Chapter 12

Alex didn’t make it any easier on Bob. That night she appeared in his doorway, stark naked.

“You’re supposed to be wearing panties,” he said.

“All my panties are dirty,” she said. “I need to do laundry.”

“Why do I doubt the veracity of your explanation?” he asked.

“Because you’re a suspicious old curmudgeon.”

“What I am is a suspicious old curmudgeon who is developing an erection,” he said.

“That doesn’t worry me,” she said, sweetly.

“You’re going to get pregnant,” he warned.

“That doesn’t worry me, either,” she said. “Are you going to give me my treatment, or not?”

He moved to one side to let her get into bed. Then, without comment, he slid off his boxers and displayed his boner.

“Why do you want this so much?” he asked.

“Because it feels good,” she said. “Because I want to. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Be serious. I’m almost old enough to be your father. You could have any boy you wanted.”

“Maybe I don’t want a boy,” she said.

“I hired you to take care of my son, not to be my paramour.”

“I am taking care of your son,” she said. “Or helping to. And it would be a lot easier if my breasts would cooperate. It would be a lot easier if you would cooperate, too. Now, please suck my nipples.”

Without saying anything further he got over her, kneed his way between her thighs, and dropped his head to suckle first one breast, and then the other. Her little sounds of joy only made him harder. He didn’t understand why she wanted him, a thirty-two-year-old widower with a child who might not even be his biological offspring. She hadn’t shown any romantic interest in him when he first hired her. She hadn’t flirted. Nor had he. As he pulled at one nipple, raising his head to make it stretch, lifting her heavy breast flesh with it, he decided it all started when she decided to try to lactate.

Her hand found his penis and stroked it. He let her bring him to her portal and, bending his neck, awkwardly to keep her nipple in his mouth, slid into her furnace. She sighed and when he tried to push deep, her nipple slipped from between his teeth.

“I can’t do both,” he panted.

“Then do this first,” she panted in reply.

He got an idea. He wasn’t a buff man, though his muscles were still firm. It took all of his energy to reach behind her and pull her up off the bed, to sit, straddling him as he sat on his own calves.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Trying to do both,” he grunted.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

He reached around her to gather in pillows and then dragged the blanket behind her, too. It took some time, but he finally had a mound he thought might work.

“Arch your back, bend backwards, and lie on the pillows,” he said.

She cooperated, and ended up with her breasts higher than her head. He leaned forward and was able to reach them, now. As he sucked, he tried short rabbit strokes. He could only move an inch or two, but putting his hands on her hips helped him pull and push.

“That feels amazing!” she gasped.

It felt amazing to him, too. The tip of his prick was ramming into something firm, but which gave a little. It rubbed against only the top of his knob, but it was exquisite. Suddenly, he knew he couldn’t last long this way, and stopped, to concentrate on nursing.

“Don’t stop!” she complained.

“If I keep going, I’ll finish,” he said. “Then I’ll go soft.”

“No, no, no!” she gasped. “You have to stay hard.”

“Then I can’t move,” he panted. “Not in and out.”

“Crap,” she groaned. “I was almost there.”

“I can go some more when I calm down.”

“Ooooo,” she moaned. “I want to cum so bad.”

“You’ll get to cum,” he said.

“At least push,” she whined. “You’re deeper than before. It feels like you’re hitting a button connected to my orgasm maker.”

“You mean this?” he asked, nudging the tip of his penis against that rubbery thing inside her.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she groaned. “It hurts a little, but it’s the best hurt I ever felt.”

He leaned down to suck nipples again, and just pushed, now and then. It was still stimulating, but not so much as before. He thought he could last a while this way.

He felt her vagina clamp down hard, all along his length, and then relax. He assumed she’d had an orgasm. Then it did it again ... and again ... in a rhythm that was too regular to be unconscious. She couldn’t be having an unbroken string of orgasms. She was squeezing him on purpose. Instinct made him flex the muscles associated with his penis. It felt good to do that. It must just feel good for her to squeeze him, too.

“Keep going!” she gasped.

He gave up and abandoned her nipples. Holding her waist, but leaving her bent backwards, he started those short rabbit strokes again. She yipped, “Yes, yes, yes!” and the squeezing became erratic and uncontrolled. This was an orgasm. Her vaginal walls rippled and as if a switch had been flipped, he felt semen begin to rush through his penis. It was an orgasm with none of the usual warning signs. It just started, and suddenly he was spurting in her. This unique orgasm didn’t make him freeze, or close his eyes, or groan like he usually did. He just shot off in her hot depths and it just felt fabulous. And she looked fabulous as she sucked his seed out of him.

