Proxy Tales #02

#2- Milk Maid

Adam had been called to the South Pole with less than a day's notice.

"It's a once in a lifetime chance," he'd said sadly, "If I don't do it now it'll never happen."

It was likely a good thing there wasn't much time to talk about it -- to debate the pros and cons. Still, Violet found herself standing at the airport in a state of shock -- a one-month-old baby on her hip and the love her life en route to spend six months at the coldest place on Earth in a location where even email was barely available, let alone the internet.

At least money wasn't an issue. Adam's grant was funded by several major corporations. It paid surprisingly well and spouse subsistence was even included. She would be able to stay in their lovely little home in the woods on the outskirts of Portland, Oregon with the beautiful garden in back.

Yet, when she returned to their lovely home at the end of the winding road she had never seen an emptier place in her life.

At least Adam's father lived in the area. Adam's parents were divorced and his mother lived with her new husband back East. But Charles was a godsend. He was a quiet, reserved man -- who seemed to be good at everything. He had already helped get so many things set up around the house and promised to help as much as he could with Violet the baby.

With Adam gone, naps for Violet were in short supply. There was no one to change the baby at night, nobody to help with anything. Violet found herself growing more and more tired.

Thankfully, the baby somehow sensed her exhaustion and about a week after Adam's departure, little Ian finally slept all the way through the night.

As revitalizing as a solid night of sleep was - it didn't help her in the breast department. She woke with a piercing pain.

"Ouch!" she muttered as she woke up to throbbing breasts and a soaked nightgown. She peeked in on Ian and couldn't believe he was still sleeping soundly.

"The one time I need him," she joked to herself.

She rushed to the kitchen and started pulling out the parts of the pump from the dishwasher. She couldn't help but laugh as rivulets streamed down her boobs. She shrugged in resignation and pulled down her top, slapping the pump on to one engorged breast and just chuckled as the other breast continued leaking.

She'd just switched to the other one when she had the odd feeling of being watched. Looking up, she saw Charles standing outside the kitchen, watching her with sort of a deer-in-the-headlights look. She couldn't blame him, here she was a 5'2" pixie with tits about twice their already ample size, standing in the middle of her kitchen topless, milking herself like a cow on a dairy farm. She couldn't blame him for staring.

At first she considered covering up, but then just shrugged in helpless surrender. Charles gave her a wry, discomfited grin in return then headed off with his toolbox to fix the gate and garage door that she'd called him about.

Just as Charles walked away, Ian started to cry from the nursery.

"Now you're hungry," called Violet to the bedroom. "Ten minutes earlier, you would have saved me a lot of troubles and embarrassment!"

A half hour later, Ian was well fed and playing in his playpen. Violet was dressed, and coffee was steaming in the pot. Charles knocked at the door.

"Come in," she called. "Coffee's been waiting for you."

"Sounds good," said Charles, wiping his feet and stepping in. "The gate and door are fixed. I can't promise how long the garage door is going to hold up before it needs replaced, but it should last a while."

They made chit chat for a while, and then Violet decided to talk about the elephant in the room.

"Hey, sorry about the peep show earlier."

Charles blushed.

"Don't worry about it," said Charles. "I didn't want to knock in case one of you was asleep, so I came around back and... Anyway, that's about the most real skin these old eyes have seen in about five years.

"Not so old," said Violet. "You're only forty-five."

"Forty-six."

"And, I have a hard time believing you haven't seen -- well -- seen some action in five years.

"You'd be surprised," said Charles, still blushing. "I mean, Laurie left me, and we'd been together twenty years. Before that, it wasn't like I was much on the singles scene. People keep telling me to get 'out there' but when I do, I just want to get right back in."

"I understand," said Violet, sensing not to push things any further. "Listen, I know it's not a hot date or anything, but I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner on Friday. Ian isn't much on conversation, you know?"

"I uh, sure. Sure, that'd be great."

Friday came around. Dinner was not going according to plan. Ian was extra fractious as her grandmother liked to say, and everything that could go wrong -- did. She was normally a good cook, but cooking was all about timing and Ian was a six week old expert at throwing off anything related timing.

