Build, Swell, Release

You've been out for a few hours. You left me with instructions - three bottles of water should be gone when you get back. No release. No cum. I can play with my pussy if I want. You know that in a few hours, my milk will have built up to unbearable pressure, and the thought makes you hard as you go about your errands.

You come back and the lights are low. I don't say hello when you come in, and you quickly see why - I'm curled up and napping, naked. The last half-empty bottle sits where it fell out of my mouth. You can see that my breasts are full, firm, starting to leak. You put your bags down and slip your shoes off, slipping into bed next to me. I wake slightly, smile at you, close my eyes again. You pick up the bottle, slide your arm under my neck and nudge my lips with the nipple. I suck, barely awake. You watch me take it in, knowing how full I must be, but I don't fight it. I swallow again and again.

While I drink, you run your hand lightly over my belly, fingers skimming down to my bladder, pressing it gently to make me moan against the nipple.

When the bottle is empty, I open my eyes. My nipples are leaking, little streams of milk running down my belly. You watch the droplets leave wet streaks on my skin, down to my bladder, which is tight, distended. You know I must be uncomfortable, but I simply wait, not begging, not whining or crying or moaning like I usually do when I need relief. Either you will grant me release, or you won't. I'm giving myself over to your control, and this is what it looks like: riding the swell of my belly like a wave, embracing the tight, urgent desperate need.

You reach down and rub my clit slowly and lightly. I spread my legs and sigh happily as the warmth of arousal spreads through me. I grow wetter in my pussy, an endless well of slick. You return to it again and again, slow and light, not leading me towards a cum but simply re-engaging my body. Each time you brush my clit, a small burst of milk streams out of my nipples. You grab another bottle and hand it to me.

I take it, but before I put it to my lips I glance meaningfully over at the pile of towels. You grab two and I lift my hips. Now I'm ready. I start to suck. You slip two fingers into my pussy and stroke me from the inside. Still sucking the bottle, I take hold of your other hand and place over on my tight bladder. It's a little sticky with milk. You press down and I start to release, water in, water out, drinking and releasing simultaneously. You glance up at me and say "stop," and I instantly cut off the stream. You rub my clit a little more, building the tension - exquisite - and then - "release." I let out a sigh and start again, faster this time, more urgent.

"Stop." You can feel my muscles contracting around your fingers to stop the flow. I'm gripping you as hard as I can to keep from releasing. "Release." I've barely relaxed before - "stop."

You press down on my bladder and I strain not to let go. The pressure is exquisite, you draining me slowly this way, exerting total control over my body. Finally, you give the command, and I release the rest while you press against my g-spot. By the time I'm done, I'm struggling to keep my breathing even as you bring me closer and closer to orgasm. I can feel the squirt coming, the peculiar rush of urgency, and my milk is leaking, leaking, my pussy is wet, wet, wet, and I'm sucking the bottle so hard I almost pull the nipple off.

I cum hard, silently, pussy streaming, stomach contracting, milk spraying, mouth still full of bottle. I lie back, breathing hard as you pull your fingers out and replace them with my cock and panties.

Now you finally come to the last thing I need, and you roll me over and set me up on my hands and knees, taking the bottle from me as you slide under into your favorite position. My nipples drip milk on your face before you latch, milking my breast with both your hands, taking from me what's yours.