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Lactogenesis XV: The Old Flame part 2 (mf)
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.
LACTOGENESIS XV: THE OLD FLAME, PART 2
Carl bent slightly and began unhooking Chris's bra. There were more
hooks than he remembered. The straps fell away, but her breasts were so
firm that the cups stayed in place. He began caressing them roughly,
grabbing and squeezing hard. Chris knew that one of her surprises would
be prematurely revealed if she allowed that to continue, so she disengaged
herself and gently removed Carl's hands. She led him over to the bed, his
spit-wet erection gently bobbing in time to his elevated pulse. She lay
back on the mattress and arched her back, pressing her impressive bosom
skyward. Carl was expecting her breasts to disappear into her armpits
when she lay down and was amazed when they didn't. He was looking for
surgical scars, unconvinced that these magnificent mounds could be real,
could actually be Chris. She took his hands and placed one on each hip,
silently instructing him to remove her panties. He did so, and was again
mildly shocked at the sight of Chris's naked labia.
"Woman, I don't know what's brought on all these changes, but I like
it, I like it." Further talk was impossible as Chris grabbed Carl's head
and pushed it downward toward her waiting flesh. She was remembering how
she'd had to practically beg him to go down on her in the past; now he
couldn't complain about pubic hair in his mouth. Carl licked at her
tentatively, but when he tasted her musky sweetness, he went to her like a
starving man. His tongue parted her inner lips and curled about her
pearl-like clit as he swirled it in ever-faster circles. Chris's juices
began flowing, coating his chin and starting to run down his neck. Carl
slid his index finger along her slit, finding the entrance, and inserting.
He curled his finger around and up, looking for Chris's G-spot. Another
finger joined it, then a third. Chris felt herself moving toward an
orgasm, but it was too soon, too soon. She needed to re-exert control, so
she again disengaged, sliding out from under him and guiding him around
until he lay on his back.
Chris swung one leg over Carl's hips and reaching behind her, grabbed
his cock and guided it to her drooling pussy. She rubbed the tip up and
down along her slit, letting herself open wide for him. In one smooth
motion she sat down on him, burying him to the hilt. The girth of his
shaft stretched her pussy, at first painfully, but as she continued to
lubricate, the sensation changed to one of intense pleasure. Chris hadn't
had a dick inside her for months, and as a result, she knew she wouldn't
be able to hold back very long. She began riding him, pulling him out
almost to the tip, then slamming back down. Using another tip Sherri had
taught her, Chris began to do her Kegel exercises, alternately squeezing
and releasing Carl's cock with her vaginal muscles. She'd found that
these exercises had intensified her orgasms during masturbation, and she
was eager to see their effect on Carl. That was easy; Carl's head was
tipped back and almost obscured by the pillow. Only his nose and open,
gasping mouth were visible. He began spouting random obscenities as he
too began building toward orgasm.
As she bounced upon him, Chris leaned over Carl, dangling her breasts
in his face. She raked her long nipples over his lips, feeling the milk
behind them pressing down, wanting to be released. She thought of rain on
a window, a single droplet running down the surface. In response a single
drop of milk, then another, appeared on her nipple and ran down between
Carl's parted lips. When the sweet liquid hit his tongue, Carl's eyes
opened wide, and he turned his head away.
"What the hell is that?" he demanded.
Chris straightened up, two thin lines of milk running down the lower
half of her breasts. She stopped bouncing, but continued moving her hips,
keeping Carl's penis in contact with her clit. "I have milk now," she
said simply. "Isn't that fantastic? Want to see?" She cupped her
breasts and placed fingers at each areola, preparing to spray him down.
Carl threw his arms up in front of his face. "Shit, no!" he shouted.
"That's gross! Don't do that, please."
Chris felt disappointment threatening to wash away the wonderfulness
of the feeling coming from between her legs. She had hoped Carl might
appreciate her gift, but was not overly surprised to find it repelled him.
Carl had never been much for bodily fluids, with the possible exception
of pussy juice. She was more concerned with the softening she was
beginning to detect in her cunt. There was no way Carl was going to get
away without her coming first, so she began the mental exercises to shut
down the flow from her breasts while starting up her vaginal contractions
again. After a few seconds Carl had forgotten all about Chris's lactating
breasts.
