Memories of boobs past. #1 - Auntie Muriel.
When I was a k**, I had a confusing array of Aunties and Uncles. Once I learned what the family connections were that made actual aunties and uncles, I was even more confused, because now I had about 20 of them that I KNEW weren't related. You can do some messed up shit to a k** at that age.
Anyhow, one such non-family "Auntie" was my Auntie Muriel. I don't know how she came to be a member of our extended family, but she was, and when this happened, it had always been that way to me.
When I was 8 years old, my Mum was having to spend a lot of time at the hospital with my Grandma, who was sick, and I spent a few weeks of my summer holidays at Auntie Muriel's place. Now Muriel was a giant of a woman to my scrawny little 8-year old mind. She was much taller than my Mum or her sister, so she must have been close to six feet tall; but willowy she was not. She was what was described then as "thick," big legs, big hips, big booty and allelujah, big (and I mean really big) boobs. She loved to hug me, and I'd happily bury my face in her belly and wrap my arms as far as I could get them around her big comfy hips and stay there for hours while she stroked my hair and told me how I was her favorite nephew. Looking up didn't allow me to see her smiling face though. Oh no, looking up was the amazing sight of the underneath of her copious bosom. I can only describe it as a bosom, because although it stood out from her body a good six inches, there was nothing that could identify it as anything related to breasts at all. Muriel always wore a blue apron/housecoat thingy that wrapped tightly around her bust and belly, holding everything in place and disguising what real curves she may have had. Nonetheless, I had a pretty good idea what was in there and my precocious little 8-year old cock would be rigid in my shorts within seconds of being hugged by her.
Muriel liked to take a nap in the afternoon. After a while I got into the rhythm of how long she would sleep, and one day I decided to make her a cup of tea and bring it to her in bed. I opened her bedroom door very quietly so as not to spoil the surprise, and as my eyes got used to the gloom of the curtained room, I could make out the slumbering form of my Auntie, and a pile of clothes on the floor by the bed.
I moved closer, looking to put the cup and saucer down on the nightstand before I dropped it and scared the hell out of her. I gingerly set it down, gratified that I'd managed to do it in virtual silence, and turned expecting to see her eyes open and looking at me. Instead, she was still sound asleep. "Hmm,hmmm" I coughed, gently, trying to wake her as easily as possible. "Auntie Muriel? I've brought you a cup of tea" Still no sign of her stirring at all. I looked around and my eyes fell on the pile of clothes. The blue apron was there and some kind of tweed skirt, and something lumpy looking. I bent down for a closer look in the half light of the room. It was her bra! And from what I could see, it looked very substantial.
I'd been jerking off to the "ladies foundation garments" section of my Mum's mail order catalog for a few years by then, so I knew a serious bit of corsetry when I saw it. I reached down and ran my fingers lightly along the inside of one big cup. No, make that a HUGE cup. My ever-ready cock was completely hard, and I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure she hadn't woken up before reaching down inside my shorts and making my erection a little more comfortable.
I reached down to the bra and flipping it over, ran my fingers over the broad band and the five hooks that secured it at the back. A size tag caught my eye, and I had to get right down on my hands and knees to read its faded lettering. "The Playtex Cross Your Heart Bra" it said and underneath, in thick capital letters, the legend: "SIZE 38G" Now I didn't know then what I know now, because this was the very beginning of my obsession with big breasts, but I knew it was a lot bigger than my Mum's 36D's and my older sister's 34C's. And even back then, at the ripe old age of eight coming on nine, I knew that had to be a good thing.
Realising that all that hardware being on the ground meant that it wasn't between me and my Aunt's huge fucking tits did nothing to subside my erection, so stepping away from the bed and a little behind the night stand to conceal my hard cock, I coughed the polite English cough again, a little louder this time, and she opened her eyes. Smiling my best "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" smile at her, I said "Hi Auntie M,* hope you had a nice nap. I made you a cup of tea."
Well she loved that, and when eventually she was up and dressed again, I got an extra big dose of hugs, and this time, I stood up on my tip-toes so that I could nuzzle my little head in underneath that awesom bosom. When she leant forward to hug me even closer, and I felt the weight of her breasts on my head, I thought my little cock would explode.
