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By Katy Terrega
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In the end, it was always Maryís tits that I adored, of course.
Thick and plump and so inviting, her succulent breasts were what started me down this slippery slope, they were the true origins of my fantasy.
Although, perhaps fantasy is not the right word, perhaps obsession might be
Odd, for me to be enamored of Maryís breasts, having never been much
of a tit man. Not much of an anything man, really, although Iíll confess to a
bit of a fondness for ripe, round butts.
Odder still when you consider that Iíve known Mary for years, always
as a friend, although Iím not entirely sure why we left it at that . And in
all those years - all those late night conversations at the diner, all that
commiserating over love and loss - not once did I ever notice anything but
the sweetness of her nature, the easiness of her smile, the sheer generosity
of her laugh.
Well, that and her extraordinary beauty, of course. Few who frequent
the diner could miss her engaging looks, after all. Curly reddish brown
hair cascades past her shoulders, framing a face that manages to look both
impish and all-knowing at the same time. Personally I had always been
drawn to her eyes - long lashed and large, they sparkled green every time
she smiled Ė it was what had endeared her to me early on.
Endless cups of coffee had, over the years, endeared the diner to me as
well. A place whoís era has long passed, itís remarkably old fashioned,
with revolving stools set in front of the cracked counter and faded. The
mugs are chipped, the coffee thick, and the half and half, poured from
little metal pitchers, warm and sinfully creamy.
Itís the kind of place that can become a home away from home; here is
where you eat good, plain food, drink scalding hot coffee and reflect on
your life. Which is how I found myself that fateful evening, slumped and
brooding over the state of the universe and the recent demise of my
Quite without warning, as I watched Mary pass me, coffeepot in hand,
I had the thought that was to change my life.
Why, Mary has, quite simply, the most beautiful breasts of any woman
Iíve ever known.
It wasnít the thought itself that was most surprising - after all, surely a
man can notice such a thing. No, it was that Iíd never noticed it before. For
it was true, in my suddenly enlightened state, I saw that Maryís tits were
quite obviously a work of supreme beauty.
Encased as they were in her pink waitressís uniform, I was amazed to see how gloriously they swelled under the flimsy fabric. Leading the way as
Mary went about her work, they sat firm and proud atop her narrow waist,
held unnaturally still by the constraints of bra and too-tight - but so
appealing - bodice
As if that werenít enough, I became suddenly aware of the beautiful
expanse of flesh that was Maryís cleavage. A great crevasse - created by
the twin globes that bulged erotically from the uniform and pressed
deliciously together - seemed to pulse with every breath she took. One
small pink button was all that held the massive creatures at bay, another
having already succumbed and popped open, unable to contain such
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The damp flesh revealed by this tragic occurrence was tinted pink
from her uniform, giving her bosom a rosy glow that was highlighted by
the tiny gold necklace that she wore. A tiny slip of gold, it was, that
dangled precariously within the depths of her cleavage, threatening to
plunge to itís ecstatic death with every step she took.
A death, I realized suddenly, that I would of course be only too willing
to endure, given half a chance.
For the truth was quite clear to me now. I wanted Mary. I needed Mary. Without knowing it, I had quite likely always needed Mary. And, were I allowed access to Mary and her glorious breasts, I would never need
A miraculous discovery, I thought, amazed that this simple truth had
managed to escape me for so many years. A truth that was, unfortunately,
too much for my befuddled brain to grasp at that point. With something
akin to cold panic, I realized that I was unable to declare my intentions,
preferring instead to skulk away to nurse my obsession in silence.
And how did I manage to extricate myself from such a predicament?
What with Maryís smiling but rather confused face and my own somewhat
glazed and stunned expression? Along with, of course, a sudden and quite
distinctive bulge in my pants? I honestly donít know. I must plead
All I do know is that even though I removed myself from her
overwhelming presence, I was unfortunately not able to extricate myself
from the dreams that began that night. The Mary Dreams, I would come to
Part torture, part ecstasy, the Mary Dreams became a never ending saga of carnal pleasure that took place in my tortured mind every sleeping
moment. Mary-Land, I came to call it, an incredibly full and voluptuous
world of sweaty flesh and deep ravines and treacherous curves. A world of
sensual but completely unrelieved pleasure beyond belief, one that, after the
first time, I perversely looked forward to returning to night after painful
Maryís fully nude body, a thing of radiant slow-motion beauty, appears
from the pink mist. I wait, breath held, as she approaches, a serene smile on
her face. She is astoundingly bigger than life, bigger by far than me and her
body is full and lush as she bounces dreamily toward me. Her gait slow and
fluid, as though the dream world is devoid of gravity or atmosphere, she
walks as though on the moon.
