The Fetish Dictionary takes one sexual “philia” and explores it through a short fictional scenario. This week’s word is…
“…sexual arousal by breastfeeding on a female’s breast.” (Source)
“Hello Jeff. Come on in, baby.”
Miss Evelyn opens the door to her apartment and lets me inside. The curtains are drawn and I can smell that she’s made dinner not long before I came; pasta? Something with garlic. I put an envelope of money on the counter and she closes the door behind me.
She charges $60 for a session, which is better to me than therapy, a massage, a fine meal, or a drug. It only takes about ten minutes to get where I want to be.
Miss Evelyn sits on the couch and pulls down her cotton sundress, releasing her two breasts. What can I say about that beautiful flesh? Those dark, hard nipples. Tits so large and full of naughty milk that they almost sit horizontally on her chest. I love them, I dream about them. They smell like milk soap and feel velvety in my hands and mouth. She beckons me over to lay across her lap and I cross the room to meet them.
While I get comfortable on the couch, Miss Evelyn puts on a reality TV show and adjusts the volume. She’s not inattentive, just following my instructions. My memories of breastfeeding are like a movie that plays underwater and in darkness; garbled and blurry. But there was always a TV, always a couch. This is the way it’s supposed to happen.
“Mother,” I whisper, my breath warming the flesh of her breast. I can see dark veins in the bulb of her right left tit, and I take the nipple into my mouth with my eyes closed. With my other hand, I grab her right tit and squeeze until a trickle of milk runs down my fingers.
My mouth moves on its own, pulling the tip of her nipple deep toward my throat. My tongue moves in a wave, kneading the flesh so that the milk travels closer and closer. Soon, I can taste the rich milk; Mother’s milk. It is warmed by Miss Evelyn’s own body and delicious, a perfect sweet cream.
The moment that the milk is on my tongue and moving down my throat, my cock hardens. Nothing else but this milk can do that for me, the miraculous liquid. With Evelyn focused on her TV, I reach into the front of my pants and pull out my cock to stroke it. There is still milk on my fingertips, and I use it to lubricate the cock as I rub.
The stream of milk is thick and unceasing. Miss Evelyn wants to look detached, but I know it feels good for her. She has kept her milk flowing many years after her children grew up and left the house, perpetuated by others like me who found her in a nearly indecipherable back page ad. “Mother Here, Mother Has It.” I’ll never forget that headline.
I pull on my cock faster, harder. My sucking mouth matches the pace of my hand. My stomach fills with warm milk. The thought of this precious treat gives me intense euphoria, and I feel an orgasm arriving soon. I moan and the sound is muffled by Miss Evelyn’s thick breast. I cum into my hand in hot streams, perfectly in time with the spray of breast milk filling up my mouth.
Miss Evelyn adjusts as I stand up to clean myself in the kitchen with a few paper towels. I gulp down the last mouthful of milk and relish the leftover taste in my mouth.
“You’re welcome, baby.”