Since my baby, Elara, was born eight months ago, my sex life has taken a sharp turn. My husband, Leo, doesn’t seem very interested, and our rare quickies feel more like a chore than a connection. I’m left feeling low, unwanted, and aching with a frustrating need.
I have worked hard to get my body back in shape. I think I’ve succeeded. The only real difference is my breasts, which are much larger and fuller than ever before. I’m still breastfeeding Elara once a day, and I find myself with a constant, tantalizing surplus of milk. To me, my breasts look absolutely magnificent. They are heavy, firm, and my nipples are enormous—they look perpetually engorged and erect. I find it intensely arousing. They are extra sensitive and sensual, and a simple touch sends a jolt through me. Leo, however, seems put off by them. He groans when my nipples poke through my clothes, calling it “disgusting.” I think it looks undeniably hot and incredibly sexy.
One morning, feeling restless and frustrated, my next-door neighbor, Mark, called on me. He’s a decent guy, and as we chatted, I couldn’t help but notice that his gaze was fixed on my chest. He seemed unable to look away, and I couldn’t really blame him; my nipples were firm and making a defiant statement against my thin T-shirt. I also hadn’t realized that a bit of milk had leaked, leaving two small damp patches. I eventually glanced down, and a hot blush of embarrassment swept over my neck. I mumbled something about having a surplus of milk. He looked at me with a knowing glint in his eye and said, “Lucky baby.”
At that moment, Elara began to cry, and I was grateful for the interruption. I bid Mark a quick goodbye, my mind a storm of confusing emotions. I soon settled Elara, but the feeling of being seen and admired lingered. I felt so… so damn sexy.
I went to my room to change my damp shirt. In the mirror, I unhooked my bra and stared at my reflection. My breasts were full and heavy, and my nipples seemed enormous, sticking out like small, demanding buds. A wave of raw, unfiltered desire washed over me. I reached out and touched one lightly, a shiver of pure pleasure running through my body. I began to massage my breasts, my hands slick with milk that was now freely leaking from my nipples. I pulled and tugged on them, the wet sensation driving me wild. A guttural moan escaped my throat, and I shuddered to a powerful orgasm, my body convulsing with a pleasure so intense it took my breath away.
But I wasn’t finished. I wanted, no, needed more. My hand plunged down my skirt and into my panties. I was astounded by how wet I was, my juices already soaking the fabric. I circled my clit with a finger, while my other hand continued to pull on my lactating nipple. I couldn’t tell where the pleasure was coming from—my cunt and my tits seemed linked by an electric current. A great feeling of exotic pleasure welled up from deep in my core. I couldn’t stop. I pulled harder on my nipples, I circled faster on my clit, until suddenly I erupted. My panties were drenched with my climax as I came a second time. My body moaned and groaned, unable to take any more, yet my cunt pulsed with its own life, bringing me to a third climax. I was leaking from my tits and my pussy, a beautiful, messy portrait of my desires.
Eventually, I calmed down, showered, and expressed what was left of my milk. That night, I tried to talk to Leo about our sex life. He wasn’t really interested and made a stupid remark about me being a “naughty mummy” for thinking such things. His words were a bucket of cold water.
The following day, I felt raw, neglected, and utterly frustrated. After putting Elara down for her afternoon nap, I made a decision. I changed into a thin, tight top and left my bra off. I pulled on a brief thong and a short skirt, admiring my reflection. My breasts looked massive against my slim waist, and my nipples, firm and demanding, were in full view. On a sudden impulse, I phoned Mark.
“Coffee?” I asked innocently.
He was at the door within minutes. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension as I poured us two cups.
“Milk?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“Definitely,” he answered, his eyes fixed on my chest. “Just squeeze some in.”
A hot flush of excitement bloomed on my cheeks. I was breathing heavily, which only made my breasts swell even more.
“You still have plenty of milk?” he said.
“Yes,” I mumbled, my voice a breathy whisper. “Too much.”