Her skin is slightly flushed, suffused with soft light and warm colors.
Her magnificent chest is unhindered by the usual daily constraints; free and
unfettered, her breasts hang heavy, swaying slightly with every slow-motion
step she takes. I see that her nipples, large and sensuously thick, are pointing
the way, as she moves closer to me. My eyes are drawn toward the deep and
beautiful cleft between her breasts where her tiny necklace still hangs,
dangling delicately between her mounds.
My breathing is ragged as she continues her slow and deliberate way
toward me. Overwhelmed by the thickness that hangs in the air, excitement
pounds uncomfortably in my chest. Her presence, as she finally stands
before me, inches from my flushed face, is all consuming. The very air that
I breath seems heavy with her essence, the vision in front of me is almost
more than I can bear. Stunned, unable to move, I can only stare in wonder.
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Slowly, gratefully, my face is somehow drawn into the larger-than-life
than swell of Maryís luscious bosom. Down I go into the thick, soft comfort
of Maryís dream-tits. And a warm and inviting place it is, too, moist and
soft, smelling faintly of sweat and perfume and coffee. Is it my imagination
or can I also smell sex? Maryís sex. My sex. Very, very raw sex.
Her ripe, soft melons now completely envelop my face, the pulsing flesh
covering my eyes, my mouth, folding around to encompass my hair, my ears. I feel myself drowning in her embrace, being swallowed by her voluminous flesh. Warm and soft and insistent, her breasts are devouring m. Even as I feel
control slipping from my tenuous grasp, still I revel in the silky, yet demanding softness of her breasts. .
I open my mouth as if to gasp in air but instead I breathe in Maryís very essence, it is she who feeds me now, she who grants me life. My mouth
opens wider now, seeking more of her - more, damn it! Quite suddenly I can
feel her glorious breasts on my tongue, my teeth, my lips. Quite suddenly I
am tasting her for the very first time, and I am wallowing in her flavor.
I begin to suck greedily on her massive breasts, desperate to consume
every inch of her. I lick the soft flesh of her tits, tasting more sweat, more
sex. I feel an enormous nipple, the size of my thumb, slip seductively across
my face and I grasp hold of it, pulling it deep within my mouth. It slides
deliciously around my wet and probing tongue, which I insert deep into the
rough dimple at the end. Licking wildly now at her dinner-plate size areola,
I try to take as much of Mary into my mouth as possible.
And then, as often happens in the dream world, the next sensation comes without warning, with out rhyme nor reason.
Her breasts are now all I know. They have grown even larger, as big as
my puny body, perhaps, and her now mammoth tits covers every inch of
me. I am warmed by her abundant skin and my painfully swollen dick is
straining against the fleshy expanse of her boobs. I struggle to bury myself
even deeper into her all-consuming embrace as she strokes every bit of me
with her soft and pliable melons. Her scent is very thick in the air now and I
feel completely overpowered by the sheer size and massiveness of Maryís
gorgeous tits. Overwhelmed, overpowered, overjoyed.
For itís here, with the simple clarity of the dream world, that the truth
comes to me. It is the star that lights my way, the nectar that will sustain me.
It is the only truth that Iíll ever need.
Quite simply, itís that only in Maryís bountiful tits will I ever find
perfect happiness. Only in the embrace of Maryís full flesh will I ever find
Itís at that moment, as I lay wrapped in Maryís succulent breasts,
experiencing glorious happiness, that my dream world comes to an abrupt
end. Here is where I find myself suddenly back in my dark bedroom Ė
alone, my cock throbbing, my balls aching. Wishing desperately for Mary
and her beautiful tits, having to make do with only the dim memory of her
that still hangs, almost palpably, in the air.
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Itís a painful thing, The Mary Dream. Well, sort of. Painfully
pleasurable. Pleasurably painful. Always agonizingly unattainable.
