tagFetishLa Leche League Pt. 03

La Leche League Pt. 03


The League of Extraordinary Women - Part 2

This is a restart/ recast/ renewal of a series I abandoned a few years ago.


Shirley was pleased with the turnout at La Leche League on the cold, snowy evening. The last of the women were finishing up pumping. The group discussion session was over and Shirley began to think about the "special" group that met upstairs after the facility was technically closed. She had seen two women go upstairs and she thought she saw Steven go upstairs too. Shirley turned the key in the lock behind the last of the "regular" members. She thought about the women who had been there that night. None of them seemed to be having any unusual problems with post partum or nursing. A couple seemed to have a twinkle in their eye when the discussion of getting back to sex came up in group. Shirley recognized the signs of a woman whose man was into lactation or its side effects, namely bigger breasts. No, none of these ladies needed the extra support that could be found upstairs.

The low, warm lighting revealed a woman Shirley recognized from over a month ago. Shirley had approached Cheryl, based on comments she had made in the group discussion about lack of sex and how she linked that with being a new mother in general, and lactation specifically. She told Cheryl she was welcome to come to the "unofficial" group that began at what was supposed to be the La Leche League facility closing time. She could simply go upstairs and get comfortable. She could pump milk for storage or donation and Shirley would be up to discuss what could be offered. Now, Cheryl was over in a corner in one of the overstuffed chairs. The low hum of a breast pump was the only indication that she wasn't just sitting there. She was also rubbing her thighs together enjoying how the tingle between her leg complimented the one in her bosom as her milk "let down" and flowed. She cupped each breast purposefully to squeeze lightly to aid the flow. All this was hidden under her oversized sweatshirt.

Shirley was about to walk over to Cheryl when she was approached by Elise. Elise was smiling that sort of "secret smile" young women get when they have new boyfriend. Elise moved very close to Shirley and whispered in her ear, "My husband told me he had no interest in me sexually as long as my milk flows, just like that. Stupid machismo bullshit. It relieves his guilt over getting handjobs in the strip club parking lot while his wife is has this curse."

Shirley saw that Elise was not angry as she spoke these angry words. She was happy to vent them out. Shirley looked at Elise and asked, "So, now what?"

"I was going to ask you that," Elise shot back. "What does Stevie-boy do for me?"

"Well, he prefers, and we would prefer you using, Steven. And he may not do much of anything for you. I think you should have a talk with him and get to know him and yourself a bit," Shirley always worried that one woman could get hurt and bring publicity where it was not wanted. She tried hard to monitor things closely, but emotions are not always subject to control.

Elise walked over to the sofa and sat opposite Steven. He had been watching her talking to Shirley, but had not heard anything.

"So, Steven. I guess you are really into breasts, huh?"

Elise and Steven stared at eachother for a long moment and then began to snicker.

"Well, yes, yes, I guess it's fair to say I am really, well, you know, into, the, uh, breasts," Steven replied in his best James Stewart imitation. They laughed again.

"Why does one man find bigger breasts sexy and another man find it repulsive?" Elise blurted out, trying to keep her voice even.

"I can only speak for me," he began. "I was a child of the 60s and 70s. Raquel, Ginger, Jeannie, Loni, Wonder Woman, all of the sex symbols that I remember were big-busted women. When I watched TV and movies and a big-busted gal came on, I would 'feel good'. Then, I noticed, my thing would get stiff. It ached. It felt good to rub it, but it was confusing what this had to do with big boobies."

"Then, somewhere along the way, I discovered Playboy. And I was just conditioned that boobs should be as big as human heads. Or thereabouts. As, adolescence approached, I witnessed certain girls mature earlier. I wanted to be close to them, but they were hounded by the more popular guys and they didn't seem to totally enjoy it. When I finally found girls who would date me, I wasn't in a position to pick and choose, certainly not based on bust size. But, some of the first girls I had experience with were very busty. I remember one seemed like she was kind of heavy, but it was all in her chest. Another one had 'bad skin' and wore baggy clothes all the time. They saw how excited their boobs made me and suddenly they were much more willing to make a show of stripping or of touching themselves. That just reinforced my desire for more big tits."

"By the time I was in college, I was dating women who were a bit older and some of them had kids. A few of them were nursing. My attraction for busty women kind of led me to big, lactating women. And so that's a long answer to your short question."

"And other men?" Elise wondered aloud.

"I've heard guys tell me Pam Anderson wasn't sexy. Or that 'more than a handful is a waste' or lots of other things. I guess it's personal taste, but to me, the number of heads that turn to get a look at a nice big set of tits is way larger than the number of heads that don't turn. There's a reason all the Miss America girls look like that. There's a reason boob enlargement is the #1 elective surgery."

"And what about the milk? How sexy do you find a cow?" Elise shuddered as she spat out the words.

"I guess you don't know it, but there are lots of people who enjoy sexual roleplay based on the woman being owned property, walking around nude, always available for sex, big milk-filled tits hanging down for a twice daily milking. They call themselves 'cows'."

"I thought I was a freak to even think about sucking milk from a woman's tit. I had first gotten that 'funny' feeling from looking at a big-breasted girl in Playboy when I was maybe 6 or 7. I didn't see a naked breast in real life until I was 15 and caught a shot down the housecoat of a neighbor-lady as she fumbled for change for the newspaper. I touched and kissed and sucked on the tits of my first girlfriend the next year. She was cute. She had big boobs for a girl of that age, but even then I fantasized about women with much bigger breasts, filled with milk for a big baby like me."

