Longing

I’ve been sleeping naked again. 

It’s still so cold in the mornings, but I crave the feel of the warm electric blanket right against my skin. I sleepily caress my curves with soft, sliding hands as I imagine a tender lover doing the same. I’ve been having sex more often lately, but I still spend most nights alone. So my own hands are my most consistent lovers as the world passes through the the spring equinox and on toward warmer days. 

I haven’t been using the breast pump anymore. Through my readings and research, I found that inducing lactation can have an adverse effect on fertility. I can’t let even my desire to feel my breasts engorged and dripping with milk get in the way of my parenthood possibilities. My window of opportunity for healthy and viable pregnancy has only about a centimeter left to go before it is fully shut forever more. 

So I slip my fingers over my nipples under that electric blanket and imagine their sweet milk coming in naturally, through the miracle of life. It’s a dream I still keep safely tucked against my heart as I hold the pillow tightly and fall asleep. 

xo

Ru

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

“The Milkmaid” Part 2

The Milkmaid

Part II

Preparing the Queen

Shaking and horrified at being forced to leave her family home, Belle sniffled quietly as she settled into the grand carriage sent to bring her to the castle. Her plump infant son was tucked tightly to her bosom under her thin, ragged coat. Her small bag of belongings held only a change of dress and a tiny homemade corncob doll she’d had since her own toddler days. 

She looked like a child cradling a child as the simple peasant life she knew got further and further from view.

Miles away in her private chamber, Queen Rilla was being prepared for the milkmaid’s arrival. She stood naked in the large linen-lined washing tub as her two attendants bathed her with soft sponges from the sea. As her maids smoothed warm suds up and down her pale thighs, belly and ass, she caressed her own wet breasts while holding back tears.

Just the tiniest drips of milk escaped her majesty’s thick brown nipples. She put her milk-wet fingers to her mouth and quietly suckled her own sweet nectar from the tips. Would it ever be enough to feed her noble newborn? The son that she and her king had been trying to conceive for years and had finally blessed their lives and their kingdom was so hungry all the time. Her aching, misting breasts just could not, would not fulfill her darling babe’s needs and it crushed her to the core.

Her washing attendants loved their queen and knew how devastated the whole castle was from this sad predicament. They deeply longed to help her with her motherly desires and see the light return in her heart and eyes. And so, every morning during this cleansing ritual from the bath, they would share a secret unspoken intimacy that awakened all of their desires.

Dropping the sponges in the soapy basin, Rilla’s washing maids caressed her curves with their slick hands and each — delicately, soothingly, lovingly — took one of their queen’s erect nipples into their doting, suckling mouths. Queen Rilla, with her arms supported by their shoulders, would close her eyes and breathe deep with uncontrollable ecstasy as her teats were sucked and massaged by these warm soft lips. Their washing hands cupping Rilla’s breasts to stimulate her milk ducts, her attendants drank their queen’s few drips of milk hoping to signal her body to make more and more.

Rilla moaned and felt wet fingers opening the soft petals of her labia as darting tongues flicked and licked her rubbery dark peaks. Troubled thoughts of the new milkmaid feeding her son instead of she all slipped away as her breasts and swollen pussy lips were given such loving hungry attention and care. Rilla cupped her own breasts to squeeze the lightest spray of milk onto her maidens’ tongues and gasped loudly as they playfully bit her nipples before sucking them fiercely back into their mouths again.

Queen Rilla held fast to her ladies around their petite waists as she began to crest this heavenly wave of sensuous devotion. Panting and crying out, lost in pleasure as her nipples did more heartily leak and spray, she didn’t hear the knock on the heavy wooden door.

A young dark-haired page named Bale stood in shocked silence for a few beats as he took in the private riveting scene at the tub. Fearing for his life from having witnessed his queen’s rapturous nakedness, while covering the instant tent in his trousers to not give his own arousal away, he stepped back into the shadows of the doorway and said “My Queen, the milkmaid has arrived.”

 

….stay tuned for Part III coming soon! 