After the first of the Mary Dreams I begin to avoid the diner, unsure how to hide my growing obsession, my growing desperation. Surely Mary, she of the easy laugh and the piercing eyes will see through to my most base
nature, see that I crave her in a way that is beginning to seem depraved. Far
better that I suffer alone, keep my hollow eyes and my haggard demeanor to
myself as my nights become more sleepless, more tortured.
I begin to walk the streets, late at night, trying to avoid sleep, avoid
falling into the deep pit that is Mary-Land. Surely I can overcome my pitiful
needs, my sick desires. But it is hopeless, the pull of the dream becomes
stronger than my feeble willpower. I know that I need to make my weary
way back to her, confess my obsession. Only then will I be free.
Only then, if I am granted Maryís absolution, will I be able to regain my
dream-less life, my sanity.
Itís near closing as I enter the familiar diner and the dissimilar smells of
French fries and pine cleaner assaults my senses. Busy with her last
customer, Mary doesnít see me as I slide myself onto my usual stool. She
looks exactly, beautifully, the same. Radiant, full, pink with the light and
her uniform, the small gold pendant still dangling in her large Ė but not
dream size Ė bosom.
Concern crosses her face as she sees the last customer to the door,
locking it behind him. Concern that only increases as she comes nearer, her
green eyes taking in the stubble on my cheeks, the gauntness of my face. I
am helpless before her and without a thought for the consequences I begin
my confession. She listens intently to the tawdry details - my awakening,
my obsession, my surreal dream-life and her part in it. I canít bear to look in
her eyes until all of my secrets have been revealed, all of my sins confessed.
Expecting what? Derision, perhaps? Disdain?
Her expression holds none of those feelings and I am confused. What is
she thinking as she stares so intently into my face? Her peculiar lack of
expression has left me trembling before her, disoriented and cursing myself
for intruding on her in this way. I want nothing more than to leave this
diner, leave Mary, slink out of her life and back into the depravity that is my
I am stopped in this endeavor by the sudden and blissful presence of
Maryís mouth on mine, her lips soft and full. I feel my breath quicken in
glorious relief that turns almost instantly to desire as
Maryís lips part, opening to me. My tongue tentatively explores the outer corner of her lips, her teeth, her tongue, becoming more bold with each
passing second. I reach gently for Maryís face, still breathless at my
incredible fortune. I stroke my fingers down her soft cheeks and finally to
the long expanse of her pink-tinged neck.
My hands, still trembling, slip delicately over her collar-bones, across the starched collar of her uniform, further down now to the thick swell of her
bosom. I caress the thin pink material that so tightly encases them, exploring
their fullness, their incredible weight. As my fingers pass over the buttons of
her uniform, one of them pops suddenly free and I gratefully slide my hand
underneath the flimsy material, onto the more substantial fabric of her bra.
I undo another button and then yet another, until I can (finally!) cup her
glorious bra-encased tits in my hands. Cradled as they are in the thick, white
fabric, her breasts swell, upward and outward, heavy and well-contained in
my palms. I revel in their firm feel before sliding her uniform off of one
shoulder then the other. Kissing the exposed skin, I slip the strap of her bra
down and off of her arm.
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Suddenly they are free and in my hands, the substantial weight of her
enormous breasts thrilling me with their touch. Pale brown areola surround
fat nipples and I lift one to my mouth and begin, gratefully, to suck on
Maryís engorged nub, drawing a sigh from her throat. With the other hand I
knead Maryís other breast, feeling itís fleshy fullness under my fingers. I
pull on both of her nipples now, rolling them over, one in my mouth, one
between my fingers, until we both groan.
Mary lifts her globes up now with her hands, forcing her nipples together so that I can suck on them both at the same time. Drawing them deeply into my mouth, I suck hard while I fondle the flesh of her boobs, warm now to my touch. Reminded now of my dream world, I bury my face deep within the cleft of her breasts and lick the sweat flavored salt from between them.
Maryís head is thrown back now and I kiss her throat, her shoulders,
down again into her voluminous tits. Mary kneads her doughy mounds as I
press forward, lapping up her essence, reveling in the soft flesh that
envelops my face. And then suddenly itís only my hands on her breasts,
pressing them against my tongue. And itís Maryís hands at my belt,
fumbling to free my rigid member.
