Unexpected Benefits of Skywalking

I heard the sound of my breathing, jagged.

Then, Melissa pulled her bra cup down.

Her breast seemed even bigger than I'd imagined, rounder and fuller and, well, just big. It had a nice teardrop shape.

My face was about six inches away from it, and I just lay there and breathed and stared. Her areola was surprisingly large; it covered most of the "face" of her breast. I had always liked breasts like that. The nipple itself was big, too; it was kind of thick, and it looked swollen, and its color seemed to be slowly changing from light pink to a near-red. I noticed that her tan line ran right at the edge of her areola.

Melissa's fingers appeared at the base of the nipple and started doing some sort of squeezing massage. I just watched in awe. She massaged and massaged, her nipple wiggling around, and I felt her sigh, and then she massaged some more. I thought about offering to help somehow, but thought better of it.

Just when she seemed to be getting frustrated, a couple of tiny white-ish dots appeared on the blunt end of her nipple. "Oh, here we go," she said.

Up until this point, none of this had seemed real; I guess I didn't truly believe. Now, I suddenly knew: she really, actually had induced milk, and it was there, a few inches away from my face.

Her finger picked up the droplets and wiped them across my lips. I licked, instinctively, tasting her. It was surprisingly sweet! And, well, it tasted pretty good. Really good.

"OK, then," Melissa was whispering. "Put your mouth on me."

I opened a little, starting to move toward her chest.

"No," she said, stopping me, "you have to open wide." She traced the edge of her areola with a finger. "All the way to here," she said.

I noticed, looking closely, that there were tiny bumps on her areola, and that it was developing an oily sheen, almost as if preparing for me. This turned me on even more, and I felt my cock thicken.

"OK," I said, and I opened my mouth wide enough to swallow her areola, lowering my head to her breast.

It all happened in slow motion: my face was getting closer to her, and I could feel the heat from her skin, and Melissa was pushing her chest out toward me, and she was cupping her breast and squeezing it so that it bulbed out a little, and then it started to touch my lips. Then I was fastening my mouth over her areola, and I started trying to nurse from her.

I had sucked nipples before, yes. This felt different. For one thing, we were not having sex; it felt more like we were snuggling. I was settled in next to the soft warmth of her body; I could smell her perfume, the soft scent of her skin, and maybe her deodorant. I could feel her chest as she made purring sounds. Her hand was holding my head, pressing me to her breast; her other hand was still holding the breast to my mouth. It felt very intimate, but not exactly sexual. Certainly it did not feel like I was a baby; it seemed kind of like when Mary and I were fucking and she would have these super-human orgasms again and again, and I would just watch it happening. I was feeling in awe of the female body.

I hadn't had any milk from the nipple yet. I wasn't sure what I was doing wrong, but Melissa could read my mind.

"Now," she whispered to my ear, "you have to start sucking a little more steady. Suck and release, suck and release. In a rhythm, like a pulse."

I did that. I wondered how she knew what to tell me, since she hadn't done this with anyone yet. Blogs? Books? Articles?

"That's good, keep it up," she said. "Keep your lips around my areola, make a good latch. Try to keep a tight seal on me."

She made another purring sound and her hand played with my hair. My chin scratched against the bra cup she'd pulled down from her breast.

"This is so nice, already," she sighed. "It's what I hoped it would be like." I could feel the vibration of her voice in her chest.

I still hadn't had any milk, and now, remembering the tiny taste she'd rubbed across my lips, I wanted to take it from her nipple.

"I'm still a little nervous," she was whispering. "I need to relax so I can let down. Keep sucking like that, keep it steady." The hand holding her breast started massaging it, squeezing in a strong, slow rhythm. It was obvious she had practiced this; it was probably what she'd done to help induce milk in the first place.

I felt her take a deep, long breath and let it out in a slow sigh. I was sucking firmly, and I opened my mouth a little more around her areola. It felt like a good latch, a solid latch. Her breast was firm, and that made it easy for me to suck on her with a little bit of force.

She let out a quiet noise, as though maybe someone had gently poked her (but I hadn't).

I wasn't sure what it meant for a second or two, and then I knew: I tasted a wonderful sweetness which grew until I could feel a small pool of warm liquid gathering inside my mouth.

Melissa sighed, and said, "I let down."

I didn't want to stop sucking, but I grunted an "mmm-hmm!" to let her know that I'd noticed.