Steven paused to collect himself. He had said more than he normally would on a first meeting with a woman here. He continued, "Each new girlfriend I dated, most pretty chesty gals, I would want to be blatantly open about my love of big tits, to talk about it. To hear what they thought, not just grope around and hope I did what they wanted. And each time I would chicken out. I wouldn't use the dirty words I dreamed of hearing them say. I wouldn't even ask them clinically what they thought about having tits that were so big. With only one girl, who I was into just for the sex, was I able to blurt out, when I was high and drunk enough, that I loved 'her big fucking tits'. And I don't even know how she took it. I had my eyes closed. I had said that just as I reached my point of no return, face buried in those huge, warm, soft, mountains. Whew."

"Finally, when I could never settle down and be happy, I arrived at having to admit that I could not have a normal, exclusive, personal sexual relationship. I had a drive to suckle from women who wanted to share that most intimate aspect of a relationship between two people with me, knowing what I was getting from it. That was and is important to me. They have to know I am into them having big tits and lactating and that it turns me on like nothing else. I don't need them to do more than to feed me. I don't ask more. That is why I am here."

"Steven, I want to feed you. I want to get you hard and get you off knowing you don't mind what I look like."

"Elise, that's way too fast. Listen to yourself. I "don't mind what you look like" because I find you attractive. You have a great body and a lovely face and you know I like ladies who have a lot up top." Steven smiled at Elise. She smiled back.

"Why don't you pump your milk and I'll watch. That would turn me on. It would relieve your breasts and maybe give you back a sense of being sexy, if you see what it does to me."

Elise reached into her bag and retrieved a handheld breast pump. She lifted the baggy sweatshirt she wore but could not get the right amount of exposure to Steven's gaze. In the end she removed the sweatshirt and opened up the flap of her nursing bra. The revealed breast was full and tight. It's deep coral-colored aureole was drawn up in a tight circle around an inch-long nipple, a perfect cylinder. Its tip was leaking milk by the drop. Elise cupped the exposed breast and fitted the pump over the nipple and activated it. The little motor labored to suction against the yielding flesh of Elise's tit. The nipple enlarged and seemed to explode as needles of milk squirted from every pore, especially from the tip and the sides of the nipple near the tip. Again and again Elise broke and reformed the vacuum that tugged on her breast. Elise massaged the larger mass of the breast to coax its contents toward the teat to be siphoned off. She was intent on her own activity to the point that when she looked over at where Steven was, she was almost startled to see him there. Then she was startled to see his pants around his ankles as he jacked his 6 inch cock, staring at Elise's tits giving up their milk to the pump.

Elise smiled at she saw this man who she had only met a couple of times and only spoken to twice sitting a few feet from her jacking off while watching her milk herself. Elise could feel the wetness in her pussy. It was warm and it spread from deep inside her to the point that Elise thought she must be dripping down her leg. She saw Steven staring at the veins and stretch marks that decorated her breast. She saw how magnetized he was to every movement of her tit. She saw how his cock seemed ready to burst from its skin it was so hard. She saw a huge glistening drop of pre-cum covering his cockhead and she knew this man was totally in heat for her. He wanted to shove his rock-hard cock down her throat, into her pussy or ass or plaster it between her milk-cow tits, she could tell. And she wanted that all too.

Elise broke the pumps seal and opened the flap on the other cup of her nursing bra. It was soaked with milk that had leaked from her other nipple as the first had been mechanically relieved of most of its contents. Steven gasped at what he saw. The newly exposed tit was gushing forth milk with an increasing force and volume. It was squirting out of the tip of the nipple in an arcing stream and from the underside of the nipple in a stream straight down. It was also spraying out continuously from many pores in the tip and sides of the nipple. Elise put the pump over this milk fountain and began to work it in a businesslike way. The other tit, still exposed to view, was relieved of its urgent pressure, but was far from empty. As Elise concentrated on the pump and her left breast, her right was dripping, then fairly dribbling a steady stream of thin, sweet, whitish milk. Steven's mouth instinctively puckered as it would if he was a few feet closer and were to collect that mother's milk for himself. How he would love to feel that milk fill his mouth. He could smell Elise's body. He saw her reach her free hand down to push two fingers into her wet pussy. Milk from her right tit dripped down her arm to mingle with her pussy's juice. Elise's finger found her g-spot and she gave it a quick series of circular rubs and it set her body convulsing. Her hand slapped at her clit and Elise's pussy gushed streams of her cum, soaking the sofa cushion. A groan from Steven alerted Elise to look up just in time to see four big arcs of cum shoot from Steven's cock as he stared at her tits. Elise knew this man was emptying his balls in his desire to suckle her milk and to fuck her wet pussy. She felt like sexier and more powerful than she had since she had become pregnant. If Hector didn't want her, then she didn't want him in some bullshit macho trade-off with whores. He could be a man to her or he could pack up and go. Elise knew men like Steven were out there. She didn't have to settle.

Steven looked around for something to clean himself up with. A familiar hand offered him a warm moist washcloth. "Cheryl? Is that you?"

To be continued...

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