I know Mo told you something about how we began so many years ago. I don’t know what all she told you. So I will attempt to explain from my viewpoint.
I do some woodwork. Some welding. A little painting. I used to build kiosks for people needing that sort of thing. Tables. Stands. The advertising company that Mo was with at the time hired me to do some displays for them. In meetings with them, I was introduced to Mo. From the beginning I was intrigued by the way she thought. Her openness, humor and frankness. Refreshing. And, to me, very entertaining. Being in groups, we would include lunches in the meetings and Mo and I sat with each other on occasion. I would try to make that happen as deep conversation with her was constant. There was never a loss for words. I built up quite an admiration for her. I began hanging out after meetings to chat with her and we had some of the most entertaining conversations. I looked forward to being with her. As Mo, at the time, tended to disguise what Jackie Mason in “the Jerk” described as his wife’s ‘pulchritude,’ I finally began to notice that Mo was hiding a very nice rack, just camouflaged so as not to attract unwanted attention. Being a confirmed breast man, I was intrigued. One time around then the group went to a small Italian restaurant for lunch and I got to sit on the side of the booth with Mo. As Mo did, she had to excuse herself to visit the facilities, so I slid out to let her out and when she returned I stood to allow her back in but when she slid past me, I have to admit I ‘accidentally’ brushed the back of my hand against her breast. She was wearing a very soft grey and black sweater and my hand innocently pressed in to that amazing delicious mound.
Believe me, I used that that night and many nights thereafter accompanied by my increasing observation of the physical Mo. Before my eyesight began to wane, I was a big reader as was Mo. We compared things we had read and talked about our favorite bookstores and I told her of mine.
Mo was devious. Wonderfully devious but devious nonetheless. I mentioned that I was going to go to that store the particular night when were in a meeting. And I did.
I was perusing their collection of British Napoleonic era Naval fiction, a favorite at the time, and who should appear as I crouched to scan the bottom shelf, a pair of long legs. I looked up and saw a view I was to appreciate for many years. Mo with her amazing underboobs (sadly totally clothed at the time for obvious social reasons but much less so than her work image) and I was probably speechless.
Awkward greetings completed, light chat and we both completed our purchases and she asked if I would like to sit in her car and chat a bit.
I was always eager to chat with her, and her bosom, far better displayed away from work (and as it turns out totally for my benefit) cemented the idea.
We sat for 20 minutes or so and I said I was going to watch (again) the movie “Brazil” for the umpteenth time.
Somewhere in our frequent conversations, we had both mentioned our love of those old pneumatic systems that department stores used to use to route sales paperwork from the point of sale to the accounting office. Odd thing to share a liking for, but that was Mo.
I told her they had a bunch of pneumatic tubes in “Brazil” and would she care to come to my house to watch the movie? I don’t believe there was the slightest pause between the question mark at the end of my sentence and her eager positive reply.
I said great. I was going to give her my address and she told me she knew where I lived (even though she lived in a different town… I told you she was devious.)
We arrived at the same time, went inside and I put on the tape (it was THAT long ago) and we sat on the couch.
She sat on my right but up against me. I loved that. The movie started and I put my arm around her and she snuggled a little closer.
The movie had not progressed far when my right hand found the beautiful large firm sideboob bulge and I was powerless not to fondle it. Here is where Mo’s phenomenal personality erupted. She pulled away from me, leaned forward and pulled her sweater off over her head (as Kismet works, it was the same grey sweater) and without a pause, reached behind her, unhooked her bra, had that off and on the floor and she sat back against the back of the couch and sat there and looked at me expectantly.
The thing I remember most at that point, and the thing that probably defines my basic tastes was that I absolutely loved her nipples.
Sorry, I use the word nipples to include the areola. To me it is all one amazing thing and I am totally smitten with ‘nipples.’
To this date, I remember thinking to myself, goodness gracious those are some great nipples.
I had more previous situations than I care to think of getting to that point with a young lady and her nipples just did not meet my expectations. Mo’s absolutely did.
Things progressed rapidly.
A lot of breast fondling, nipple play followed by extensive nursing. All during this time, Mo was investigating the changes that had sprung to life in my lap as my hand had also slid into her shorts/panties. Apparently this inspired Mo to go to that for which she was so well known. Her vocal abilities to carry on an enchanting conversation was supported by an oral skill for which, to me, has never been matched. Brazil was long forgotten.
I do not believe Mo breathed either, although her asphyxia was for a different reason.
And about sucked me inside out. The universe exploded.
But it was Mo’s turn and my innocent little foray into her panties became an earnest intent to repay her kindness to me.
And then I found out something else about Mo previously unimagined. It took no time, no effort, only tender and dedicated administrations with what Mo forever called the most talented fingers she ever met, focused on Mo’s sensitivities and she let out the loudest most amazing utterances, the likes of which I was totally unused.
Announcing forthcoming events.
We both lay back on the couch, glowing.
As I have long been guilty of gluttony, I couldn’t stop there and in a matter of moments I wanted to see what more Mo would do, so I began again ministration to her sensitive parts in earnest which was rewarded by an even more intense explosion within mere moments.
I didn’t want to stop and repeated effortsl produced increasingly earth shattering results, greater than the last.
More and more. Over and over.
Until, and I lost count as that would not be gentlemanly, she went somewhere into the ether.
She certainly was not there with me. But she soon returned and that began the most amazing amazing friendship that lasted a lifetime. Thank you, Mo, for giving my life substance. In so many ways.