Alex, on the other hand, sounded like she was being killed. Her whole body went rigid as she raised her shoulders a foot, her hands gripping his elbows in a death grip. Her throat emitted a keening, high-pitched sound that didn’t mimic any vowel or consonant he was familiar with.

It was because his eyes were open as she had her bone-wrenching orgasm, that he saw a drop of white suddenly appear on the side of one distended nipple. Like magic, it was just there. He reached to use his thumb and two fingers to squeeze her tight breast flesh, starting an inch away from her areola and then toward the nipple. More drips sprouted all around the nipple, and an impossibly thin stream jetted from the tip. In amazement, he dropped his head and, as his penis gave a last gasp inside her, he sucked.

Sweet ... warmth.

She was lactating!

Her orgasm lasted much longer than his. She wasn’t even aware of how her breast status had changed until he pulled her up to hug.

“You did it,” her said into her hair.

“No, you did it,” she gasped. “That was incredible. That was the best orgasm I ever had.”

“No, I mean your breasts,” he said. He pushed her backwards. Where her left breast had been against his chest there was a damp spot. The other side was dry. “You just made some milk. I tasted it.”

“What?” She looked down. There wasn’t much to see. For her, the process had just started, and her breasts were making milk in about the same amount a newborn infant might need. That would only amount to a half an ounce, and Bob had gotten most of that. He pointed to her nipple.

“That one. While you were having that orgasm, I saw something and I tasted it and it was milk.”

She went still again.

“Don’t lie to me, Bob,” she said. “I didn’t feel anything.”

“I think your body was overloaded. But I got something. It tasted just like Ronnie’s milk.”

She looked down.

“Do it again.”

He lay her back and sucked. Only the merest taste registered. He switched to the other one. Nothing.

“I don’t feel anything,” she said. “Ronnie said it stings a little, at first.”

“There isn’t anything there, now,” he said. “I think I got it all, and I think only one breast is making it right now.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work!” she moaned.

“Relax. It just got started. Give it time to mature. But I swear, Alex, you made milk.”

Suddenly she was excited. She pushed him back and he got off of her like a man dismounts a horse, lifting one leg high. His penis was milky-white when it was exposed.

Before she could get up, his semen began oozing from her flushed pussy mouth. She left him sitting on the bed and ran out of the room. He could hear her voice and assumed she was consulting with Ronnie. Now he had time to think. He was still of two minds. It was well known that young people wanted things, things that sometimes led to consequences, consequences they either didn’t think about, or assumed they could avoid. Unintended pregnancies were only one example. That, however, was the example that applied in Bob’s life at the moment. He wasn’t young, but he had happily bred his lover in the heat of the moment. He hadn’t even thought about trying to pull out. Granted, it had come upon him without warning. But still, even after the first jet of his sperm-rich fluid had issued forth, he hadn’t tried to pull out.

She had the excuse of passion, youth, even stupidity. He had no excuses at all. He was the adult, here. His track record was falling by the wayside in a hurry. Not only was he boffing a student, he was boffing her in such a way as it might make her belly swell. As far as ethics went, the word didn’t seem to be in his lexicon any longer.

On the other hand, she was the very definition of consenting. She did not ask him to protect her from pregnancy. She had the availability to get birth control from the student clinic and, to his knowledge, had decided not to avail herself of that boon.

Then it was back to him feeling like he couldn’t expect a freshman girl to take responsibility, and that all responsibility in this matter was his.

He lay down, his head spinning.

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, on top of the covers. He didn’t wake up until morning, at which time he realized Alex had never come back to bed.

What Alex had done, the night before, had nothing to do with the heavy load of spunk Bob had deposited next to her cervix, which was that firm, rubbery thing the tip of his cock had repeatedly slid past. She didn’t think about his sperm at all. She was centered on a different kind of translucent, milky substance that had been produced, as a result of their lovemaking. Whether it was the strength of her orgasm that had tipped the scales, or merely the repeated stimulation of her nipples, also didn’t matter to her. All she could think about was getting more milk from her breasts.

She had to talk to Ronnie about all this. Ronnie, in an interesting reversal of roles, was suddenly the more experienced woman, at least when it came to producing milk and feeding it to Jeffrey. Alex wanted to try to nurse the baby right away, but as it turned out, Ronnie had just fed him and put him down a half hour earlier. She bent her will to Alex in many things, but not this.

