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It was a set-up that verged upon brilliance, I think.
Wedged between the cushions of the couch: a sturdy plastic cup with a tightly fitted lid. Snaking from the straw hole in the cup: a length of very thin plastic tubing. In the cup: creamy warm milk.
Necessity forced us onto a scattering of cushions and old comforters on the floor, all topped off with a waterproof blanket. Our location actually was a good thing, as it allowed gravity to assist the flow.
I held the thin tube next to the peak of my nipple as my friend kissed, licked and sucked his way across my breast. I cradled his head in the crook of my arm as he finally reached the goal; he opened his mouth and sucked hungrily at the augmented nipple.
We’d fretted over the size, length and placement of the tubing beforehand. Would the flow prove too difficult to pull through? Would it rush out too fast? Would there be a drought or a flood?
I will admit that in this case, the milk ran more freely than we’d hoped. The slightest suck brought forth a fountain of white that spilled from his lips and across my breasts.
We made the best of it, as we try to do about every situation. I rubbed the excess milk across my nipples. He kissed away the trails that ran down my neck. For every bit licked, sucked and kissed away, I allowed more to splash onto my skin.
Eventually he dripped thick drops of it onto his cock and demanded that I suck them away. I did, after first admiring how one drop clung to the tip of his slit.
And then, sticky-happy and with a cat milling about with more interest than would seem entirely appropriate, he bent me over the couch and had his way with me.
Milk melts right away in the shower, I’m pleased to report.
Next time, perhaps, we’ll find a thinner and softer tube, one that can be kinked closed when necessary. The cat will be shut into another room. And I’ll clean up the tubing immediately rather than the next morning (ew!).
But for a first attempt we did just fine, I think.
Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride;
milk and honey are under your tongue.
The fragrance of your garments
is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
–Song of Solomon 4:11
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