Lauren greeted me barefoot at the porch door dressed in a denim mini-skirt and a white cotton T-shirt. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra. Her shirt clung to her breasts revealing a perfect roundness and the stark definition of partially erect nipples. They were larger than normal, for she had a four-month-old child and she was still breastfeeding. I tried to get as much as an eyeful as I could without being obvious.
"Hi there," she said. "Thanks for coming on Friday. Sorry about the mix up."
I was involved in a multi-level marketing business with Lauren and her husband, and every Thursday I would come to her house and pick up products that I had ordered. Lauren had called me to tell me the delivery truck had been delayed and asked if I could come by on Friday this week instead. I didn't question the change and told her that it wouldn't be a problem.
"Where is everybody?" I asked. Normally there was a crowd of people who came at the same time for the same reason I was there.
"Oh, they all managed to come by earlier, so it's just you this evening."
This was fine with me. I could dispense with the social bullshit and get my ass out of there early. I entered the kitchen and headed over to my pile of products in the corner. Lauren closed the door behind me and I thought I heard the click of the lock, or maybe it was just the latch. Either way, I thought this was rather odd for a warm summer evening, but I didn't question it and began sorting through my order.
Lauren left the room to get her baby daughter, then returned and sat down at the kitchen table. I glanced up to try and get another peak at her wonderful melons. Lauren was only a year older than I was and managed to look stunning even while slumming around the house. She had short auburn hair and sharp blue eyes that gave her the look of a cover girl. She had quickly lost the weight she had gained during her pregnancy and had already returned to her former petite size. I had lusted after her since the first day I met her, but out of respect of her marriage and her husband, those thoughts remained hidden in my fantasy vault.
"You don't mind if I feed Alison, do you?" she asked.
"Excuse me?"
"I have to breast feed Alison. You don't mind do you?"
"Oh. Sure, I don't mind at all."
Actually I did mind. How could I sit here and not try and sneak a peak at this spectacle? It was both a dream and a nightmare come true. There was always the chance I might catch a quick glimpse of a naked breast, but if she caught me she would think I was a total perve. I don't know why breast-feeding is such a turn on, but I am always put into this dilemma when some mother decides to whip out the old milk bar in public. I would think other guys must feel the same way. You can see them all looking around the room, trying not to be obvious about not looking, but wishing to catch a peek nonetheless.
I glanced up quickly to see what was going on and was delighted to see that she was too busy fussing with the baby to notice I was watching. She held the infant in the crook of one arm and worked her shirt up with the other. With a final yank, she lifted the hem above her breast and then hesitated. It was a beautiful site, a perfectly round pink areola against milky white flesh. I couldn't believe my luck. She drew the baby's face near the nipple and shifted forward, but the toddler did not seem interested.
"Come on, Sweetie-pie, aren't you hungry tonight?" she asked.
All at once I felt a tent pole starting to press against my loose shorts and I had to look away. I was well hidden behind my pile of boxes, but I would have to stand up at some point and I would look pretty stupid with a raging hard on. How fucking embarrassing that would be?
"Rats, she just doesn't seem to want to eat right now." Lauren lowered her shirt back down, got up from the table and hurried out of the room. She returned a few minutes later without the baby. I looked up and her nipples were now pointed like nail heads ready to tear through her tight T-shirt. She opened one of the lower cupboards and poked around for a few seconds looking for something.
"Shoot," she mumbled. "Where the heck did I put that?" She rummaged through another cupboard and then sat back and with her chin in her hand. "What am I going to do now?"
"What's wrong?" I asked.