Love Potion #9

She was sighing a lot while I fed, and the sighs kept getting louder and more frequent. A moan happened, and then another one. I snuggled her more.

"It feels so good this morning," she explained, a little breathlessly. "It's like, every time you suck on me, every suckle, I feel it between my legs, too, like it's tugging on me."

I felt her shifting around on my lap a little bit, restless. She was squeezing me more tightly.

Then: "Ohmygod!" Her body was shivering, and I sensed a slightly stronger milk flow. "Ohhhhhh ..." she breathed, jaggedly. The whole episode lasted maybe half a minute. I wanted to release her to ask if she was OK, but I just couldn't let go, and besides, she seemed fine, just like she was having a good time.

Her body relaxed, and I heard (and felt) her breathing slow down. "It just happened," she whispered.

"Mmm!" I still didn't want to release.

"So, that's never happened before." Her voice was full of wonder.

OK, now I had to let her areola slip away. "What?"

"I came," she said.

"Like, you actually came? You had an orgasm?"

She was nodding, still a little breathless. "Yeah. Yeah, I came. It was out of nowhere, like, no warning. It felt different. I was seeing things." She took a minute to completely catch her breath.

"It wasn't really a normal orgasm. It was different. I've"—she was smiling sweetly, looking into my eyes—"I've never had an orgasm that felt like that, really. I mean, I've heard of this happening before—there's a lady in town who has orgasms sometimes when she breastfeeds babies, but that always seemed weird to me. You've met her, actually. She says she can't help it, but, y'know, still seems weird.

"Anyway, when I breastfeed, I mean, it feels kind of good, but not in that way, you know? I guess I've heard stories about girls breastfeeding their boyfriends and having orgasms. Myths and rumors, that's what I thought. I never expected it to really happen."

Molly looked me. "I was seeing colors. Like, colors that don't even exist in nature." She was shaking her head slowly.

"You saw colors."

She spoke softly, reverently. "Yeah. Weird ones. I don't think they really exist, but I saw them."

"Let's try to make it happen again," I said, and I pulled her other areola into my mouth.

"OK," she said, sounding a little bit excited, and a little bit mystified by the experience.

It took maybe 10 or 15 minutes—which was fine, because I would have fed for that long no matter what—and Molly did indeed come again. No one was touching anything between her legs, or even her other nipple, by the way. This was all from my mouth on her one breast, suckling enthusiastically, that's what did it. She shuddered and moaned and jerked as it happened.

I tried to time it—one, one thousand, two, one thousand, and so on—and counted 38 seconds before the orgasm completely waned and her body relaxed. Her milk flow definitely increased while she was coming; there were moments where I could feel it actually spray into my mouth. The whole thing turned me on so much that I felt like I was ready to come, just from being so turned on by what was happening to her.

"Oh my god, we have to do this forever," she breathed, laughing a little. "They're the best orgasms. I just feel it so deep. And I keep seeing things."

"Like what? Colors?" I said, half laughing.

"I can't explain. Just—things. I can't believe this is happening, that it keeps happening. God, I love it so much."

I cannot describe to you how gratifying it was, the idea that I could breastfeed from my girlfriend, my childless girlfriend, and that doing this gave her multiple orgasms. That thought kept zinging through my head, and it was such an amazing and beautiful idea. Everything about it was really pleasant for me, too: the warmth of our skin pressing together, her soft sighs, the amazing taste of her milk, the closeness we felt. Molly started calling her nipple stimulation climaxes "cuddlegasms," which I thought was sweet.

I kept at it, switching breasts again after a couple minutes. It wasn't a long time after that she started moaning and writhing. She sounded almost frightened when she moaned, "Oh, god. Oh, god, I'm coming again."

Later, Molly explained: "It starts in my nipples, and they were always pretty sensitive, but I didn't know they were that sensitive, you know? But when I have these kind of orgasms, I don't feel it just in my boobs. It spreads. My clit starts throbbing. And I feel it in my belly, deep in my belly, these huge contractions, kinda like the contractions I feel normally when you're nursing, but they're even bigger. They're so intense that it's almost like they should hurt, but they don't—they feel good. Does that make sense? It's intense.

