I hailed a cab at the Seattle airport, told the cabbie
the name of my hotel, and then slumped into the back
seat. It had been a long trip from Boston and I was
tired. Tomorrow I would start a three week
familiarization program on the intricacies of the new
Boeing 767 in order to flesh out the section on modern
aircraft design for the book I was writing.
Tufts University, my new employer, was caught up in the
“publish or perish” syndrome and expected me to
contribute profusely to the technical literature in my
field. After four years in Iraq, my education had been
subsidized by the Air Force. My job at the college was
my first academic position and I wanted to get promoted.
It would make my parents proud.
I had done well so far by myself. My parents, Irish
immigrants, had little education. My father was a
carpenter, my mother a seamstress. They were sturdy
people, the salt of the earth, who tried to make sure
that their children had good moral values and a proper
education. In that respect they were like dozens of
other Boston Irish.
The only unique feature of the family was that due to a
genetic quirk, everyone, all my brothers and sisters,
had red hair. I was called “carrot top” all through
grade school. After a while I didn’t mind. I made sure,
though, to always wear a helmet in Iraq. A red head
makes a great target.
Reclining in the back seat of the cab I let my mind
drift back to my early high school days. Handy with
tools, I earned spending money by doing small house
maintenance jobs for neighbors. One of my regular
customers was the Swenson family who lived a few doors
down the street. Mr. Swenson was a huge, jolly man, a
merchant seaman who was gone for months at a time. His
current trip on an oil tanker would take six months to
complete. His wife, Inga, was a Swedish country girl he
met and married during one of my trips. They had one
child, a five month old baby girl.
Inga was a big woman, not fat, just big. She was over
six feet tall and farm girl sturdy. Very nicely formed
but of Amazonian proportions. She always smelled fresh,
of soap and water, just as if she had stepped out of a
bath. I thought she could have been a model for the
larger than life sized statue of justice in front of the
county courthouse. She was forthright and plainspoken
and had a twinkling eye and a hearty laugh. Inga was
very down to earth. Nothing about the human condition
surprised her.
I often devoured her with my eyes when she wasn’t
looking. Her exaggerated figure made her resemble one of
the female Superheroes in my adventure comic books. She
was often the featured character in my masturbation
fantasies. Of course any real contact was impossible.
She was old, at least twice my age.
One afternoon I was in their living room assembling a
stereo cabinet kit when Inga walked in with her baby
cradled in one arm. She was nursing the child, one large
breast hanging out of her loose housedress. My eyes were
glued to the huge tit. It was the first time I had ever
seen a real woman’s naked breast. I couldn’t help but
stare – and of course Inga noticed. “Haven’t you ever
seen anyone breast feed a baby before?” she asked. I
admitted that I hadn’t. “Mom always used a bottle with
my baby sister.”
Inga shrugged, “Ve do dis all the time at home – it’s
just natural and I don’t have to wash all those little
bottles.” By tmy time the baby had finished and Inga
burped her and put her down into her portable crib. Her
housedress was still open and when she bent over I could
see both tits hanging freely. The sight was spectacular.
Inga’s breasts were enormous, each bigger than a five
pound bag of sugar. They hung down on her chest to near
belly button level. The nipples were the size of a large
thimble and were centered in a brown patch as big as a
saucer. I felt an erection growing. I tried to hide it
as best he could but teen-age male hormones are hard to
resist.
I tried to change the subject. “What does it taste
like?” I asked, realizing too late that I hadn’t changed
the subject at all.
Inga sat down on the couch. “Vel, it tastes like…” She
hesitated a moment, then said, “I can’t describe it. Vy
don’t you come over here and find out?”
She held one naked breast up with both hands and offered
it to me. Her erect nipple stood out brown and firm from
the center of her areola. A droplet of milk clung to it.
I staggered over in a daze and sat next to her. “Now put
my little bump in your mouth and start sucking. Don’t
bite me though.” She put one hand behind my head and
placed her nipple in my gaping mouth.
