Salah rode home on the bus wishing he could do something about his horniness. He couldn't masturbate on the bus, of course, and even after he got back to his apartment, it wouldn't do him much good. Even if his cock could have gotten stiff enough, any climax he might have coaxed out of it would have been unsatisfying in the extreme. If he had a woman, that wouldn't help either, unless she was a very unusual woman, able and willing to provide what he needed before the fucking could begin.
22-years-old Salah still lives with his parents. He is still single, never getting married yet.What he needed was milk, and not the kind in the supermarket dairy case either. It had to come directly from a breast, so he could taste the warm, delicious fluid as it trickled into his mouth, and smell the sweet, motherly aroma of the woman, and feel the rough texture of her nipple and areola on his lips and tongue, along with the soft skin of her breasts. It wouldn't really take much more than a mouthful, but he had no woman available to provide him with even that much. There was nobody likely to become available in the foreseeable future either. The woman who had occasionally catered to his particular fetish had moved away almost three months ago and Salah's sex life had been completely non-existent since then.
As he stared morosely straight ahead, a woman with long brown hair and a pretty face climbed aboard and started walking toward him, her thick body swaying with the movement of the bus. Salah recognized her. Although he didn't know her name, he knew she lived in the same building as he did, just down the hall from his apartment. Once or twice, he had even chatted briefly with her while riding on the elevator, but he hadn't seen her since a long time, an eight months ago. In the last time he saw her, the woman had been in an advanced state of pregnancy, but apparently, she had delivered the baby since then. He looked at the swollen breasts bulging her light jacket, and thought of how he would love to get one of them into his mouth and taste the delights it could provide him, although he would never consider making such a suggestion.
The bus had only a few empty seats, and one of them was next to Salah. The brown-haired woman saw it, recognized him, and smiled nicely. "Is this seat taken?" she asked.
"No, it's not. Help yourself."
The young woman settled into the seat and they rode in silence for a few more blocks. The bus would stop right in front of their apartment building, but the trip was still almost two miles. Although they didn't know each other very well, they were also not total strangers, and Salah finally broke the silence.
"Hi. I've seen you around the apartment building and even talked to you, but I don't know your name. My name is Salah."
"Yeah, I kind of know you. My name is Qoot Al-Qoloob."
"How's the baby?"
"Oh, he's fine. I guess."
"Er ... You guess?"
"Uh, Yeah. Look, it's like this. I left him to my mother to take care of him."
"I see. That must have been very heartwarming, I mean having a baby."
"Yeah, it was. But there's one thing that I hadn't really thought about until yesterday. The baby was born eight months ago and now I'm producing milk. By the gallon, it seems like, and nobody to nurse. Because I feed him artificial feeding with infant formula. My boobies feel like they're sloshing when I move."
Salah had a sudden, wildly optimistic thought. This might be his chance. "So, what will you do about it? The milk, I mean."
"Oh, I bought a breast pump today, and I'll use it to pump my boobies out and let it drain down the sink. It does seem like a waste, though." Noticing the eager look on his face, she asked "Why? Do you have a better idea?"
"Well, yeah. Yeah, I do." Hesitating, and carefully choosing his words, Salah described his situation. It was the most embarrassing thing he had ever done, describing his needs to this woman who was almost a stranger, and presenting his proposition without putting it into words. He probably wouldn't have been able to continue, but she seemed to be encouraging him, smiling and nodding her head, instead of slapping his face, calling him a pervert and striding angrily away.
"Well, there you have it," he concluded. "I hope you don't think I'm some kind of weirdo, but I wouldn't blame you if you do."
"Unusual, yes, but a weirdo? No. You know, you're not the only one who hasn't been getting any. But I'm a married woman, you know. You still want me."
"Yes, more than anything." Salah said.
"So, to answer the question you didn't ask: Yes, but it'll have to be at my place. My husband is busy nowadays in an errand outside the city for a whole week."
Outwardly, he was calm, but Salah was exulting inside. "Of course. Anything you say."
Qoot Al-Qoloob smiled and patted her seatmate's leg. During their few brief encounters in their apartment building, she had observed him to be a handsome and personable young man, and had even thought of him as a possible cure for her increasing horniness, once she had given birth. Furthermore, she had vivid memories of suckling the newborn, but only the one time, just before she decided to feed him infant formula and brought him to her mother. She didn't want to have a saggy breasts with breastfeeding. She wanted to get rid of the baby's screams and responsibilities. Not only had the pressure in her breasts been relieved, Qoot Al-Qoloob had experienced a certain erotic feeling during the process, and she could now feel her pussy stirring at the memory. She smiled at Salah and moved closer, pressing her leg against his and squeezing his thigh with her hand, until the bus reached their stop.
Their building is a secure one, and Salah unlocked the front door, held it open, and followed Qoot Al-Qoloob inside. The elevator they shared was equipped with a surveillance camera and they tacitly agreed that, to avoid giving anybody the right idea, they would behave like friendly strangers until they were inside Qoot Al-Qoloob's apartment. They were both eager to begin what promised to be an extremely enjoyable experience, but they could wait a few more minutes.
Once they were away from any possible snooping eyes, their waiting ended. As soon as Qoot Al-Qoloob locked the door of her apartment, threw the heavy slide bolt and turned to face Salah, they were hugging closely, their open mouths pressed tightly together and their tongues exploring. Qoot Al-Qoloob hesitated slightly while she kicked off her shoes, but immediately resumed kissing Salah, even more passionately, her tongue even more aggressive. They broke off the kiss just long enough to breathe deeply before embracing and kissing again. Finally, Qoot Al-Qoloob leaned away from him, eager to proceed to where they would be able to do what they both wanted.
"My bedroom is down this hallway," she whispered, and hooked her hand into the waistband of Salah's pants as she led him to their destination.
He was no less avid than she, and removed his jacket during the short walk. As they stood beside her bed, their mouths sharing another long kiss, Qoot Al-Qoloob's hands were busy unzipping her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse. After completing those necessary tasks, she ended the kiss, shucked off both garments, and turned her back to let Salah unfasten her bra, which he did quickly and with great alacrity. When she turned back around, she was naked above the waist, except for the bra that her hands still held in place. Seconds later, that was gone too, and she presented her full, luscious breasts to the man who was lusting so much for what they could provide to him.
Almost reverently, he held one of the lovely twins in either hand. They felt heavy and full, and he even saw some drops of milk oozing out of one nipple. Quickly, he bent over and licked off the ambrosia, relishing the erotic sensation that flooded his body as the warmth of even those few drops of milk filled his mouth. He could even feel his cock starting to stiffen, for the first time in months. Although she wanted very much to continue, and wanted no more delays, Qoot Al-Qoloob pushed him away, in order to get more comfortable.
"I love the way that feels, but let me lie down on the bed first."
Replacing his hands with her own, Qoot Al-Qoloob sat on the edge of the unmade bed. Still holding her breasts to prevent any more leaking, she lay on her back and scooted over to the middle, positioning her head on one of the pillows. After removing his shoes and socks, Salah joined her, once again gently filling his hands with the lovely globes that were about to give him what he craved.
.... There is more of this story ...