Why I Have Sensitive Nipples

By Kendra Holliday | January 20, 2023

Me, years ago

When I was 19, I was a stripper.

My job was to get really close to men and arouse them. Their job was not to touch my breasts or genital area.

I did my job well, but they often tried sneaking a feel of the forbidden areas.

Sometimes they touched and I was badly surprised, and other times I could see them creeping toward the breasts, and I would tense up and cringe and try and deflect their fingers.

For nine months, I had hundreds of men grab my breasts and tweak/pinch my nipples without my consent.

When I finally quit there, my breasts were so traumatized that they couldn’t be touched for three years. If they were, it felt like an electrical shock.

Breastfeeding

Over time, I got a little better, but my breasts were still very sensitive and had to be handled with utmost care.

Then, when I was 27, I gave birth and breastfed for a year. I was SOO dreading breastfeeding, but was determined to do it for a year. My breasts swelled from A’s to D’s – they were swollen and engorged, with blue veins like highways.

The first six weeks were hell – it hurt so bad. My nipples were raw, red, chafed. Then I started getting used to all the latching, and tugging and pressure, but then I got a series of breast infections – mastitis, thrush, then mastitis again. Red, plugged ducts, feverish, itching, sharp, needle-like pain…

My breasts got brutalized!

Finally, when my daughter turned one, I cut her off, and the next two weeks were awful. I asked my doctor if there was anything I could do to speed up the process of closing up the milk shop, but she said, no, just ice and ibuprofen.

Pale and petite

Years later, my breasts were mine again, but they weren’t an erogenous zone for me. Not only did I have all that painful baggage, but they were very small, almost all nipple, and more than one man mocked them, telling me I needed a boob job.

I grew to HATE MY BREASTS. They were a source of pain and shame.

Then, in the past ten years or so, I started filling out and gaining weight. My breasts swelled into lovely handfuls, and I was determined to make them more of an integral part of my sexuality.

After all, a victim allows their past to dictate their current actions, and I was allowing all those creepy men who pawed at me to hold my breasts hostage.

A survivor is someone who takes their past, and builds off of it to become stronger.

I reminded myself that my breasts were fucking MAGIC. They fed and grew a human being. They mesmerized people. They gave others pleasure, and I wanted them to be pleasurable for me, too!

Us.

So I trained with my partner. I found things that worked. I paid attention to my moods and desires.

I learned to love cupping, caressing, gentle squeezing, and sensual sucking that created jolts of pleasure right down to my pussy. He likes to call himself my “Nipple Whisperer.”

HA! I love it.

I found that, while I could endure tweaking and pinching, it didn’t give me pleasure. It did NOT arouse me, it just irritated me. And FUCK NO to biting, nipple clamps or piercings!

So, I always let play partners know upfront how to handle my breasts. Yay for communication!

A few of them pay attention to my words and treat them well, and turn me on.

But most, I am sorry to say, disregard my instructions and go ahead and tweak and twiddle and grope and pinch and whap at them like a cat toy.

I don’t get it! Does that turn THEM on? Because it doesn’t turn ME on! It’s like they can’t help it – it’s irresistible – they’re under a boobie spell.

Breasts of a Goddess

If someone told me they didn’t like having their balls squeezed, but then I went ahead and did it anyway, wouldn’t that be rude and thoughtless?

And while I’m at it, I will also state for the record that I don’t like being dry finger banged. I don’t know what woman does, but the two biggest things men do wrong with my body is treat it like a video game – tuning in Tokyo, and slammin’ n’ jammin’.

Men – I like being warmed up. You can get me wet by kissing, paying attention to other parts of my body, or by spitting on your fingers, or by going down on me, or by lubing up your fingers. Put away your hard hat and go slow!

Vigorously jamming your fingers into my dry vagina as far as they will go and banging away will NOT prime my pump. It HURTS. If I do get wet, it will not be because I’m aroused, but because my body is trying to defend itself.

So! There you have it. Those are some things I do and don’t like.

What about you? What do you like and don’t like? What turns you on? What turns you off?

