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Lactogenesis XLIV: The Cruise part 2
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 XLIV: THE CRUISE, PART TWO
Christine stood at the railing at the bow of the ship, several
stories above the water line, blinking watery eyes caused by the wind
generated by the movement of the Carib Mermaid as she made her way toward
the port of Montego Bay. It was late, well past 1:00 am, on a perfect,
cloudless night. Chris was amazed at how many stars were visible once one
got away from the lights of the mainland. Even though there was no moon,
one could easily see by the starlight, although mainly in dim hues of
bluish gray. Chris was wearing a thin billowy sundress with nothing
underneath and was reveling in the sensations the cool breeze provided as
the fabric rippled across her amaranthine body. From this lofty vantage
point she saw no other people above decks at all; those few passengers
still up at this hour were at the casino or nightclub. Chris felt like
she had this gargantuan ship all to herself.
Perched at the very front end of this boat as she was, Chris was
reminded of the old-fashioned figurehead, usually the undraped torso of a
lovely lady, carved into the bow of classic wooden sailing vessels. She
suddenly felt an impulsive desire to be the Mermaid's figurehead. With a
quick glance around her to confirm she was alone, she reached up and
untied the strings holding her dress around her neck and shoulders. The
top fell away to where the material was gathered at her waist. Chris
leaned out over the railing, arching her back and throwing back her head
in classic figurehead pose. Her awe-inspiring breasts thrust forward,
proudly defying gravity by even curving slightly upward as she bent back.
The caress of the cool night wind felt good on the hot skin of her bosom;
the glands beneath had been working overtime to compensate for Chris's
increased caloric intake -- the midnight buffet she had attended earlier
had been her fifth meal that day -- and were once again filling the myriad
lactiferous sinuses within to capacity with warm, sweet milk. The breeze
finally lowered her skin temperature enough to raise goose pimples and
turn her nipples into twin 3/4" cylinders of solid ruby. She recalled
that she rarely displayed herself out in the open like this, and when she
did it was usually in a controlled environment, like a fenced-in swimming
pool. The knowledge that she was now fully exposed to both the elements
and potentially to any one of the thousand or so people aboard who might
happen to wander up to this particular lookout proved to be very erotic
for her. The three glasses of wine she'd consumed at the buffet were
definitely helping suppress her inhibitions as well. Chris felt a
coolness in her crotch as the breeze penetrated the fabric of her dress
and tried to evaporate the moisture that was beginning to collect there.
The sensations were so novel, and the situation so unique, that
Chris decided to run with them. As the last of her inhibitions melted
away, aided by the wine, she retained just enough conscious sense to turn
to the port side railing so that the wind would not be directly in her
face. Leaning out over the railing with eyes closed, chin lifted
slightly, and tits outthrust, she concentrated on the sound of the ocean
far below striking the bow of the ship -- millions of gallons of water
rushing past in a continuous, mighty surge. She imagined herself surging
with that kind of power, and sure enough seconds later her breasts began
spewing forth torrents of hot milk. The wind caught the needle-thin
streams and blew them to a white mist that quickly dissipated into the
night. As the tingling of the letdown intensified, Chris used her
lacquered fingernails to lightly stroke the long sides of her aching
nipples, stimulating the tiny muscles along her milk ducts to contract
even harder, pushing the streams out with even greater force. Not content
even with this, Chris cupped her incredible boobs and began tugging and
squeezing in an attempt to increase the flow even more. The small
openings in her nipples had reached capacity, however, so her actions only
served to increase the feeling of pressure inside her breasts, which was
sufficient to push her toward orgasm.
She felt her nectar start to run down the inside of her legs, so
she released one breast, gathered as much material from her dress up
around her waist in one hand as she could, and planted her feet wide apart
so she would splash directly onto the deck. She let go of the other
breast, trapped both of them between her forearms, and squeezed them
together to keep the flow of milk going at maximum. The index finger of
her free hand disappeared into the folds of her bald beaver, sought out
her slippery, engorged clit, and began a vigorous circular motion. Chris
held her breath to keep from crying out as she mounted the final hill, and
the subsequent drop in oxygen to her brain took her immediately into an
orgasm of superluminary porportions. Her nipples felt as if they would
pop off from the pressure of the milk rushing through them, and the force
of the flood from her pussy made a loud splat as it struck the deck.