"And then it keeps spreading all over my body; it's all warm and tingly and I feel like it's going to melt me away. It's almost overwhelming, you know? I start seeing all these colors and it even feels like I'm tasting the colors on my tongue. It's so different, and it's just—all I can think is that it's a gift from God because it feels like a miracle is happening inside me."

Giving her these kind of orgasms was more than I could handle. My cock had gotten so hard it felt like it would burst. I lifted Molly's petite body and jerked her wet panties down out of the way. I positioned her on top of me, freed my penis, held her hips over the tip, then lowered her slightly so that I was poking at her vulva. She got the hint, of course, and awkwardly spread her legs just enough that I could find her vagina and push inside.

She was always wet when we did it, but she was really wet this time. My dick slid halfway into her, about four inches, all at once. She let out a loud moan.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," she breathed, "it feels amazing. You don't have to go that slow, I don't think." She took a second and managed to pull the panties off her leg.

I pushed into her further—really, I just let her hips drop lower and let my dick slip further inside. I had about two inches of shaft still in the open air. I lifted her hips a few inches, then dropped them back down, and then repeated. She was not very heavy, but there was no way I was going to be able to keep that up for a long time.

"God you feel so good inside me," she was saying. "I love when our bodies are joined."

Molly shifted, straddling me again, putting her weight on her knees so she could thrust her hips up and down.

"I've never done this," she told me. "Never been on top before. I think I like it."

"You're doing great. Just keep going."

I was watching the action between our legs, eyeing that thick bush of hair pushing its way down my shaft. She was able to go all the way down now, taking my entire length inside her. That was exciting, and I could definitely feel how deep I was going, the long, wet stroke as she slid. She was so petite; I could scarcely believe she could take so many inches of my cock like that.

"Going up and down feels really good," I told her.

"Yeah it does," she grinned.

"Try this, though—try just thrusting your hips, like, grinding on me. Like, push your clit onto me."

Her hips gyrated and shifted, a little awkwardly at first, and then she found a rhythm. I watched her as she rode, clearly having caught on; the noises she made and the fervor of her thrusting made it obvious she'd mastered it.

Pumping away, Molly's panting and moaning got louder and more rapid. Then, she was coming again. She announced it, and went through her routine of shudders and jerks and aggravated yelling that bordered on a scream. Tiny droplets of milk appeared at the blunt ends of her nipples, and dribbled down her lovely flat belly. She started squeezing her breasts and tugging on her nipples, and light sprays landed on my chest and even my face.

I was having a hard time not coming. That problem was compounded when she started moaning, "Come in me! I want your come inside me. I want to feel it."

Seconds later, I did.

She said she couldn't actually sense the sperm ejaculating into her, but she did have an awareness of new warmth, deep inside her. "I can feel you," she said, her voice tender.

---

Molly's house did not have a TV. There was no cable service at all in Watley, but some folks had DirectTV or some other kind of satellite. Not her, though.

She did have a lot of books, and we spent time in her bed, naked with her favorites.

She loved the whole Harry Potter series, of course, but she also loved classics like Wuthering Heights and Sense and Sensibility (neither of which, I quietly admitted to her, I had read). She flipped through various books and read passages to me, delighted that I was willing to listen with interest.

"You know," she said to me at one point, "we really shouldn't be using the L word yet, I don't think, but—let's just say that it's way past 'like.'"

My favorite part was laying around with her, being naked. I know, I'm a guy, so of course that's the part I like, right? But I don't mean just merging our bodies, or even the feeding, as hot as that was. I just liked being near her, and having full access to all of her body. I liked feeling her soft warmth pressed up against me. It didn't have to lead anywhere; it was just really nice to feel that close to her, to know every inch and every detail.

I spent a lot of time playing with her body hair. I'd was used to how it looked, and I felt tempted to touch it, stroke it, toy around with it. I liked the hair under her arms a lot; it was nothing at all like mine. It was light and wispy and blondish-brown and fun to touch. (Molly would inevitably say that it tickled, of course.) The landscape of light brown hair on her inner thighs was also fun to play with, and she clearly liked how that felt. The thick, full mound of hair between her legs was my favorite; it also ran down to her ass crack, and I got a lot of enjoyment out of playing around down there. (And she got a lot of enjoyment out of it, too.)