The more he looked at me, the more excited I got. My body betrayed me, and milk started to leak from my engorged nipples.
“Can I see?” he asked, his voice low and urgent. “Can I see your milk? Please.”
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted him to look at me, to see me not as a mother, but as a desired woman. My whole body was screaming yes.
“Please,” he said again, taking a step closer.
I took a deep, shaky breath and lifted my tight top. The fabric bunched above my breasts, exposing them to his full view.
“Jee-sus,” he breathed, his eyes wide. “You’re incredible. Such beautiful, full breasts.”
He walked over to me, and his hands reached out, gently cupping my heavy, aching tits. When he touched me, a shot of electricity seemed to short-circuit my body.
“What does it taste like?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and lust.
“Try some,” I whispered.
His lips touched my left nipple, and he gently sucked. A groan escaped me. God, it felt so good. He wanted me. He desired me.
“Lovely,” he muttered, his mouth now tighter on my nipple, trying to devour my whole breast.
“Kneel down,” he ordered. “And I’ll milk you.”
I watched as he pulled my top over my head and undid my skirt, leaving me standing in just my thong.
“Kneel,” he said again.
I didn’t think, I just obeyed. I was kneeling on the floor like a dog… or a cow waiting to be milked. He placed a ceramic bowl under my breasts and started to pull on my nipples with his fingers. My milk started to spray, squirting into the bowl. I was mesmerized, watching him. He kept saying how beautiful I was, and I loved every second of it.
One of his hands moved to my bottom, squeezing me while his other hand kept milking me. He pulled my thong down my thighs, exposing me to him completely. Fingers slipped between my buttocks and found their way to my cunt, slipping inside. He was still pulling on my nipples, one after the other. The pleasure was unbearable, and I tried to squeeze my legs together to hold back the coming orgasm.
He moved to stand behind me, and I knew he was undoing his trousers. I tried to say no, but my body was saying a frantic, desperate yes. I made myself available by spreading my legs. He was at the entrance to my vagina, and before I could even take a breath, he was inside me, right up to the hilt. I screamed out, not in pain, but from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of finally being filled.
His hands returned to my tits, and he started to “milk me” again, his cock still buried deep inside me. As the milk squirted from my nipples and onto my naked body, I couldn’t hold back. I shuddered to an almighty orgasm. As I came, he began to pound into me, his thrusting penis giving me his full length over and over.
“Don’t cum inside me,” I managed to say, even though my body craved to be fucked hard and filled long.
Suddenly he ordered, “On your back! Quickly!”
I turned around as best I could. He was sitting astride my waist, his hand pumping his cock, which looked enormous, the head slick and shining with my juices. His face screwed up in a mask of pure pleasure, and he exploded, his cum mixing with my milk as it covered my breasts. His ejaculations spurted over my nipples, and some even reached my face. Finally, he was done, squeezing the last few drops from his cock.
I lay there breathless and in a state of disbelief at what I had allowed to happen.
He stood up, leaving me on the floor, naked and dripping with semen and milk.
“You’d better go,” I said quietly, and he did.
I struggled to my feet and made my way to the bathroom. I poured warm water into the sink and began to wash my tits, the foam of the soap taking away the remains of our sexual encounter. But the massaging sensation of the water made me sexy all over again. As I wiped away the soap, I could see my nipples were swollen and needed attention. I pulled them hard, looking at the length to which they stretched. I’d never seen them so large and wanting.
I was like a machine now. My hand was soon down to my pussy, pushing inside as far as I could. I wanted to be filled again. I needed to be fucked again. My hand moved faster until I felt my cunt spasm hard as I came, my juices shooting out of me and onto my thighs.
“What is wrong with me?” I pleaded to no one in particular, but I knew the answer. There was nothing wrong with me.
I could hear Elara begin to stir through my intercom. I smiled to myself. “Well, I’ve been a dirty cow, and now it’s back to motherhood.”
I wondered if anything would ever be the same again. I didn’t think it would, and for the first time in a long time, I felt utterly, completely free.
