33-Pack CHEATING Megabundle (17 page)

"Ain't nobody call me sir," I smiled and licked my lips. "You can call me Chuck."

"Chuck, please!" she bent and crossed her knees.

"What seems to be the problem?" I asked as I ravished her stunning body.

"My car's dead, it's raining, I'm soaked and I've really got to go pee!" She looked up at me, her eyes pleading with me.

"You sayin' you want to come in, take a tinkle and get yoself dry?" I asked. Like I said, I couldn't believe my luck.

She nodded. "Please! I'll do anything! Just let me in. I won't be able to call the garage 'till tomorrow and I have no where to go."

My smile widened as I stepped aside and pointed. "Sure, the bathroom's down the hall to your right. Just leave your clothes in the tub and I'll dry them up."

"Thank you!" She hugged me and raced off to the bathroom. I closed the door and thanked my God for what I was about to receive.

I don't know how long she was in there, but I brewed us up some hot chocolate and dished us some ice-cream. I hope she likes Neapolitan. After a bit, she emerged with a tiny towel wrapped around her chest. It covered nearly nothing but if she wanted to think that it would keep her safe from the big black man, that was her right to do so.

"Hot chocolate and ice cream?" I offered, handing her the bowl and mug. I hadn't had a female visitor to my crib - is that what the cool kids are calling it nowadays - in years. Not since before my mom passed anyway.

"Thank you, Chuck - was that your name? I can't recall?" She sat down on my humble sofa and looked up at me hopefully. She was a very pretty girl. Maybe five-six or seven. Blonde hair, green eyes, nice smile. She had very long, thick legs. When I say thick, I mean volleyball player thick, not 'I ate too many chocolate bars' thick. They were a powerhouse. But there was something she was hiding - a secret or maybe something else, but I could see it in her face.

"Yes, Chuck is right. What did you say your name was again?" I inquired. Of course, she hadn't spoken her name, but that was just a formality.

"Oh, it's Jacqueline. But my friends call me Jackie."

"That's a very pretty name. Sounds French." I studied her, as there was just something about her that I couldn't quite place my finger on. Then I noticed her eyes were wet. Funny that she'd used the towel to dry every part of her body but her eyes.

"Thanks," she said, sniffling.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I leaned closer and looked her in the eyes. "What is said in this house stays in this house. What's bugging you?"

She looked up at me and began sobbing. I moved to put my arm around her and felt her lithe body next to mine. That's when I noticed the bruises. "Oh God," I said, pointing to one.

"That's the time I fell down --"

"Bullshit!" I spat. "You're not clumsy, you were beat."

She began crying again. I held her close and felt her hot tears on my shirt. "Why don't you tell me the whole story?

"I'm scared," she said. I said nothing and waited for her to continue. Which she eventually did. From what I could piece together, she'd just fled from that abusive monster. The last straw was when they came and took her baby away. Now she had nothing to hold her there.

"Was he following you?" I asked, looking out the window.

"I don't think so, but he will."

"So, I take it, you need a place to hang low for a bit till the heat passes, right?"

She nodded and began crying again.

"All right," I said and saw that she looked up at me hopefully. "You can stay here. But on one condition."

"What's that?" She asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"This place hasn't had a woman's touch in ages. Can you spruce it up for me? I'd much appreciate it."

She smiled widely, jumped up off the couch and threw her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek and lips. "Yes! Thank you! You're my hero; my knight in shining armor!"

"Let's not get too carried away," I said. But I did enjoy her lingering kisses.

*****

As the days went past, we got into a routine. I'd wake up to the smell of fresh coffee, bacon and eggs. Already, the house had been transformed. It no longer looked like a bachelor's pad, but more like a home. I smiled as I watched her sing, dance and whistle while she worked. I also watched her large, milk-filled breasts dance and sway as she skipped around the house.

That first night had been very uncomfortable. There really was nowhere else to sleep but my queen-sized bed. She didn't have much of a problem with it; but when you're a horny, middle-aged man like me, you get used to being alone to perform certain...activities.