I felt the rough nipple with my tongue and closed my
lips around it. I started sucking like through a straw
but nothing came out. “You have to squeeze the flesh
around the nipple with your lips for the milk to start,
just like milking a cow” coached Inga. “That’s how the
babies do it.”
I followed her instructions. Although I had never milked
a cow I was rewarded with a slight flow of liquid. It
was warm and sweet but thin. Sort of like sweetened skim
milk. The milk was surprising rich with a slightly
bitter aftertaste. I didn’t normally like warm milk but
I sure liked what came out of Inga’s huge breasts.
Inga pressed my head into her breast as I sucked. I was
embarrassed by my raging erection. I hoped that Inga
wouldn’t notice. No such luck. With her other hand Inga
unzipped my fly, pulled out my hard penis, and began
stroking it. It was so matter of fact that I had no time
to pull back. With a few of Inga’s strong strokes I
erupted, spewing cum over her hand and housedress. I
felt deeply ashamed. Inga would never want to see me
again.
Inga gently pulled her nipple from my still sucking
mouth. “Don’t worry,” she said. “That’s how it is with
young boys. You end so quickly. Come back tomorrow and
ve will see if we can make it last.”
The next day after school I returned. After all, I still
had the cabinet to finish. Inga greeted me at the door
dressed in a robe. Her blonde hair was not in its usual
bun but was loose, flowing around her shoulders.
“Forget about the cabinet. I need your help with
something else. Follow me.” She led me to the bedroom.
“Take off your clothes and watch me.” I took off my
shirt and jeans. “The underwear too,” said Inga. I
followed her instructions. Inga was my employer and I
needed the money. In a few moments I was completely
unclothed.
Standing before me Inga shrugged off her robe. With her
powerful legs, big hips, narrow waist and huge breasts,
she was like the court house statue come to life, but
naked. I was a bit frightened and intimidated but
strongly aroused. She certainly didn’t look like any of
the thin girls at high school. My cock sprang to full
erection within seconds. Inga put her hands under her
breasts and hoisted them up so that I could get a better
view.
“Have you never seen a nude woman before?” I shook my
head. “Well then, you have a lot to learn. Ve have our
first lesson today.”
“These are my breasts. Some people call them tits or
titties. They make milk for babies. The milk comes out
the little holes in my nipple. Watch closely.” Inga
pinched her nipple and areola and drops of milk emerged.
“Babies like to suck on nipples – even some grown men
like it. But you know all about that from yesterday.”
“Does it hurt to make milk?” I asked. “No,” said Inga.
“Most of the time it feels very good. Especially when it
is a man doing the sucking. Ve do that soon.”
“Now look down here.” She dropped her breast with a plop
and put her hand on the hairy mound between her legs.
“Tmy is where my vagina or cunt is. You put your penis
in my vagina when you want to make a baby.” She stroked
the fur and let her finger slip a bit inside. She guided
my hand to her vagina and let me feel the lips and
clitoris. Then she put my finger into the moist opening.
Inga’s hand on mine moved my finger in and out for a few
moments. Then she stopped.
“It feels very good when you try to make a baby. Ve do
that too. But first we do tmy.”
Inga dropped to her knees in front of me and took my
engorged penis in her mouth. She put one large arm
around my ass to stop me from moving away and started
sucking the end and stroking the shaft. I started
squirming, She alternated short strokes with powerful
sucks. I couldn’t hold my orgasm back any longer and
tried to tell her.
“I’m going to cum!” I moaned.
“Dat’s the whole idea,” said Inga. “Come into my mouth.
Ve do tmy so you don’t come too soon later.”
I erupted. Inga swallowed everything I had to give.
“That felt good, didn’t it?” Inga asked.
“Wonderful,” I replied, “but I’m getting soft now.”
“Don’t worry. Young boys can get hard right away. I’ll
make you hard. Hold my breast. See the soft nipple. Play
with the nipple and lick it and see what happens.” She
lifted one of her huge breasts and put it in my hands.
“Hold my breast at the back, then draw your hands slowly
forvard. Squeeze a little, as if you were milking me.
