The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6

by Elliot Silvestri

  “Didn’t…didn’t Jonas just do that for you?” Ben asked, confused.

  “Yes, but…but not enough.” Petranella didn’t know if that was the truth or not, but it felt like it was the truth. Thinking back, she realized that Jonas has nursed plenty from her, but her body had made more milk to replace what he had removed. It was a vicious cycle. No, she thought again. It wasn’t a vicious cycle, it was a beautiful and natural cycle and one she wanted to be part of. “Keep going,” she urged him. “I need you to drink it.”

  He wanted to resist the urge, but the compulsion to suckle from her was too strong. He bent his head back toward her breast, pulled the nipple into his mouth, and started drinking once again. Her milk was perfect, delicious. It was all he wanted, but at the same time, his cock started getting hard—uncomfortably hard—inside his pants. If he kept sucking on his wife’s tits, he knew he’d have to fuck her. Not that that was a bad thing, but it seemed like a lot of effort when all he wanted was to taste and drink Petranella’s milk.

  “Oh fuck that feels good,” she breathed, clutching him closely. “Keep going. Make me cum.” It would have made more sense for her to say if he had been fucking her, but lately Petranella had been completely focused on her tits, and Ben was willing to go along with that.

  It was crazy.

  She started breathing rapidly in that ragged fashion that told him she was getting close to orgasm. As she did so, she struggled with her pants, trying to get out of the, push them off. She barely managed to open them up to get a hand inside to massage her pussy. Ben helped her, pulling the pants down all the way off her hips, but leaving them at mid-thigh. He pushed her hand aside and replaced it with his own, fingering her wet pussy.

  He realized two things. First, she was extremely wet, which made sense because she wanted to be fucked and she had recently been fucked by Jonas. Presumably some of his cum was still inside her. He also realized that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Had she left them behind by accident with Jonas, or had her lover kept them as a trophy?

  “I need you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me!” she begged, practically crying as she scrabbled at his pants, trying to unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper at the same time. The position he was in made it impossible for him to use his free hand and he wasn’t going to remove his finger from her pussy; Ben had the overwhelming urge to keep part of his body inside of her at all times. So he didn’t help her, he just temp massaging her pussy with his hand and let her struggle with stripping him.

  Eventually she got his pants open and his cock out, pushing down his underwear to free him. At that point he was able to kick them free and pull off his shirt, briefly breaking his lock on her nipple. From there it was easy for him to climb on top of her into the missionary position. She guided his cock into her and they started fucking like any other married, vanilla couple, but it only lasted a few seconds before Ben found himself leaning forward, seeking out her breast with his mouth, eventually finding the rough nipple with his lips and latching on again.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “More, keep going.”

  Ben started nursing again, tasting and swallowing her milk. The thrusts from his hips came in time with each slurp from his mouth. He felt more like a machine than a man and he didn’t mind in the least. It was perfect; he never wanted it to end.

  But it had to end and it ended like all sex did: the rhythmic and intense muscle contractions that signaled orgasm. There was the brief thrill of pain followed by the slow spread of relief over his body.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said over and over into her breast, unable and unwilling to lift his head from the awkward position.

  “No, thank you,” she said to him. “It felt good.”

  He got enough of his faculties around him and managed to ask, “Me cumming in you?” He was briefly proud of that fact because he was the second man that night she had fucked; she was giving him a compliment.

  “No, you making me cum. Getting fucked and being nursed at the same time…that’s what I want from now on.”

  Ben wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do that. He realized, however, that he wanted to do it. More than anything, he wanted to have ready access to her breasts. They were, after all, the source of the wonderful milk that she was now steadily producing.

  “I think I’m addicted to you,” he confessed.

  “I love you too,” she said softly as she started drifting off to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by her strenuous sexual activity that night.

  He managed to hold his tongue long enough until her breathing was steady, with just a slight snore. “I think I’m addicted to your milk,” he clarified for her, but Petranella was asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Petranella showed Ben the messages from Marty. He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “I can understand where she’s coming from,” he said honestly. “I don’t want to stop drinking your milk either.”

  “How the fuck did I get to this place in my life?” she asked, mostly of herself, but Ben answered anyway.

  “I don’t know, but I love it,” Ben said with a self-satisfied smile. If his wife was going to be lactating without any control, he’d be happy to help her out with it.

  “That doesn’t help me.”

  “What help are you looking for?”

  After heaving a deep sigh, Petranella said, “I don’t know. I know I need help, but I don’t know what. All I really do know is that I’m going to go to work today, and I’m going to see Marty, and I’m going to want to either fuck her or make her drink my milk, but most likely probably both.”

  He glanced up at her eyes, but kept this attention focused on her chest. Maybe they were a bit bigger than before, but they were hardly huge. “Are you serious?”

  “More serious than I want to be.” Now he looked his wife in the eyes and saw that she was on the verge of tears.

  “What…what do you want me to do?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Didn’t you hear me? I don’t know what to do!”

