Milky Milf and the Talent Scout

Ram

I had taken a break to the food court in the local mall. I hated the big city environment and everyday meetings with lawyers. The cold sandwiches and cold offices were just not for me. I just wanted to get away and mingle among the locals. Also the idea of a fat juicy burger was more tempting than what they were serving in between meetings

It was here that I saw her. She was just picking at her salad, not really here for the food but more the rest from shopping as she had a number of shopping bags with her. She had thick black hair that had been styled. Her makeup looked subtle but she had spent a lot of time to make it look this way. I wondered if she was secretly seeking attention from men or a man in particular. She had beautiful light creamy skin and subconsciously this was a factor in beauty for me as I was often called ugly for my dark skin.

She would rub her vacant ring finger from time to time. This was a tell and a sign that she had recently separated or even become divorced. Her breasts were straining against her dress. She had a scarf that draped across her chest in that way Indian women wear it but it drew my eyes more to her breasts.

I saw a bag among her collection of bags from a new mom shop and my dick became hard at the idea of her being a milky divorced MILF. I was getting a semi as I discretely observed her in the mall as I began to develop a fantasy around her.

She looked like she was between late 20's and early 30's. The mall was sprawling with people but she had my focus as I examined every little detail.

If she was seeking attention from a man she would not be looking at me. I was mid 50's and my love of burgers would tell you I was overweight. She was simply out of my league but I lived this little fantasy in my head.

She caught me staring but instead of being offended she simply looked away shyly. This reaction sent another rush of blood to my dick. Something about her reaction made me feel like acting bold.

I took a sip of my coke and I thought fuck it. I walked over and sat down from across her.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked as I sat down. She was shocked and looked around to check it was not some candid camera scenario or if anyone had set me up.

I took out my card from my wallet and slid it across the table.

I was the director of a clothing line and it seemed to add some authority to my presence.

"I am sorry for approaching you like this. I am always looking for fresh talent. We are looking for a new catalogue model and I thought your look would suit our brand perfectly," I said. I could not believe the words coming out of my mouth. I was just acting out spontaneity and I had never done anything like this. I was surprised by my own actions.

"Is this a joke?" She asked slightly perplexed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Is this a prank? You know, those internet pranks," she asked as she ran her fingers over my card and the embossed lettering.

I smirked in a dismissive manner.

"A man my age does not do pranks. Google us or whatever you need to do. You have my email if you are interested. But I am only here for a few more days. If I don't hear back by tomorrow then I will presume you are not interested in this opportunity," I replied before getting up and walking away.

I didn't want to play too hard for her attention and make my plans so obvious.

The following night I received the email from gorishweta96@... I liked that it was not a formal email address. It made me more confident about my presumptions. She had clearly spent some time thinking about my approach and the fact that she only replied at the last minute suggested it was a last minute decision to decide. The fact that she had sent the email at 1.05am made me imagine her thinking about it all day and night before she took the plunge.

"Dear Mr. Ram,

I met you in the mall yesterday. I don't know if you remember me but you said I could model for you and I may have been somewhat rude.

I want to apologize if I appeared rude at the mall. I, sometimes receive the wrong kind of attention from men. You were lovely and I want to apologize once more. Let me introduce myself, my name is Shweta and I am interested in the modeling opportunity if it is still available.

Best wishes,

Shweta xoxo"

The xoxo at the end sent a rush of blood to my dick as I could sense she was trying to get on my good side. I sent a rather direct response back about needing to meet her tp vet her.

*******

Shweta

I did not know what to think when the older man approached me in the mall. I had noticed him looking over earlier but I did not want to make an issue of it. It was something I was familiar with, being approached by men and it had caused many difficulties in my life.

I was happily married but my husband was deeply insecure about being married to me. I knew I was considered aesthetically beautiful but I never cared much for looks in the opposite sex. I was taller than the average Indian girl at 5'8" and I had fair skin which was considered a particular plus among Indians but it did not mean much to me. My husband was not conventionally good looking and this fed into his insecurities. He could not accept that I was simply happy with him and found him attractive.

