he repeated himself. Amy had zoned out. She was in awe of the opportunity.
She nodded and replied weakly, “Yes.”
“Good. Now, before we sign, I’ll need to examine your breasts. Test the merchandise, so to speak.”
Amy raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t anticipated starting so quickly. She stood in front of him and began to unbutton her top. He watched her with a clinical eye. Amy removed her top and cleared her throat. “I’m ready,” she said.
Mr. King rose from his seat and approached calmly. His eyes were trained on her breasts. “Remove your bra,” he instructed.
“Would you like to do it?” Amy hoped he would say yes. If he touched her, it might make it easier, she thought. She felt extremely attracted to him.
“No,” he replied. “This is just a cursory exam.”
Amy smiled as if she understood, then reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She let it fall to the floor unceremoniously.
Mr. King’s chin rested in his hand. His thumb ran over his mouth.
Her creamy, round breasts were on full display. They were firm and plentiful with two large cherry nipples that called out for a pair of lips or a tongue, to explore their surface and plunder the sweet milk inside.
Mr. King only stared.
“Would like to touch them?” Amy asked coyly.
For the first time since she’d undressed his eyes met her own. “Would that be a problem?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course not.”
Mr. King hesitated, then reached out timidly. He cupped her breasts, feeling her velvet soft skin. Then, he squeezed gently and ran his thumb over her nipples, the same we had over his lips.
“Does that hurt?” he asked.
Due to the excess of hormones in her body, her nipples often did become very sensitive, even raw, but his touch was gentle and soothing. Amy was surprised he cared enough to ask about her comfort. Maybe the arrangement isn’t quite as formal as it seems, she thought.
She shook her head no. “You can taste them if you want.”
Amy stood perfectly still. She had never had a man, or for that matter a child, breast feed from her. She had no idea what it would feel like.
He went down on his knees in front of her like a supplicant. This rich and powerful man was suddenly a beggar at her mercy.
Amy knelt in front of him and stuck out her chest expectantly. The words were unspoken, but in their own way he was asking and she was giving permission to continue.
He moved towards her slowly. His lips curled around her nipple. Amy’s whole body tensed. He ran his tongue over her nipple and she giggled. The tension was too great.
Mr. King pulled away from her and smiled. “Relax.”
Amy took a breath and composed herself. “Go on.”
“I had a taste, that will suffice for now.” He rose and walked behind his desk.
‘A taste,’ Amy thought puzzled. She hadn’t felt anything. She looked down and saw a small drop of milk leaking from her nipple. When sexually stimulated Amy’s breasts often began lactating on their own.
“It was very good.”
Amy looked up flustered. “Sorry?”
“The merchandise,” he smiled. It was the wicked grin of a sinful boy, who knows he’s gotten away with a dirty deed. “You may get dressed.”
Embarrassed, Amy realized she was still on her knees. She picked up her shirt and buttoned it quickly.
Mr. King pretended to reread the contract, flipping through papers absentmindedly. In truth, he didn’t want her to feel ashamed or shy, so he took on a professional, disconnected air.
Inside, he was thrilled; not only was she beautiful, but her breast milk was sweet like butter cream. After they spent some time together, he hoped, Amy would be more relaxed and open to the experience. They were all a bit nervous at first. Some quit after a few sessions, but he saw a great potential in Amy. They were going to enjoy this together.
He cleared
She nodded and replied weakly, “Yes.”
“Good. Now, before we sign, I’ll need to examine your breasts. Test the merchandise, so to speak.”
Amy raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t anticipated starting so quickly. She stood in front of him and began to unbutton her top. He watched her with a clinical eye. Amy removed her top and cleared her throat. “I’m ready,” she said.
Mr. King rose from his seat and approached calmly. His eyes were trained on her breasts. “Remove your bra,” he instructed.
“Would you like to do it?” Amy hoped he would say yes. If he touched her, it might make it easier, she thought. She felt extremely attracted to him.
“No,” he replied. “This is just a cursory exam.”
Amy smiled as if she understood, then reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She let it fall to the floor unceremoniously.
Mr. King’s chin rested in his hand. His thumb ran over his mouth.
Her creamy, round breasts were on full display. They were firm and plentiful with two large cherry nipples that called out for a pair of lips or a tongue, to explore their surface and plunder the sweet milk inside.
Mr. King only stared.
“Would like to touch them?” Amy asked coyly.
For the first time since she’d undressed his eyes met her own. “Would that be a problem?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course not.”
Mr. King hesitated, then reached out timidly. He cupped her breasts, feeling her velvet soft skin. Then, he squeezed gently and ran his thumb over her nipples, the same we had over his lips.
“Does that hurt?” he asked.
Due to the excess of hormones in her body, her nipples often did become very sensitive, even raw, but his touch was gentle and soothing. Amy was surprised he cared enough to ask about her comfort. Maybe the arrangement isn’t quite as formal as it seems, she thought.
She shook her head no. “You can taste them if you want.”
Amy stood perfectly still. She had never had a man, or for that matter a child, breast feed from her. She had no idea what it would feel like.
He went down on his knees in front of her like a supplicant. This rich and powerful man was suddenly a beggar at her mercy.
Amy knelt in front of him and stuck out her chest expectantly. The words were unspoken, but in their own way he was asking and she was giving permission to continue.
He moved towards her slowly. His lips curled around her nipple. Amy’s whole body tensed. He ran his tongue over her nipple and she giggled. The tension was too great.
Mr. King pulled away from her and smiled. “Relax.”
Amy took a breath and composed herself. “Go on.”
“I had a taste, that will suffice for now.” He rose and walked behind his desk.
‘A taste,’ Amy thought puzzled. She hadn’t felt anything. She looked down and saw a small drop of milk leaking from her nipple. When sexually stimulated Amy’s breasts often began lactating on their own.
“It was very good.”
Amy looked up flustered. “Sorry?”
“The merchandise,” he smiled. It was the wicked grin of a sinful boy, who knows he’s gotten away with a dirty deed. “You may get dressed.”
Embarrassed, Amy realized she was still on her knees. She picked up her shirt and buttoned it quickly.
Mr. King pretended to reread the contract, flipping through papers absentmindedly. In truth, he didn’t want her to feel ashamed or shy, so he took on a professional, disconnected air.
Inside, he was thrilled; not only was she beautiful, but her breast milk was sweet like butter cream. After they spent some time together, he hoped, Amy would be more relaxed and open to the experience. They were all a bit nervous at first. Some quit after a few sessions, but he saw a great potential in Amy. They were going to enjoy this together.
He cleared
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