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Lactogenesis 07
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.
Christine quickly replaced the ice cream in the freezer, and hurried
to the door. As she peered through the peephole, she felt a pang of
embarrassment. Standing in the hallway was her neighbor Sherri, who had
taken care of Chris's apartment while she was in the hospital. Chris's
embarrassment stemmed from the fact that in the weeks since she'd been
home, she had not once visited Sherri to thank her for the work she had
done to keep the place up and for generally being the kind of neighbor
most people wished they had. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a
proper apology. It was several seconds before she realized she hadn't
opened the door yet.
As the door swung open, Sherri held up a set of keys, which she
jingled. "Just returning these," she said. "Sorry I've taken so long to
get them back to you."
"Oh, Sherri, it's me who should apologize. Please, come in."
Chris stood aside to admit her neighbor, stammering out poorly chosen
words of apology as she did so. "I'm really sorry I haven't been by to
see you. I've been meaning to thank you for helping out while I was hurt.
The place really looked great, and I appreciate..."
Sherri simply waved one hand. "Listen, glad to do it. If I were
laid up like you were, with no family around to help out, I know I'd want
to have somebody keeping an eye on my place while I was gone. I just
wanted to drop by to see how you were doing. You look...er...you
look...uh, great." Chris suddenly realized that Sherri's gaze was riveted
on her breasts. Chris had chosen a body suit and jeans that morning; the
skin-tight outfit accentuated her outrageous figure more than usual. Of
course, Chris thought, she hasn't seen me for a while. God, I'll bet I
really look different to her. Sherri, at 5'2", was a full five inches
shorter than Chris, which made her staring at Chris's bosom all the more
comical, like someone who had been hypnotized. Chris felt the awkwardness
level in the room growing, so she decided to use a little levity. She
passed one hand rapidly in front of Sherri's face, playfully shouting,
"Hello? Hello?" Her breasts jiggled slightly as she did so.
Sherri shook her head slightly, tossing a mane of thick,
reddish-orange hair. She blinked a pair of huge, gray-green, long-lashed
eyes and then immediately covered them with her hand. "Jesus, I'm sorry,"
she said softly. "I can't believe I did that. It's just that you're
so...so *different*..."
"Hey, no problem. Look, I had to do *something* to compete with you.
I couldn't let you get *all* the stares." They both laughed, and the
tension in the room was broken. Chris hadn't exaggerated. Although
Sherri was pushing 40, there was nothing in her smooth, lightly freckled
face to betray her age. Her slight frame had thickened slightly over the
years, but she still had a drop-dead hourglass shape and a chest that
turned heads. In fact, Chris had had to borrow some tops from Sherri
while she had retooled her wardrobe to her new dimensions. They had fit
quite well. As she motioned for Sherri to be seated, Chris could see the
questions in Sherri's eyes, and decided to save her further embarrassment
by beating her to the punch.
"Little fringe benefit from the accident," she said simply. "They
tell me my pituitary gland got kicked into overdrive. I had no idea that
little thing could cause all this. If I'd've known this would happen,
I'd've jumped in front of a bus years ago."
"Well, from the looks of things, maybe you'd better give me that
guy's license number." More laughter. "Seriously, I can't get over
what's happened to you. You look, well, fantastic! I gather you didn't
have to take in any of the clothes I lent you. Even looks like you might
have me by an inch or two. Who'd've thought I'd have the *second* biggest
set in the building?" It was true. Until now, there had never been a
problem getting Sherri's underwear mixed up with anyone else's in the
laundry room. Anything with a tag that said "38D" had to be Sherri's.
Chris smiled. She had always admired Sherri's slightly earthy,
no-bullshit personality. Sherri was clearly envious of Chris's new
bustline, and was making no bones about it.
"Speaking of clothes, before I forget, I want to give you those back,"
Chris said, as she rose and quickly strode toward her bedroom closet. She
quickly returned with a small handful of hangers from which hung several
blouses. "I meant to get them to you earlier, but I had to send a couple
out to get some milk stains removed. They did a good job; you can't even
tell..." She stopped herself. She hadn't meant to say "milk". The
stains had happened before Chris had gotten conscious control over her
ability to lactate. She'd gotten so used to having milk that she hadn't
thought about how other people would react. Had she said too much
already?
"That's OK. I thought you didn't like to drink..." Sherri stopped in
mid-sentence. Her pale features became even paler and her big eyes
widened to almost cartoon-character size. "You don't mean...you don't
mean those actually *work*?" The way Sherri put that, Chris couldn't help
herself. A quick, nervous spasm of laughter escaped her lips.
She recovered quickly. "Yeah. They sure do. Pretty wild, huh?"
Sherri was glancing around the floor, trying to find a place to fix
her gaze. Her eyes were still wide as she said, "Well, that explains
those funny rhythmical noises I've been hearing from in here. You're
using a pump, aren't you?"
Chris cursed inwardly. The walls in this building are thinner than I
thought, she said to herself. Maybe I'll have to do that in the kitchen
from now on. She looked up at Sherri, trying to think of something witty
to say. Suddenly she noticed how Sherri's demeanor had changed. Her
hands were clasping and unclasping in her lap; she seemed to be fidgeting;
her eyes were darting everywhere; and she actually looked a little
flushed. It didn't quite look like embarrassment -- it looked like...My
God, Chris thought. She looks like she's *excited*! I'd best tread
softly here...
"Are you all right? Should we change the subject?"
"Oh, no! No!" Sherri burst out. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said
anything. It's just that..." She glanced down, afraid to meet Chris's
eyes. "It's just that, I've always wanted to be able to do that. It's
been a long-standing fantasy of mine. I've always been proud of these
boobs of mine, and men have always appreciated them. I've just been
wanting to give them, and myself, more..." She looked up. "Oh, boy, I've
said too much. I'd better go..." She stood up quickly.
"No, wait. Sit down, hon," Chris said soothingly. "I'm not
offended. Frankly, I'm intrigued, and flattered that you'd want to
confide in me like that. You know, I haven't really talked to anybody
about this except my doctor, and she's so *clinical* about it. Stay.
Let's talk. I'd like to get this off my chest."
She realized the double entendre just as Sherri did. The two friends
stared at each other for a few shocked moments, then dissolved in helpless
laughter. Chris knew in that moment she had found a confidante, someone
she could tell anything to.
<<to be continued>>
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