I See My Breasts Now In A Whole Other Dimension

I worked for and with this man for ten years. From 21 to 31, I was 31 at the time this happened. I have a friend who at that tender age of 30 was diagnosed with breast cancer and had the BRCA gene. She opted for a double mastectomy. I can't tell you how long I cried for her, losing her breasts was a sentence worse than death. Reconstructive surgery was successful only to the extent that you are wearing clothing. Standing in front of the mirror is different, her body mutilated.

In a moment of desperation I fell apart with my boss and mentor. I held my breasts in my hands asking him if he understood what it was for a woman to lose her identity. Somehow, I ended up in his arms on his lap in his chair as he comforted me. He held me tight so I wouldn't slip off and fall, his hand across my thigh, his fingers at the outside of my crotch. One little slip and he would finger me. I put my arms around his neck to brace myself, pulling myself up for him to hold me better. His kiss was unexpected, hot warm lips kissing me, his hand caressing my butt as he kissed me.

Holding on with all my strength I pressed myself against him, pressing my breasts into his chest as he continued to kiss me. I asked him if I lost my breast would he still love me. He sat me up, opened my shirt and exposed my breasts for him to kiss and fondle. He told me he loved me, how could he not love me, and it was time for him to show me. Standing before him he lowered my pants and put his mouth between my legs, holding me by my bare butt cheeks. I wiggled out of my shoes and pants and sat on his desk with my legs open and he ate me almost to orgasm, before he stood with his pants open and thrust himself in me, to finish there.

'What I want from you is woman, nothing but woman'. I reached up to put my arms around his neck and jump up to put my legs around him. By the time he put me back down I was no longer crying. He admired my breasts and told me that from a man's point of view breasts meant woman, mother, and he thought I would do good if I had my own baby to nurse from me. That he could kiss my breasts, but only a baby latched to my breasts deriving its life supporting nourishment from me could really tell me what my breasts were for. Would I agree to have his baby.

I wasn't able to answer, all I could do was shake my head up and down and smile. That's really why he married me, so I could have his baby. She's so small and tiny and she's latched on like a champion. I feel so bad for my friend that lost her breasts, all I can do is use my breasts to nourish my baby.