He would scream and shout at me if a man approached me or talked to me. I tried to placate him and try to reassure him that he had nothing to worry about as I would not be interested in other men. His actions would escalate no matter what assurances I gave him. At one stage his friend was visiting with his wife and I was playing host but he proceeded to accuse me of flirting with his friend because I laughed at some joke when I was playing host. He would later accuse me of sleeping with him because he saw us talking at a friend's party.

The breaking point came when I was pregnant and he accused me of cheating once more and wanted a paternity test. This led to our ultimate divorce as I was unable to deal with his paranoia.

I was lucky in a sense that I received a reasonable divorce settlement and income that meant that I was not destitute. In truth I was struggling in my post divorce life as I struggled with having a baby and I become more dependent on my parents. I moved back in with my Mother but I was using her as a crutch as I was afraid to move on. My Mother pushed me to find a new man before I was considered an old maid and my looks faded but the trauma of my last relationship made me despondent at the prospect of another man in my life. This was more painful as I still had those romantic and sexual feelings within me. My breasts were expressing milk following the birth of my son and my son was still breastfeeding. I would also need to express some of the milk using a breast pump as I was producing too much for my son. Sometimes when I did this, my mind would drift off into thoughts about having a man drink the excess milk from my breasts. The thought alone would make me so aroused that I would need to touch myself between my legs. It makes me sound like a pervert but the idea of breast feeding a man really aroused me. Maybe it was all my hormones and my current condition but I just could not shake this feeling.

When Mr. Ram approached me at the mall I had presumed the worst. I wondered if he was another creepy man that wanted to get my attention. But there was something about his demeanor that compelled me to take his approach seriously. He was much older and usually men that looked like him would not approach me. He had a serious demeanor about him and he did not seem like the usual young men that approached me that were just trying their luck. I know it sounds conceited and I am not one to care about a person's looks but I know it takes confidence from a man to approach me and ugly older men usually lack this confidence.

The idea of modeling made me nervous. I still had some pregnancy fat and it made me insecure. My breasts were larger than they had ever been and due to the milk I had to wear extra padded bras. Despite my reservations I could not help but google the company and Mr. Ram himself. I spent hours looking up Mr. Ram on the internet and the more I looked into him the more intriguing I found the proposal.

Out of all of the people he could have approached, why did he approach me? I asked myself. I was considered pretty by conventional beauty standards but no one had ever considered me good looking enough to be a model.

As I looked into Mr. Ram's company I noticed that the type of clothing they sold was focused more on lingerie and nightwear side of things. This made me even more nervous. Would I be able to model these with my breasts leaking and my body?

As I expressed my excess milk that night I thought about the idea of modeling for him. Maybe I could even wear some lingerie that showed my leaking breasts. Would this arouse the fat, ugly man? I don't know why but the idea of this fat, ugly man feeding on my breasts really aroused me. I would never expect a partner of equal looks to consider this but I just see more perversions from a fat, ugly man.

I am sat on my bed in just my panties as I let my pump slowly drain my breasts. My hand is lightly massaging my mound as I think about Mr. Ram feeding on my breasts. I am squeezing my mound together with my fingers. My loneliness and current condition has made me fixated on these perversions.

I cannot help myself and I need to urgently finger myself to clear the fog that is over my head. Since giving birth I find that I am producing a lot more juices when aroused and my panties are soaked already. It is almost as though my body is craving that feeling of being pregnant once more.

My finger easily slides in and out of my juiced up cunt as I imagine Mr. Ram feeding on my breasts. The image of holding his ugly bald head against my breasts as he sucks and drinks my milk drives me over the edge as I climax in a powerful orgasm. As the fog lifts I am able to compose the email for him.

It is late in the evening when I decide to email him about the offer. I feel guilty about doubting his intentions and I am trying to be extra nice in the email.