I had waited until I was pretty sure she was asleep before I began stroking myself. I studied her beautiful, peaceful face as my mind whirled with forbidden fantasies. When I was nearly finished, she snuggled up to me and I could smell her womanly essences. Her hand was so close to my cock, that I couldn't help but move it on top of it. Oh God, that got me off quick. I spurted all over her fingers and when I went to clean them, she'd moved and I couldn't get to them. So she slept with my cum coating her hand all night long. I got horny again just thinking about her inhaling my manly scent while she slept.

The next morning I awoke worried that she somehow knew, but if she did she never let on. I noticed that as the days past by, she started becoming more loose and open. Even though her shirt and shorts were clean, she'd often walk around the house nude. I don't know if she was just trying to entice me or if she was just used to this sort of thing.

I'd sit back and watch the ballgame while she puttered around the house. My cock was rock hard nearly all the time. I don't know if she realized what kind of an effect she was having on me. Maybe she thought that no one would be interested in a woman's large, lactating breasts. Boy, she was wrong about that.

At first, I'd only peek out of the corner of my eye or when she walked by. When I realized that she was completely unashamed of her milky mammaries, I began watching unabashedly. Half the time I didn't even know what show I was watching. The way she was constantly flitting from task to task, reminded me of a hummingbird.

It wasn't until her milk started dripping from her engorged nipples that I began to get really uncomfortable. I was jerkin it several times a day at this point and was hornier than a loon.

Jackie was constantly complaining about her full breasts. Sometimes that's all she'd talk about. How she wished the milk would just dry up and go away. She absolutely hated expressing them as it was just such a pain and a chore.

That was it; I'd had enough and couldn't stand any more. If this caused her to leave, then so be it. I cleared my throat, muted Family Feud and offered my services.

"Jackie," I said nervously. "I know you're having problems with your milk, but wishing it would go away isn't the answer."

"What is, then?" She asked, sitting down beside me. My God, her protruding milk jugs were within touching distance.

"Let me help," I suggested, steeling myself for the shit-storm that I was sure was going to follow.

"What do you mean? How can you help?" She asked inquisitively, her naive green eyes fixed on mine.

Oh God, how do I tell her. "Jackie," I said, placing my hands on hers, "I've enjoyed your company very much over the past week or so. But you've got to realize what your big, milky breasts are doing to me." I moved my gaze down to my jutting cock.

"Oh!" She covered her mouth with her hands and her eyes went wide. "I'm so sorry! I'll start covering up."

I laughed. "No, don't be sorry. And please don't cover your beauties. But I can help you with your problem."

"The leaky breasts?"

I nodded. "I don't know if you realize, but many men love women's breast milk."

"They do? I had no idea." She shook her long, blonde hair.

"Let me express your milk for you. In fact, I insist on it. You've done enough around the house. Now it's time that you get pampered." My heart raced in my chest as I hoped that she wouldn't reject me.

She scrunched up her nose. "You want to milk me?"

I laughed at her innocence. "In a manner, yes. In fact, you can stay here as long as you like if you let me milk you and treat you like a princess."

Her eyes lit up and she began giggling. "You really think I'm a princess?"

I nodded. "Here, let me show you." I grabbed some baby oil and began rubbing her neck. "I really like having you around and would be very sad if you left. Please tell me you'll stay."

She thought about it for a moment. "Okay, as long as I can still cook and clean for you. I like doing that."

I hugged her from behind and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you. You just made an old man proud."

"You're not an old man!" she teased. "How old are you?"

"Thirty five. Now you just relax and let ol' Chuck massage away your aching muscles." She leaned back and visibly relaxed. She was very tense and I knew just the techniques to loosen her muscles. Her skin was creamy smooth under my expert hands and her head was soon lolling from side to side. Of course I started longingly at her luscious breasts. What man wouldn't? They were very large, veiny and milk-filled. I'll just bet they were tender. I watched in awe as a large droplet of pure mother's milk swelled on her nipple, then once it became too large, gravity took over and it trailed down the curve of her delicious breast, coming to rest on the underside of her boob where it hesitated and then dripped off onto her belly.