Don’t forget about the nipples.” I focused my attention
on the brown nipple. “Squeeze it and lick it,” said
Inga. “Don’t be too gentle.”
I started playing with the breast, twisting it and
pressing it with my fingers. The breast was heavy but
very resilient. It felt like a layer of flesh over a
much denser core. There was a lot of meat packed inside
it. I rubbed my hands over the areola and licked the
nipple and all around it. In the meantime Inga had one
large hand around my balls and the other massaging my
cock. I sucked and nibbled the nipple, pulling most of
her brown areola into my mouth. After I let it out I
watched Inga’s nipple grow. It stiffened and extended
and the little bumps around the areola became more
prominent. A few drops of milk emerged from the now
turgid nipple.
“See how hard it gets.” Inga said. “All it needs is a
little attention. Just like your cock.”
I realized that Inga’s magic touch had now made my penis
as hard as it had ever been.
“Now we show you how to put your penis in my hole.”
Inga lay back on the bed and pulled me over her. I
balanced on her firm body and full thighs. My face fell
into the canyon between her breasts. There was very
little soft about Inga except her huge tits. She took my
rigid penis in her hand. “First ve rub your cock against
tmy little button here. That gets me nice and ready.
Then we put it inside.” She began to rub the head of my
cock against her now prominent clitoris, first gently,
then harder and harder. I could feel the vagina lips
getting wetter and wetter.
“Now inside,” said Inga as she guided me into her. “Now
pull it in and out. That’s called fucking.”
At this point I hardly needed instruction. Instinct was
in command. my rigid penis was in a well of wetness and
it felt like a hot moist hand was closing on it and
stroking it.
Inga thrust a mountain of breast into my gaping mouth
and whispered demandingly, “Suck it. Suck my nipple
while you fuck me. Bite me. Fuck me!”
And fuck we did. I moved my hips up and down, driven by
contractions of Inga’s big muscular thighs. Inga cried,
“That’s it, faster, harder, faster.” I felt her body
grinding against my cock as we fucked. Inga’s wet
swollen nipple slipped from my mouth. Suddenly Inga
started shaking, then moving more and more violently.
“Dat’s good, dat’s good, yah, YAH!” shouted Inga.
I knew something big was happening. I felt myself
cumming but my feelings were submerged in the earthquake
that was Inga’s orgasm.
After a while Inga said, “You fuck very good for a
beginner. Now we have something to eat and then we do it
again.”
Inga was insatiable. After we had eaten, Inga washed
herself then simply said, “Now it’s time to play with my
cunt again.” She led me to the bedroom and lay down on
the bed. “Put your fingers next to the slit and move
them slowly back and forth. When you feel the little
button get hard, gently lick it with your tongue. Then
watch closely to see what happens. It will be your
lesson for today.”
I started caressing Inga’s cunt slowly, running my
fingers through the hair on each side of the slit. Inga
kept saying, “Dat’s good,” as if to guide me. I could
feel the moisture start to flow as the clitoris began to
protrude. Inga clutched her breasts and droplets of milk
seeped out of the nipples.
“Now suck me, lick my button.” said Inga. I lowered my
mouth to the clitoris, wrapped my lips around the
protruding nub, and started licking with my tongue.
Inga’s muscular body started to writhe and buck, almost
throwing me off.
“Oh, I think I’m going to cum! You are making me cum!”
she said, almost as if it was a surprise. “I’m about to
cum soon! Look at me. Put your fingers inside me and
keep moving them in and out.” I raised my head to see
Inga’s convulsing body, always moving my three fingers
in Inga’s cunt. She was yelling, “YAH, YAH! I’M CUMMING!
I’M CUMMING!!” again and again.
And she did cum, hysterically wracked by her climax in a
long shuddering explosion. She insisted that I keep my
eyes open so that I could see her orgasmic explosion.
“Did you like what you saw? You can make a woman cum
just by licking and stroking her in the right place.
It’s a good lesson. You did it just right. You learn
quick.”