I receive a rather direct email in return saying he will need to vet me before they can sign me up and asks to meet at his hotel room at 8.00pm. That dread returns to me at the idea of meeting in his hotel room but I am afraid of being rude once more.

Before I leave for the hotel, I express my milk to avoid any embarrassment during our meeting.

I arrive at the hotel slightly late and ask reception for his room number. They say he had left a message to give me the room key and asked I wait in the room. I am 30 minutes late by the time I arrive at his room door. I knock on the door but there is no response so I decide to let myself in as instructed.

As soon as I enter and close the door I am shocked to find Mr. Ram step out of the shower dripping wet. His fat cock was just bouncing as he walks. He is drying his head with the towel and I am unable to take my eyes off his cock. It is the first time I am looking at one since my bitter divorce.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" He exclaims as he is shocked to see me. He quickly wraps the towel around his waist covering his fat cock.

"The receptionist said. The receptionist. She said," I stammered over my words.

"It is fine. Let me get my robe," he says as he walks into the bathroom to collect his robe.

"I am sorry if I gave you a fright. I was expecting you at 8 and well I presumed you were a no show after the way you behaved in the mall," he says as he rejoins me in his white bathrobe.

"I just had some things to do before I could leave the house. I am sorry I am late and I am sorry about walking in on you. I tried to knock but I guess you were in the shower. I am really sorry," I apologized.

"Apology accepted. Now let's get to business. Please take a seat," he said with a warm smile that put me at ease.

"What did you want to see me about?" I asked.

"You can relax. It is not some interview. I just want to talk and ask some questions," he says and he has a way of putting me at ease. He has a self-assured confidence about him that makes me feel at ease.

"You can ask me anything," I say in a giggly manner as I have a nervous excitement.

"Are you single, married etc? Is there a jealous husband or boyfriend that will be against you modeling?" He asks and it seems a bit direct and personal. I can understand why he may want to know as men like my ex-husband can be possessive so in a way I feel his questions are understandable.

"That will not be a problem. It will be 6 months in a week since my divorce," I reply trying to be light with the tone of my answers.

"No boyfriends since?" He asked with a raised eyebrow doubting me.

"No boyfriends. Men are not interested when you are pregnant," I reply revealing a little of my insecurities.

"Hmm. When did you give birth?" His eyes roll over my body and the 'hmm' makes me think there is something more than a casual interest at the idea of my pregnant body but I ignore this inkling and give him the benefit of the doubt.

"It was 3 months ago," I reply feeling self conscious.

"Wow. Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I just mean I wouldn't be able to tell looking at you. You look amazing," I have to admit there is something about getting a compliment from a man that gives me butterflies but in this instance there was something more. My pussy convulsed at hearing it as that fantasy of him drinking my milk returned to me.

"You are kind but I am still trying to lose some pregnancy fat and get my body back," I reply trying to stay humble.

"I hope you don't mind me asking but what caused the divorce? It sounds like you were deep in your pregnancy at the time," he asks with sincerity and this helps me put aside any reservations I may usually have had about getting this personal.

"It is hard to explain. My husband never seemed comfortable with me as his wife. I mean, he was just never happy. He would shout at me if a man looked in my direction and if a man talked to me about the most innocuous thing he would fly into a rage. I am sorry Mr. Ram for getting so personal." All of a sudden I am feeling vulnerable in his presence.

"Just call me Ram," he says as he reaches out and holds my shaking hand. It helps ease this feeling inside of me. "I won't judge you for anything you say to me. But I can see that to be with such a strikingly beautiful woman, it takes a strong and secure man." He says validating my feelings.

He relinquishes his hand from mine but I am reluctant to let it go for some reason. The compliment once more sends that feeling to my pussy. Even now I can feel myself begin to moisten.

"It was a difficult time but the divorce was for the best," I reply.

