I’ve been playing around lately with writing different types of erotica as I seek out new publishers with different submission requirements. This particular short definitely depicts a more emotional tone as well as a heaping dose of lactation fetish. It’s definitely not for everyone. However, it has developed characters and a solid plot which, for me, is always the basis of a good read. Enjoy! ~B.
Michael and Corinne hadn’t been seeing eye-to-eye of late, which was why Corinne proposed a Sunday afternoon hike through the forest. She hoped that nature would help her and Michael find the natural way of things between them again.
Michael, on the other hand, hadn’t been convinced it was a good idea. He was tired and stressed out at work and at home. Still, she managed to talk him into dropping the twins at his mom’s, and they set out on an uncharted course through the woods.
They hadn’t been walking long when they came upon two lovely young women who were having a very passionate picnic, naked and unguarded in a sunny glade that ordinarily would have hidden them from view. Being as both she and Michael had once had a penchant for voyeurism, they stayed and watched, not daring to make a sound as the two young women devoured each other.
Corinne’s breasts soon began to leak as the Sapphic interlude intensified, and before long, soppy wet patches began to spread across her chest, soaking her tank top and leaving wet fabric over each milk-engorged tit. She indicated to Michael that she needed his help. But, he ignored her, his attention completely taken by the lustful tableau unfolding before them.
“Can you help me out here?” Corinne dared to whisper, lifting her soaked tank to save it as well as revealing her large, milky nipples even as the sweetened liquid continued to spurt and drip down her large areolas and her abdomen.
This had been the way of things for months now. She’d become invisible — reduced to the status of milk-dispenser, nursemaid, housekeeper, and cook. Every since the birth of their babies, they had not been able to connect emotionally, mentally, or physically. Her breasts, which he once loved, were no longer theirs. He avoided them now, as if they were cursed.
Standing there, watching the couple engage in such an intimate act, Corinne felt bereft of him and isolated. Even though they lived in the same house and shared the same bed. Something else always seemed to intervene whenever she tried to make time for them.
This walk in the woods was supposed to be a moment away from their hectic lives. She had wanted to reconnect with Michael through their love of nature, but even in the middle of a dense forest, they had been interrupted by something more pressing.
Not even bothering to look her way, Michael silenced Corinne with a finger to his lips and bade her wait. And so she did, soon imagining that she was one of the pleasure-bound women whose breasts were being worshipped, sucked, and fondled. Corinne’s core heated and pulsed with each moment that past. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in months. Her breasts grew hard and tight as they leaked, craving release, while at her feet the ground bore the beginning of milky puddles.
Michael didn’t seem to want to miss a moment of the unexpected treat they had stumbled upon. He was transfixed by the women who had began to fuck each other, the slick sounds of one wet slit rubbing against the other mingled with the lovers’ sighs and heavy breathing. No one was more surprised than Corinne when his hand moved down her wet abdomen, past the soaked waistband of her shorts to nestle his long fingers in Corinne’s milk and lust-moistened pussy.
Corinne couldn’t help feeling as if his fingers made everything worse — and by worse she meant better than anything she could have imagined. Except now, on top of making a doubly wet mess of herself, she could not make a sound—even though Michael was rubbing her clit in the slow, tight circular motions that used to reduce her to orgasmic wails before the arrival of the twins had all but stopped their lovemaking.
This feels fucking amazing, she thought as she did her best to remain quiet while the lovers tribbed each other to orgasm in the glade. Michael’s fingers continued to play ‘Ring Around the Roses’ between Corinne’s legs, causing her to bite her lower lip as milk continued to spray everywhere.
When the sated women had finished their lovemaking, they were quick to pick up their belongings and walk off hand-in-hand. The part of Corinne that hadn’t completely surrendered to Michael’s fingers knew they would have to leave shortly as well. They were expected back at Michael’s parents’ house soon, having spent what felt like hours watching the two women enjoy each other’s bodies. In that moment, she resented the carefree lovers and the pacifier that Michael’s impromptu hand job had become. Already the moment of bliss was fading away.
As if sensing that he was losing her to reality, Michael turned to Corinne. The sense of urgency in his eyes as he noticed her leaking breasts and erect nipples shocked her, as did the manner in which he latched onto one nipple, and then the other. Overwhelmed by the pleasure of his gentle lips bringing down her milk in earnest, and his hand rubbing her clit, she was overcome by the sensations. She cried out in pleasure as he proceeded to empty her of her milk and finger-fuck her up against the tree.
Reclaimed by the passion of the moment, it was Corinne’s turn to reach down as she began to rub his erect cock through his pants. She swore she felt it grow harder as he drained her, as if her milk fueled his arousal. Finally, needing to feel his hardening flesh within her hands, she undid his pants and began pumping his cock as would an earnest milkmaid.
In the woods, against that nondescript tree, they fucked and sucked and pumped each other, no longer mindful of problems or babies or the fact that they weren’t alone. The sounds they made were primal and animalistic as their bodies and souls sought a long overdue release. Soon, they were one with nature and each other, somehow managing to stumble upon the very thing Corinne had hoped they would find—an inroad.
Now the matinee show for the women who’d been their opening act, it was of no significance that they had an audience. Even had they realized, nothing could have averted the direction their afternoon hike had taken them. Their uncharted course had let them to each other, and that was all that mattered. ■
Beatrix_B | The Pink Seam © 2018