The solution was obvious. Ronnie had sucked her friend’s nipples dozens of times. They had often slept together in the same bed, because they traded off stimulating each other’s breasts. The easy familiarity they had with each other’s bodies had nothing to do with passion or sexual orientation. The process, however, created changes in both that neither would have started out to pursue. One analogy of this phenomenon could be an odd behavior young men sometimes display. Very few straight men in their late teens to late twenties would intentionally put their hand on another male’s buttocks. It’s just not done. Yet, when they form a football team, and adrenaline rushes through their veins, they slap each other’s asses without a thought that it mimics “gay” behavior. It’s about friendship, camaraderie, team spirit.

In most cases, that’s all such ass slapping is about. With women, called “the gentler sex” in days of old, the process of doing something intimate together can create much closer ties. Neither Alex nor Ronnie would have considered herself to have lesbian tendencies. But this friendship was deeper than any they had had before. The sucking of nipples ... the sleeping together, nude ... the general atmosphere of shared intimacy itself, had forged bonds between them that were like steel chains. They were velvet-covered chains, to be sure, but they were stronger than either girl would have believed on a purely cerebral level.

So, when Ronnie said she would suck, and see what all the fuss Bob had created was about, Alex was happy to lie down on the bed with her arms thrown wide. Her sperm-stained pubes were on full display, and Ronnie noticed. Her eyes took in not only the spermy mess of pubic hair, but the runnels of white that had made it about eight inches down the insides of both thighs.

“You made love,” she whispered, staring at the evidence.

Alex, thus far, had said only, “Bob said he tasted milk! But then he couldn’t!” Now she nodded. “It was amazing. He had me in this weird position. I can’t explain it now. Please, Ronnie, I have to know. Please suck!”

Feeding Jeffrey had changed Ronnie. It was something she had a hard time articulating, even to herself, but she knew she was different, and would always be different from the young woman who had first walked into this house. She wasn’t a philosopher. The argument that change is constant, and that we are never the same person we were even minutes ago, would have registered with her as “silly”. The second or third time Jeffrey latched on and she felt the fleeting sting of her milk letting down, and then watched as he happily and comfortably sucked and gulped and wiggled, she felt like a new woman. His dependence on her was something she hadn’t thought much about until she started feeding him with her own milk.

Before this she knew about the “bonding” that breast feeding was believed to create. Before this it had been abstract. Now she had felt it. And it had changed her. Jeffrey was “hers” on a different level, now. She understood that, even if she couldn’t explain it in words. The part she couldn’t quite understand was that she felt differently about Jeffrey’s father, too. Somehow he was “hers” as well.

She knew that Bob and Alex had made love before. She’d seen the shadow version of it in person. He had almost made love to her, too, in her mind. He had caused her milk to come in by sucking her nipples. His finger had plumbed her depths and given her orgasms. His lips had sucked at her sex and done the same. The tip of his penis had penetrated her. That part was misty, but she knew it had happened. And even if that penis hadn’t gone deep in her vagina, it had gone deep in her mouth. The semen that was now making a mess between Alex’s legs had been all over the inside of her own mouth, and throat, and stomach. His sperm had been deep in her body, even if it wasn’t in a place where sperm could do what it was supposed to do.

And then she had fed his baby. She’d been conflicted about all this sex business, before. Now, somehow, she thought of Bob as “hers” and when she saw what he and Alex had done ... it made her jealous! She recognized the feeling as jealousy instantly. She’d been jealous of other girls all her life. Mostly that was because those girls looked like girls, with bumps and curves, and those girls had bevies of boys chasing around after them. The attention Ronny had given her had been a massive shot in the arm of her self-confidence. She hadn’t thought of all the times Bob had complimented her, or said he wanted to do things with her in the same way. Bob was different from all other men. Part of her brain had told her, “This boy my own age … he’s just horny, that’s all. He’s just saying things to make you feel good.” Then Ronny had shown clear and honest interest in her. Maybe he was just horny, too, but for two men to display such interest in her was more than mere coincidence.

Basically, Ronnie Simmons had come to the conclusion that, perhaps, she really was attractive on some level to the male of the species. It wasn’t so much a thought process as it was a series of feelings and emotions. Whatever had brought her there, it also changed the way she thought about Bob, in terms of the kind of lovemaking they could do in the future. Or rather, the extent to which she now felt she could go with him.

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