  “If you don’t want to face them…face her…then maybe you should call in. Don’t go to work today. You deserve a day off.” He smiled at her, put his hands on her hips and slowly slid them up to cup her breast. She wanted to pull away, but at the same time she wanted him to do so much more. He was making the decision harder. To stay home and fuck her husband and have him drain her tits, or to go to work, seduce Marty, and fuck the intern and have her drain Petranella’s tits. Both were equally tempting.

  “I can’t take a day off,” she complained. Among everything else, the lab was busy with several projects and they were swamped with work. It would show a level of disloyalty—not to mention possibly being fired for breaking her contract—not to show up.

  “But maybe I can go in a little late,” she said.

  Petranella pushed her husband’s hands away and started unbuttoning her blouse. It was tight around her torso, displaying her tits and cleavage. As she opened it up, as more flesh became visible, Ben found himself mesmerized by her tits. He’s seen them a hundred times before, a thousand times before, but somehow they still managed to become enthralled by her breasts every time they were revealed to him.

  The moment her bra came off, Ben fell to his knees and applied his lips to her nipple. She could feel her milk letting down. He sucked twice quickly and found his mouth flooded with her milk. It was delicious and he swallowed it all in a big gulp. There was a steady flow now, and Ben went back and forth between sucking and swallowing. It was easiest to steady the breast he was sucking on with one hand and hold the other breast with his free hand. Ben lightly pinched her nipple because he felt liquid sliding down his fingers and he didn’t want to make a mess, or worse, let any of it go to waste.

  She moaned at Ben’s attention, but the light pinch didn’t do anything to stem the flow of her milk. Covering his hand with hers, she encouraged him to pinch harder. When he did, she shivered with delight, but it still wasn’t enough. Taking his head
between her hands, she moved him from her right breast to the left.

  “Just a little more,” she told him. “I’m very full and I need you to empty me just a little.”

  “Just a little?” he asked with a quick breath before he got back to business.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “I need to save some for Marty, don’t I?”

  “Do you?” he mumbled.

  “Uh-huh. I’m going to fuck her, she’s going to put her hand into my panties, find my pussy, and make me cum, but only after she’s sucked every last drop out of me.”

  Petranella pushed her husband’s face back from her tits. “I need you to fuck me,” she said, unzipping her skirt and stepping out of it just as quickly as she pulled down her panties. In a flash she was on her hands and knees on the floor, her tits hanging over a towel she had used to dry off from her shower that morning.

  Ben pulled out his cock, unzipping his pants while not removing a single piece of clothing. It was easy for him to enter her. She wanted him more than he wanted her. The fuck was fast and efficient. It wasn’t about sex so much as it was binding them together.

  “What was that all about?” she asked when they were done. They had both cum, but the act of climaxing seemed secondary to everything else. The question was for herself, but Ben answered.

  “I don’t know,” he breathed. “But we needed to do it.”

  “Yeah…”

  He pulled his limp cock out of her and trembled a little as he put his clothes back in order. “Are you going to work?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Are you going to…” he couldn’t finish the question.

  “You know I’m going to.”

  It was hard not making eyes at Marty when she came in to complete her intern work. Marty, too, was especially terrible at being subtle with Petranella. She spent too much time around the older woman’s workstation and her smile was too broad. It took some time, but eventually they worked out a plan to meet in the locker room during Petranella’s break.

  They went to the back corner where they’d have some privacy and some warning on the off chance that someone else came into the locker room. The moment Marty thought they were safe, her hands went to Petranella’s blouse, pulling at the material, trying to find the buttons, to get to her flesh underneath. While being flattered and excited at Marty’s anxiousness to get her naked, it was annoying to deal with the girl’s fumbling fingers. She pushed Marty away and quickly whipped off her shirt and bra in one smooth movement.

  “They’re beautiful, Petra” Marty gasped, happy to see Petranella half-naked. She pushed Petranella back against the lockers and lowered her mouth to Petra’s right breast, sucking fiercely, tasting the milk, savoring it on her tongue.

  “Oh fuck yes,” she moaned, bringing her hand up to her free breast. It had already started dripping milk. She wanted to stop the flow, saving as much as possible for her lover. Feeling Marty’s busy fingers, she glanced down to see the other woman opening up her pants and slipping her fingers into Petranella’s panties. It felt good, having Marty play with her pussy, but Petranella couldn’t tear her eyes away from the breast she was cupping. The red mark was still on her forearm, but she was positive that her tits had grown.

  Was it from the chemical spill or was it because she was lactating?

  Petranella found she couldn’t focus on the question. Marty’s mouth and fingers were too insistent. It was easy just to let it go and give herself over to Marty’s affection.

  Chapter Eight

  “Did you?” Ben asked as he moved his wife onto the bed and helped her remove her shirt and bra.

  Petranella looked down at her bare breasts, hoping they had some sign of her early activities during the day, but saw they were just full and slightly swollen. Marty had been gentle with her while nursing. There was no indication of any surreptitious activity: no scratches, bruises, or bite marks.

