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Barely fifteen days after Kevin was born, Mary took a new job at a place far from home. Setting out early in the mornings, she returned late in the evenings, leaving her newborn infant in the trusted care of her widowed mother. Each morning she kissed her son goodbye with a heavy heart, as he lay asleep in the cot that she shared with her mother and Kevin. However, the knowledge that there was just no other way out kept her going from one day to another.
Life had not been kind to Mary as far as she could recall. An alcoholic father, a weak helpless mother, a meaningless marriage to bail the family out of trouble and finally the desertion by her bigamous husband were the only hallmark of her 23 years of existence. So when she persuaded her mother to move residence to some place where no one would know their antecedents, where they could start life all over again.
There was a strange element of irony to Mary's life. Mother Nature had been excessively kind to her, her face, skin had soft sheer quality of satin, and silk carved in the mould of a beauty whose allure lingered in the memory long after she had left the place. Her body contoured to perfection was the stuff sculptors spent sleepless nights over. However, in place of a soft gentle heart of desirable woman was encrusted a bitter residue of hurt and trust betrayal. The dresses she wore, the plain face without any makeup, which she presented to the world and the tight grimace her lips had settled into, all bore testimony to her resolve, never, never to appear attractive.
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Mr. Evans, 26 years of age was a formidable, almost intimidating managing director of the enormous tailoring set up that catered to international buyers, was impressed with her professional competence and that air of aloofness, which set her apart from rest of the other girls. Mr. Evans was know as a man of steel, very cold, very distant, almost a robot.
Somewhere around the second week after Mary joined, an unexpected disruption in her schedule changed Mary's life dramatically. The ladies cloakroom, for some strange reason, was locked and the keys, mysteriously, were untraceable. Mary was in tremendous pain despite which she tried to hold on to her self-control for as long as possible. Finally, unable to bear it she charged into Mr. Evans's room and with tear-filled eyes pleaded with him.
"Sir, I need to use your toilet, please." With saying so, she rushed inside, her handbag clasped tightly below her arm, not even waiting to shut the door behind her.
Two minutes later, she let a loose gasp that was swiftly followed by a moan. A surprised Mr. Evan suddenly jolted out of his seat. Running towards the source of that cry, he discovered Mary standing in front of mirror, a helpless look in her eyes.
"Mary, are you all right?" Mr. Evans asked in a concerned tone.
She looked wordlessly at him, a look of tremendous suffering on her.
"I forgot something," she said.
"What?"
After a brief silence she burst out, "The pump, the pump. God, they hurt so much, the pain, I can't bear it."
Realization dawned on Mr. Evans suddenly. Mary's blouse was wet. Her breasts were swollen with untapped milk. He marched to the door of his room and securing the lock firmly in place, he led Mary to the couch.
"Can I help you in any way?" he asked.
Mary didn't know what he meant, but her agony was so unbearable, she was willing to try anything.
"Just think of me as a doctor to whom you've come for treatment, you'll be more comfortable then."
Her pain rendered her speechless and she merely watched as he unbuttoned her blouse, unclasped her bra and gently massaged her breasts. It seemed to make the pain worse and she began to cry.
"Mary I have to do what I'm about to do. There is no other way."
He brought his lips to her nipples. The faint smell of milk reached his senses and made him feel tender towards this beautiful, helpless creature. Gently, very gently, he clasped her nipples, one by one, with his mouth and sucked. The milk gushed out in large spurts into his eager mouth. Her tensed body relaxed as the heaviness eased out her breasts. It was almost as if the curly head nestling at her breasts was that Kevin's and she felt a strong maternal pull towards this man. Except that, there was one major difference. The hand held the other breast was masterly, confusing her, corrupting the pure element of gratitude she felt for him. Slowly she became aware of something else. A warm feeling of pleasure started building between her legs, reacting to the movement of his hot tongue.
Her defenses suddenly resurfaced and she pulled away, painfully self-conscious of her breasts which seemed to have become terribly immense.
"Thank you for helping me out of such an embarrassing predicament. I don't know what I would've done." She said flaying her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
"It's okay. Don't think about this anymore. I was the doctor, remember?" Mr. Evans replied with a smile.
He stood up, pushed his disheveled hairs back into place and returned to his chair, once again becoming the formidable, unapproachable boss.
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For Mary things were never quite the same again. She experienced strange sensations each time she breastfed Kevin. Images of Mr. Evans transposed themselves over Kevin's cherubic face and she found it difficult to suppress the unfamiliar tug of desire that coursed through her at the memory of that strange intimate experience, but she resolutely kept away from his presence.
For Mr. Evans too the experience was not without its fallout. The visions of her milk-drenched blouse, round breasts and the thrust out pair of the most ravishingly swollen nipples kept playing repeatedly into his mind. He relived a million times the sweet taste of the warm liquid that had generously surged into his seeking mouth and there grew in him a longing to have the experience repeat itself. A part of him, the part that had held out successfully against the clamoring of lust and other such primitive yearnings before, condemned his growing weakness for the feel of a woman's body.