Charles arrived to find a smoky kitchen, a smoke alarm going off, and Violet trying to cook with one hand, Ian wrapped in a sling, his face pressed into her breast.

"I've got one question for you," said Charles.

"What's that?"

"How do you like Thai food?"

"I love Thai food."

"Good. Go finish feeding Ian. I'll order, then clean up the kitchen. I brought wine, by the way. I wasn't sure if you could drink it."

"One glass, no problem."

Violet fed Ian, freshened up, and stepped into an entirely transformed kitchen. The smoke was gone, the mess was gone, and Charles was setting out the Thai food which had just arrived.

"Ian isn't going to join us?" he asked.

"No, he finally went down. Thank god."

"He probably wouldn't have liked the tom kha anyway," joked Charles. "Too spicy. Nice dress, by the way."

"Oh, thank you," she said. "I just figured -- dinner, grownups, time to finally get out of a nursing gown or overalls. Mind you, it took some doing to get into it with the milk factory that has taken up residence in my chest.

"It suits you... the dress. The milk factory, well, it certainly enhances things, I guess you'd say."

Violet giggled at Charles' frank nature. They were certainly obvious. The dress she was wearing had shown a modest amount of cleavage before Ian, now her boobs were squeezed in and pushed up like a restoration corset.

"So," she said, "shall we eat?"

The wine tasted like ambrosia. It was the first taste she'd had in almost a year and it rolled around on her tongue in a beautiful way.

"Oh my god, that's good," she said, savoring each drop. "You have no idea what this tastes like."

"And you're sure it's okay for Ian. Doesn't it get into your milk?"

"It's sort of a myth really. Not to say a nursing mother should be pounding them back all the time, but it's not the crime you'd think. People have always had this idea that when the mother drinks, the alcohol goes straight to the milk. The most recent studies say that basically, if the mom feels tipsy, then that can make the baby tipsy. It's sort of a myth that the alcohol goes into the milk. If it's in my bloodstream, it's in my milk, if I sober up, so does the supply. For me it doesn't really matter, I've got so much saved up I'll just do a pump-and-dump tonight and tomorrow morning.

"Well, if you're going do that, why should you worry about just the one glass?" said Charles.

"I'll drink to that," said Violet.

Finishing the first glass, Violet was already a bit tipsy.

"Wooh, I'm a lightweight," she said, giggling. "That's what taking a year off of drinking will do to you."

They enjoyed the meal and conversation.

"So, Charles, it looks like you're a breast man," she said, having noticed Charles frequent glances -- and not into her eyes.

"I uh... to be honest, I'm having a hard time not looking given the size of your milk factory, as you put it. But to answer your question - yes, yes I am."

"Don't be ashamed," said Violet. "I'm just getting some clarification. Women notice these things, you know. I saw you sneaking a peek now and again even before these puppies blew up like balloons."

"Guilty, I guess," said Charles. "I do my best not to stare, but show me a woman in a low-cut top, and my manners tend to fail."

"Your manners are gentlemanly compared to a lot of the men I've met. I worked with a guy for two years, and I bet he still couldn't tell you what color my eyes are."

By the time they were polishing off the pad thai, Violet had finished her second glass. Her eyelids were growing droopy.

"Gosh Charles, I'm-really-tired," she slurred.

"I don't blame you," he said. "Why don't you go lie down for a little while."

"But the baby... "I'll feed him if he wakes up," he said. "Now get some rest."

She stumbled off to the bedroom, zombielike, barely aware of changing into her pajamas.

****

"Fuck!" she cursed softly. "Fuck, this hurts."

For the second time in less than a week, she woke up with breasts that were practically rigid from engorgement.

She looked to the clock.

"Double-fuck!" she cursed. It was almost nine in the morning. How had she slept through Ian. For that matter how the hell had she'd gotten to the bedroom.

She dashed into the kitchen to be greeted by the loveliest sight in the world. Charles was in the rocking chair and had a bottle in Ian's mouth. Her little son was looking up at his grandfather lovingly.

"I just figured since you were going to pump, I might as well let you sleep for a while."

"Oh my god, that is the nicest thing ever," said Violet. "Speaking of pumping... Charles interrupted her.

"I got it out of the dishwasher and put it together. I hope I did it right."

