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Lactogenesis 08
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 and Sherri laughed for a long time over Chris's "get it off
my chest" line. As the laughter began to die down, Chris impulsively
reached out and hugged Sherri to her. She immediately felt the unfamiliar
but pleasant sensation of another woman's body against hers. It was the
first time Chris had had close physical contact with another person since
her body had changed. Sherri had gone up on tip-toe, and Chris became
acutely aware of her breasts pressing against her own. Seventy-eight
combined inches of mammary tissue squashed together, creating a huge soft
cushion any man would have been more than happy to suffocate in. Chris
found herself holding the embrace longer than she thought she would have.
It felt soft and safe in Sherri's
arms.
It was Sherri who broke it off. "Oh, I shouldn't have squeezed so
hard, but I haven't laughed like that in weeks. Did I hurt you?"
"No, don't be silly," Chris replied. "They're full, but it's not
like they're going to pop or anything."
Sherri sat down again abruptly. "Oh, Chris. Tell me what it's like.
Is it uncomfortable? Do you like it? Is it inconvenient for you? Does
it make you feel sexier?" A flood of questions followed, and Chris
answered as best she could, when she could get a word in edgewise. She
decided to be honest, and not hold anything back. She told Sherri about
the incident in Sheila's office, about how much she enjoyed using the
pump, even about how the letdown sensation always enhanced her orgasms and
how she was now able to ejaculate. She found herself going into
painstaking detail. She also discovered that relating these experiences
was proving to be extremely arousing for her. She was reliving her sexual
awakening. The memories of how she had received the new sensations her
body had provided were actually reviving those sensations. She couldn't
help noticing Sherri's reactions, either. As Chris went on, Sherri
occasionally would reach up a hand to absently stroke a breast, or she
would rub her thighs together gently. The look on her face was one which
a man marooned in a desert would have when his eyes beheld a drinking
fountain. Finally, as Chris was describing a particularly intense orgasm
she had had in the shower, when the blasts of water, vaginal juice, and
breast milk had combined just before disappearing down the drain, Sherri
could contain herself no longer.
"Please, show me." She was almost begging. "I must see what it's
like. Show me, please, Chris."
Chris was so turned on by her own narrative that Sherri's request
actually sounded reasonable. Her excitement had cranked up her hormone
levels, and her breasts were in need of relief. Why not, then? Without a
word, Chris stood and walked to the kitchen cupboard, from which she
produced a large drinking glass. She walked back over to the sofa, put
the glass on the coffee table, and began unbuttoning the top of her
bodysuit. She pulled the stretchy fabric down over her shoulders and
allowed it to bunch at her waist, revealing a lacy, sheer, half-cup bra
that seemed to only barely hold its contents. Chris unfastened the front
clasp and the cups swung to the sides like the gates of heaven. She
thought she heard Sherri gasp as her bosom came into full view.
"Oh, Chris, they're beautiful." Sherri suddenly leaned forward to
touch her neighbor's swollen breasts. Gently, almost with a feather
touch, Sherri's hand traced the smooth curves, brushed the extended
nipples with butterfly-wing tenderness. Chris found herself moaning
softly, captivated by the softness of Sherri's touch and how totally
electrifying it was. She felt a hard coolness in one hand and opened her
eyes to find that Sherri had pressed the glass into it. She looked up and
met Sherri's eyes, which wordlessly were pleading Do it, do it.
Chris placed the rim of the glass along the lower margin of her left
areola. With her left hand she pressed in and down, and was immediately
rewarded with a gush of milk. The thin fluid streamed freely, pulsing
anew with each press from Chris's fingers. The glass began filling
quickly. Sherri sat transfixed, her eyes never blinking. Her hands were
busy however; one rubbing a tit while the other was buried between her
legs, fluttering like a wounded bird against the fabric covering her
pussy.
Through the buzzing of pleasure in her head, Chris felt the
now-unequal pressure on her chest, and almost unconsciously switched
breasts. Now her right breast sprayed hard and long into the glass, while
a thin dribble continued from her left breast, dripping onto her thigh.
Chris knew that if she continued, the glass would soon overflow, so she
started the mental exercise that would slow the flow without taking away
the pleasure. As the bluish-white jets from her turgid nipple became slow
droplets, Chris felt Sherri grab the glass away.
Sherri was like a woman obsessed. "I *have* to taste this. I simply
must..." Her words were cut short as she thirstily slurped at the
contents of the glass. Without taking the glass away, she began
murmuring, "Oh, God, it's so sweet and warm. I had no idea how good..."
Her voice sounded strangely hollow as she spoke through the bottom of the
glass. Abruptly she stopped drinking, lowered the glass, and stared at
Chris with a look that practically screamed "please". Somehow, Chris knew
what Sherri wanted, and somehow, she welcomed the idea. Sherri quickly
dropped to her knees next to Chris, leaned forward, and fastened her lips
to Chris's dripping nipple.
Chris inhaled sharply at this new sensation. This was not some
inanimate plastic cup applying a suction like the vacuum of space itself,
this was a live, warm, human being. Her body reacted intensely to the
feel of skin on skin, a feeling it hadn't experienced for months, and
never in this incarnation. Sherri sucked like a starving woman, and
Chris's breast responded in kind. Sherri's breathing became erratic as
she tried to handle a flow so strong that she could barely swallow fast
enough. Her right hand went up to fondle Chris's free breast, and for a
moment Chris lost her mental hold, allowing fresh milk to cascade over
Sherri's kneading fingers and down her arm. Sherri's left hand was firmly
entrenched in her crotch, her fingers a blur as she masturbated right
through her clothing. As she neared orgasm, Sherri's mouth lost its grip
on Chris's nipple. Milk still blasted forth, hitting the back of Sherri's
throat as she opened her mouth wide to scream forth her pleasure. Her
orgasmic yell became a choking cough as the milk went down the wrong pipe,
but Chris was too far into her own orgasm to hear it. She felt the
maxi-pad between her legs swell with the liquid being poured into it, and
the extra pressure that created heightened the sensation even more. Her
body was actually trembling as she reached for a tissue to dab some errant
drops of milk from her pulsing nipples. The maxi-pad had reached its
limit, and a dark spot was forming on her jeans. Sherri's outfit fared
little better.
<<to be continued>>
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