Thumbsucker

I never was a thumbsucker as a child.

#gts #shrinking #softvore #lactating

*****

I never was a thumbsucker as a child. Some basic instinct left me; I was a teeth-gnasher, knife-wielder, a kid who knocked jawbreakers in two between her molars. Candy was no match for me, and as I aged I grew fixated on any substance malleable enough to gnaw on, idly crunching on the necks of soda bottles like some lost puppy or nibbling rubber bands into knotted masses. Then, as a teenager, I moved to lusting after the gush of blood escaping from just-seared meat, reveling in the tactile mass, the realness, the wet and luxurious reward. Not to say that my fingers stayed out of my mouth—rather the opposite, really. I chewed off my nails, and then the roughened bits of skin that surrounded them. I dipped them in anything that looked moderately delicious and then savored the flavor secondhand, enhanced by the salt of my own skin.

But thumbsucking? No. I sought experience rather than the comfort the action connotated. From a psychological perspective, I guess I didn't miss my mother's tit. From the sounds of it, though, maybe my thumbs were missing out.

Beneath me, your body was still like the center of a storm, only your hips and your hands belying their true instinct—to get as far inside of my mouth as possible. Your thrusts brought my lips murmuring against the soft hair framing your cock and a heavy, choking pressure to the curve where my throat tunneled down into my stomach. It almost brought me to tears, that urge to heave as you penetrated an area of me so forbidden—but there was something about the earthy, rugged masculinity of you that brought chills to my body and made it submit. Easily. I sucked until the flavor of your sweat's salt was replaced by the sweet musk of your skin, sucked until the inside of my cheeks caressed the base of you.

The way of your pleasure, your taste and your small rough noises, like a throaty purr, made me weak and deeply aroused. When I'm turned on, it's like being drunk on sensation, where a hand dragging along where my shoulders meet my neck is felt in the depths of my stomach. Warmth spreaded through me like a spill, making me light-headed with hunger.

There are so many dimensions to the senses. When I paused to take a breath, I reveled in the scene of your erection proud and upright, slick with my saliva, the tiniest drop of precum pooling at the tip like a cake decoration, sliding gently down the hilt and mixing imperceptibly with our other fluids. Bringing pleasure to another person is like creating art—living art, squirming helplessly beneath you, reacting so intimately to your every whim. In a fantasy, the world that surrounded us would melt away and I could be entirely consumed by you, could lose a part of myself in your flavors.

But this isn't a fantasy, and (with no regret) I'm forced to suffice with the opposite—allowing you to lose yourself in me.

I rubbed my check in affectionate lust along the side of your cock, reveling in the heat that radiated from the warm, throbbing flesh. Then, I moved downward and rolled my tongue along the underside of your balls, swirling upward until my lips again found the head of your manhood. I couldn't decide what was better, sometimes—when we discovered together how wonderfully dirty you were, or helping you get clean again.

The idea of both was painfully distracting, and I responded to the arc of your body by lifting my breasts to surround you, delighted by the way your hardness disappeared between my pillowy bulk. Warm hills of smooth flesh rubbed back and forth along every inch of you, my nipples hardening as they brushed against the taut skin on your thighs, bringing forth huge white droplets of milk. Desperation for you to suck my own creamy milk rose within me, but I fought back the urge to bring my chest to your mouth and instead focused on the heat within myself. My breath followed and stoked it, filling me with something flowing and heady, a rhythmic pulsation.

The stickiness of your cock painted my plump lips when they met again, and I opened my mouth to engulf you. Your shaft strained the walls of my mouth, forcing my tongue to shift and wetly nudge your edges. My hands wrapped around your hips and squeezed them, tempting my nails to sink their points into you. Even when I met your writhing resistance, I continued to squeeze, pushing you further into the back of my throat, compressing you, changing you.

You shrank almost imperceptively at first, your dick fitting just a little more easily in my throat and your ass within my hands. I growled and could feel the whole universe throb underneath me, the gravity of the moon pulling my labia. Power and heat rose from my belly and swirled around where you thrusted in my throat, and I felt your body quickly growing smaller and smaller beneath me, a helpless and delicious snack.

When I opened my eyes again and felt the fury of my desire ebb away somewhat, you had become about four or five inches tall, amazed and lost between the tangle of the white sheets and the pressure of my breasts atop you. I sat up and freed you, and for a moment you tried to wiggle backwards away from me, in some overwhelming mixture of arousal and terror.

I overcame you quickly, grabbing your lower legs in my mouth. Your taste quickly suffused into every corner of my mouth, making me want more of you. With one hand, I held your torso and spread your struggling legs with my curious pink tongue, slurping delicately at your warmest, most mouthwatering parts. When I finished teasing you with my slippery wetness, I drowned your upper body in my drool, grinning at the sensation of your fists beating against the roof of my mouth. Gently, I pushed the tips of two of my teeth into your body, knowing the exact way your thrilled gasp sucked in a rush of my slick liquid.

With a slurp, I pulled you out of the enclosing textures of my mouth and laid you on the bed beneath my neglected pussy. Our heat resonated even before I touched you, crushing you underneath the slippery lips of my cunt—and that was divine. Not just the solidness of your entire body pressed against me, but the knowledge that I could swallow the whole of you within me at once, to suckle you and fuck myself with you.

And then that's exactly what I did. With a last look at your gorgeous face, flushed with reds and golds even in the shadow of my now-enormous body, I angled my hips so that my buttocks grazed the sheets and my belly button tilted toward the sky, and slid you into my tunneling warmth. You were a fascinating shape inside of me, and my muscles clenched in excitement, suffocating you into my creamy contours. I was already very close to orgasm from all the play we'd done earlier, and the awareness of finally having you inside of me after waiting for so long—finally, and with all the intricacy of your shape, the passion of your futile resistance—brought me over the edge with incredible force, so that I fell to my knees and my consciousness dissolved into the feeling of you being pumped in and out of me as I came hard around you.

Breathing me in, lost within my depths. That's all I thought about for the next few moments, as my pussy convulsed around your form. When my body finally allowed you to emerge from me, you were gasping and quaking, drenched completely in my orgasm.

"Shhh," I whispered, lifting you from your puddle. Even though I was spent, the possibility for more delicious sensations were irresistible. "Suck on me, my darling," I offered, nudging your face with my breast. I was still leaking milk, and its gooey sweetness clung to you.

My nipple fit perfectly in your mouth—so fucking perfectly, the way your cock was snug in mine, and you sucked me the same way I would you. More biting, though, I thought, as a moan snuck out from behind my lips. God, your tiny teeth felt incredible, and it seemed like the milk that was oozing uncontrollably into your mouth only made you bite down harder. I held you between my bosom, massaging away the ache of their fullness while you suckled me.

I never was a thumbsucker, but when I drew you back into the warmth of my mouth, I knew you belonged there. I willed you to shrink even more, so that I could push you in the corners adjacent to my teeth, suck the flavor of my pussy and other mingled sex-nectar from your perfect skin, roll you along my tongue and savor you.

There is a certain intimacy that comes with having something in your mouth. Testing its contours, feeling its shape with an organ so full of potential. Fragile, and yet powerful. You tasted better than anything I'd experienced, and I was fixated: I wanted to be filled with your goodness forever.

Twirling my tongue around your miniscule body one last time, I pushed you back and compressed the muscles in my throat along your length, like I would if I were sucking your cock, and swallowed you hard.

*****

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