At one point, I was going down on her, holding her ass cheeks apart, bathing her hairy little asshole with my tongue while she squealed in delight. I thought: you know, this is the most intimate I've been with any girl, ever. It wasn't just one thing we did, like me eating her ass, or her swallowing my come, but everything we did that made it intimate. And we did everything. Well, we didn't try anal sex at that point, but yeah, almost everything else. And it was fun, and pleasant, comfortable, and familiar. If I wanted to put my finger into her ass or her vagina while I was breastfeeding, I didn't need to ask. Not only would she be OK with it, but she loved it, and she was vocal about that. Her body was given over to me, and mine to her.

We fucked a lot that day, of course. Or, uh, we joined our bodies a lot, as she would put it. You'd think that both of us would be sore in our nether regions, but we really weren't. I figured it was because Molly would get so wet. I mean, she would get so wet it would almost drip, and it was thick and oozy, the perfect lubricant. I was getting a little achy—my dick was—but that wasn't skin soreness. It was achy from having spent so much time being compressed inside her vagina. Imagine someone grabbing your dick and squeezing it and holding it really firmly—that's what it felt like inside. She had stretched lengthwise to accommodate me, but her vagina was as tight as ever. I had to practice a lot of mental games to keep from coming. Once I did let myself come, I could feel it aching a little from having been squeezed.

Molly had worried about my size—that she would wind up walking like a saddle-sore cowboy for days after we did it. She didn't, though. She said she was a little tender and just slightly achy, but that it went away pretty quickly. "It was almost like we hadn't even joined bodies," she told me, "and of course that just made me want to join bodies again."

I fed from her a lot that day, too. Molly ate a regular lunch, but my own food came from her breasts. Seriously, I was able to take enough milk that I was not the slightest bit hungry for most of the afternoon. Any time I did feel a hunger pang, her breast was right there to feed me. She loved that, too, of course; I made a point of feeding long enough to get her into the moaning "trance" she described that could lead up to her having breast orgasms. I could think of nothing that was more exciting than to feel her coming just from me nursing on her nipple. It felt like the consummation of our breastfeeding relationship. She gave me her food, and in turn it gave her exquisite pleasure.

But, even just laying close together while she breastfed me was really hot. Of all the intimate things we did, for me, this was might have been the most. All my senses were fully engaged: I would look at the breast I was suckling, glance up to see her pretty face and notice she was giving me an adoring smile; I would hear the quiet, wet sounds of my mouth at work, feel her nipple and areola stroking my tongue, feel her fingers in my hair and across my cheek, feel the soft, hairy wetness between her legs, smell sex in the air, and even notice a light scent of milk, which I swear I could sense. Everything in me was engaged with Molly's body. Even when my penis wasn't inside her, even though we were just breastfeeding, I felt deeply connected to her, as if we were melting together, as if our bodies had truly merged.

---

We spent a lot of time talking while we lay together—I haven't mentioned that, but we spent as much time chatting as we did the other stuff. I quickly realized that she was so comfortable with me that I could talk about anything, ask anything.

"What's it really like," I said at one point, "you know, like, nursing a tiny kid? When you're not a mom? Do you feel like a mom when you're doing that?" We'd talked about this before, a little, but I couldn't help still being curious. To me it was like asking a bird what it was like to flap its wings and fly. Maybe I didn't want wings, but I was curious about what it was like to soar at will.

She smiled. "I feel sort of like a mom. Sorta. That part of it, anyway, the feeding part, I definitely do feel like a mom when I'm doing that, yeah." Giggles. "I feel like a woman, a full-grown woman, for sure. Maybe that's a better way to put it. But, yeah, I have to admit it's sort of strange, really, because it's like I've got a foot in the door but I'm not in the house, you know? For sure, I know what it feels like to have a baby completely dependent on your body. And that feels—well, it's a bunch of things, really. It's a little bit scary, which I know, you're thinking, 'Why?' But it is, it's a tiny bit scary. It's so much responsibility. And I know my body can handle it; I do it all the time. But you still feel this weight, you know? Like, I am the only food source right now for this helpless little thing.

