How long had it been since Ida had blown Roger? Weeks certainly. Months? Over a year?
Even through the glass door Ida could hear Roger’s moan. She wondered if that was all that took to make him cum now: a minute of sucking from a pretty young thing.
It turned out it wasn’t.
Roger pulled Betty to her feet. His cock was still hard and sticking straight out. He hadn’t cum. The two of them retreated into what had to be the bedroom, disappearing from view.
Ida stopped recording. It was enough.
Oddly, it took less time to drive from Betty’s apartment to Thomas’s place than it normally took her to drive from her home to Thomas’s. He wasn’t exactly surprised to find her knocking at his door, but it wasn’t at their usual meeting time.
“What are you doing here now?”
Ida just shook her head and stepped inside while unbuttoning her shirt. “Doesn’t matter. I just need you to suck me. My tits are full.”
That was all the reason Thomas needed. Seconds later they were on the couch and he was eagerly sucking the milk from her tits.
Just the sensation of having milk drawn from her breasts was enough to calm and settle her. The stress of watching her husband cheating on her was more disturbing than she wanted to admit. It was also more erotic than she wanted to admit. By the time she had arrived at Thomas’s place, not only were her panties damp, but her bra was as well. If anyone had asked, she would have said it was because she was turned on at the thought of getting fucked and sucked by her boyfriend. Not that anyone would have asked. Not that she would have admitted to having a boyfriend in addition to having a husband.
A boyfriend who indulged in her lactation kink.
Or maybe she was indulging his lactation kink.
Maybe she had a cheating kink.
Maybe Thomas had a cheating kink.
Hell, maybe Roger had a cheating kink.
Fuck, maybe all of humanity had a cheating kink. Wasn’t cheating the basis of half the love stories in the world?
Pushing those thoughts from her head Ida got down to the business at hand. She made sure that Thomas got all the milk she could offer while also getting her and his clothes off. As always, she was amazed that his cock was hard the moment his pants came off. Was he that eager to fuck her? Or was he that into a lactating woman that just a taste of her sweet milk was enough to get him hard?
Did it matter?
He sucked on her tits, drinking her milk and turning her on in the process. She inserted his cock into her pussy and rode it to great pleasure. If she had managed to hold off on actually fucking him long enough, he would have made her cum from sucking on her tits alone. She wanted that, but it was too easy to give in and just fuck Thomas.
She was giving in to doing the easy thing lately.
Back at home, everything was almost normal. Almost.
Kids.
Chores.
Dinner.
Boring conversation.
More chores.
Kids to bed.
Boring television.
To bed.
“How are your breasts?” Roger asked after he turned the light off.
It was the first real question he had asked her in…in how long?
“Fine,” she answered carefully. Secretly she felt herself under the sheets. Her breasts were deflated, not flat, but Thomas had emptied every drop from her that afternoon.
“Do they still hurt from Justine not nursing?”
Ida shifted uncomfortably. “A little.” They didn’t hurt at all. They felt fantastic because Thomas and her had played earlier. She would have said yes if Roger had wanted to suck on them, but he would never have asked for that. He hated her breast milk.
“When do you…when do you think you’ll be ready for…ready for sex?”
She couldn’t believe his question. She was ready for sex right then and there. Even after being fucked and satisfied by Thomas earlier, she would have fucked her husband.
Maybe it was a little residual lust.
Maybe it was guilt.
Maybe it was her hidden slutty nature.
Maybe she wanted to cheat on Thomas with Roger.
Would it be cheating to have sex with her husband instead of her boyfriend?
“We can have sex right now if you want,” she offered.
“Right now?” he said doubtfully.
“Sure why not?” Justine had nursed earlier in the evening but to what effect she wasn’t sure. Justine was probably just doing it out of habit more than anything else. Sometimes it seemed all her milk was going to the pump and to Thomas, not to her youngest child.
“You’re still lactating.”
“A tiny bit. So what?”
“You can’t have sex while you’re lactating.”
She shook her head vigorously, letting him feel the motion in the darkness of their room. “Yes, I most certainly can have sex while I’m lactating.” She grabbed his hand and dragged it down between her legs. Her pussy was hot. It wasn’t soaking wet, but he could easily feel the moisture there. She would never had admitted it, but she was mostly wet from the after effects of fucking Thomas and the idea that she was cheating on her boyfriend. Cheating with her husband. “Do you wanna fuck?”
“Do you?” he asked sliding his finger along her slit. She could feel herself opening up to him.
Ida was wearing only a nightshirt that came down to the tops of her thighs. It would have been easy to pull it off, having him climb on top of her, and fuck her. Is that what she wanted? A lousy fuck in bed after they had both been with their lovers earlier in the day.
“Yes.”
He paused in manipulating her pussy. She took the initiative and reached down in the bed, searching for his cock. As always Roger was wearing pajamas to bed because he was that predictable and boring. She didn’t shove her hand into his pants, but she felt his hardness. That surprised her.
