OK, sober stories, hmm… how about this one then:
Went on a journey with some older people, due to a relative, normal sight seeing and we were travelling by bus. I noticed an older lady with her friend as they walked towards the bus, her coat was distorted at her waist and down. I didn’t expect anything sexual from this trip at all, so I was unprepared for the sight when she unbuttoned the coat in front of me, said hi to my aunt and shook hands with me. The sagging fatness of her bosom hit me hard and as she held my hand and remarked to my aunt that she brought a nice young man, I felt my excitement grow rapidly. The huge bra made her bosom swell around her waist in a strange way, but the surplus breast meat swelled over the brim of her bra and showed clearly through the tight top.
We entered the bus and my aunt sat down, the bosomy lady sat behind us, talking to her friend. Suddenly she patted me on my shoulder and asked me who I was, in relation to my aunt, I turned and told her, and we had a small conversation about my mom and dad, and she told me her name was Yvonne. As the bus got moving, her bosom moved with the bumps and turns, between and under her arms, the surplus breast meat shivering softly. It was hard not to watch, but she didn’t seem to care, they rested heavily in her lap.
She told me about her late husband, about living alone, how fun it was to meet friends like this and I felt her hand patting me more often than necessary. She was no beauty, thick glasses and wrinkles, but those breasts.
People started talking around us, and the leader of the trip informed about what we were to receive during the day. I talked to my aunt for a while, and then I felt someone standing in the middle of the bus, touching my thigh. Yvonne stood beside me, looking forward, her heavy bosom in my line of sight, she went forward to ask something and I watched her thin back. When she came back, she smiled at me, the bus shook suddenly and she lost her balance, grabbing my shoulder, I felt her left breast swinging into my upper arm, and staying there as she regained her composure, giggling as she supported herself. Needless to say I was overwhelmed.
-I’m so sorry, John, she said and I held her upper hip, supporting her.
-I don’t mind, Yvonne, said I and smiled, she blushed and turned fully to my aunt and started a conversation with her, as she bent forward a bit, her bosom rested on my arm and hand and in my lap. My hand was filled with her left breast, I couldn’t resist caressing slowly and Yvonne reacted by leaning in even more towards my aunt, pressing her heavy breast into my hand, I was slowly groping the very soft mass of her breast. My cock pressed into her other breast.
This lasted some minute or so, maybe longer, then she straightened and my hand was free again. I couldn’t believe this situation and when she caressed my neck with her finger, I knew this was one of those moments.
My aunt said something to Yvonne and she leaned forward again, her overwhelming breasts rested on me again, this time I felt something like a nipple in my hand, and I caressed it slowly and tenderly.
-Maybe you want to sit, Yvonne, I said and she smiled at me.
-No thanks, much better like this, John, we can talk later about where to sit, we’ll be at the museum soon, she said and I kneaded her hanging breast on the backside, or rather under it, up to her belly, just to confirm I was allowed. She didn’t move at all, apparently satisfied with my hand exploring.
Then suddenly we had arrived. Yvonne rose and got her coat. I let my aunt out in the middle, feeling Yvonne’s soft bosom in my back, sorry, I said to her, and she patted my shoulder assuring me that it was ok.
During the time in the museum, my aunt wanted to see something special, and we separated from Yvonne and her friend, but as we had some coffee, they returned, Yvonne sat on the bench beside me, her friend by my aunt. Her swelling bosom pressed against the table, she sat close to me, and her breast rested on my thigh. Carefully I placed my left arm on the table, the right under the table, my right hand touched her thick breast lightly, she didn’t react, then I placed my hand on her breast, and waited, she didn’t move, then I started groping her softly, caressing the soft breast.
-…so good to see you, Yvonne said, and your niece, he’s a nice young man, isn’t he?
-Yes, very nice, said my aunt, and kind.
-Yes, kind indeed, Yvonne said looking at me, I could have sworn that she winked at me.
On the bus again, towards lunch. Got separated from Yvonne again, my aunt and I had a good time, talking.
-Yvonne has incredibly large breasts, did you notice?, my aunt said, everybody has told her to get rid of them, they must be so heavy, don’t you think?
-Yes, very heavy, but I’m a man you know, I couldn’t imagine what it feels like.
-I saw her in the changing room once, at the swimming pool, they hang down very low, I remember watching them move as she walked around. Her late husband liked them though, he couldn’t let go of them at times, we didn’t like him very much, kneading Yvonne’s breasts in public. A terrible man, he was.
Then we left the table and got into the bus, Yvonne sat there already and smiled at us, I smiled back at her as did my aunt. Nothing more happened on the bus, but we arrived to a small mall with home made stitchings, cloths and really good things for older women. My aunt disappeared and I wandered around aimlessly, suddenly I bumped into Yvonne, walking by herself, she took hold of my arms and the sides of her enormous breasts were in my hands, she pressed herself into me, her bosom pushing into my groin and lower belly. I kneaded her soft, soft breasts and watched into her eyes.
-Ooooohhh, John, what are you doing to me, she whispered, caressing my arms.
-Caressing your breasts, Yvonne, do you mind?
-Noooo, keep on, said Yvonne, are you hard now, John.
-Ohhh, yes, I said, digging under her hanging breasts, they were heavy.
Someone came by and I separated from her, her friend came also and the moment was gone. As we got on the bus again, I hoped to get some more opportunity, but nothing more happened.
As I hugged Yvonne outside the bus, when we got home, she whispered to me that I should call her.