When I swallowed, it was a small but audible gulp.

"Oh, Josh," she whispered, her voice sounding emotional. Her finger was caressing my cheek.

I don't know how long, exactly, that I lay there against her, taking milk from her. It could've easily been 20 minutes. It was hard work, suckling, but this was still the most pleasant span of time I could remember. Why would I have had a problem with this? It seemed like the most natural, most sensual and pleasing thing I'd done, well, maybe ever. It seemed like such an obvious thing to do: the girl's body makes milk and she feeds it to the guy. Yes, it might improve his health and whatever, but it was also an intimate way for two people to just be together without the urgency of sex. She made food in her breast and was giving it to me from her nipple. Simple, natural, and good.

Her breast skin felt warm against my cheek; it almost felt hot. We were quiet together for a long time, and I listened carefully to the cadence of her breathing as I nursed. Once in a while I'd notice the chill music she'd put on; I liked the effect it had on me.

She whispered to me: "I don't know if this matters to you, but this really feels nice, even nicer than I'd imagined. Really good."

That made me pop off her breast. There was a trace of milk on her areola; I licked it off. I looked up at her face. "I was hoping it felt good for you."

"It does." She had a beatific smile. "How is it? What's it like?" She sounded like she'd been very curious.

"I— " I faltered, and then I sat up against a couch cushion. I was level with her face now. "I don't know how else to put it," I said. "It's pretty awesome. Tastes delicious."

This time, I was the one who started the kiss. We kissed for maybe a minute.

"I can taste myself on your tongue," she smiled, amused.

I gave her another peck on the lips.

"So, I think I've got a problem," she said. "Look here."

She indicated her other breast, the one still covered by her blouse and bra. The blouse had a dark stain on it over her breast; it had been leaking. "I think this one is feeling left out."

"Oh, well, we can't have that."

Melissa stood and stretched her arms. Then she pulled her blouse completely off and tossed it aside. She reached behind her back and started undoing her bra clasp. "I probably need to get some front-opening bras, or maybe a nursing bra. You know, just in case this ever happens again."

I just nodded.

She pulled her bra off and stood above me, naked from the waist up, thin, busty, and beautiful. "Some of my girlfriends just wear nursing bras all the time—the ones who nurse, I mean," she said. "The bras are dowdy as all hell, but you can fit nursing pads in them pretty easily, and obviously it gives you easy access when you want it."

"I don't know what those things are," I confessed.

"Oh, nursing pads are just, well, they're just pads you put over your nipples in case you leak. I haven't really had a problem—well, except for right now—but I haven't been pumping more than a few ounces total in a day, max. If I was nursing all the time, I dunno, I might start making so much that I'd need some pads."

"What's a nursing bra?" I asked, honestly curious.

"Oh, just a bra with cups that come open," she said. "They have fasteners on the cups and they can just come off, or pull down, or whatever. And there's room to fit pads in there, like I said. I wish they made some that were a little more sexy; maybe they do, I'm not sure, I guess I need to look."

She sat down next to me again, close. She spoke right at my face, her breath like sweet flowers: "Are you ready to start again?"

I pushed her down onto the pillows and climbed next to her so that I could reach her other (right) breast. She turned her chest toward me; her nipple was in my face. The left nipple, the one I'd been at, was huge and long compared to this one. Obviously it was the suckling that had done that.

Melissa purred. "OK," she said. "I'm ready to go."

She took a hand and squeezed her boob out at me; the areola looked huge. I opened my mouth really wide for her and surrounded it, latching on. It felt like my lips and her areola were making this magical, tight wet seal together.

Melissa was squeezing herself in a slow rhythm again, and I started sucking at her. The big, growing bump of her nipple rubbed the roof of my mouth and the back of my tongue. Her other hand was holding my head again, and playing with my hair, pulling me to her chest.

This time it came fast: I could taste it before I could feel it, but it was definitely happening. She had, as she put it, let down into my mouth.

I noticed that she was breathing more heavily this time, and also, I could actually feel the flow of her milk. At the first breast, I could feel it, too, after a while, but at this one, it seemed more obvious, maybe a stronger flow. It tasted good, really good. I realized that the thing that kept me going with such urgency, sucking and sucking for minutes at a time, was—besides the closeness—the pleasant taste of her milk. I could feel it filling my stomach.

