Chapter 1: Meet Abby
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Teenagers, Consensual, NonConsensual, Lesbian, Science Fiction, BDSM, FemaleDom, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Bestiality, Lactation, Body Modification, Big Breasts,
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Meet Abby - I found Abby in a dive bar, in a grimy port on an alien world. She works as a waitress, offering her breast milk to anyone who's got the cash. Abby's breasts aren't large, but they're always swollen with creamy goodness even though she's never been pregnant. This is the story of how a young farm girl discovered her fetish and talent for lactation and turned it into a career. Contains breast expansion, f/piglet, futa & general kink.
I still remember the night I met her.
I was making the run to Mira 6 about once a month, dropping off shipments of beer and packaged food and bringing back rare-earth metals. We've got a lot of electronics these days, and not much palladium and iridium to go around.
Anyway, I got to talking with the guy at the refinery. I told him I'd be in town overnight, and I asked him where was a good bar.
He gave me a big shit-eating grin. "You seem like a guy with an open mind," he said. "Why don't you check this place out?" He picked up a pad and wrote "The Wellspring Tavern" and an address. I thanked him and left to load up my ship.
That night I went to check out the Wellspring. It was a few blocks from my hotel in what looked like a questionable part of town. Every other neon sign said "GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS" or "ALIEN MASSAGE". Groups of tough guys stood around bullshitting and gambling, and shady alien characters leaned against alley walls. As I passed, they hissed at me in some incomprehensible language.
I almost missed the tavern. Its sign was a lot smaller than the brothels', and very simple. The logo was a sort-of swishy line drawing of a woman with big tits, a narrow waist, and wide hips.
"Hmm, a titty bar," I said. "This could be fun."
I stepped inside. It was the strangest titty bar I'd ever seen. It was set up like an old-timey pub. There were lots of tables in little alcoves, wooden paneling on the walls, and a massive wooden bar with a line of beer taps.
The place was packed. Most of the tables were full of laughing, shouting guys or knots of aliens with big heads and scaly skin. They cackled and muttered their crazy gibberish. True to titty bar form, there were girls all over and around the tables, touching guys' shoulders, sitting on laps.
A waitress walked by me carrying a tray of beers. She was a tall, thick redhead, dressed like a medieval barmaid. She had a ruffled skirt with petticoats or something underneath and a tight corset that ended just under her breasts. Her puffy white shirt was currently pulled down underneath her massive tits.
Jesus, they were huge. Each jug must have weighed 8 or 10 pounds, with areolas the size of pie plates and big hard nipples that could put your eye out.
"Sit anywhere you like," she said, and winked at me.
I took a table along the back wall. A moment later, a blonde waitress walked up. She was also dressed in the "bar wench" style. I guess the Wellspring was taking the "tavern" thing seriously. Her impressive tits were covered, but her deep cleavage peeked out the top of her bodice.
"What'll you have?" she said, squeezing her tits together with her arms.
"I, uh," I stuttered, staring hard at her mounds.
She laughed. "First time here, hon?"
"Welcome to the Wellspring," she said. "We have beer, wine, booze, the usual stuff," she said. "But we also have a very special menu." She turned slightly and nodded at two other barmaids sitting at a table. They came walking over. One was short and thin, with skin the color of strong milky coffee. The other was chubby and pale. She came to the table slowly, walking with tiny little mincing steps.
"See, every girl at the Wellspring serves her own special drink," said the blonde. She reached a hand into the elastic of her shirt and hauled out one fat tit. She cupped it with her hand and squeezed a nipple. A jet of milk shot out, splattering the table in front of me.
"For thirty credits," she said, "you can take a drink from these." She grinned at me lasciviously, then continued.
"Or, if you're in the mood for something different, you can try a little Gwen." The chubby girl lifted her skirt and showed me her bald pussy. She spread her lips to reveal her pink interior, then reached for a little glass. She held it under herself and squealed as a squirt of amber liquid jetted from her pisshole. She struggled to stop the flow, her entire body giving a little shiver as she managed to pinch it off.
"Holy shit," I said. From the size of her swollen belly, her bladder must have been the size of a canteloupe. No wonder she was walking like that.
"Or, for the truly adventurous," said the blonde,"There's Nana."
The short girl with the dark skin stared me straight in the eye. She flipped up her skirt and underneath was an enormous cock. It had to be ten inches long, with a pair of balls like small oranges hanging loosely underneath. For a dick, it was surprisingly feminine, soft, slender and completely hairless, with a cute little pointed tip still wrapped in foreskin.
"Sorry, I don't give samples," Nana said. She grasped her cock with one hand and pointed it at me, juggling her big balls in the other. "But I guarantee large portions."
I looked at all three of them for a minute, then shrugged. "Ladies, you're all extremely tempting," I said, "but I'll just have a beer for now."
Nana and Gwen tucked themselves back in and left the table. "Sure thing," said the blonde. She produced a shot glass from an apron pocket and held it up to her nipple. She squirted it full of her milk and set it on the table in front of me. "First one's free," she said, then went to get my beer.