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

Did You Miss Me?

Hello, my dear blog readers!

My apologies that I have been so quiet over the past month. I have been very sick off and on and dealing with the bitter cold and continuous onslaught of snow hasn’t helped!

I am feeling much better now and have finally returned to tantalize and tease with my musings and stories worthy of breast worshipers everywhere.

Oh, how lovely and healing it would have been to be snuggled and suckled during these many frozen days of sickness. I fully believe suckling and being suckled is an incredibly healing experience and elixir for both a woman and her nursing partner.

I have missed you. I’ll be writing the second installment of my Milkmaid story today, so please watch for that post by tomorrow, too!

Love and Breast Wishes ;)

Ru

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

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“The Milkmaid” Part 1

The story “start” below was originally posted to my first Rumina’s Nectar blog several years ago, before that blog was deleted by the blog host. Luckily, this is one of the very few writings from that first blog that I had thought to save.

I’m re-posting it for those of you who never saw it or don’t remember it, and will finally continue and finish this story in segments for you. 

Enjoy and thank you for reading!

xx

Ru

PS….I’m sitting here giggling as I remember some of the comical comments that followed the original post of this story section, due to the last line spoken by the father to his daughter about her unmarried state and milky curves. ;) 

 

The Milkmaid

Part 1 

A King’s Discovery

 

Belle was just 18 years old when she became milkmaid to the Queen.

The birth of her bastard child by an unknown sailor found her body plump and ripe, with pale skin aglow. Her breasts were so full and heavy that her wiggling, beautiful dark-eyed son couldn’t keep up with all the milk that was his and his alone to drink.

It was a rainy Sunday when the King, disguised in a dark hooded cloak and plain clothes, was getting some much needed air away from the dusty rooms and halls of his castle. And away from the crying sounds of his own newborn son, who was fussy and sickly and refusing his mother’s breasts.  

As the King strolled alone in the rain, he came upon a cottage window where voluptuous young Belle was nursing her swaddled infant inside, by the light of a candle. The King gasped and stepped back in the shadows. He had never seen such a succulent woman-child with nipples so thick and dripping with sweet nectar. The King stood in the rain watching as she switched the child from breast to breast, cooing at him and closing her eyes in what looked like pure womanly pleasure when her nuzzling babe sucked her nipple full into his tiny mouth.

When Belle had finished feeding her now sleeping child and lovingly tucked him into the cradle at her feet, she heard a gentle tapping on her family’s front door.

Her father answered the door in the room opposite where Belle was sitting. She couldn’t see who was there, but she heard her father’s surprise and recognition of the stranger’s identity. She quickly tucked her breasts back into the bodice of her dress; which since her son’s birth was now much too small to cover her decently.

After a short time, her father closed the door and stood for a few moments in shocked silence. Belle’s mother and younger sister looked up from their sewing as he entered the sitting room with wide, startled eyes.

“Belle, pack your things. Just when I thought you’d be the scandalous death of this family, your bastard babe has turned to gold. You’ve been summoned to the castle, daughter. We will be compensated well for feeding the hungry prince and his siblings from this day forward. Your overflowing whore-child titties now belong to the King.”

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Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

Kissing Gavin

His warm mouth is both gentle and passionate. He doesn’t drown me with his tongue, but sensuously dips and dances it between my lips with a teasing tenderness. 

With one hand caressing my face, his other fingers slide inside the lace pressed against my breast. My soft nipple pulses and tightens when he finds it. His touch on my sensitive peak ignites me as he massages and cuddles, petting my nipple again and again until my panties are soaked with desire.

Gavin’s lips move from my mouth to my breast. My hands move from his downy chest to the stiff tent in his jeans. I am dizzy with lust as we move from sofa to bed, quickly tugging off clothing as we go. 

Kissing is a close cousin (sibling?) of breast suckling. A wet and tender mouth causing a woman’s body to stir, awaken and crave. 

