Bosoms.
Breasts. Tits. Funbags. Nipples.

Whatever. I am completely indifferent to
them. They do nothing for me. I like looking at them on other women but mine
are of no consequence to me. Well that’s not true—Jim adores mine. He says they
are perfectly made to fit in his cupped palm. He sometimes comes up to me from
behind and slides his hands up to hold them, knead them, letting the nipples
slide between his fingers as he does. Teasing, pressing, coaxing.

Nothing.

They just aren’t sensitive at all. I
know it saddens Jim but they really just aren’t. I’ve heard of women who can
climax from nipple stimulation alone. My breasts are so insensitive that I
can’t even muster envy for that kind of experience—I wouldn’t know how to even
imagine what that would be like.

Jim has made it his mission to give me a
sexual response through my breasts—I really wish he wouldn’t. It isn’t
unpleasant having attention lavished on my bosom but there are far more
exciting and stimulating parts that could be attended to. Take the crook of my
arm… oh my god… nibble on the inside of my elbow and I will do anything you
want… anything. There is a path with a very distinct trail leading from there
to my clitoris. All the nerve endings are in perfect alignment on that
particular journey, oh yes.

Or my shoulders, or the vulnerable
fleshy bit of my arm just where is reaches my underarm—I’m squirming and wriggling
just to think of it.

But tonight, I know it; Jim has
something planned for me. He’s been looking at my tits all day and there’s
champagne in the fridge—some Krug left over from my most recent event. He’s
even chilled the flutes in the freezer.

“Strip.” He commands as he presses play
on the music remote. My favourite sex song plays, bassy and seductive. I sway
and peel away what little clothes I have on and drop them to the floor, leaving
my heels and panties. His gaze skims over my body and comes to rest, as I knew
it would, on my breasts. I pre-empt his request by taking them in hand and
squeezing the nipples to the hypnotic pulse of the beats.

He backs out of the room to the kitchen,
eyes still fixed on me, to get the champagne. The best I could find to woo
potential clients last night. I’m not sure if they were impressed by my
presentation or not, but no matter, gaining new clientele has almost become a
sport rather than proper business, lord knows I don’t need the money. Jim seems
to like it though, spending it anyway. He has a good eye and catching a glimpse
of myself in the gilt mirror opposite, I see evidence of his talents in the
underwear I’m wearing. Classy. Silk. Very damn expensive. Designer, apparently,
very exclusive though I’ve never heard of them. All this money doesn’t sit
right with me at all. I am patron of many charities and clubs yet still, I
can’t help the feeling that I’m cheating. It’s as if I don’t feel worthy of
such riches. That’s why I feel lucky to have Jim. Even though it’s my own
money, he lavishes me with all the luxury I deny myself. The pop of the cork
sends shivers of anticipation through me. He expertly holds the stems in one
hand and pours with the other. Foam spills over his knuckles and I lick my
lips. He keeps pouring until the glasses brim. He puts down the bottle and
hands me a drink.

“Down half a glass and no more.”

I do as he says, the cold bubbles chill
me with delight and it feels good to swallow a big mouthful over my throat
instead of the usual delicate sips.

“On all fours.” Taking my glass, he tips
his head and drinks the rest of bubbly then reaches the bottle to top it up
again.

No fair, I think while settling my knees
into the softest bit of rug.

He examines me for a few moments then
kneels at my side, looking at my swinging breasts as if assessing them. He
fills the two glasses a little more and looks back at me. He cups one of my
boobs and puts a glass beneath it. I hunch my back like an angry cat to get
away from the cold liquid.

“What are you doing?” I ask, a little
nervous.

“Just trust me.” He gently presses my
upper back in reassurance and my chest falls to the rim of the glass. He takes
my breast and guides the nipple into it. I want to giggle, it feels absurd but
he looks so serious with his intent that I think better of it. My boobs aren’t
very big so the nipple and areola fit nicely. It doesn’t quite reach the fizz
below and when I breathe or move at all, the glass threatens to tip and spill.
“Hold steady,” Jim says and dips in to the side of my breast just at where the
glass and flesh meet. I watch from through my arms as his mouth latches to my
skin and glass and he suckles the air from the space. The vacuum he creates elongates
my nipple until it dips into the champagne, just a little. A prickle of
excitement at the image sweeps over my back and down into my abdomen. But it’s
not from the sensation of it, just the sight of it. I can’t even feel the bubbles
on the tips of my nipples. I make an mmmm sound so Jim won’t be too disappointed
at my lack of response. The pressure feels nice though. And the cold is making
me shiver as he comes to the right to attend to the other side. He latches the
flute onto my other boob, being a little rougher this time, squeezing a little
harder and suckling a little more ferociously. Another mmmm escapes my throat
and this time, I’m astonished to find that it is a genuine one. There is a
swell of something in my chest. I’m not sure it’s coming from the nipples themselves
but there is definitely something occurring within my breasts. I hold still,
not wanting spill the champagne or even break the glass—an image of horror and
blood threatens to spoil the mood but Jim pulls my hair into a bunch at my nape
and lifts my face up to his.

