Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, one of my yoga instructors, let's call her Harmony, had parked right next to me in the parking lot. Harmony was tiny, especially compared to me. She couldn't have been taller than five feet (152 cm) nor heavier than 100 pounds (45 kg), had pale skin, dark brown eyes, and wore her long dark brown hair in a single braid for class. At around 30, she was 5-10 years older than me. She was absolutely striking in an indescribable way. It was not just her buoyant energy. It was that she looked into you and saw your soul. She didn't understand anything about most of what I did as a young techno-nerd, but from the moment she met me, I felt like she always knew me essentially better than I knew myself.
As I was getting into my car and she was getting into her car, she smiled sweetly at me and said, "I'll see you next time."
I, greatly encouraged, said, "I wish I didn't have to wait so long." I meant it as flirting, but it was plausibly deniable flirting, my only kind of flirting at the time, because I was a coward with women, and never wanted to risk offending them. I might be referring to the fact that she only taught a few classes a week at the time, and that she was such a good instructor, blah, blah, blah. I was looking right at her over the roof of my car and smiling, leaning over towards her on the roof of my car.
"You know what?" she said, "Come here, I want to show you something." I was hopeful and optimistic at this, because I am always hopeful and optimistic about a woman's invitation, except tempering that with that 95% of the time they wanted me to fix some techno-thing of theirs, a car thing, or a computer thing. I had that look.
As I walked around my car to her, she said, "Are you in a hurry?"
"No," I said, because at that point I was struck dumb by the sight of all of her head to toe as I rounded the car. She was not a spandex girl, but a cotton girl, with a t-shirt and shorts outside the studio, and Birkenstocks. It was my impression that she wore something different to teach class.
"Get in," she said, "I'll drive you."
Without a question, I squeezed into the passenger seat of her car. It was a tiny ancient Citroen, and I am 6'4" (193 cm) and a proportionate 250 pounds (114 kg), so I squeeze into everything, but this one especially so. Luckily I am flexible, so I was able to manage it with no permanent damage either to myself or to the vehicle. She whisked me away.
I didn't even ask where we were going. I just felt complete delight sitting next to her, watching her shift her wheezing ancient vehicle and listening to the hamsters raging in her engine compartment as the Citroen struggled up a hill. I felt like I'd been unexpectedly blessed, snuggled into her passenger seat, the lap belt tight around my waist, my head pressed against the windshield and roof of her tiny car. Her delicate wrists caught my attention. I found I was avoiding looking up at her, so I did. She was watching the road with an enigmatic smile on her face. "I like this," I said shyly and quietly.
We parked in some pinewoods near some wooden structures. She said they were making it an ashram and a Native American study center, and I nodded like I was interested in all that. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't uninterested in anything that interested her, it was just that 99.9% of my brain was delighting in that moment in watching her reel out this conversation about her living space to allay her own fears or shyness or something, and how damn cute she was doing it.
Nobody else seemed to be around. The tour led directly into her little bedroom tidily crammed with stuff and a small bed. She shut the door. She looked at me expectantly. She said, "You're a shy one," not disparagingly, but like an endearment, and pushed me down to sitting on the bed.
It was not a particularly sturdy bed. Then she straddled my lap, removed her ecology t-shirt, and stuffed the majority of one of her delightful little titties into my mouth. She was a B-cup by my reckoning, and her nipples were brown and as delicate as the rest of her. Both her nipples were pointy hard now, I could see and feel, as I had the other one in my fingers and was playing with it as well.
We stayed that way for a while, her humming a tune softly, like a lullaby. She asked, "Do you know how a baby suckles?" I shook my head no. She lifted off my t-shirt and threw it over her shoulder. Then she latched onto one of my man tits and started this unmistakable sucking and eating motion with her mouth. I giggled uncontrollably because it tickled. I'm very ticklish, especially when nervous. I was a quick study, and started doing that to her other one, taking pretty much her entire tit into my mouth. She breathed harder and more ragged like she loved it. After that, I switched back to the first one for a while.