"Did you bring a pump?"
I was trying to be helpful as my wife, Shelley, pulled her backpack out of the trunk of our car at the trailhead. I had a foot up on the bumper, tightening my shoelaces.
Our wedding anniversary fell only a month after the birth of our first child and our families generously took the baby for a day, kicking us out of the house to spend time with each other. Eagerly we headed out for a favorite activity we hadn't done in months: a long nature hike.
On top of feedings my wife had spent her spare time in the last few days pumping breastmilk to make sure there was enough to spare at home while we were out. In our short month as parents I was keenly aware of her productivity. She woke up in the mornings with full, sore, tender breasts, especially if I had done a night feeding with a bottle. We had hours of hiking ahead of us, which I knew would be enough time to strain her.
Shelley looked at me with a sly smile. "No... I thought you wouldn't mind helping?"
I felt lightheaded as blood surged to my cock with those words.
I was obsessed with Shel's breasts. Okay, I've always been obsessed with breasts, but ever since Shelley and I got together years before that it became a singular focus on HER breasts. A slightly awkward early date managed to lead to an invitation back to her apartment, a nightcap to bolster courage, kissing, groping, an invitation to her bedroom. Clothes were discarded, except a blue lace bra. I had thought maybe she was pushing them up or enhancing them somehow in her shirt, but I could see her round breasts filling out the cups, cantilevered over her chest. She lay on the bed, legs spread I dove between them, kissing her pussy lips, tasting her juices for the first time, rolling her bulging clit on my tongue. Feeling the tension and release in her muscles as I licked, she pulled me up away from my feast. A condom was pulled from a drawer and my cock sunk into her for the first time. Her hot, tight pussy squeezed around my thickness, and even wrapped in latex I knew in that moment no pussy would ever compare to Shelley's for the rest of my life. We fucked, animal and desperate. Positions changed. She mounted me, and sitting up on my cock reached her hands behind her back to unclasp that last garment. The bra was tossed away. Her breasts were firm but heavy, without the bra they drooped slightly but still projected out boldly from her chest, perfectly round, tapered slightly from into shallow cones tipped by hard, pink nipples.
"Will you suck them?" She asked me, tilting forward, lifting her pussy up along the shaft of my cock. I was grinning like an idiot, but opened my mouth, breast descended to my face as she slipped back down my length. My lips closed on her nipple and my cock throbbed harder against the tight walls of her pussy. I sucked away at the finest tits I had ever seen, felt, or tasted, as she rode me through waves of pleasure.
How was I not going to be obsessed with her breasts? Showering the next morning I gave into temptation and snuck a peek at the discarded bra on the floor. 34E. And it sure seemed to fit perfectly.
Years later here we were. My first thrill at seeing Shel's body had never waned, and only amplified. We hadn't hiked in probably six months--an activity that used to fill our weekends, and I had to admire her in her gear. Tight black yoga pants stretched over her legs, curving over her hips to meet a faded pink workout top. Her waist tucked in before her figure ballooned outward again at her chest. I had always stolen glances at her round tits filling out her tops, and the view was better than ever. I could see the fabric straining against her sides, pulled taut over the twin spheres, the wide straps of her top suspended over the curve of her breast. Her sports bras all lay abandoned at home: sure the band would fasten but none of her old cups could contain her, nor could she stand the constricting pressure on her swollen breasts. I could make out the second layer of bra straps under her top, descending to the outline of a nursing bra underneath, and the soft, slight bulge of the milk pads over her nipples.
My eyes lifted to meet her face and we exchanged a smile, warmth radiating from her brown eyes. For the first time in a month I ogled her guiltlessly, feeling some of the exhaustion and strain of the last weeks begin to melt away.
Not just guiltlessly but hungrily.
Months before my wife yelled out to me from the bathroom: "there's stuff coming out of my boobs?"
Sauntering over was a revelation. She was topless in front of the bathroom mirror, drops of yellow-white liquid beaded on her breasts--already definitely bigger than they had been months before.
"Look," she said, her hand rose to a breast, fingers found place, sinking into soft flesh and pushing forward towards her nipple. Beads accumulated until with an audible splatter a jet of white exploded forth from her nipple.
Something changed inside of me.
That night in bed we cuddled, my cock throbbing between us, her pussy moistening between her legs until we were too desperate to hold back. Mounting me I reached up to squeeze an incredible breast. She felt denser under my fingers, and slight pressure delivered ready results as white drops appeared around her nipples, converging into a drop. I was mesmerized for a moment, the plenty contained in that single opalescent dot. Desire began to sink into my core. A new and special hunger. Mouth open I pulled her down into me, tongue against her nipple my first taste of her milk. With a mixed sigh of pleasure and relief she gave herself to me, I could taste more rich, thick cream pouring gently from nipple onto my tongue, the sensation of her nipple opening and relaxing in my mouth with every suck. The hot wetness building between us as she rode my shaft and I drank her in.
I hadn't touched her breasts in a month. But god, she looked good. Her breasts became wildly productive. I woke up in the mornings with my back wet where milk streamed out as she cuddled me. Pumping pulled ounces out of her engorged breasts. I tried to be behaved but I couldn't help but stare when she fit her pink nipples into the clear plastic flanges. To help the seal she'd squeeze her breast at the edge of her areola, splashing milk on the flange before guiding her nipple in. The suction grabbed and latched to her breast, nipples becoming red from the suction as they flooded the tubes with white cream.
I'd been fantasizing about replacing those pumps. Today was a gift.
With a grin on my face we locked the car and headed off into the forest.
I trailed behind my wife at first. We made idle conversation--but I barely focused. My eyes were locked onto her round ass swaying in front of me. Even from behind I could see how swollen her breasts had become, straining under the fabric of her old they bulged out to the sides enough to exposed their roundness from behind when she lifted an arm or turned to the side. My cock throbbed hard in my shorts, held against my thigh by my boxer briefs.