 

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

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Savoring Your REAL Woman’s Curves

Because of this blog and its adult breastfeeding theme – as well as my generally curvy build – I sometimes hear from people who seem to assume that I have this perfect, knockout set of unbeatable breasts worthy of the pages of Playboy. Oh, how that makes me giggle! 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for bursting your bubble and dispelling the myth, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. And it’s part of my mission with this blog to spread the word that (perceived) imperfections and aging and unique body variations are beautiful, beautiful things. 

I’m just a very REAL woman who doesn’t look like a model and has nowhere near a perfect set of breasts. In fact, I’m almost 100% certain that Playboy execs would turn these very real, heavy, asymmetrical, nipples-pointing south, mid-40′s breasts of mine down. I love that I have reached a time in my life when I could care less about that. I love that when I offer my enticingly-sensitive nipples to a sweet lover for caressing and suckling, he is also receiving the gift of my own love for myself — flaws and all.

Even though my breasts aren’t that “perfect” set of firm perky orbs of some men’s dreams, my Real Woman breasts are still a source of incredible sensual pleasure and connection and pride. 

If you are a woman reading this, please EMBRACE your naturally unique shape, size and sensitivity! Never, never, never let anyone make you feel less beautiful and desirable than you truly are. 

If you are a breast-loving man reading this, I encourage you to shake off what society has taught you to believe are the “perfect” breasts and open your sensuous mind and body to the experience of respectfully savoring the Real Women the Universe has lovingly put in your path.

See her as the true goddess that she is, exactly as she is. Suckle her like she is the most beautiful woman in the world, because gentlemen (and suckling ladies)…every single woman out there IS the most beautiful woman in the world, especially when she is in your arms and her stunning unique breasts are lovingly offered to you. 

xoxo

Real Woman Ru

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

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Sensual Holiday Solitude

In that not-quite-through-the-holidays space between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, I’m trying to reconnect with my body, mind and spirit with sweet, sensual care. More pampering and contemplative bath time. New bottles of essential oils for soft, winter skin and loving self massage. Organic teas and guided meditations. I’m trying to refresh after a crazy couple of pre-holiday months, while also setting a new standard for self-care routine in my life that I hope will take root and stay.

I’ve been turning down invitations for dates and just communing with me. Quietly owning my gifts and flaws and feeling grateful for the time and energy to keep making life more beautiful.

Happy Holidays!

xoxo

Ru

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

Playmates & Candidates

After several days of scattered snowstorms, my world is a glittery fluffy landscape. It’s bitterly cold this morning as I type to you, but I’m snuggled up in my favorite chair by the lit-and-sparkling Christmas tree while dreaming of passionate, pleasurable things.

There are suddenly a handful of lovers from the past, and possible lovers for the near future, swirling around me in a flirtatious dance that is making me giddy with yearning for more. To what I owe this sudden and long-wanted attention, I have no idea, but I’m enjoying every minute of it.

There’s Daniel (a pseudonym – these men are real, but I’ve changed their names) – a successful, artistic older man who suckled me in his car under the lamplight on our first date, who is wooing me again with an invitation to be savored in the warm sheets of a beautiful nearby B&B. With Daniel, there is always champagne and chocolates and sometimes a surprise gift of lacy lingerie.

There’s Gavin, my age, who gives his whole self to everything he does; including his two exhausting make-ends-meet jobs and making love to me. The one time we’ve been together intimately, I was overcome with emotion when he held my hands tightly the entire time he was inside me. He’s not a suckling lover, to my dismay, but he is by far my favorite kisser on this list. And his hands do always find their way inside my racy bra when his mouth is pressed to mine.

Then there are the new boys we’ll call The Breeders. I haven’t yet met either Joaquin or Richard, but they are men drawn to me by my desire to conceive and their desire to be the reason that I might.

Joaquin is Jamaican and built like you’d expect a virile Jamaican to be. He’s a successful man in the arts, like Daniel. He’s a breast lover, no doubt, though there have been no discussions of suckling yet. Joaquin wants to meet for a glass of wine to see if we have chemistry and compatibility for baby making. My desire to be a mother is stronger than ever and it draws this man to me – and me to him – like a moth to a flame.