She came repeatedly that afternoon, as did I. Sometimes
we fucked, sometimes we simply rubbed and sucked each
other to completion. Nothing beats a 15 year old for
endurance.
My sex education continued each afternoon for the next
six months. There was a different lesson each day. I
learned just about all there was to learn about the
female body. Inga’s appetite for sex was as great as her
physical size. She was totally uninhibited. Everything
was permissible. I played with her massive breasts,
sometimes squeezing them with all my strength. They were
more than a handful.
When Inga got excited she liked me to bite and chew on
her nipples, sometimes hard enough to draw blood. I
sucked her clitoris until it grew almost to the size of
a walnut while Inga moaned in ecstasy, imprisoning my
head with her powerful thighs while she ran her hands
through my red hair.
Once during one of our “lessons”, the baby woke up and
demanded to be fed. Inga put the baby to one huge breast
and pressed my head to the other, having us nurse milk
from both of them simultaneously. I moved my hand down
to Inga’s wet clit and finger fucked her to repeated
climaxes, feeling her Amazonian body shudder repeatedly
in orgasm. After the baby had eaten its fill, Inga gave
me a blow job lasting almost an hour to make up for the
“interruption.”
Often Inga let me climax between her breasts, spewing
cum into her face and mouth. We ended each day’s lesson
with a spectacular fuck that drained every bit of sperm
from my overworked balls.
Just before it was time for me to go home Inga would
caress my cock until it got hard.
“Time to say good night.” she would say. “Eat me, suck
my milk, and then put yourself in me. Fuck me good. Then
go home and eat dinner. You have to keep up your
strength for our lesson tomorrow.”
Then Inga would pull me over to the bed and wrap her
legs around me. I loved her legs. They were strong and
muscular with full calves that pummeled my back when we
fucked.
“Don’t forget, rub your cock on my button until you feel
me start to shake. Suck my titties too. Milk me. That’s
the way. MILK ME LIKE A COW! SUCK MY TITTIE HARD! SUCK
ME! MILK ME! YES, I’M ALMOST THERE! NOW GO INSIDE! FUCK
ME, FUCK ME HARD! YA! YA! I’M GOING TO CUM! I’M CUMMING!
YA! CUUMMMMINNNG!”
Inga exploded in ecstasy, as did I.
After catching out breath; “That was very nice,” she
said. “You have learned your lessons vell. I’ll see you
tomorrow.”
Sex might be fun and games, but with Inga there were no
games, it was all fun.
I didn’t realize it at the time that Inga’s attitude was
shared by few other women. I never met anyone else who
got as much joy from the sheer pleasure of sex.
Our idyll ended just as the winter snow started falling.
Inga’s husband came home from his six month long cruise
and announced that he had accepted a job as the
harbormaster in Seattle, Washington. The Swensons moved
away. The next year I graduated high school. Eventually
I succumbed to the Air Force’s offer of a free college
education for enlistment. Inga’s legacy was my lifelong
obsession with huge milky breasts and direct lusty and
uncomplicated fucking. The stereo cabinet never got
completed.
Although it had all happened years ago, I was still
curious about what became of the Swensons. I discovered
that they were still living in Seattle. Their address
was listed in the phone book. It was in a small suburb
just outside of the city. One afternoon after the daily
session at Boeing was over, I rented a car to drive out,
hoping to catch a sight of Inga. I knew that there was
little chance of picking up where we left off over ten
years ago. I just wanted to get closure.
The Swenson’s home was a neat white cottage with a big
yard. I parked my car across the street just as a school
bus pulled up. The house door opened revealing a very
large sturdy woman. I recognized her immediately as Inga
but she had gained weight. Her breasts, which had been
huge before, were now enormous. Suffocatingly big. Her
face was now middle aged. But she still had the same
twinkle in her eye. I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to
say hello.
As I was about to open my car door two screaming boys
burst out of the school bus. They punched each other as
they ran to the house. Both were about ten years old,
obviously twins. Each had shockingly red hair. Inga
grabbed them and hustled them into the house shutting
the door behind her. I put my car into gear and drove
away.
The story was complete. Time to go home.