He had. Violet sat at the table and relieved the worst of the pressure. Once that was gone, she suddenly realized something -- the world was clear again -- normal, for once.

"Wow that felt good Charles. I had no idea how tired I was. Did Ian keep you up much?"

"Oh no. Just once at about two-thirty or something. We were up for half an hour or so, but he went right back down. I slept great in the guest room, the bed's a little softer than mine, but nice and comfy."

"I'm glad you slept good -- and thank you again so much. I feel like a normal person."

"My pleasure."

"Hey, do you want to come over again for dinner Friday?" she asked.

"I'd love to, but on two conditions."

"Sure, what are they?"

"One, you let me bring dinner. Two, I stay over again and let you recharge." "You have got yourself such a deal."

The following week was an especially hard one for Violet. After two months of smooth sailing, Ian suddenly became colicky. Night and day he was clingy and upset. By the time Charles arrived with dinner (Chinese food this time), all that Violet could do was hand the crying baby to Charles at arm's length and open the wine bottle right away. Knowing she had Charles helping for the night, Violet polished off another two glasses, which had an even stronger effect. By the end of the meal she was sobbing into Charles' shoulder, talking about how she'd never make it until Adam got back. Charles got her through the worst of it, and soon escorted her to her bedroom where she collapsed on the bed fully dressed. She was snoring within moments.

"And once again, I am human," she said, practically floating into the kitchen the following morning. "And would you look at who decided to calm down?"

Ian was crawling around in his playpen looking happy as a clam. Dared she hope the colic was a thing of the past?

She pumped a load out and then started making breakfast.

"I can do that," said Charles.

"That's okay," she reassured him. "Getting to use two hands without Ian clinging to me, that's more relaxing than you can imagine."

Bacon, eggs, the works. They sat down to a lovely breakfast.

"I made it," she said. "Finally, I can say I fixed you a real meal."

"A great one, too."

They were nearly done when Ian started to get fussy.

"I'll get him," said Charles.

"No, let me. I could use the relief."

"Already?"

"Like I say, it's a milk factory."

Violet retired to the rocking chair with Ian and Charles started gathering up the dishes.

"Charles, you don't have to."

"I know I don't have to, I want to."

It was a curiously comfortable domestic scene. Charles doing the dishes, Violet nursing her baby. If someone had looked in from the outside, they might have suspected a May-December marriage.

Both of them felt the ease of the way they got along -- but it was Charles who surprised Violet with a proposition. She had just put Ian down and returned to the couch when Charles came to sit beside her, looking a bit anxious.

"Violet, I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay. Shoot."

"I've been thinking. I wasn't a very good father."

"Adam would disagree about that. I've never heard him say a bad thing about you."

"Okay, maybe I should say I wasn't a very good father, or husband, when Adam was a baby. I could count the number of diapers I changed on one hand. I never got up during the night. My point is -- I hate seeing you this tired. I know how hard this is. Here are the facts. You've got a guest room. You need help. I live on my own. It's not like you'll be taking me away from anything other than 6 hours a night of ESPN and History Channel War Documentaries. If it could mean I'd be spending time with my Ian, and making up for my first pass with a baby, it would mean more to me than you can imagine. So, just think it over and..."

"Okay," said Violet, not even letting him finish.

"I promise I won't be anything but a help, and if I get too much I'll... "Charles, I said okay. I love the idea. I truthfully have had times over the past couple of weeks when I've doubted if I'll be able to survive. You're in."

While Charles was gathering up things from his apartment, Violet cleaned out the dresser and the closet in the guest room. By the end of the weekend, he was moved in and Monday morning found the house seeming like he'd been there for months. He had risen in the night to give Ian a change and feeding, and she had woken with Ian at six -- made coffee -- and handed him a steaming cup when he was done dressing from his shower.

They established an easy familiarity with each other. Violet lost most of her modesty when breastfeeding and Charles did his best not to stare. Charles soon stopped bringing his clothes into the bathroom, and instead returned to his bedroom in just a towel. In this instance, Violet did her best to keep her eyes averted. Sure, Charles had the start of a gut, but for his age he was in pretty good shape.

