The Tempting Lactation Affair
Under the dim glow of the hotel lounge lights, Lara sipped her gin and tonic, the ice clinking softly against the glass. The conference had dragged on all day—endless PowerPoints and forced networking—but tonight, the bar pulsed with a different energy. Sweat and cologne mingled in the air, a heady mix that made her skin prickle. She crossed her legs, feeling the silk of her dress slide against her thighs, and that’s when he approached.
Damien. Tall, broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair cropped close and eyes like smoked whiskey. He’d been glancing her way during the keynote earlier, that subtle smirk promising trouble. “Mind if I join you?” His voice rumbled low, vibrating through her chest.
She nodded, heart quickening. Why not? Her kid was with the sitter back home, and this trip was her escape. They talked—work bullshit at first, then deeper. His hand brushed hers as he reached for his beer, the rough calluses on his fingers sending a spark up her arm. By the second drink, laughter flowed easy, bodies inching closer on the leather stools.
“You’re tempting fate sitting here alone,” he murmured, lips close to her ear, breath warm and beery.
Lara shivered. Tempting. The word hung between them like smoke. She hadn’t felt this pull in years—not since the divorce, not since the baby days faded. Upstairs, in her room, it ignited.
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Chapter 1: Sparks in the Suite 🔥
The elevator ride blurred into heat. Damien’s mouth crashed onto hers the second the doors shut, tongues tangling slick and urgent. She tasted salt from his skin, the faint bitterness of hops. His hands roamed—gripping her ass, hiking her dress—as she pressed against the hardness straining his slacks.
Her room. Keycard fumbling. Door slamming. They stumbled inside, the carpet muffling their gasps. Cool air from the AC kissed her flushed cheeks. He peeled off her dress, bra hooks snapping free. Her breasts spilled out—heavy, full from neglect since weaning her son months ago. Rare leaks during arousal, sure, but nothing serious.
Damien groaned, palming them rough. “Fuck, these are perfect.” His thumbs circled her nipples, hardening them to peaks. She arched, moaning as he sucked one into his mouth—hard, vacuum pull that made her toes curl in her heels.
They hit the bed, a tangle of limbs. Clothes shed in frenzy: his shirt ripped open, buttons pinging off the nightstand. Her panties yanked down, exposing her slick folds. He dove between her thighs, tongue lashing her clit like a man starved. Wet slurps filled the room, her musky scent thick on the air. Fingers plunged into her heat—two, then three—stretching, curling against that spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
“God, you’re soaked,” he growled, chin glistening. She bucked, thighs clamping his head, chasing the build. But he pulled back, climbing up, cock thick and veined, slapping her belly. No condom—raw risk thrilled her. She guided him in, gasping at the burn-stretch of his girth splitting her open.
He thrust deep, grunting with each slam. Bed creaked rhythmically, headboard thumping wall. Sweat slicked their skin, bodies slapping wet. She clawed his back, nails drawing red lines. Orgasm hit like lightning—walls pulsing around his pistoning length, juices squirting in hot spurts.
But midway, as he latched back onto her tit, sucking fiercer… a bead formed. Creamy white on her areola. She froze mid-moan, but pleasure overrode. He switched breasts, devouring, and she glimpsed it again. Milk? No way. Wiping it discreetly, she rode harder, cresting another wave as he swallowed audibly.
Her climax shattered her—body convulsing, a flood soaking the sheets. He followed, roaring, pumping ropes of cum deep inside. They collapsed, panting, his mouth still nursing lazily at her nipple. Warm trickle leaked, but she ignored it, blissed out.
Morning light filtered through curtains. Lara woke alone, sheets tangled, body sore in the best ways. A sticky spot on the pillow—faint milky stain. Heart skipped. Shit. Damien’s number scrawled on hotel notepad. Tempting to text, but shame prickled. Instead, she showered, hot water scalding away evidence, steam clouding the mirror where her reflection stared back guilty.
Chapter 2: Echoes of the Night 💋
Conference sessions dragged. Lara sat in the back row, thighs clenched, replaying flashes: Damien’s stubble scraping her inner thighs, the obscene squelch of his fingers in her cunt, that swallow. Arousal throbbed constant, nipples chafing against lace bra. Leaks? Paranoia made her check—damp spots forming. Fuck.