"But it feels really special, too. Like, it's wonderful to be able to help out the mothers, and help a small child. It really does feel like a superpower, too. Like, look what my body is doing! I feel kind of super-human in a way, like I'm really using my full potential as a woman, you know? It makes me really glad we moved back. When my daddy told me we were moving back to Watley, it felt like the worst thing in the world. I was just so crushed already, I missed my mom so much, and then suddenly I was leaving all my friends behind, too. I felt like dying, myself."

There were tears, and I snuggled up to her, holding her.

"But then, Watley is such a different world compared to Santa Monica, so it was like my old life was really just a dream. It helped me sort of get over it, at least as much as you can get over something like that. Anyway, being able to breastfeed children has been, like, one of the best experiences of my whole life. It's just amazing. I don't know how else to put it. It, like, made me a woman, a real woman.

"And the way my boobs are shaped, the way my nipples are and everything—I'm sure you've noticed—Sarah always says I have the perfect boobs for breastfeeding. The way they swell up, like, well, like this"—she circled a puffy areola with her finger—"it's easy to get a baby to latch onto that. Easier, anyway. Sarah's good at getting a latch, but she says she has to work harder than I do. So I do like that about my body. It feels like I was made to use my boobs this way. I definitely love doing it.

"And then being with you, sharing my milk and my body with you, that's been a really huge deal, too. I mean, everyone always talked about 'joining bodies' and merging with guys, breastfeeding their guys, and I sorta got it, but not really. And now I do. When you're inside me, it feels like, you know, this is how things are meant to be. This is what's right. And I feel that same way when I'm feeding you, just so close to you."

She gave me a soft, shy smile.

"Yeah, well, meeting you has been pretty big for me, too," I said. "More than just 'big' but I have a thing for kind of understating stuff."

She just kissed me.

"And doing everything we've been doing, like, everything"—I glanced at her breasts, as if she wouldn't have gotten the point anyway—"it's amazing and, like, I dunno, sort of life-changing. You're different than any girl I've ever known, and I mean in a good way, an amazing way, you know? And I feel like I've known you forever, already."

"I feel like that, too," she said. "I mean, look at me, I'm a fucking mess from all these orgasms you're giving me."

"Um," I started, then paused for a second, then just said it. "Have you always been this, you know, this orgasmic?"

Molly laughed, clearly a little embarrassed. I was about to tell her she could just ignore my blunt question, but she was already answering me. "Yeah, I kinda figured it out a long time ago. When I merged the first time with that guy back before we left, I wasn't surprised that I came, even though we weren't merged for very long. I figured that was kinda normal. I had no idea that so many girls can't come, or they can, but they can't from joining bodies. They need all this extra, um, stimulation. And I don't need that, but I never realized I was anything special.

"I always touched myself a lot, and I was used to having lots of orgasms, so I just figured that it was normal that I'd have orgasms while we were in union. Or, uh, 'fucking' I guess we used to call it. It's funny, I'm so used to 'joining' and 'merging' and 'union' that I never think of the other words anymore. Like, saying 'having sex' just does not occur to me. Totally indoctrinated, I guess." She laughed a little.

"Anyway, yeah, I've always been like this," she said. "I didn't know there was anything different about me. I don't even know that I'm really that different. I know some girls who really have trouble, but, like, Sarah says she usually comes when she's with a guy. Maybe not quite as much as me, but she does usually come a few times. Like, she says she'll have two or three while they're just fooling around and stuff, and then maybe two or three while she's joining bodies with him. And that's not bad! It's not all about quantity. I think it's quality and quantity, you know?"

I nodded, having zero experience with the quantity part. I certainly understood in theory. "I can imagine."

"Thing is, I mean, I won't lie, I love my orgasms. They're wonderful. But the best part of sex for me—especially today—is that I love the closeness the most. It's even more than just closeness, really. I totally understand why we call it 'joining bodies' now, making a 'union'. I do start to feel like we're becoming one body, and I just love that so much. It feels so good, maybe even better than an orgasm. Different, but maybe better. Is that too corny? It's how I feel. It's just so amazing to feel like we can merge ourselves that way, you know? And the orgasms I'm having, they're just so beyond.