I nursed my beer slowly, watching some kind of alien racing sport on the vid screen. When it was empty, I looked around for the blonde waitress, but I couldn't find her. I was about to give up and go to the bar when another waitress walked past.
She was just a tiny thing. She must have been in her early 20s, pale, petite and slender. She wore her chestnut-brown hair in a plaited ponytail. She had the bluest eyes I've ever seen.
"Excuse me miss," I said. "Is the blonde waitress still here? The big one with the milk?"
She stopped. "Oh, you mean Martha?" she said. She glanced over at a clock on the wall, "I think her shift ended a little bit ago. Is there something I can get you?"
"Oh," I said, looking at the empty shot glass next to my beer mug. "I was hoping to get some of her special milk."
She set her tray down on the table beside me and tapped on the back of my chair. "You're in luck," she said. "Scooch back a little so I can sit down."
I pushed my chair away from the table. "I'm Abby," she said, offering me her hand. Abby picked up her skirts, put a leg across my lap, and straddled me. She was so small, she hardly weighed anything. She wiggled her little ass on my crotch.
"So, you're thirsty for milk, are you?" Abby said teasingly. She pulled down the front of her shirt and I got my first look at the tits I would come to know so well. Abby's breasts were a shade paler than the rest of her body. They weren't huge, but they weren't small either. They were amazingly plump, full and juicy-looking, with puffy pink areolas and lovely wide teats that just begged to be sucked.
At the time I did not appreciate them. Compared to Martha's massive milkbags, they seemed a light snack rather than a meal.
Abby must have seen the look on my face. "Don't worry," she said, cupping her tits. "They're not as big as Martha's, but there's plenty of milk in here." She rubbed a finger in circles around one fat nipple, which quickly swelled. She grasped her nipple between two fingers and squirted a jet of milk across my nose and lips.
"See?" she giggled.
I licked my lips. "You're beautiful," I said. "Really-"
She shushed me, then thrust her teat into my open mouth. My lips closed over her nipple and began to suck as if by instinct. For a few seconds I didn't taste anything, and then something within Abby burst and her milk began to overflow.
"Mmm," I moaned as Abby's warm milk flooded my mouth. So help me god, my eyes fluttered. It tasted exquisite, sweet, warm, and rich. I swallowed and suckled greedily for more.
"Wow, someone's hungry," she said, stroking my hair. "That's good. Mama's got lots of milk for you."
I drank for several minutes, amazed at how much milk was inside her. I slurped as much of her big nipple as I could into my mouth and just rested my head against her, inhaling the warm cinnamon aroma of her body lotion. Finally, she tapped me on the head, "Let's switch to the other one," she said. "I don't want to get lopsided."
She withdrew her nipple and shifted on my lap, proffering her other bloated boob.
"You don't have to be so gentle with me," she said. "Most guys aren't." She gave me a flirty wink and gave her ass a little grind on my lap. I realized I was painfully hard, my boner throbbing between her pert little cheeks.
I attacked her tit, tonguing her nipple and areola and slurping her milk with gusto. She grabbed my short hair and tugged lightly on it. "Mmm," she purred. "Now you're doing it right." She continued to slowly rub her asscheeks up and down the length of my dick as I drained her.
When I had had my fill, I unlatched from her and looked into her blue eyes. There was still milk leaking from her nipple. "Goddamn," I said. "Do you ever run out?"
Abby flashed me a cute smile, her eyes and nose crinkling, and said, "Sometimes."
She slid off my lap and stood. I reached for my wallet. "What do I owe you?" I said.
She was fishing for something in her pocket, not looking at me. "Twenty," she said. She pulled out a wrapped antiseptic wipe. She unwrapped and unfolded it and wiped each of her tits, then balled it up and put it in another pocket.
"Very hygienic," I said, still tasting her on my lips. I handed her my card and she popped it into a portable scanner.
"Martha was charging thirty," I said. "Why so cheap?"
"Martha's got mouths to feed," Abby said. "Three babies at home." She tucked her boobies back into her shirt one at a time, then gave her chest a little pat.
"What about you?" I said. "Does your baby have a job or something?"
"Oh, I don't have a baby," she said.
"Oh?" I said. I paused, unsure what to say next. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."
Abby laughed. "No, I've never had any babies. My titties just make milk is all."
I felt a twinge of something warm and exciting in the pit of my stomach. "That was an awful lot of milk for someone who's never had a baby," I said.
"I guess you could say I'm self-taught," she said. "I've been lactating since I was a teenager." My deflating dick instantly perked up, entranced by the thought of a teenaged Abby running around with milk-bloated tits.
"How'd that happen?" I said. I was reeling with lust and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to drink her all over again.
"It's kind of a long story, and my shift's just about over," she said. "But come back and see me again, and I'll tell you all about it." She picked up her tray and walked away.
I knew I'd be back before long.