So that was the beginning of a daily ritual for us. She'd strip off her uncomfortable clothes, and slipping into a plain white cotton nightie, take a nap for an hour or so, and I'd bring her a cup of tea to wake her up. As the days wore on, I got more confident that she'd stay asleep until I woke her, and I started my quest to see what she was hiding under all those clothes, and exactly what 38G meant in real terms. I began with gently lifting the covers so I could see an inch or so of cleavage in the gloom. She slept foetal position on her left side facing the edge of the bed. Her left arm always was tucked underneath her breasts, and her right arm d****d over the top. The effect, especially to a young horny boy who'd never been so close to naked flesh before, was much like a pin-up pose, except lying down. As I grew bolder, I would sit on the floor right next to her so I could get my head right in there. Just as I thought I'd reached the limit of what I could see without risking waking her, the summer weather arrived, and on the first hot day I came into her room to find the covers thrown right off. She was turned more onto her back than usual, and her right arm was flung up above her head which, for once, was facing away from me. It was hot in the room -- stuffy, and a light film of perspiration was on her face and, more interestingly for me, on her chest too. The white button thru nightie was pulled far down on her chest, and I had an uninterrupted view of more than a foot of tight, plump, beautiful cleavage, and the clear outline of her dark areole through the slightly damp white cotton of her nightie. I reached in my shorts to rearrange my hard on and realised how good my hand felt on my cock at that moment. This was the ultimate fantasy for me - as much as I could have hoped for when I cooked up the whole cup of tea idea a week or so before.* I started pulling on my stiff cock and felt the familar tingles of approaching orgasm (I hadn't started to ejaculate then, but I'd been wanking for a few years already and know how to make myself feel good. I leaned forward, my face not even an inch from her lush cleavage, my hand working away inside my shorts just a few inches from her head. I breathed deeply of her perfume and making sure I burned the image of her huge and wonderful breasts into my mind I jacked off over my unaware Auntie's sleeping body. As I came, a little noise escaped my lips and she started awake. Thinking quickly, I grabbed for the covers that she'd tossed off and pulled them up over her magnificent tits. "Oh I'm sorry Auntie, I didn't mean to wake you, I just thought you might be a little chilly." Damn, I was slick. Eight years old, and a fucking slick little peeping tom jerk-off artist already. And thus it began.
I wish I could say there was a porn movie ending and that she suddenly realized how she needed a little boy stud with a 3" penis to ravish her, but that's not what happened. The days stayed warm, and I got a few more more chances to jerk off while staring at her breasts over the next couple of weeks until my Grandma was better and my Mum didn't need to be with her every day.
Aunt Muriel seemed like an old lady to me back then, but thinking about it, she was probably in her 30's somewhere, 10 years younger than I am now. So for all you beautiful, sexy, oh-so-fuckable larger women I say this. Though you may have no idea it's happening, don't hide all that good stuff under baggy clothes and heavy control garments. You are gorgeous, and somewhere around, maybe closer than you think, there's a little boy, or a middle aged man who remembers being a little boy, for whom you are the ultimate masturbation fantasy. And if I had the same chance today, I'd leap at it with both hands and both feet.
Thanks Muriel. The memory of your magnificent tits can still make me come forty years later.
Anyhow, one such non-family "Auntie" was my Auntie Muriel. I don't know how she came to be a member of our extended family, but she was, and when this happened, it had always been that way to me.
When I was 8 years old, my Mum was having to spend a lot of time at the hospital with my Grandma, who was sick, and I spent a few weeks of my summer holidays at Auntie Muriel's place. Now Muriel was a giant of a woman to my scrawny little 8-year old mind. She was much taller than my Mum or her sister, so she must have been close to six feet tall; but willowy she was not. She was what was described then as "thick," big legs, big hips, big booty and allelujah, big (and I mean really big) boobs. She loved to hug me, and I'd happily bury my face in her belly and wrap my arms as far as I could get them around her big comfy hips and stay there for hours while she stroked my hair and told me how I was her favorite nephew. Looking up didn't allow me to see her smiling face though. Oh no, looking up was the amazing sight of the underneath of her copious bosom. I can only describe it as a bosom, because although it stood out from her body a good six inches, there was nothing that could identify it as anything related to breasts at all. Muriel always wore a blue apron/housecoat thingy that wrapped tightly around her bust and belly, holding everything in place and disguising what real curves she may have had. Nonetheless, I had a pretty good idea what was in there and my precocious little 8-year old cock would be rigid in my shorts within seconds of being hugged by her.
Muriel liked to take a nap in the afternoon. After a while I got into the rhythm of how long she would sleep, and one day I decided to make her a cup of tea and bring it to her in bed. I opened her bedroom door very quietly so as not to spoil the surprise, and as my eyes got used to the gloom of the curtained room, I could make out the slumbering form of my Auntie, and a pile of clothes on the floor by the bed.
I moved closer, looking to put the cup and saucer down on the nightstand before I dropped it and scared the hell out of her. I gingerly set it down, gratified that I'd managed to do it in virtual silence, and turned expecting to see her eyes open and looking at me. Instead, she was still sound asleep. "Hmm,hmmm" I coughed, gently, trying to wake her as easily as possible. "Auntie Muriel? I've brought you a cup of tea" Still no sign of her stirring at all. I looked around and my eyes fell on the pile of clothes. The blue apron was there and some kind of tweed skirt, and something lumpy looking. I bent down for a closer look in the half light of the room. It was her bra! And from what I could see, it looked very substantial.
