Breast Milk Reverie

The scent of myrrh hung heavy in the air, a cloying sweetness that promised untold delights. I lay upon my back, my body arched, anticipating the arrival of my beloved. It wasn't just lust that drove me; it was a deep, primal yearning, a hunger that resonated within my very soul. I felt the tremors in my breasts, a gentle reminder of the pleasure to come. My mind drifted back to the verses of the Song of Solomon, each line a whispered promise of ecstasy. “A bundle of myrrh is my wellbeloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts.” The thought alone sent shivers down my spine.

Then, he appeared, a magnificent figure bathed in the warm glow of the room. His presence filled the space, instantly igniting a fire within me. He knelt before me, his gaze locking onto mine, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The anticipation grew with every passing moment, each beat of my heart echoing the rhythm of my rising desire. His left hand rested beneath my head, a comforting weight that grounded me, while his right hand encircled my waist, pulling me closer, closer, until there was no space between us. My body responded instinctively, my hips swaying in anticipation, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

As he rose, his right hand sought the tender flesh between my legs. It was an invitation, a silent command that I couldn't resist. My lips parted, my engorged lips responding to his fondling and kissing with groans and moans that shook my entire being. He caressed my backside down to my rear, his touch firm and deliberate, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. His kisses moved south, to the land of my lilies, and as he discovered my scent, a primal scream tore from my throat. My mound of sweet pleasures pulsed with anticipation, ready to receive his seed. I was awash in my own juices, a torrent of pleasure that flowed over him, driving him wild with desire. He wanted me, desperately, hungrily, as if he hadn't tasted another soul in his life. It wasn't just physical satisfaction he craved; it was a merging of souls, a complete and utter surrender to the intoxicating power of love.

He licked my sweet spot, a spot of heightened sensitivity that sent a wave of heat radiating through my core. My body responded with a series of escalating vibrations, each tremor intensifying my pleasure. I yearned for him to continue, to push me further into the depths of ecstasy. I imagined descending into his inner chamber, a sanctuary dedicated solely to our love. It was a place of intimacy, a space where we could lose ourselves completely in each other's arms. He agreed, and with a powerful surge of energy, he moved to enter my doorway, the entrance to this sacred space.

As he thrust his cedar deep into my opening, a gasp escaped my lips. It was an act of pure, unadulterated passion, a release of pent-up desire that left me breathless. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that consumed my entire being. He shook with delight, his muscles tensing and releasing in waves of ecstasy. In and out, back and forth, he worked tirelessly, pouring his energy into me until my body throbbed with each movement. Then, with a final, triumphant release, he unleashed his seed into my garden of myrrh and loving spices, a torrent of life force that filled me with joy.

“Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck. How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! How much better is thy love than wine, and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!” I cried out, my voice raw with pleasure. The thought of him, so close, so passionate, sent shivers down my spine. I watched as he rose to his full height, his manhood standing tall and proud, like a mountain, like a rock. The sight of it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

His form was a testament to his power, a symbol of the raw, primal energy that resided within him. I watched as he thrust his cedar into my doorway, until it could no longer be seen. It was an act of dominance, a declaration of ownership that left me trembling with excitement. Then, he shook with pleasure, his body convulsing with the sheer intensity of the experience. It was a moment of pure, uninhibited bliss, a release of all my pent-up desires.

“A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.” As he finished his task, I felt a profound sense of completion, a feeling of oneness with my beloved. I rose up to open to him, my hands dripping with myrrh, and my fingers tingling with the lingering scent of his arousal. He entered my secret chamber, no longer a secret from him. It was a space of intimacy, a place where we could lose ourselves completely in each other's arms. His fingers found their way to my mouth, and I sucked on them, savoring the taste of his sexual love. He loved me, as I had never been loved before, and in that moment, I knew that I had found my soulmate. His touch ignited a fire within me, a desire that burned brighter and brighter with each passing second. As he pumped me full of himself, moaning in the glory of it all, I felt myself melting into his embrace, surrendering to the intoxicating power of our connection. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a testament to the enduring beauty of love. My beloved, my friend, my spiritual companion. He was wonderful, and he was mine.

He held me close, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and as we lay intertwined, I realized that we were more than just lovers; we were one soul, one being, united by an unbreakable bond. I loved your love so much, my doe, that I dive into its depths once again. It was a feeling of pure bliss, a sensation that transcended words. I could not stay away. I lick and suck until I sense you tremble—my desire rising to meet your desire for me. I feast upon your garden until once again, you vibrate with my love, echoing throughout your body. I love everything about you, your juices, your scent, your special way of receiving as well as giving your feast to me. You arch your back. Your words and volume increase while your breath grows shallow and wispy. You scream as your body convulses. You relax into bliss, you relax into my loving embrace.

“I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dripped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.” His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. As I take him into my mouth; he feasts upon the glory of my garden. Two people, intertwined as one. My friend, my lover, my spiritual companion. He is wonderful, and he is mine.

We kiss in the afterglow of our extended loving, knowing there will be many more opportunities in the future to bring such pleasure to each other. And we most certainly will discover, in years to come, joyous bliss. To be enraptured by this love is to break or be broken by its truth. To be caught up in love, once it passes these doors, is to be one flesh, one in spirit, and one in truth. Thereby we sing this song of Solomon. This song of songs. This song of love between spouses.

Did you like this story? Breast Milk Reverie look, but like these, here Mom sex stories.