She let out an "ohhh," like something was wrong, and I almost let go of my latch to ask if she was okay, but she whispered that she was fine. I wasn't sure what was up, but I kept working at her nipple.

Like Melissa had told me, I sucked and released, sucked and released; I wasn't pulling my lips off the areola, but I let the nipple withdraw from the back of my mouth a bit before I sucked it back again. It was a rhythm. Actually, I realized, in my haze, that I was sucking and releasing roughly with the same rhythm that Melissa was squeezing her breast.

Melissa started shifting. I could hear her taking big breaths, and I could feel and hear her soft moaning.

When she made a sudden, throaty gasp, I popped off the breast and looked at her. "You OK?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, I'm just ... just really getting into this."

I didn't know what to say, and just looked at her for a second.

She gave an embarrassed smile. "I'm kind of sensitive in this, um, this area." She indicated her breasts, as if it wasn't obvious.

"I'm not hurting you?"

She grinned as she shook her head. "God, no," she said. "Not at all. The opposite."

I just sat there and stared at her. Her tits were amazing to look at, plump and full and proud.

She was still smiling. "Are you, you know ... are you still hungry?" Melissa looked down at her right breast and gave it a small squeeze. "I don't feel empty, yet," she said, matter-of-factly. Looking up at me: "Look, this may not be the time to ask, but do you think you'd ever want to do this again?"

I felt a surge of emotion, but I tried to suppress it. "Yeah," I said, "I think I can see us doing this sometimes."

She smiled at me as if she knew: it was going to be more than just sometimes.

I settled into her chest as she lay back, and we started cuddling. I sucked her areola into my mouth and latched on. She sighed and started to squeeze and pump her big breast again, and in a few seconds, I had her delicious sweetness in my mouth.

She was talking to me: "I've tasted it—obviously, I had to try it, right?—but you've had so much of it. I really hope you like how I taste and stuff."

I released my latch for a second. "I really like it," I breathed at her nipple. "It's—I mean, you are—delicious. I can't describe exactly why it tastes so good, but it just does."

She stifled an "awww," leaned down, and kissed my lips. Then she held her breast to my mouth and I started feeding from her again.

We settled into a nice, easy rhythm. With firm suction, I was pulling her nipple toward the back of my mouth, along with a lot of her breast. I would feel the soft flow of Melissa's milk from her nipple; sometimes I could sort of sense a tiny spray, but mostly I just felt warm, sweet liquid softly gathering at the back of my tongue. Then I'd release the suction, and her nipple and breast would slide toward the front of my mouth. If I'd collected enough milk, I'd swallow at this point. Then, I'd suck her back in again.

Sometimes, when Melissa sensed me swallowing, she'd purr and stroke the back of my head.

Our snuggle became comfortable and settled. I was feeling a little bit sleepy, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe because my stomach was starting to fill with Melissa's warm milk. I was aware that my jaw felt slightly sore from making the same motion over and over, but it didn't really hurt, and I didn't care anyway. It was so pleasant just to be there at her breast, and to be pressed up against the warmth of her soft skin. Minutes passed and I barely noticed.

She was talking to me in a low voice, speaking to my ear: "So, I'm giving you mature milk," she was saying. "If you induce you don't get colostrum or transitional milk, so it's pretty much straight to the good stuff."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I liked the sound of her voice.

She shifted slightly, and stroked the back of my neck with her fingers. "My first drops were really watery and really almost too sweet, but I think what I'm giving now definitely has a flavor."

I hummed in agreement: "Mmm-hmm."

I could hear the smile in her voice: "I'm so glad you like it; I can't tell you how that makes me feel."

She was quiet for a minute or two.

When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, almost a whisper, soft and scratchy and sexy. "You're probably just about through my foremilk now. My hindmilk should start coming in pretty soon. It's a lot more creamy; I don't think it's as sweet. I actually like it better, though." She gave a soft, crackly hum, and caressed the back of my head.

I can't say for sure which kind I was tasting; the milk I was taking now did seem a little creamier, but I thought it was just about as sweet as ever. I didn't really care; I liked everything I'd tasted, whether it was her "foremilk" or "hindmilk" or whatever. All of it was pretty damned good.

Melissa was quiet again for a while. My arms, which had just sort of been laying at Melissa's sides, slid around her back, and I pulled her even closer to me. Her chest, her big breast itself, was almost smothering me, but I didn't really care.

