup. After nine months of nursing, I was 
a D cup, maybe even larger. Possibly a DD. I was 
determined to nurse my babies for a year and I 
wondered how big my boobs would actually get. Don't 
worry, said my pediatrician. They will go down in size 
when you stop nursing. I hoped they wouldn't. I liked 
having big boobs.

My husband liked them too. In the evening, after the 
kids were in bed, we would sit side by side on the 
sofa, watching TV and sipping a delicious cocktail. 
His hand would sneak into the front of my dress and 
fondle one of my boobs. That was nice.

After nine months of my twins sucking at my tits every 
four hours my breasts were no longer the apple sized 
boobs that I had when I was in college. They were now 
the same size as small melons and had become slightly 
pendulous. Breast feeding, and enthusiastic loving 
does that to you. Standing erect my nipples nearly 
reached my belly button. Don't get me wrong. My 
breasts were not ugly. 

In fact they were quite nice. They were full and meaty 
but they looked like they belonged on a much bigger 
woman. They were no longer the tits of a teen aged 
bunny, more like those of a burlesque star or an 
artist's model.

At first I was disappointed in the change in my lovely 
boobs but their new super-size made sex more enjoyable 
for both me and my husband.

Sometimes, after I finished nursing the twins and put 
them in their cribs, he would grab me by my still 
dripping nipples and pull me into the bedroom using my 
boobies like reins. I often tried to resist just to 
see my big breasts stretching out in front of me as he 
tugged. The harder he pulled, the more I liked it. My 
titties enjoyed being handled roughly. By the time he 
dragged me to the bed, I was ready to cum at the 
slightest touch.

My mom always claimed that even as a baby I would put 
everything in my mouth. I guess it figures that as an 
adult I got sensual gratification from sucking and 
kissing my body parts. I wasn't able to suck my own 
cunt although I would have liked to do it. I loved 
when my husband did it to me. When he was away on a 
trip I wished I could do it to myself. But even if I 
couldn't eat myself, my breasts were within reach of 
my mouth. 

So those times I was by myself and I need a little 
sexual fulfillment, after I fed the babies, I would 
lean my head down and kiss my boobs. Then I would pull 
the end of my tit up to my lips, work around the 
areola, press the rough nipple between my lips and 
suck.

I reveled in feeling the nipple grow as I flicked my 
tongue over the tip. It became as big and hard as an 
acorn. At least it felt that way to me. I chewed the 
end softly between my teeth. It was a lovely tender 
morsel of sexual excitement. I had to resist the 
temptation to bite down hard, to feel total ecstasy 
from my lovely boobs. Had I not been so careful, I 
might have even bitten the nipple off.

The taste of my milk was heavenly. Often, after an 
evening meal alone, I would nurse the sweet milk from 
my own nipple as dessert. I knew that sucking the milk 
from my breasts was supposed to be "sick" but they 
were my own tits and I could do what I wanted with 
them.

I guess I'll have another swig of champagne now. The 
buzz seems to be wearing off.

My husband and I invented tit games that always ended 
in a satisfying love making session. I would let him 
titty fuck me, his hard cock between my fleshy 
breasts. I would press his cock head and one nipple 
together into a little flower bouquet of sex. I licked 
cock head and nipple alternately. If I opened my mouth 
wide I could suck both my nipples and his cock at the 
same time. Everything was well lubricated with 
driblets of pre-cum and milk.

It turned up both on. Chewing my nipples and his cock 
together was super sexy. On one memorable suck, he 
ejaculated into my mouth while my nipples spewed milk. 
I could taste everything together. A real delicacy. 
The only reason we didn't do it more often is that it 
made such a mess that I had to change the sheets.

Whenever my husband had to work the evening shift I 
masturbated. This is how I did it tonight, at least 
this is how I wrote it in my diary. I may have missed 
a few of the details but it's hard to think clearly 
when your body is shaking in orgasm.

I started by raising a tit to my mouth so that my lips 
could encircle a nipple. Sucking my nipple was like 
scratching an itch. It felt good but I figured that I 
could stop at any time. But the itch wasn't satisfied 
by a simple scratch. It demanded more attention, 
required more vigorous sucking and even a bit of 
chewing until it grew into a full-fledged sexual urge. 
I massaged my breast harder and deeper and then 
touched my other sexual parts. 

The urge became a conscious desire for sexual release. 
I couldn't force myself to stop at this point. My body 
insisted that I touch and finger fuck myself to a 
climax. The world vanished. I concentrated on my tits 
and cunt, how they felt, what I could do to them. In 
my mind my cunt seemed to grow until it encompassed my 
entire body. I became all longing cunt and clitoris, 
desperately needing satisfaction. 

My legs started an involuntary shaking and my hips 
rose to meet the thrusts of my hand in my vagina. It 
was automatic. My lower body was out of my conscious 
control. I knew that a climax was not far off, less 
than a minute away. I saw my legs stretch out in front 
of me and begin to stiffen. I stroked my clitoris. My 
thighs got rigid, my body shook and spasmed. I bit 
down hard on my tittie. I would have tooth marks in 
the morning but it felt so good now. 

My fingers plunged deep into my vagina. They worked in 
and out, pressing and rubbing my clitoris with each 
stroke. I was no longer directing my actions. My hands 
and mouth had a will of their own. I was rising, 
rising to a glorious orgasm. Everything vanished 
except the overwhelming feelings from my pussy as I 
came. I'll never know how I avoided waking the 
children with my screams of pleasure.
 
I guess I'll finish the champagne now. There is no 
need to stick the end of the bottle in my cunt. My 
fingers will work just fine. My husband will never 
know what he missed.

END

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 74