When he didn’t pull away, she was emboldened enough to push her hand down into his pants. It had been…too long since she had actually touched his cock. It felt both comfortable and familiar.
Just as Roger made to move on top of her, she quickly scrambled and flung her leg over his body, straddling him. They weren’t so boring a couple that they always had sex in missionary position, but it was their default. It was rare that she had been on top with Roger, but it was the default position she used with Thomas because…because she liked him to suck on her tits while they fucked. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that.
Roger, however, was surprised to find his wife atop him. Together they got his pants down to mid-thigh, which was good enough. Her nightshirt was already around her waist. He had one hand on his cock and her fingers were on top of his, guiding him into her pussy.
“It’s been a while,” she said as she inserted the head of his cock. She was curious as to how he had enough energy to fuck her after fucking Betty just hours earlier.
“Sure has,” he grunted as he slipped deeper into her. His hands went to her hips, but no higher. He didn’t want to risk sullying his hands with her milk.
She noticed his hesitation and that made her nipples contact and ache. Always with Thomas her breasts were showered with attention and her body was confused now. The confusion faded as she started rolling her hips and riding Roger’s cock. Maybe it was a new move for her, but Roger wasn’t complaining or questioning. Maybe he thought he was still fucking his girlfriend.
As she kept moving, feeling her husband’s cock inside her, there was the undeniable sensation that her breasts were too full—even though they weren’t—and that she risked her breasts leaking and dripping all over his body.
There was no way of telling why, but maybe it was because it was because they hadn’t been intimate in months, or maybe because of Ida’s new preference in being on top, or maybe it was everything.
Roger came. His hot cum seemed to fill her and the stiffness and throbbing of his cock was enough to sustain her long enough to have her own litt
le earthquake deep in her pussy that spread out quickly through her body.
Ida couldn’t allow herself to collapse on top of him. She slumped off to the side. “That was fantastic,” she exclaimed. The sex had been good, but not fantastic. She was lying for his benefit. That’s what she told herself.
“It…it was,” he agreed.
She was glad to be on her back, still wearing her nightshirt, in the dark room. Her tits had started leaking and there were undoubtedly wet spots on the material. Roger didn’t want to see—wouldn’t want to see—that.
“Are we…are we back to normal?” he asked her.
“Jesus…what does that even mean?” she asked. Her answer was a little too blunt, a little too honest.
“I mean…are you done…almost done, at least…with breast feeding Justine? Are you done lactating?”
Ida sat up and swung her feet onto the floor, her back to Roger. She could feel his cum leaking out of her and her tits were definitely leaking as well. “Not yet,” she said. “But obviously I can have sex while lactating. Jesus. Does it turn you off that much?”
He didn’t answer her question. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
She wanted to point out that by fucking another woman he had hurt her, but then again, she was fucking another man so taking the moral high ground was not the best tactic. “You’re not going to hurt me,” she said. “I’m tough. I can take it. I know it’s hard with the kids and all, but us not having sex…that’s probably tougher than you having to deal with a little spilt milk.” She laughed at her intentionally stupid reference to her tits.
“I’m sorry…it’s just not my thing,” he said. “I know it’s natural and all that, but…but some of us have hang-ups, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” It wasn’t the best time to give Roger the facts that her lover got off on her lactation abilities. “Can we…can we at least try to work through this?”
“Yes,” he said with an eagerness that surprised her. “I mean…Justine won’t be nursing forever. And you said she’s starting to wean. How much longer can she actually nurse and keep you lactating?”
It was most definitely the wrong time to point out to her husband that her breasts were mostly making milk now to supply her lover, not her child. “Not long,” she said as she stood up. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Ida sat on the toilet and cleaned up, tossing her nightshirt in the hamper with the plan to put on a new one on the way back to bed. She thought about her problems.
Her children…but they weren’t a problem, they were just a difficulty.
Her boyfriend…but he was the one who gave her sexual fulfillment.
Her husband…but she actually did love Roger because he provided for them and seemed to love his children.
Her life…but that was too much and too vague.
Her husband’s girlfriend…that was the real problem…and Ida didn’t know how to deal with that problem.
Chapter Eleven
It was most assuredly strange to get back in bed with Thomas. Two days earlier she was fine to have sex with Thomas. Now, after resuming her sexual relationship with Roger it most assuredly felt like cheating and not the good sort of cheating. It felt dirty…and at the same time she liked the dirty feeling.
But she loved his lips on her tits.
She loved his cock in her hand.
She especially loved his cock in her pussy while she rode him.
She loved that she could be herself and not worry about judgment from her lover.
“This can’t last,” she told him after they were done.
“Well…nothing lasts forever,” Thomas said trying to feel her out on what she was driving at. He hadn’t expected their affair to become the defining romance of his life, but he wasn’t ready for it to stop just yet. He was addicted to her milk; that he would readily admit to himself if not her.
“We had sex yesterday,” she told him.
“Oh.”
She could tell she had upset Thomas. “That doesn’t mean I want to stop having sex with you.”
“Oh?” He perked up.
