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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 more apt.

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 relationship.

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 bounty.

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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 anyone else.

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 temporary insanity.

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 see them.

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 night.


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 total peace.

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 desire.

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 sac.

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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Published by KT Enterprises
Copyright 2004 Katy Terrega Ė All Rights Reserved
No Portion Of This Story May Be Reprinted Without The Authorís Permission

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