The feel of her fingers on my cock makes me gasp and I suck harder at
her rapidly growing nipples. Her hands are cool and smooth as they expertly
stroke my burning rod. My balls respond to her touch, growing thick and
hard in her relentless grasp. Her hands warmer now, she begins to stroke
me, her small fist strong and firm against my rod. I find myself groaning
into her breasts, losing myself in her touch, her flesh, her sex.
But suddenly Mary has withdrawn her bounteous flesh from my face and I am groaning from the loss. But then I see that Mary has dropped to her
knees and itís my hard cock that is now enveloped by Maryís soft flesh. The
sensitive skin of my shaft is being caressed by the folds of her thick breasts
and itís better, by far, than anything Iíve dreamt. My cock has been
swallowed up by her substantial flesh, itís being massaged and kneaded and
stroked all at once, the pleasure is nearly unbearable. I find myself groaning
as she squeezes her mountainous boobs together, pressing even more firmly
against the sensitive flesh of my dick.
She raises her globes higher and my cock-head disappears into the fat
mounds of her breasts. I feel her thick flesh surround the sensitive skin
around my peehole before she lowers her breasts again and my engorged
head pokes back through the fleshy mounds. Now I begin to thrust, oh-so-
slowly, as Mary matches my movements, her hands expertly positioning my
dick in her soft folds. I slide easily through the warm embrace of her tit-
flesh, my cock-head more swollen each time it makes itís appearance
through her pale flesh.
Mary smiles as my swollen member slides deliciously through her
mounds, and I see that her face is flushed pink again, with passion this time.
She massages her great bosom even more firmly around my now rapidly
moving cock and lowers her mouth to the hide-and-seek tip. With my next
upstroke I feel the shock of her wet tongue on my swollen head and I groan
in pleasure. Now her mouth is open and with each stroke my greedy dick
enters her warm and wet cavern. My shaft slides effortlessly through her tit-
flesh, only to met with her glorious lips, her tongue lapping at the tip.
As though Maryís glorious tits and her wet mouth werenít enough, I feel
her fingers now, gently, on my swollen balls. Delicately she manipulates
them in her palm, cupping them while her fingers play around the sensitive
It occurs to me, dimly, that I must be in heaven. I realize that at this very
moment, I am experiencing a moment of complete happiness, that there has
never been and will never be a more perfect moment in time. And itís as I
come to this glorious conclusion Ė that only in Maryís tits lies total
happiness, total peace - that I feel the first stirrings in my engorged balls.
Buried deep in Maryís abundant titty-flesh I feel the sensations begin in
my groin. Feverishly I increase my pace, stroking even faster now through
her thick mounds. Her tongue laps at my slithering head more desperately
now as it slides quickly through her now slippery flesh. My balls begin to
contract as her fingers work their magic and I feel the first stirrings of cum
from below, my cock swelling in pleasure. Almost in slow motion I feel the
jiz begin itís long, delicious journey up my engorged penis, towards itís
final, ultimate destination, on Maryís creamy mounds.
As in my dream world, time seems to slow down and it feels as though
my cum spends an eternity shooting out of my cock and spewing itself onto
Maryís heaving breasts. I think I cry out her name as my vision fades and all
sounds recede. All I can feel now is the explosion of my cock, the sweet
tension that builds and then erupts into a torrent of sensation. Until the last
of my cream spurts out onto her fleshy mounds and I gaze into Maryís very
aroused, very green eyes.
The end? Not hardly. Lest you think this is all about my satisfaction, lest
you think me selfish in my obsession, let me assure you that I did, indeed
reciprocate. After experiencing the bounty of Maryís breasts, after being
given the glorious gift of fucking her incredible mounds, I did not simply
take my pleasure and run. No, I spent the rest of evening Ė and many
glorious evenings since - reveling in Maryís other rich pleasures. My tongue
has been deep in the silken folds of her snatch, my fingers have been busy
on her sensitive cum-soaked nipples, my cock has been buried deep in the
warmest recesses of her snatch.
Mary-Land has proven to be not only the perfect place to visit, but also
the most delightful of places to live.
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