Akita Momma
I swear, this is the last time. Coming off a very nice high from yesterday's post and back for round two, but this time with a native Akita momma. How the milk tastes depends a lot on what the mother eats. Today was carrots and rice, is what I picked up. The milk flowed warmly and freshly from her pink nipples.
I mentioned earlier she's from Akita, but another thing I wanted to highlight a bit is that Akita Prefecture has always been associated with the "bijin" or "beauty" in English, and often times when travel adverts post up about this prefecture they like to include a picture of an "Akita Beauty." I have been to Akita, and I can attest to the beauty. In all fairness though, there are beauties all over Japan, it's just that Akita Prefecture is well known for having the most, according to popular opinion.
I went with her because of this fact, and because she had some very large breast, and she possessed the classic Japanese momma touch I drool over. That being: Black hair, fair skinned, monster thick smooth clean thighs, and most of all, busty! Tattoo free.
It was really nice this time around, too. Her breasts were so large that when lain flush on my face, they covered the whole circumference of it. I had to come up for air every now and then. The one thing I really enjoyed was her looking down at me, as each breast dangled and bobbled on my face and around my mouth. I looked up at her and as our eyes met we began to share each others breathing, and rhythm. Her eyes were so big, black and beautiful, and as milk began to flow again, she uttered some baby talk, and a few moans all while looking deep into my eyes. I noticed how perfect her nose was too. Sometimes in life it's easier to see things from the bottom up. Her face was flawless which only served to fuel my passion even further.
The way she was crouched over me was like a lioness protecting her cub. It felt as if she were literally hiding me under her breasts and feeding me her sweetness. My left hand held on to her smooth left muscular thigh where I could feel the tautness in the skin. I loved it when she turned her head slowly from left to right as if she was looking out for encroaching danger from afar. I think we were both a little overwhelmed by the whole experience, so to glance away every now and then was natural. She would utter the words "daijoubu" and stretching the vowels for emphasis. This word means, everything is ok, don't worry. It was beautiful. Then she would look back down at me in a gentle way - and then giggle from time to time. It may have been the baby blue knit cap I wear to these sessions.
I think this is one of the charm points I harp on about over the harmony between strength and beauty. I love how a woman infuses the two, and so masterfully once she has realized what role in the relationship she is most comfortable assuming. It takes a lot to be a mother, and I sort of in a way pervert the concept of Japanese motherhood, but I feel there is an element of beauty in my type of Japanese momma worship, since so much emphasis is placed on anorexia and girly cuteness here, I feel I need to qualify my own idea of beauty because if I don't do it, who else will? I'm duty bound to counter the destructive nature of anorexic beauty, pigeon toed air headed conceptions that Japanese men tend to fawn over about feminine beauty.
When I look at my wet nurses breasts, images of Mt. Chokai appear in my mind's eye. I have seen the graceful curvature of this large mountain in Akita. Like when its spring waters come rushing down after melting and replenishing the eco-system and providing water for sake brewers. The smell of Kiritanpo in the air, freshly stewed. The mornings are amazingly crisp and cool. There's a mist floating off from a hot spa somewhere and that somehow mixes in with the smell of evergreen. And then there's the singing of birds and the rustling of leaves. And then it's the wholesome goodness of this Japanese momma. The live video feed for this momma is here on Jukujo-tv.
The soul of Japan
I mentioned earlier she's from Akita, but another thing I wanted to highlight a bit is that Akita Prefecture has always been associated with the "bijin" or "beauty" in English, and often times when travel adverts post up about this prefecture they like to include a picture of an "Akita Beauty." I have been to Akita, and I can attest to the beauty. In all fairness though, there are beauties all over Japan, it's just that Akita Prefecture is well known for having the most, according to popular opinion.
I went with her because of this fact, and because she had some very large breast, and she possessed the classic Japanese momma touch I drool over. That being: Black hair, fair skinned, monster thick smooth clean thighs, and most of all, busty! Tattoo free.
It was really nice this time around, too. Her breasts were so large that when lain flush on my face, they covered the whole circumference of it. I had to come up for air every now and then. The one thing I really enjoyed was her looking down at me, as each breast dangled and bobbled on my face and around my mouth. I looked up at her and as our eyes met we began to share each others breathing, and rhythm. Her eyes were so big, black and beautiful, and as milk began to flow again, she uttered some baby talk, and a few moans all while looking deep into my eyes. I noticed how perfect her nose was too. Sometimes in life it's easier to see things from the bottom up. Her face was flawless which only served to fuel my passion even further.
The way she was crouched over me was like a lioness protecting her cub. It felt as if she were literally hiding me under her breasts and feeding me her sweetness. My left hand held on to her smooth left muscular thigh where I could feel the tautness in the skin. I loved it when she turned her head slowly from left to right as if she was looking out for encroaching danger from afar. I think we were both a little overwhelmed by the whole experience, so to glance away every now and then was natural. She would utter the words "daijoubu" and stretching the vowels for emphasis. This word means, everything is ok, don't worry. It was beautiful. Then she would look back down at me in a gentle way - and then giggle from time to time. It may have been the baby blue knit cap I wear to these sessions.
I think this is one of the charm points I harp on about over the harmony between strength and beauty. I love how a woman infuses the two, and so masterfully once she has realized what role in the relationship she is most comfortable assuming. It takes a lot to be a mother, and I sort of in a way pervert the concept of Japanese motherhood, but I feel there is an element of beauty in my type of Japanese momma worship, since so much emphasis is placed on anorexia and girly cuteness here, I feel I need to qualify my own idea of beauty because if I don't do it, who else will? I'm duty bound to counter the destructive nature of anorexic beauty, pigeon toed air headed conceptions that Japanese men tend to fawn over about feminine beauty.
When I look at my wet nurses breasts, images of Mt. Chokai appear in my mind's eye. I have seen the graceful curvature of this large mountain in Akita. Like when its spring waters come rushing down after melting and replenishing the eco-system and providing water for sake brewers. The smell of Kiritanpo in the air, freshly stewed. The mornings are amazingly crisp and cool. There's a mist floating off from a hot spa somewhere and that somehow mixes in with the smell of evergreen. And then there's the singing of birds and the rustling of leaves. And then it's the wholesome goodness of this Japanese momma. The live video feed for this momma is here on Jukujo-tv.
The soul of Japan
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