  “Did I what?” she asked innocently as he lowered his mouth to suckle eagerly from his wife’s tit. The light brown nipple filled his mouth and eagerly gave up its liquid burden as he began the process of removing her milk.

  “Did you…did you do it with Marty?”

  “Do what?” Petranella asked, teasing, making her husband say the words.

  “Did you fuck Marty?” he asked eagerly, sucking but talking around her fat nipple.

  “Can two women really fuck?” she asked him with a sigh as she felt her milk let down. He eagerly vacuumed up what she gave him, but her free breast started dripping almost uncontrollably.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Neither of us have a cock,” she pointed out and then made a little moan in the back of her throat while he continued to suck. “How could we fuck?”

  Ben looked up at her, his eyes almost wild with lust, and said around her swollen nipple, “Did she put her fingers in your pussy?” He then went right back to nursing on her.

  She sighed. “Yes. And it was heavenly.”

  There was quiet between them for a minute and then she spoke again. “She nursed from me. She drank my milk. She made me cum. She put her fingers in me and made me cum. I kissed her. I tasted my sweet milk on her lips and made her nurse more from me.”

  Ben moved his hand inside his wife’s pants, inside her underwear, and found her wet pussy. She helped him. Her pussy was so hot that under any other circumstance, he would have thought that she had a fever. Eventually he wiggled his finger up inside her pussy, running it over her enflamed clit, making her squirm in pleasure.

  “What did you do to her?” Ben asked as he switched from one breast to the other. Her milk had leaked all over her skin and started to wet the sheets on the bed.

  “Nothing. I fed her.”

  He lifted up his head. “You didn’t play with her tits? You didn’t go down on her? You didn’t play with her pussy?”

  “Uh-uh. I’m a good girl. I just fed Marty.”

  “Did you want to?” he asked before sucking as hard as he could on her engorged nipple.

  Petranella licked her lips before answering. “Yes. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to do it while you were watching. I wanted you to fuck me while I made her scream my name.”

  Whether or not that was true didn’t matter to Ben. He just wanted to hear the words.

  “I love your milk,” he said around her breast. “I love you.”

  “I know you do,” she told him. “Now I want you to fuck me while you nurse. I need that.”

  They had done this enough times now that it was easy, almost second nature. He got his clothes off while he continued to nurse on her, alternating back and forth between her breasts, and then he stripped the rest of the clothing off her body.

  His cock was hard; her pussy was wet and hot. It was easy for them to join bodies: his cock in her pussy, her breast in his mouth. They fucked while she nursed him. Her orgasms—there were a pair of them—came not from the skillful application of his cock to her pussy, but from the hard suction and his nimble tongue circling and pulling on her nipple.

  When Ben came, he stopped thrusting his cock in and out of her, but he didn’t stop nursing from her breast. He didn’t stop nursing until both her tits had gone dry.

  The next morning Petranella glared at herself in the mirror while she tried to fasten her bra in place. She hadn’t put on any weight around her ribcage, she wasn’t getting any fatter. The band went around body easily enough, but when she pulled the cups up over breasts, they spilled out on the sides, making it not only unsightly, but incredibly uncomfortable.

  “Fuck,” she cursed and pulled off the offending piece of lingerie. While she had plenty of bras to choose from, this morning none of them fit correctly.

  She wasn’t stupid; she knew that her tits were getting bigger primarily because she was lactating. Her left forearm was still slightly sore and itchy from the chemical spill weeks back and that didn’t help any. She peered into her dresser drawer, saw the collection of lace and silk and polyester and underwire and spandex
and knew that none of them would fit this morning.

  “Fuck it,” she said and went down a drawer.

  Inside were t-shirt and sweatpants normally reserved for weekend wear. From this drawer she pulled out an older chemise with a built-in shelf. It didn’t have much in the way of support, but it would be better than going completely braless at work.

  At work, it wasn’t Marty who Petranella sought out, but Jonas. Her occasional lover, the one who sported a cock but also had lips as eager as Marty, was happy to receive an invitation.

  “The bathroom?” he asked, slightly repulsed by her choice of encounter location.

  “Do you have a better idea?” A medical testing laboratory wasn’t exactly designed to facilitate sexual encounters between coworkers.

  “Yeah, actually. I do.”

  “I’m not going into the men’s locker room,” she told him flatly.

  “Not the men’s locker room,” he said.

  “Where? The supply closet?”

  “Sort of.”

  The room was a de facto supply closet for old equipment that was no longer used but still too valuable to dispose of. For the most part, it had been an unused room for well over a year. Officially it was the mother’s room, but since there were no pregnant women in the lab, or any nursing mothers, it was largely unused.

  “Just putting it back into service for its intended purpose,” Jonas said as he used the key to open the small room. It had a pair of comfortable chairs and a sturdy table. Along the back wall were boxes of the lab equipment being stored.

  Petranella wasn’t the least bit shy about unbuttoning her purple blouse and pulling down the top of the chemise to expose her breasts.

  “Fuck…” Jonas all but collapsed back against the door and slid the barrel bolt into place so no one would walk in on them.