 

 

Comments

Stephen 2018-02-13 03:38:46

I am continually stunned by how many men are generally clueless when it comes to sex. Either they just don’t get laid much at all, they just don’t care, or they just never listened. Who the hell dry humps a woman, either via finger or dick?? Tune in Tokyo should be a dead art from the Greco/Roman era. Jeezus.

And for the record, the chesticles when you were ‘pale and petite’ were/are just as grand as ever – very proportionate and very attractive. I’m sure many a man was grateful to have seen them (via your consent, not via a $20 lap dance).

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BT 2023-01-20 09:49:01

Hey I appreciate you sharing your experience. I learned so much about nipples but more importantly how to pay attention to what my play partner wants. I can’t wait to meet you one day. You are an inspiration.

Reply

EricB256 2023-01-21 00:04:49

Thank you for sharing your story, in this post and many oters on this site. It’s such a knowledgebase, there is so much to learn. And you’re a pretty good educator as well.

On to your question: Wahat do you like?

I’ll always remember how I liked to touch my own body when I thought I was still pre-pubescent but had already fallen in love for the 1st time, admiring the girl from afar, and enjoyed getting erect in my spare time, so I was right in the middle of üuberty without knowing it.

I liked the soft tough, gently moving with the rips of my fingers on the surface of my skin, all over my body, slowly circling towards the more sensitive areas such as the side of my stomach, the inner thighs, the butt cheeks. I enjoyed the tingling that the soft touch produced, even when I just moved my legs around underneath the linen sheets. I would crave it so much that I would use time windows when my partents were out of the house to step back into the bed, touch my body in this way and just feel it.And of course, I would enjoy getting erections and touching the tip of what’s now my d*ck but was named differently back then, without knowing what a dick could do apart from getting erect. Also, when in the swimming pool. I would enjoy the soft flow of the water across my bodyespecially if it created that tingling sensation that the touching excursions underneath the blankets produced.
When I was 1st in love, I dreamt I could do that together with the girl.
One time during the evening when I was akready officially sleeping as far as my parents thought what I was doing, I was having yet another of those self-caressing sessions as I could call them today, also looking at a collection I had assembled of cutouts of models dressed in revealing catwalk fashion I had previously taken from the many fashion magazines that were lying around the house because this was a family of tailors whoo worked at home, and put together as collages because I enjoyed how looking at these amazing avantgarde designs made me feel and how that was good for getting erect, there suddenly was this white liquid that came out of my d*ck which I was unprepared for: no towels in reach. I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted clean sheets and I wanted to get back to my caressing session. So I did but it wasn’t quite as exciting as it was before the distraction. Today, I would say my body was “satisfied” but my mind clearly wasn’t. I only learnt about later what had happened that night but that is another story.
To get back to the point of your question: when I finally got my first girlfriend years later, and we had our debut night in bed together, I fondly remembered what I was so looking forward to do back when I was first in love, which is exactly this kind of caressing for the slight tingling effect, also using my lips soft touch moving around all over her body to softly caress her, and it worked like charm to get her in the mood every time from then on.

It’s amazing what a little self-exploraion can do for you when you don’t know nothing about anything: you feel what you like and get into that more, and you imagine what kind of something special you could do to your love to give her the same kind of pleasure, and then you try it out on yourself as a dress rehearsal of sorts, and you get many more ideas of what you could do together.

Biological s*x education doesn’t go there because it’s not about pleaszre but rather about birth control or about keeping the power over the young, and don’t get me started on p*rn: that is a quick fix for people to not feel their desires, to not have to be in touch with their bodies, though, in small quantities, yu could surely use it as a tool as well in self-exploration, if it is well made and has a story. To be honest, I don’t get too much from it. But I’m glad that I know my body so well from all those past explorations, the beginning of which I have written about here with the goal to inspire people to maybe re-think on how they educate. Toys are for much later when you lready know what you can do with your own body to enjoy yourself.

Can I post this here or is it too exlicit? It is not intended to be.

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