With Charles around, Violet was able to actually start sleeping again truly began to feel well-rested. A surprising side-effect of that was the sudden reappearance of her sex drive.

She had been deemed high risk starting in the fifth month, which ruled out sex altogether. She had 'serviced' Adam now and again - but just the act of giving him a blowjob had gotten her so excited that they decided to steer clear of anything at all. Once the baby came, the advice was to wait a month or more (though she was too sore to really think about it anyway), and then Adam was gone.

Lying awake one night a few days after Charles' arrival, for the first time in ages, she felt a true yearning. As she laid there on the bed, her hand drifted down and touched that wonderful button.

"Oh my god," she whispered to herself at the way it set her on fire. She dipped her fingers into her surprisingly moist pussy and used her own juices as lubrication.

Something about the way her nightgown was touching her was annoying, she couldn't describe why, but she sat up and threw it off so she could lay naked and feel the air all over her whole body. Once that was accomplished, her fingers got back to work and she was moaning as quietly as she could with the first orgasm in over six months building up in her body.

If the first alcohol had been intoxicating, the first climax was the equivalent of a triple-shot of Everclear. She felt her womb, her pussy, her legs -- everything seize up in a paralyzing way and she had to bite down on her hand just to keep from screaming. Again and again, it rolled through her body. When it finally subsided, she wondered what sort of crazy hormonal change had occurred with pregnancy and childbirth, because she'd never felt anything like it.

A new sensation came next, coolness. Her breasts and her chest were suddenly cold. Looking down, she saw an undeniable physical reaction in her new body. The famed 'letdown' that could sometimes happen when a nursing mother climaxes had kicked in with a vengeance. Her breasts had leaked volumes during her orgasm and now the cooling effect of evaporation almost making her shiver. With post-orgasmic drowsiness kicking in, she had barely enough energy to dry off and put her nightgown back on before falling into blissful, welcome sleep -- and eventually, dreams.

She raised her ass into the air, ready for him to take her from behind. She tried to turn to him to urge him on, but he wouldn't allow it. He grabbed her hair roughly and turned her away from him. She loved it when he was like this, so forceful, so in-command. His cock slid into her -- slowly at first -- but once he was past the point of initial penetration he slammed into her with a surprise move -- making her body rock and forcing an unexpected cry from her lips.

"Fuck yeah," she whispered in a husky voice. He slammed again. "Oh fuck! Do it again."

He did, his hips started slamming into her so hard that she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand. He kept going, attacking her with an almost demonic fervor. She knew he wouldn't relent until he felt her start to cum. As she drew close, he changed his rhythm, pounding into her with more forceful (if that was possible) deeper and slower strokes. These made her full breasts sway beneath her, slapping against her chest and brushing her chin.

With a final, violent plunge, he sent her over the edge. Her knees lost all strength and she fell to the ground -- crying out in pleasure as her body shook with each climax. He had fallen with her, and she could feel his cock against her ass, pulsating as he stroked himself to his own orgasm. She heard an intake of breath and turned.

"That's it, Adam. Cum for me, cum all over my tits"

"I will" he said in a familiar, but different voice, "but I'm not Adam."

She looked up to see that it was Charles, not Adam who had been fucking her senseless. She fell back in horror as the first blast shot out of his huge cock onto her face.

Violet woke up with a shock. 'It was just a dream' she told herself, but that didn't change how vivid the lingering images and sensations of the dream were in her mind.

Checking the clock, she saw it was later than she thought. She hurried out of her room, hoping Charles hadn't been up too long.

"Oh, excuse me," said Charles who was just emerging from the bathroom -- in only a towel.

"No, I excuse I... uh..."

Violet was blushing furiously and wasn't sure where to focus her eyes. Looking at his face, she could only remember the lustful expression she'd seen in the dream. Looking down... well, she could only contemplate how the bulge hiding below the towel might compare to what her imagination had cooked up.

"Vi, is everything okay?"

She muttered it was, and something about coffee, or something before scurrying off to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Charles emerged from the bedroom in his suit and tie, ready for a big meeting that day.

God he's handsome, thought Violet to herself. Stop it.

"How'd you sleep?" asked Charles.

"I didn't have any dreams if that's what you're asking."