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Joyce 2/4 (mf, breastfeeding)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
"Where's Joyce?"
He was standing with April in the foyer after the service. She was
fully dressed.
"She's still in the baby room," April was saying. "You can go in if
you like." She grinned.
"What are you doing?" asked Curt.
"I'm nursing," said Joyce, quietly.
He had opened the door and stepped in cautiously. There had been
Joyce, sitting quietly, another baby in her arms. Something was wrong
with the scene. Curt had looked carefully. One of Joyce's pale, round
breasts was exposed. The baby was sucking contentedly at it.
Curt probed a bit. "Don't you have to have a baby to do that? To feed
it, I mean."
Joyce looked matter-of-fact. "No. You can get milk on your own. A lot
of girls do -- you have to have milk to work here."
"So, uh, that's why you would never let me touch you there?"
"Yeah." She grinned mildly. "I was afraid something embarrassing
would happen."
"Like, it might hurt?" Now he was smiling too.
"No," she replied. Her smile faded slightly. "If you squeezed them,
milk would start coming out."
"Oh."
There was a pause. Curt said, "But you're not, um, hiding yourself
now."
Joyce smiled again. "You're ready."
Just then, Mrs. Thomson walked in briskly. She gave Curt a sharp
look. Then she walked over to Joyce. "Thank you for nursing Jessica,"
she said, taking the baby in her arms. "I'll see you next week." Mrs.
Thomson walked out, giving Curt another sharp look as she passed.
Joyce sat serenely in the middle of the room, then, her legs
together, one of her breasts exposed. She smiled. "Well," she said,
"what do you want to do?"
*****
Joyce let her bra drop completely off as she made her way to the door
of the baby room. She locked the door. Then she went back to the
chair and sat down. "Come'ere," she said.
Curt knelt before Joyce and kissed her lips. His tongue slid forward
through the tight passage and into her mouth. It met her tongue, and
the two velvetly intertwined.
But before he knew what was happening, Joyce was moving his head
firmly down, down to her chest. Her hands pressured his shoulders
until his lips were in front of her big, soft orb. It seemed even
bigger now that he was right in front of it.
"Come on," she was saying. "Try my milk."
Then he was sucking at her nipple. He noticed several things at once:
how puffy her large areola was, how its soft moistness helped him to
latch on, how full the nipple itself felt in his mouth, and then, in
a quick stream, how warm and so very sweet Joyce's milk tasted. Curt
felt close to his girlfriend as he nursed from her thick nipple, and
as he sucked more intently, he felt her hand begin to caress his
hair. His stomach began to feel warm and full.
When she was done breastfeeding Curt, Joyce sat up and reached up her
dress with both hands. She slid her panties off smoothly, and after
she let them drop to the floor, she spread her legs. Her dress slid
up past her thighs.
Curt didn't have to be told what to do. As he opened her, leaned
down, and let his tongue slide through the trough of her vulva, Joyce
drew in a slow breath and thought of the other time this had happened
to her. She was thirteen, the guy was sixteen. That was as far as she
had let him go. She didn't exactly understand the purpose of it,
until she felt a warm tingling burning white hot pleasure there
between her legs. There was just one of them, and she didn't know for
a long time that this was orgasm. But Joyce was 18 now, and she knew
a lot more than she had five years before.
[continued]
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