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Lactogenesis XLII: The Planning (ff)


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 XLII: THE PLANNING

Christine and Sherri sat at Chris's kitchen table, each with a
pint of Ben & Jerry's (New York Super Fudge Chunk for Chris, Chunky Monkey
for Sherri) and a colorful stack of brochures in front of her. The
contents of each were ever-changing as they passed the flyers and
spoonfuls of ice cream back and forth to one another. Outside the sky
swirled with an unusually late spring snowstorm, the wind carrying record
low temperatures with it.
Sherri pushed yet another brochure toward Chris. "What about
Switzerland? The Alps, those cute guys in those leather shorts..."
Chris tossed her head in the direction of the nearest window.
"Take a look outside and tell me that 'beach' is not an operative word
here," she said. "The weather's been so shitty lately that warm water,
warm sand, and warm sun are the primary considerations." She paused.
"Why can't I convince you to come with me?"
"Honey, we've been through this. You need time alone. We all do.
Jeremy's been working us to death. Lately I've been feeling more like a
dairy cow than a woman. The client he lined me up with last week damn
near sucked my nipples off, he was into it so much. I need to give the
old milk shakes a rest." This time Sherri paused. "You know, I never
thought I'd hear myself say that."
Chris sighed. "Well, it's like I've been trying to tell Jeremy
for weeks now. There's more to life, and more to sex, than just
lactating. I can't believe how obsessed he's gotten with the business.
He looks at me now, all he sees are these." She indicated her perfect,
fully functional breasts. "I tell you, Sherri, I'm ready to hang it up."
"You? Yours don't hang at all." Sherri leaned across the table
and plucked at Chris's shirt, her own milk-laden boobs brushing along the
tabletop as she did so. "You got an anti-gravity device hidden in there?"
That got a smile from Chris. "Well, I think Jeremy's realized we're all
starting to feel that way. That's why he's springing for these
vacations."
"Don't kid yourself," said Chris. "He knows what side his bread's
buttered on. He's not giving us time off out of the goodness of his
heart. Believe me, it's purely business. He doesn't want his 'prime
herd' to burn out on him."
"You mean 'dry up', don't you?" said Sherri.
Chris didn't acknowledge Sherri's attempt at humor. "Notice that
he's only letting two of us go at a time? Do you have any idea what the
work load on the others is going to be while we're gone? I almost feel
guilty taking this vacation."
Sherri thought for a minute. "This is ruining my mood. Fuck
Jeremy anyway."
"I'd like to, believe me," sighed Chris. "Monique is handling
that department very well on her own, though." She stopped and shook her
head. "No, I don't mean that. It's really over between us. I guess it's
just been too long..."
"See? All the more reason to just go off somewhere by yourself.
You need to find some strapping young stranger on a nude beach somewhere,
drag him into the jungle and fuck his brains out."
Chris smiled again, her good mood restored. "Capital suggestion."
She grabbed a handful of brochures. "The question is, where?" She paged
through a few, pitching some into a nearby wastebasket. "You absolutely
sure you won't go with me?"
Sherri shook her head. "As much as I'd love to, I have a feeling
that we'd only remind each other of home and The Lac-Station. I for one
won't want to be talking shop. Besides, Jeremy doesn't know this, but I
plan to pocket my vacation money. One of my clients has offered to spirit
me away to the Costa del Sol for a couple of weeks, and I've decided to
take him up on it."
Chris grinned broadly. "That's great! When do you leave?"
"Day after tomorrow. I didn't want to go before making sure you
were taken care of, though. That's why I brought you all these." She
looked at the brochures on the table. "You know, we're doing this too
scientifically. We've already eliminated everything that's not beach and
ocean, so why not just close your eyes and pick one? Be impulsive!
You're on vacation, for chrissake!"
Chris sat for a few seconds, then suddenly reached out, gathered
up all the brochures, and with eyes closed threw them into the air. When
she opened her eyes again, she saw that one particularly colorful one had
landed right in her lap. She and Sherri exchanged an excited look. Chris
thrust the brochure at Sherri. "I can't look," she said. "You read it."
Sherri scanned the paper, a wide grin slowly spreading over her
face. She read silently for several seconds, occasionally saying
"Yes...yes..."
Finally Chris could stand it no longer. "Well?!" she exploded.
"Where am I going?"
Sherri held up the brochure. "Negril!" she said happily. When
she saw no sign of recognition from Chris, her eyes widened. "I can't
believe you've never heard of it. It's in Jamaica!"
"Jamaica, eh? That sounds nice." Chris seemed only mildly
enthused.
"Nice?! Girlfriend, this place is fantastic! Beautiful white
sand, crystal clear water, ganja everywhere..." Sherri pushed the flyer
at Chris. "This is one of those all-inclusive singles resorts, where all
you have to do is eat, sleep, drink, and fuck. It is absolutely perfect
for you, lady. Negril is THE most laid-back place on the island, maybe in
the whole Caribbean! Believe me, this is the place!" She could tell
Chris was warming to the idea. She added, "And best of all, it's
expensive as hell. Jeremy's going to pay out the ass for this. For
example, did I mention that this package includes a cruise on a big-ass
boat?"
In her mind Chris had a vision of Jeremy with pants around ankles,
hands on knees, straining, bills and coins shooting out of his butt. It
made her laugh out loud. It'd serve the bastard right. He did promise to
bankroll any two weeks they'd care to take...
"Sign me up!" she cried enthusiastically.
"All right!" Sherri yelled. "OK, right after we book this sucker,
we're going shopping. I know your wardrobe doesn't contain the proper
clothes for this." She jumped up and headed for the phone.
Sherri started punching numbers but was suddenly stopped by the
feel of Chris's warm, firm breasts spreading across her back as she hugged
her from behind. "Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without you," Chris
said softly. "You're my guardian angel."
Sherri put down the phone and turned in Chris's arms to face her.
Each had to lean back slightly to accommodate the combined magnificence of
their bustlines. Sherri softly tousled Chris's hair and lightly brushed
her cheek. "Hey, somebody's got to keep you sane. Might as well be me."
Chris looked down along Sherri's torso, down to where their belt
buckles touched. "You know, we're each going to be gone for a couple of
weeks. That's a long time..." She reached up and unsnapped the topmost
snap on Sherri's shirt.
Instantly two wet spots appeared on that shirt, each centered over
a stiffening nipple. "Damn, girl, you really know how to push my
buttons," Sherri mused. She leaned back to allow Chris to finish
unbuttoning her. As Chris's hands disappeared inside the open shirt,
gently caressing, hefting, tweaking, Sherri leaned forward and nibbled at
her earlobe, her own hands seeking Chris's hardened nipples through her
shirt. "You're still going alone, though..."
She felt Chris's breath on her neck as she murmured, "I'm going to
miss you, but I wouldn't dream of trying to change your mind..."
Sherri straightened up and lifted her breasts toward Chris's
mouth. Twin trickles of milk ran down across her fingers, which were
half-buried in the soft flesh of her bosom, and dripped on the kitchen
floor. "Shut up and drink," she said. "Before we make too much of a mess
in here."
Chris only giggled softly. She knew that a mess was inevitable.
It always was with the two of them and the copious fluids they produced...

<<to be continued>>


 
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