"The thing is," she said as I watched another droplet form and fall, "my neck is always going to be sore because of the weight of the milk."

"Do you want me to express them for you? I'll be more than happy to."

"You don't have to, I mean they're just breasts, right? You were just kidding about men liking breast milk, weren't you?"

I kissed her ear and whispered. "I'm not kidding. I like breast milk as much as you like cleaning." Which was true, she seemed like a clean freak.

She looked up at me, blushing furiously. She looked all of her age, nineteen, and I wondered how on earth someone could abuse her. "I'd love you forever if you massaged my milky breasts."

"Let me grab a bucket," I said as I practically raced into the kitchen and brought back a suitable milk pail.

"What's that for?" she asked, perplexed.

"To capture your succulent milk." I handed her the bucket and instructed her to put it under her breasts.

"Aren't you just going to dump it out when we're done?" She still had a lot to learn.

"Hell no!" I said. "I'm going to store it and pour it on my cereal, mix it with cocoa and drink it all up. I guaran-damn-tee you your breast milk won't go to waste."

"You're going to drink it? Like a baby?" Her green eyes were wide with shock. It was almost comical the way she emphasized the last word. She was as green as she could be. This was going to be fun.

"Ha! Babies ain't got nuttin on an ol' black man. Your tit juice is like a delicacy. Babies aren't the only ones who cry when denied their mum's milk."

She stared at me uncomprehendingly for several moments. Finally, she said, "I don't believe you. You're not going to drink my milk. What are you really going to do with it?"

"Of course I will. What do you want me to do, prove it?"

She folded her arms across her chest, just under her breasts, propping them up. "Yeah. I want you to drink a full glass of my warm mother's milk. I'll bet you can't."

"What do I get if I win?" I asked, licking my lips.

"I don't know, what do you want?" She said mischievously.

"How about I get to feed straight from the source. I'll drink a large glass of your breast-milk and if I do I get to suck your breasts anytime I want. Deal?" I was shaking with nervous anticipation. I hoped she didn't think I was overstepping my bounds.

"Okay, mister, you've got yourself a deal. I don't think you can do it."

"Deal!" I scoured the cupboard for a large glass and set it before her. "Let me express it," I said as I gently placed my hands on either side of her large, succulent boob and pressed down softly. She let out a loud moan as my hand released the white liquid that had been trapped inside her breasts.

"That feels really good," she said, relaxing and closing her eyes.

I sprayed and squirted her beautiful breast milk into the glass, my mouth watering as the naughtiness of the situation struck me. Oh God her hefty, milk-engorged breasts felt good in my hands. When one began to empty, I switched to the other.

"Now watch!" I said as I hefted the milky fluid to my lips. I locked my eyes on hers as I put the glass to my lips. Her milk was warm and extremely rich. My cock sprung to life as I realized that I was likely the only man who'd ever drank her delicious nectar.

"Oh wow, you're really drinking it. You're probably just forcing it so you can suck my breasts. Men!"

"No," I said as I sat down next to her. "I really honestly love your tit juice." She giggled when I called it that. "Try some, you'll like it."

She looked up at me with the deer in the headlights look. "Drink my own milk?"

"Of course," I said, excitedly bringing the glass to her lips. She wrinkled her nose, but placed her lips on the glass. I nearly had a heart-attack when I watched her own breast milk slide seductively between her lips.

I don't know what came over me, but watching her drink her own milk caused me to lose control of my emotions. I waited until her mouth was full and then I pressed forward and placed my lips on hers, startling her.

She started to swallow, but I whispered for her to give it to me and she did. It was the most sexy, incredible experience I'd ever had, exchanging mother's milk from the mother's mouth.

"Wow, that really does taste good!" She exclaimed once our lips untangled. She wanted to drink the rest of the glass, but I reminded her that I had a bet to win.

"Why don't we share it and we'll just say you won!" Her whole demeanor changed once she'd gotten a taste of her own milk.

"As long I can indulge in the spoils of my victory," I said.

"You!" She swatted me playfully.