“He hates that I’m lactating still.”
“Are you…are you going to stop for him?”
“No.” Her answer was quick and firm. “I like it too much. I’m going to need to keep you around for a while to take care of that for me,” she told him.
“So you…you want to…to continue this,” he stammered out vaguely.
Knowing what she was committing to, Ida nodded firmly. “Yes.”
“Then what was…what was the point of me getting all that information on Betty?”
“My husband’s girlfriend?” she asked sharply. “Don’t you worry about that.”
Ida was mildly surprised that she got a response from Betty’s Best Snide email with an extensive quote on rates for what type of artwork and she was so bold as to include a sliding scale that the more explicit the artwork was, the more expensive the rate. That annoyed Ida, but it didn’t stop her from pressing forward with her plan.
How much would it cost for me to get a charcoal drawing, a classy one, of me straddling my boyfriend’s naked body while I spray my breast milk all over him. I can provide reference photos but it needs to be classy.
The email got right to the point, Ida made sure of that. She wanted to see what the other woman’s response would be. However, at the same time, she wasn’t sure if she’d actually go through with it.
“They’re not drying up,” Ida reported to Roger that evening. She stood in front of him, topless, displaying her naked breasts without a care in the world. There wasn’t any reason for her to be concerned. She had told Thomas to go easy with his sucking and he hadn’t left a mark on her, but then again her nipples had toughened up over the past few weeks.
Her breasts were much bigger than they had been when she first started dating Roger. Yes, she had put on some weight—but so had he—and she had gone through two pregnancies but none of that explained all of her breast growth. Most of it now was her—and Thomas’s—continued interest in maintaining her lactation. She didn’t have a way of hiding her wet tits from Roger, not if she wanted to continue to nurse Thomas.
She desperately wanted to continue to nurse Thomas.
“How many days should it take?” he asked. Roger had a very analytical mind and he would always address a problem head-on, even if it was a matter of biology and not chemistry or engineering.
“If Justine wasn’t nursing at all?” she asked, trying to give herself some breathing room. “Probably a week or so.”
“Well then it hasn’t been enough time.” His brow furrowed and he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Wait. Has she been nursing?”
“Some,” Ida admitted. Justine had been nursing, mostly as a comfort action to settle down for a nap, but the vast majority of the milk Ida was producing was going to Thomas.
Roger couldn’t know about that. Not yet.
“You should just stop,” he decided. “It’s really time to wean her.”
“You don’t have to deal with the pain,” she snapped at him and pulled her bathrobe around her body, hiding her tits from her husband’s view.
“Take some Tylenol?” he suggested. “I’m sure there are other painkillers that would work as well.”
“That’s not the solution,” she said all the while knowing it was part of the solution.
“Well, we’ll just have to be patient,” he said. “We knew that it would take a little while for this to work out.” He paused and considered his next question. “You haven’t been using the breast pump, have you?”
Ida’s anger was muted, but it was easy to answer this question because she could just speak the truth. “No. Even though they fucking hurt, I haven’t been using the breast pump.”
“Maybe we should just get rid of it so you aren’t tempted. Garbage day is tomorrow—”
“No!” she insisted a little too vehemently. “That thing was fucking expensive,” she quickly explaine
d. “You just don’t throw it away. Let me donate or sell it.”
“Are we that desperate for cash?” he asked. “I thought I was making good money.”
“It not about money. Some women need a good pump and can’t afford one. That’s why you donate or sell them cheap.”
The fiery expression on her face told Roger it was time to back down. “Okay. Makes sense.” He tried steering the conversation back to the original direction. “So what can you do to lessen the pain?”
“Hot compresses and massage, but not too much massage because that will have the same effect as nursing.”
“Okay, we can do that.”
“Why are you so suddenly interested in this?” she asked as she ran the hot water in their bathroom sink and found a couple of washcloths in the drawer.
“Because…okay, I’ll admit it. Going without sex with you for so long was…trying. Maybe I’m hung up on the breast milk thing, but…but that’s me. When we did it Tuesday night…it made me realize I want to get our lives back on track.”
She noted how he inserted the little phrase “with you” when talking about sex. He hadn’t been going without sex; he had been going without sex with her. Betty had been more than happy to open up her legs for Roger.
Nodding to show she understood, Ida grabbed the steaming washcloths out of the sink, rung out some of the water, and applied them to her boobs. It actually felt good. Roger was watching her closely. “Do you like them bigger?” she asked as she held the hot pads to her breasts and lay down on the bed.
“What do you mean?” he asked innocently, but she could tell it was an act.
“Big boobs or tiny tits, which do you prefer in a woman?” She wasn’t exactly being vulgar, but he understood what she was implying.
He hemmed and hawed for a few seconds before managed a sad aphorism. “I mean…every woman in beautiful in her own way.”
Ida snorted. “Ha! Bullshit! Mine were small, now they’re big. If I died tomorrow, would your next wife be a raisin smuggler or would she be showing off the Grand Tetons?”
The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6 Page 80