"Do you mind if I ask if you are breast feeding?" He asks and I feel more self-conscious. I don't want to answer but he has a demeanor that I feel compels me.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" I ask. He looks more intensely at my breasts as I give him this new information. There are fluids excreted by my pussy as his eyes rove over my breasts. Would he be interested in my perversions? I wonder to myself. I glance down and notice his cock peering between the robe. I try not to look but can't help but glance at it. The fantasy is growing stronger in my mind.

*****

Ram

"I don't think it will be a problem but I have a confession to make. I don't know if you found time to search the company and what we do. Well, we specialize in lingerie mainly. We also have a line of sleepwear but as you can imagine the clothing is quite revealing. Is that going to be a problem?" I ask knowing fully well that she had searched the company and my details.

"Oh. I didn't know. My body is not what it was," she says almost fishing for compliments. I can see her glancing at my cock from time to time. She is wearing a long knee length dress but due to the size of her breasts she is unable to hide her cleavage.

"I don't know how your body was. But I like how it is. For the modeling, I mean. I will do a physical with you later. Just taking measurements etc and I can judge better then," I say and she swallows at this information. I am trying gauge if there is an interest from her.

"What is your availability for travel?" I ask as I intend to get her alone in hotel rooms in different cities in my attempts to seduce her.

"Hmm. I will need notice but it can only be for short periods as I am still breastfeeding my baby," she replies and my eyes go to those fat udders.

"Oh," I say as I am lost in thought. I look at her body and think what a pity that she is not being regularly fucked.

"How long have you been celibate?" I ask and she looks surprised. I regret the question as it reveals too much of my sexual intentions but my mind cannot stop thinking about wanting to fuck her.

She takes a deep breath and I am tempted to apologize for the question but I hold my nerve. I want to test these limits.

"12 months," she finally answers. My cock twitches as I think what a waste that her body has not been used in over 12 months.

"Are you content with celibacy?" I ask and I can sense something building inside of her. Is it sexual frustration or annoyance at my persistent personal questions?

"I don't like the word celibacy." She wants to leave it to me to interpret her words.

"I don't like celibacy either. Especially when I am around a beautiful woman like you," I reply.

She can't help but smile at my compliment and cheeky comment. It is a risqué comment but I am willing to take risks at this stage.

"Do you mind if we do the physical part of the vetting?" I ask. Something I am eager to do.

She nods her head. I can sense an arousal within her as she becomes quieter. I let my robe part as I stand up and help her up. Her eyes once more go to my dick and I love knowing she can't stop herself from looking at me.

I tie my robe up and feign that it was an accident. She seems convinced enough.

I pick up a tape measure to measure her. I ask her to lift her arms up. I notice she has shaved her armpits. I wonder if she did this for me or did she like to keep shaved and I wondered if she kept her pussy shaved.

I wrap the tape measure around her waist and it meets at the front by her belly. I move lower inch by inch as I measure her. She is taking deep breaths as I move to just above her mound.

I have let my robe come apart and I am pressing my hard cock against her ass from behind. She pretends not to notice but I can feel her rub her ass up and down against my cock. It is a subtle movement from her but it does not escape my attention.

As I wrap the tape measure around her once more I use the outside of my thumbs to squeeze her mound together through her dress.

There is squelching sound from her mound due to how wet she is and a quiet subtle moan from her lips, "Uff!"

I repeat it once more and this time she presses her ass against my cock and grinds hard against it. Another moan escapes her lips, "Uff! Oh!" She moans as her head rocks back slightly. I smile to myself knowing my actions are having the desired effect.

I move the tape measure up to her breasts and begin to measure. To my disappointment she is wearing a large padded bra and I yearn for a firmer hold of these udders.

I wrap my robe around me to hide my dick as I decide to test these limits once more.

"Shweta, I am looking at these measurements and they do not seem right. I think this dress is too thick. I will need to measure you without the dress. I know this might be a bit much and we can do this another time. I come back to this city in a few weeks and maybe I can fit you in then but I would rather do this now if you are ok with it," I try to add the pressure on. I can see the glazed over look in her eyes. There is an arousal building inside of her that I hope to exploit.