Chris clamped down hard on Carl, squeezing him as tightly as she
could. Her cunt was sopping now, and her pistoning motion was creating a
frothy mixture of her juices and his pre-come. She tilted her hips
forward slightly to increase the contact against her clit. The added
pressure was too much for Carl. "Oh, God, I'm gonna come!" he suddenly
moaned.
Not yet, you're not, Chris thought through the buzz of her own
impending orgasm. She reached back and making a ring from thumb and
forefinger, clamped down at the base of Carl's cock, freezing his spunk in
mid-rise and causing his shaft to expand even further with trapped blood.
Carl yelped and began pleading with Chris to let go, but she didn't hear
him. The added swelling had provided just what she needed to complete her
journey. She arched back and gave herself over to the wave crashing down
on her. As she came, her flood of juice squirted out around Carl's rod,
instantly soaking his pubic hair and the bedclothes beneath. Chris began
bucking like a rider helpless on a bronco. Each downward stroke produced
another gush of liquid, spewing in time with Chris's yells of delight.
Carl's reaction was immediate. He shouted incoherently and arched his
hips upward, throwing Chris off him. She lost her grip on his penis. Now
free of its bondage, Carl's cock fired a thick stream of jism into the
air. It landed on his stomach as Carl tried to wriggle free. "God DAMN
it!" he yelled. "You PISSED on me, you fucking bitch!" He leaped out of
bed and stood there, his entire lower half dripping, a long string of come
dangling from the end of his fast-shrinking penis. "What the fuck are you
DOING?!"
Chris had to scramble to keep from falling off the bed. She came up
fuming. "I was NOT pissing!" she yelled back. "I was COMING, you stupid
clod! What's the matter? Can't handle a sexually complete woman?!"
Carl hurriedly wiped himself off with the bedspread, then began
collecting his clothes. "I don't know what the fuck planet you came from,
but you sure as hell aren't the Chris I used to boff. What the hell
*happened* to you, anyway?"
"I grew up. I woke up. I'm not the submissive little mouse you used
to use for a fuck toy." She looked hard at him, struggling with his
clothes, hopping on one foot as he tried to pull on his pants. What had
she ever seen in him? "Shit. Get out of here, Carl. I just realized I
don't ever want to see you again."
"No problem. I'm gone," he said, moving toward the door, shoes in
hand. He stopped at the doorway and turned to her. Angrily he said, "You
know, nobody's ever going to want to sleep with you with you spewing all
that shit. They're all going to run, just like me." He was off down the
hall. Chris heard him say "Stupid cunt," just before the door slammed.
Chris sat on the bed, trying to sort out her feelings. Her body was
complaining that Carl had interrupted it in mid-orgasm. Her breasts felt
like they were ready to burst. She was upset at the intensity of Carl's
negative reaction, and angry at herself for even having returned his call.
She realized that she really was a different person now, and as far as
sexual liaisons were concerned, she was going to have to burn all her
bridges and start over fresh. Gone were all traces of the pre-accident
Christine. Sherri had already started her with some novel experiences --
her frequent assists with Sherri's campaign to start lactating, for
example -- but it was up to her to find the kind of partner her new
sexuality demanded.
Chris looked at the wet sheets. Whoever it's going to be, they're
going to have to really like to get wet, she thought. She felt a
momentary pang of panic. Are there guys out there that will appreciate me
and what I can do? she wondered. Or will they all be like Carl, bolting
as soon as they see a drop of milk or a trickle of pussy juice? I don't
know if I could take that...
She wasn't about to let herself get depressed. There *must* be men
who get turned on by a human fountain, she told herself. If there's
anything I've learned from my years at the paper, it's that there are all
kinds of people in the world. I just hope there are a few of my type in
town. She looked at the door. "Good riddance, dickhead," she said aloud.
"I was just too much woman for him." She looked down at her swollen
breasts, felt the throbbing in her cunt. Well, she thought, no sense in
letting a good buzz go to waste.
With that, she opened her nightstand drawer, took out her vibrator,
and walked into another room, where her breast pump awaited. Chris didn't
come out of that room again for a long time.
<<<to be continued>>>
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