Help Me 750 Word Project

This is a story about lactation. If you enjoy that, you should enjoy this. If you don't enjoy that, here's your warning.

This story was written for the

750 Word Project 2025

, below this line are exactly 750 words:

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You did not hear her when she left, but you hear her now as she climbs back into her spot on the right side of the bed. She must have left for a feeding, which happens at night a lot.

Once she's settled, you hear a slight moan, which is your cue to arouse yourself enough to see what the problem is. You turn to her, and find she's already looking at you. You already know what this is about, but you want to hear her ask for help before you volunteer.

"What's wrong, love?"

She's grateful that you've awakened enough to show concern for her. "I went to feed him one more time before he went to sleep for the night, but he must have been tired, and he didn't drink very much. Now I have a huge problem!"

She pulls back her covers, and even in the dim light of the room, you can see two very large wet spots on her nightshirt indicating both breasts are full enough to the point that her nipples are leaking on their own.

"I could go get the pump and take care of the problem," she tells you, "but it's in baby's room and I don't want to chance waking him up."

You know what question is coming. "Will you help me, Daddy? I'll owe you a huge favor if you will!" She calls you Daddy because you are the father of her child. But she also loves the naughtiness her name for you insinuates.

She's teasing you because she knows damn good and well that any chance you get to have her nipples in your mouth is going to be taken, since your nipple time has greatly reduced after the birth of our son.

You reply, "Of course, love. You know I will always take care of you.

She happy-claps three times with a huge smile on her face. As you move to get into position, she gleefully takes off her wet nightshirt and tosses it to the floor. She pats her hand in her lap, and as you lean over to lay your head on her legs, she hoists her full right breast up and gets it in position for you.

She's dripping milk out of her nipple like a very leaky faucet. Once you are fully in position, you open your mouth and latch on. Immediately you hear her whisper, "Oh fuck, mommy needed this so much!" As you drain the excess milk from her swollen breast, she casually runs her right fingers through your hair while stroking your chest with her other hand.

The milk is like honey-flavored magic to you, and you suck robustly, being careful not to damage her nipple in any way so baby can get his fill in the morning. She has you drink for about five minutes and then stops you. You know what that means, so wordlessly you move your head enough to be in position to help with her left side.

She repeats the moan and gasps when you start on the second nipple. You feel her move her hand underneath your head, until her forearm rests against you. You can feel her arm muscles start to flex and move, and you know her fingers have found the wet center of her pussy. She won't allow herself this indulgence when she's feeding baby, but with you, she can't resist, since your sucking has already fired her up. She fingers herself faster, and her breathing becomes labored, and soon you hear her cry out, "Oh yes, Daddy, I love you so much!" Her body spasms once and then twice as her orgasm comes. It's not a giant one, but you can tell she enjoyed it.

You know from instinct and practice that you have sufficiently relieved her. You sit up enough to kiss her. You also know that soon, you're going to pay for helping her out, and she may never know what the cost is.

The demand for payment comes at 4:30 a.m. Your bladder is demanding its own relief for the relief you gave her four hours before. You move quietly to not disturb her. You sit so the noise of the torrent stream hitting the water in the toilet doesn't wake her. You quietly wash your hands and return to bed. You'll be tired in an hour when your alarm goes off, but as you look at your beautiful wife resting peacefully, you whisper to yourself, "Worth it."