Caught up in unreasoning ecstasy, Chris actually forgot to resume
breathing, and her knees began to buckle. The night seemed to take on a
reddish hue, and as she began to faint, she felt something hard strike her
across the midriff. As consciousness began to flicker out, she realized
that it was the railing -- she was beginning to pitch forward over it!
She gasped for breath and fought to regain control of her body, but it was
too late -- she felt herself in the grip of gravity and in stark white
panic realized she was about to fall overboard!
In that millisecond she felt her head snap back as a second impact
across her middle jerked her violently backward. When awareness returned
she found herself sprawled in a heap several feet back from the railing.
There was hoarse breathing in her ear and a strong arm wrapped tightly
about her at just below the level of her breasts, which now pointed upward
and were still dribbling milk down their smooth slopes to soak into the
sleeve of that arm. She slowly realized that she was not lying on the
deck, but had landed on top of someone.
The breathing in her ear turned into a male voice laced with
concern. "Christine! Are you all right?" it said.
How does he know my name? she thought, still badly shaken. Wait,
I recognize that voice... She looked back over her shoulder, right into
Jonah Ballwin's bluer-than-blue eyes. She tried to speak, but realized
that she was still struggling to regain her breath. Jonah had had to come
from several feet away to keep Chris from going over the railing, so his
collision with her had been a rough one. She nodded yes instead.
Jonah looked toward the railing. "God damn it!" he swore with
feeling. "I've always thought those railings were too low! What were
those stupid designers thinking?!" He was practically trembling with
anger and adrenaline. He forced his eyes closed and took several deep
breaths to calm himself.
Chris reached up and stroked his cheek. "I seriously thought I
was going to die. Thank you." She also looked toward the railing. "I
don't know what I was thinking, getting so close." She felt herself
blushing, the heat in her cheeks more noticable in the cool air. "I guess
I was caught up in the moment."
Is he blushing too? It's so hard to tell in this light. "To be
honest, so was I," she heard him say. "This particular overlook is a
little difficult to get to, so not many passengers come up here. I often
do because the view is so spectacular. Tonight it was particularly so."
His eyes briefly flicked down across Chris's body, which made her realize
how fully exposed she still was. Oddly, however, she felt no immediate
need to disengage from his grip and cover herself. The wine must still be
exerting some influence. Besides, the salt air was definitely becoming
nippy, and he was nice and warm.
She snuggled a little deeper into his chest and straightened one
leg that had gotten caught at a funny angle when they had tumbled to the
deck. Smiling mischievously, she said, "How long had you been standing
there?"
"Long enough," he replied. "Long enough to see that you are the
most incredible woman I have ever met. If I hadn't seen what you just did
with my own eyes, I would never have believed it."
Chris blushed again. "Believe me, I don't do that sort of thing
every day."
"Then I feel doubly fortunate to have been here when I was."
Chris shifted slightly, purposely pressing one warm, firm breast
into Jonah's side. "I wasn't done, you know," she said seductively.
Jonah's eyebrows lifted. "Oh, should I have just let you go over
the side, then?" he inquired.
"Of course not, silly," said Chris. "But you don't notice me
wriggling about trying to get my dress back on, do you?"
"I suppose I was sort of wondering why you weren't."
Chris turned to face Jonah, in the same movement pushing him back
down to the deck. "Right now I owe you a debt, and I'm the kind of person
who likes to pay off her debts promptly," she said as she started
unbuttoning his shirt.
"Excellent policy," Jonah said with a grin. "Might I suggest,
however, that we adjourn to someplace more comfortable than this deck?"
As soon as he mentioned comfort, Chris realized that she had
skinned one of her knees, and in her half-naked state, even through the
false warmth of the wine, she was getting cold. Hiking her dress back
into position, she asked, "I assume you have a particular 'someplace' in
mind?"
Jonah got to his feet and helped Chris to hers. "Indeed I do.
Allow me to show you the Carib Mermaid that most paying customers never
get to see."
<<to be continued>>
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