Lunch break. She spotted him across the ballroom, laughing with suits. Their eyes locked; he winked, heat flooding her core. Phone buzzed. Text: Morning wood thinking of you. Round 2 tonight?
Fingers trembled typing: About last night… did you notice anything… off with my breasts?
Reply instant: Like the sweet taste? Yeah. Accident first time. 🔥
Her pussy clenched hard, panties flooding. Sweet taste? You’ve been drinking my milk?
Guilty. Turns me on like nothing else. You?
She bit her lip, glancing around. People chattering, forks clinking plates. Arousal warred with shock. Milk production had stopped—or so she thought. Post-divorce dry spell, hormones wild. But him nursing? Like her son, but filthier. Wrong. Tempting.
Not sure. It’s weird. Embarrassing.
Weird hot. Meet me. Poolside. Now.
She went. Hotel pool shimmered deserted midday, chlorine sharp in nostrils. He lounged in board shorts, muscles oiled, bulge evident. Pulled her behind palms. Kissed bruising, hands under her skirt. Fingers found her drenched. “This says you like it,” he whispered, circling her clit.
“Damien… stop…” But legs spread. He dropped to knees, hiking skirt, burying face in her pussy. Tongue speared deep, lapping her cream. She gripped fronds, stifling moans as orgasm built fast—pool water lapping gently nearby, lounge chairs empty witnesses.
He stood, freeing cock, bending her over lounger. Entered from behind—brutal, balls-deep thrusts slapping ass. “Your tits leaked last night. So fucking hot.” Pinned her, hand mauling breast. Squeeze—milk droplet pearled on nipple through blouse. She came screaming silently, walls milking him dry as he flooded her again.
After, breathless, he licked his fingers clean. “That kink? Owned it since college. First girl who lactated during sex… hooked me. Yours is sweetest.” Vulnerability in his eyes softened the crude admission.
Lara pulled clothes straight, guilt twisting with afterglow. “I need time.” But her body hummed, craving more.
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Chapter 3: Confessions Over Cocktails
Evening keynote blurred. Lara fidgeted, bra soaked now from constant arousal. Milk scent faint—sweet, almondy—haunted her. Damien cornered her post-talk, arm around waist possessive. “Dinner? My suite.”
Resistance crumbled. His room dwarfed hers: king bed, city view twinkling. Champagne popped, fizz sharp on tongue. They ate room service—steak juicy, rare, juices mingling on plates. Talk turned personal. Her: single mom, ex cheated, breastfeeding guilt lingering. Him: divorced too, kink hidden from wives, therapy fodder once.
“It’s power. Nurturing twisted filthy.” His gaze dropped to her cleavage. “You’re tempting me to beg.”
She flushed. Word again—tempting. Stirred something primal. “Show me how much.”
Clothes vanished slower this time. He worshipped: lips trailing collarbone, tongue flicking nipples till they wept. Milk beaded generous now, induced by his mouth. He latched proper—sucking rhythmic, drawing streams. Glug-glug audible, her hand in his hair fisting tight.
“Fuck, Damien… that’s my…” Moan choked off as pleasure stabbed core. Pussy dripped untouched, thighs slick. He milked one tit while fingering other, droplets spraying arc. Vulgar, beautiful. She pushed him flat, straddling face. Ground clit on nose, his tongue probing ass while sucking tit from below—awkward angle, intense intimacy.
Orgasm ripped—no hands on clit, just nursing pulling strings inside. She squirted on his face, sweet milk flooding his throat. He flipped her, cock slamming home. Fucked missionary savage—deep, grinding cervix. “Feed me while I breed you.” Tits bounced, milk spraying with each thrust. Cum exploded hot, painting womb as she shattered again.
Post-coital haze. He cradled her, suckling softly, aftercare tender. “Never faked it. You’re real.” Tears pricked her eyes—connection beyond kink. But dawn loomed. Conference end tomorrow. Back to reality?
Poolside Tease
Later, midnight swim. Pool glowed blue, water cool silk on skin. Bikini top strained, nipples leaking into fabric. Damien cannonballed, splashing her laughing. Underwater, he untied strings, mouth claiming breast. Bubbles rose as he drank, her legs wrapped waist. Surfaced gasping, fucking against tile—water churning frothy. Climax echoed off tiles, hidden from night staff.