Richard is a tall, handsome Wall Street executive with children of his own who he deeply adores and sees his offer of sperm donation as a philanthropic endeavor. Our talking together is fun but professional. He would be agreeable to natural insemination, if that is my preference, but leaves that up to me. Yet, Richard, in all his reserved and respectful sweetness when discussing the possibility of this conception coupling is starting to show his sensual side little by little. He’s starting to slip cautiously into what I can tell is a deeply-rooted desire for sharing his seed the way nature intended. Yes, he sincerely wants to donate to help an older single woman like me have a family, but he clearly also wants to feel his seed pleasing and penetrating my warm cervix walls. He’s just not allowing himself to say it like that yet. Hearing him slowing giving in to his true desires is keeping me riveted.

These men are all very enticing in their own special ways, whether I have yet experienced their sensual, sexual sides or not.

But here is the downside of these dashing partners, no matter the reason we may play.

None of them intend to stay.

Alas, that has been a typical limitation of the men I meet. When I find a man who shares my desires, he does not also want to share his life, his heart and his home with me.

Daniel travels 5 days out of 7 and is strongly opposed to having (or making) more children. He is happy with the occasional sexy romps that allow him his freedom after finally leaving a difficult marriage.

Gavin is unbelievably loving and attentive in bed, but when away from my physical presence he is kind but non-committal and often aloof. He finds himself intoxicated by lust and longing when next to my body, but he has made it clear he doesn’t want to date or be exclusive.

My connections with Joaquin and Richard are based solely on the possibility of helping me be a single mother and Richard….well, Richard is happily married and intends to stay that way. He claims that his wife is definitely OK with him helping me conceive, as they also helped a friend of hers do the same nearly 10 years ago…but a woman can never quite know if that is really true when it’s only the husband she is talking to.

Ah, poor Ru, right? Nah, it’s OK. These lovely playmates and candidates are all very kind to me and help bring my cravings to life. I adore them for that, I really do.

If there is a Prince Charming for me out there somewhere, perhaps he will find me eventually. Though I stopped waiting for him years ago.

Right or wrong, a life without love AND desire is no life for me. So I enjoy my share of the latter, with the loving men who keep slipping away.

xx,

Ru

Beauty & The Beast — And Her Breasts, Of Course

I have to admit that I adore fairy tales where the mystical pull and appeal of a woman’s sensual charms and curvaceous figure (and loving heart) can tantalize and tame even the most beastly of male characters. And I, being the nipple-centric goddess that I am, imagine these leading storybook ladies taking those heroes of theirs immediately to their bared breasts as soon as the reader says “The End.” 

Because, oh no no, it’s not the end when the guy “gets” the girl. It is merely the magnificent beginning, when passion can truly start. When bodices are unlaced. When breasts are unwrapped and ravished and revered in the exciting romantic crush of a hero’s hungry embrace. 

One of my favorite fairy tales is Beauty and The Beast. Before the curse can be broken and the Beast returned to his handsome human form, I imagine that sumptuous breast suckling sections of this story have been edited out of the original tale. Where the Beast, in his anger at his fate, orders Belle to disrobe before him and show him her jewels. He pants and paws at the cold stone floor as her dark and delicate puffy nipples are revealed, almost glowing in the moonlight through the window of the tower where he keeps her locked away. 

Her feelings already growing rapidly for her abominable captor, Belle looks her Beast in the eyes and gently traces her fingers in small circles around her naked breasts. She fondles her now erect nipples with the deepest desire to share her body with him and only him. She whispers “I wish I could feed you right now.” The Beast would then howl like a wolf, agonizing from intense lust and unrequited love. 

I sometimes think of nursing a lover as something almost other-worldly and most certainly magical. If there are feminine forces capable of changing a grumbling beastly brute into a strong, attentive and virile man, the breast is one of the best.

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.

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