Self-Induced VIII (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.

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Janet couldn’t believe how amazing it felt. She twisted her fingers through her coworker’s hair as Mary continued to drink, slow and sensually, seeming to truly savor the taste of Janet’s milk.

It was strangely refreshing to let Mary in on her secret. Finally, there was someone else who could truly appreciate how deliciously addictive Janet’s milk was. How there was hardly a choice but to indulge and consume as much as she could of it. Wasting it was practically criminal in Janet’s eyes. And now Mary could see it too. Now Mary knew.

“God, it’s so good,” Mary moaned against Janet’s skin before filling her mouth again.

While leaning her ass on the desk, Janet was gripping the edges, struggling to stay upright rather than lean back and give in to the outrageous pleasure reverberating throughout her chest and the rest of her body. Somehow this was even better than when she sucked from herself personally. Mary’s lips were just amazing. Janet pulled her closer, pulling Mary flush to her skin, practically smothering the other woman in her cleavage.

“Mmmghh…you fucking cow,” Mary teased.

Yes, I’m a cow. Don’t stop. Keep milking me, Janet thought.

Yet there was another part of her that was almost jealous of Mary, ridiculous as that seemed. Janet’s body produced an abundant amount of milk, more than Mary could hope to consume, yet Janet still had an irrational fear that Mary would take it all.

“Fuck,” said Mary, abruptly pulling off with a wet pop, causing Janet to yelp as electricity shot through her swollen pink nipple. “John’s going to be back any minute.”

Janet shivered.

“Could you imagine if he walked in on us? Me milking you like a cow with your fun-bags sticking out?”

Janet was in a daze. She tried to stammer out words, but nothing decipherable came out.

Mary shook her head as she licked her lips, a grin spreading over her face. “God, you’re such a freak, Janet. Look at those things. They look ready to blow.”

Mary wasn’t lying. Maybe it was the hormones, the excitement, or all the stimulation, but Janet’s breasts were more swollen than ever. They heaved up and down with her heavy breathing, feeling hot, heavy, and just packed with milk. As she gazed down at the flushed mounds, Janet was doubtful that she would be able to button herself back into her blouse.

“Well, you better clean yourself up,” said Mary as she straightened. “John is coming,” she added tauntingly as she wiggled her fingers in a wave, adjusted her skirt, then turned. She shut off the light, if just to antagonize. Then she exited the office, snapping the door shut behind her.

Janet’s heart was racing. She knew that she had been in John’s office for far too long already. Yet she needed some draining if she had any hope of getting her clothes on.

Thinking fast, Janet shuffled around the desk as she got on all fours, crawling beneath it. She leaned back, panting quietly as she fumbled to lift her left breast with clumsy hands and aim her nipple to her lips. She would have to do this fast. Drain herself, button her blouse, then get out of there. If she kept it together, she would be finished in no time, and John would have no clue that she had ever been there at all.

So Janet closed her lips around her swollen nipple, humming as she drew that first mouthful of fluid, eyes closing as she got lost in the sensation a little. She drank as quickly as she could, taking in gulp after gulp as she felt her belly start to tighten. She tried to drink the milk faster than she produced it. Get herself down a few cup sizes. She switched to her right breast, even though she knew she hadn’t drank nearly enough from the left one. But she got to work, sucking, body sweating, thighs squirming. Her stomach tightened more as it got fuller and rounder, yet both her breasts were still so big. She wondered if she was fighting a losing battle, but no, that was just the anxiety. She was making progress. She had to keep going. Had to calm down.

The lights turned on.

Janet froze.

With her pulse pounding in her ears, she must not have heard the door opening. But now, as she listened, she could hear someone walking around. Setting something on the desk. Coughing and muttering to himself.

John was back.