I'd been jerking off to the "ladies foundation garments" section of my Mum's mail order catalog for a few years by then, so I knew a serious bit of corsetry when I saw it. I reached down and ran my fingers lightly along the inside of one big cup. No, make that a HUGE cup. My ever-ready cock was completely hard, and I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure she hadn't woken up before reaching down inside my shorts and making my erection a little more comfortable.
I reached down to the bra and flipping it over, ran my fingers over the broad band and the five hooks that secured it at the back. A size tag caught my eye, and I had to get right down on my hands and knees to read its faded lettering. "The Playtex Cross Your Heart Bra" it said and underneath, in thick capital letters, the legend: "SIZE 38G" Now I didn't know then what I know now, because this was the very beginning of my obsession with big breasts, but I knew it was a lot bigger than my Mum's 36D's and my older sister's 34C's. And even back then, at the ripe old age of eight coming on nine, I knew that had to be a good thing.
Realising that all that hardware being on the ground meant that it wasn't between me and my Aunt's huge fucking tits did nothing to subside my erection, so stepping away from the bed and a little behind the night stand to conceal my hard cock, I coughed the polite English cough again, a little louder this time, and she opened her eyes. Smiling my best "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" smile at her, I said "Hi Auntie M,* hope you had a nice nap. I made you a cup of tea."
Well she loved that, and when eventually she was up and dressed again, I got an extra big dose of hugs, and this time, I stood up on my tip-toes so that I could nuzzle my little head in underneath that awesom bosom. When she leant forward to hug me even closer, and I felt the weight of her breasts on my head, I thought my little cock would explode.
So that was the beginning of a daily ritual for us. She'd strip off her uncomfortable clothes, and slipping into a plain white cotton nightie, take a nap for an hour or so, and I'd bring her a cup of tea to wake her up. As the days wore on, I got more confident that she'd stay asleep until I woke her, and I started my quest to see what she was hiding under all those clothes, and exactly what 38G meant in real terms. I began with gently lifting the covers so I could see an inch or so of cleavage in the gloom. She slept foetal position on her left side facing the edge of the bed. Her left arm always was tucked underneath her breasts, and her right arm d****d over the top. The effect, especially to a young horny boy who'd never been so close to naked flesh before, was much like a pin-up pose, except lying down. As I grew bolder, I would sit on the floor right next to her so I could get my head right in there. Just as I thought I'd reached the limit of what I could see without risking waking her, the summer weather arrived, and on the first hot day I came into her room to find the covers thrown right off. She was turned more onto her back than usual, and her right arm was flung up above her head which, for once, was facing away from me. It was hot in the room -- stuffy, and a light film of perspiration was on her face and, more interestingly for me, on her chest too. The white button thru nightie was pulled far down on her chest, and I had an uninterrupted view of more than a foot of tight, plump, beautiful cleavage, and the clear outline of her dark areole through the slightly damp white cotton of her nightie. I reached in my shorts to rearrange my hard on and realised how good my hand felt on my cock at that moment. This was the ultimate fantasy for me - as much as I could have hoped for when I cooked up the whole cup of tea idea a week or so before.* I started pulling on my stiff cock and felt the familar tingles of approaching orgasm (I hadn't started to ejaculate then, but I'd been wanking for a few years already and know how to make myself feel good. I leaned forward, my face not even an inch from her lush cleavage, my hand working away inside my shorts just a few inches from her head. I breathed deeply of her perfume and making sure I burned the image of her huge and wonderful breasts into my mind I jacked off over my unaware Auntie's sleeping body. As I came, a little noise escaped my lips and she started awake. Thinking quickly, I grabbed for the covers that she'd tossed off and pulled them up over her magnificent tits. "Oh I'm sorry Auntie, I didn't mean to wake you, I just thought you might be a little chilly." Damn, I was slick. Eight years old, and a fucking slick little peeping tom jerk-off artist already. And thus it began.
I wish I could say there was a porn movie ending and that she suddenly realized how she needed a little boy stud with a 3" penis to ravish her, but that's not what happened. The days stayed warm, and I got a few more more chances to jerk off while staring at her breasts over the next couple of weeks until my Grandma was better and my Mum didn't need to be with her every day.
Aunt Muriel seemed like an old lady to me back then, but thinking about it, she was probably in her 30's somewhere, 10 years younger than I am now. So for all you beautiful, sexy, oh-so-fuckable larger women I say this. Though you may have no idea it's happening, don't hide all that good stuff under baggy clothes and heavy control garments. You are gorgeous, and somewhere around, maybe closer than you think, there's a little boy, or a middle aged man who remembers being a little boy, for whom you are the ultimate masturbation fantasy. And if I had the same chance today, I'd leap at it with both hands and both feet.
Thanks Muriel. The memory of your magnificent tits can still make me come forty years later.
il y a 10 ans
thanks for sharing!