“I’m fucking hard seeing you like that.
Seeing your pretty little tits all gobbled up and sucked. They’ve gone all pink
and puckered.”

I move my head to see them but he holds
me fast. He dips to my shoulder and nibbles just the way I like it. Electricity
shoots through me, this time, taking a detour to my nipples as he rocks me,
making the champagne swill around the glass and creep up my tits.

He lifts the bottle to my upturned lips
and pours into my mouth. I splutter and cough and he takes a swig himself.

“I bet you’re nice and wet for me now,
aren’t you?”

And yes, yes I am wet. I’m in that space
where I’m using all my strength to stop myself from crushing the glass and
causing injury while he could do anything to my exposed rump. His body heat
leaves as he goes to stare at that very spot taking the champagne with him. I
tense, guessing what will happen next. I’m right.

Champagne spatters onto my lower back
and dribbles onto the rug as he keeps pouring, moving down to my ass, running
in between my cheeks through the silk of my knickers. The liquid tickles at my
anus and down to my pussy—it’s so cold I almost jump up in fright but that palm
is there again, soothing and stilling at my back while my tits sway in the
glasses. The feeling in my chest is like nothing I’ve felt there before. The
bubbles are tickling and massaging my nipples and the suction is definitely
doing something for my arousal. My clit seems to be swelling every time the
champagne swooshes around. I concentrate hard on the connection desperately
wanting it to be true.

He has his cock out. I can tell it’s in
his hand, all weighty and solid as he stares at me from behind, I know it. I
want him to do something filthy like shove two fingers in and out while he
watches and rubs himself.

And he does, as if reading my mind he
roughly pulls my panties to the side and fingers me hard and fast while fisting
his cock. I want to watch, I want to see. I twist, looking for a mirror or
reflective surface and find one. Luckily, the light is just right on one of the
paintings and it reflects the scene—darkened from not quite being a mirror. And
what a sight. The glasses are tipping and moving and my ass is high but the
most erotic thing of all is seeing Jims sinews and muscles work in his arm as
he pumps his cock hard in time with the finger fucking he is administering. His
look is filthy, utterly absorbed in watching my greedy pussy gobble up his
digits. The crotch of my knickers is pulling and tugging at my pussy lips and
clit and it is heaven as the welling in my cunt rises. My arms are shaking from
holding up my weight and the swooshing of the now warming champagne is shooting
lightning through my tits. It is a fucking sexy sight.

“You like that, hmm?” Jim notices where
I’m looking and locks his eyes to mine in the reflection. “You like to see me
ravishing your wet cunt with my hands.” To emphasise it, he must be shoving
another finger inside as the pressure is intense. I want more. I could take
more, I’m sure. I’m so hot and wet and ready for fucking, I could take his cock
in there too I’m sure. “Yes, I bet you like to see your pretty little tits all
tight and sucked too. Do you?”

I break eye contact and look at them all
elongated and red.

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Good,” he says and pulls his fingers
out of my pussy and rips down my pants aiming his cock at my hole. He grabs my
hips to steady me and ploughs his cock right up inside, it is so hard and I cry
out as my arms almost give way. He holds fast and fucks me quick and
ferociously and my pussy feels raw with it. He reaches round with his right
hand and pulls at the glass there. The suction is intense and my tit feels an
almost bruising sensation but it is glorious and horny as he pulses it in time
with his thrusting.

My pussy is clutching and grabbing at
him and I’m in a different zone with all the sensations streaming through my
body, converging at my clit which is now soaring with need. I try to balance on
my left arm and reach through to it but it’s no good. Jim notices and puts my
hand to the glass instead, moving up and down, back and forth to show me what
to do. It is sublime and as his fingers snake their way to my hungry clit, I
become that point. That pinprick of light a million miles away where all the
senses collide. My tits, my ass my pussy, my clit. I am them all, I fly around
and back into myself as Jim spasms and bucks his climax into me and my clit is
buzzing as I come again and again, rolling in and out of myself as I do, shuddering
around my spent lover.

When we both go languid and soft, Jim
pulls out of me and crawls to my side. He carefully pushes a lubricated finger
into the side of the glass to release the vacuum. A tiny hiss escapes and my
breast throbs. He does the other and I kneel up, my tits red and puckered.

Jim leans in and caresses each in turn,
massaging them with fingers and tongue. And I feel it. I feel the swell and
tickle of arousal right in the tip of my nipples.

He’s done it. He’s awakened me.

When he’s finished, he lifts the warm
glasses of champagne and hands me one.

“To champagne,” he says and I raise my
glass, then with a wicked grin he adds, “and tits.”