Sated, floating, she whispered, “This can’t end here.”
Chapter 4: Homebound Hunger
Flight home turbulent, mirroring turmoil. Lara clenched thighs, replaying pool fuck—chlorine taste lingering, pussy tender. Texts flew nonstop: Miss your milk already. Come over tonight?
Her apartment: kid asleep, sitter gone. Damien arrived 10pm, pizza box steaming garlicky. Ate on couch, son cooing from crib cam. Taboo thrill—mother feeding lover milk meant for baby.
“Pump for me?” he asked, eyes dark.
Bedroom. She straddled him nude, pump whirring. Bottles filled white—oz after oz. He upended one over cock, stroking milky lube. “Suck it clean.” She did, kneeling—salty cum precursor mixed cream. Gagged deepthroat, tears streaming.
He bent her doggy, ass high. Spanked red welts, then dove tongue-first—rimming sloppy, fingers in pussy ass dual. “Gonna fist you while you leak.” Lubed hand slow, knuckles breaching ring. Stretch burned ecstatic, tit milk dripping sheets from auto-letdown.
Cock replaced fist—anal raw, no mercy. Balls slapped clit, her screams muffled pillow. “Breed my ass, milkman.” He did, flooding bowels hot. Pulled out, cum bubbling, made her push while he nursed pussy-clean.
But conflict brewed. Guilt gnawed—son next room. “This tempts disaster,” she admitted dawn, him spooned behind.
“Worth it.” Kiss on neck. Bond deepened, kink ritual now.
Office Intrusion
Work next day. Lara’s marketing firm buzzed phones, coffee bitter. Damien “dropped by”—unexpected client pitch cover. Bathroom stall quickie: her bent sink, skirt hiked, his cock reaming while milking tit into his palm, slurped off like shot.
Risk amped pulse—colleagues feet away. Came whispering curses, milk soaking blouse.
Back to Chapter 2 | Jump to Chapter 5
Chapter 5: Total Tempting Surrender 🔥💋
Weeks blurred into addiction. Weekends his loft: BDSM lite. Nipple clamps tugged chains to collar, milk forced out rhythmic drips into bowl. He lapped like dog, then fucked face—throat bulge visible, gagging milk-cum cocktail.
“You’re my dairy slut,” growled, vibrator grinding clit while strap-on harnessed—pegging her reverse. Ass stuffed plug leaking lube, she squirted arcs hitting mirror. Sensory overload: leather creak, ass slap, milk sweet air thick, pussy squelch loud, tastes mingled filthy.
New heights: Park midnight. Bench fuck, tits out under coat. Passerby shadows heightened fear. He nursed public, cock buried, her biting fist silent scream. Cum leaked thighs walk home.
Emotional pivot. One night, post-three-hour session—double penetration toys, milk enema play (her squirts white-tinged)—vulnerability cracked. “Love this. Love you?” he ventured, nursing soft.
Tears. “Terrifies me. Son… life…” But heart swelled. Tempting normalcy twisted erotic forever.
Ultimate Ritual
Climax: Cabin getaway. Snow muffled world. Fireplace crackle, pine sap scent. She blindfolded, bound spread-eagle. Ice cubes trailed nipples—melt mixing milk warm rivulets. Crop lashes tits red, welts beading cream. He feasted hours—sucking, fingering endless, edging her mad.
“Beg for it.”
“Please… drink me dry. Fuck my milky cunt raw.”
Unbound frenzy. Rode him reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing, tits milk-fountaining his chest. He fisted pussy—whole hand wrist-deep, squirt geysers soaking fur rug. Anal next, legs ankles-to-neck fold, cock pile-driving. Double orgasms synced—his load jet ass, her walls spasming.
Afterglow marathon nursing. Bottles collected, mutual piss play warm streams marking territory. Dawn, entwined: “This is us. Tempting forever.”
Back home, reality integrated. Dates with kid, him playing uncle. Nights filthy feasts. Balance found—love’s kink unlocked. Lara surrendered fully, body soul milked dry.
The affair evolved, tempting horizons endless. No end, just deeper dives into bliss.