After a few moments, she said, "God, my boobs feel better now. They were starting to get pretty swollen. You know, it's like what walking around with a hard-on or blue balls must be like. It doesn't really hurt, but it's kind of uncomfortable, and you just want some kind of release. It's like having an itch you can't scratch. I've been feeling like this all day. I didn't have time to pump this morning, that's probably why. I'm making like a couple ounces a day now, in each one. That's so much more than I expected."

I could feel the warmth of her breath on my ear and neck as she sighed.

"It's nice to be giving milk without pumping, or using my hands." I could hear a tinge of thrill in her voice as she said, "A lot nicer. You know. Actually feeding someone."

I could feel her breathing getting a little faster.

"I can feel my milk coming out of my nipple, and just knowing it's going into someone's mouth, you know, that I'm really feeding you from my body; it's so exciting."

She paused, and then: "Sorry, I've just been thinking about this for a long time. I guess it's kind of a big deal to me."

I released the suction but didn't pull off of her breast. "I like it," I said into her nipple.

She didn't say anything, but as I resumed my nursing, she stroked the stubble on my cheeks.

—

It must have been 8:00 or even 9:00 PM at this point; I wasn't even sure.

Melissa said, "Josh?"

I released her breast and sat up; she sat up too. For some reason, I was afraid she was about to tell me to go home, that I'd worn out my welcome.

She sat looking at me, her pretty face with a sweet smile, her hair sort of messed up, ringlets and curls hanging over her flushed cheeks. Her bare chest had patches of redness, too. Her breasts stood out, nipples large, knotty, red, and wet. She was absolutely beautiful at that moment.

Right then I realized, again, what an idiot I'd been. Here was this pretty, smart girl, and she'd been right here this whole time—she was my friend—and I just hadn't gotten it. I understood it now: what a fuckwit I had been. She was wonderful.

Also: why hadn't I ever really noticed her body before? I'd looked but I'd never really seen.

"I—" I faltered and stopped.

"What?" she said, looking suddenly concerned.

"Oh, I ... I'll tell you later."

"No, tell me now," she said.

A pause. "I just can't believe that, you know, that I never tried, with you—"

She held up a hand to stop me. "It's OK," she said. She smiled. And everything really was OK.

"I just think maybe I wasn't ready—"

"You weren't." She shrugged. "I knew it. I waited. It's OK, so shut up." She meant it kindly, but she meant it.

There was a pause. "So," Melissa said. "Listen, is there any way that you might want to, um, maybe go in the bedroom with me?"

I didn't bother answering. I stood, scooped her up like a baby, and started toward the door.

She giggled. "That's the laundry room," she told me.

"Oh. Well, big apartment."

"Big apartment," she said. She pointed to the right. "It's this way."

I carried her in and set her gently down on her bed. The lights weren't on, but between the glow of her clock and her computer, I could see her pretty well.

She pulled me down on top of her, and we lay there and kissed for a minute. Then, she made a frustrated grunt and started trying to pull my clothes off. She was working on my jeans, and I pulled my shirt off, and used my toes to get my socks off. Melissa pulled my underwear down, and my cock sprang up, long and thick.

"Oooo!" she cooed, and she leaned down quickly and put her lips around the head. Her mouth felt soft and cool-wet, and I about came right then and there. While she sucked and tongued me playfully, I diverted my attention by trying to get her more naked.

I was unfastening her slacks and pulling them down; when I managed to get them down to her ankles, she stopped kissing my penis and shucked them off. I pushed her onto her back and pulled her panties—soaking wet at the crotch—down and away.

Her pubic hair, dark brown, was shaved and trimmed into a large square patch on top; small trails of hair lightly framed her vulva, too. Both sets of lips were big and quite thick, and she was completely wet; the perfume of her vagina filled the air. I stared for a second.

Melissa sounded impatient: "Get on top of me and fuck me. I've wanted you inside me for months. So get inside me." I remember thinking: what, she doesn't want foreplay? Then I remembered what we'd just been doing. Um, duh.

She was tugging at me, pulling me on top of her. Her legs spread around me, her arms splayed, her hair framing her head like a halo. Her naked body was beautiful, soft, dramatically curved, sensual. I kissed her lips, and our tongues met again for a moment, but then she was telling me, again, to get inside her. So I did.