Eric rode home on the bus wishing he could do something about his horniness. He couldn't masturbate on the bus, of course, and even after he got back to his apartment, it wouldn't do him much good. Even if his cock could have gotten stiff enough, any climax he might have coaxed out of it would have been unsatisfying in the extreme. If he had a woman, that wouldn't help either, unless she was a very unusual woman, able and willing to provide what he needed before the fucking could begin.
What he needed was milk, and not the kind in the supermarket dairy case either. It had to come directly from a breast, so he could taste the warm, delicious fluid as it trickled into his mouth, and smell the sweet, motherly aroma of the woman, and feel the rough texture of her nipple and areola on his lips and tongue, along with the soft skin of her breasts. It wouldn't really take much more than a mouthful, but he had no woman available to provide him with even that much. There was nobody likely to become available in the foreseeable future either. The woman who had occasionally catered to his particular fetish had moved away almost three months ago and Eric's sex life had been completely non-existent since then.
As he stared morosely straight ahead, a woman with long brown hair and a pretty face climbed aboard and started walking toward him, her thick body swaying with the movement of the bus. Eric recognized her. Although he didn't know her name, he knew she lived in the same building as he did, just down the hall from his apartment. Once or twice, he had even chatted briefly with her while riding on the elevator, but he hadn't seen her in a couple of weeks. At the most recent time, the woman had been in an advanced state of pregnancy, but apparently, she had delivered the baby since then. He looked at the swollen breasts bulging her light jacket, and thought of how he would love to get one of them into his mouth and taste the delights it could provide him, although he would never consider making such a suggestion.
The bus had only a few empty seats, and one of them was next to Eric. The brown-haired woman saw it, recognized him, and smiled nicely. "Is this seat taken?" she asked.
"No, it's not. Help yourself."
"Thanks."
The young woman settled into the seat and they rode in silence for a few more blocks. The bus would stop right in front of their apartment building, but the trip was still almost two miles. Although they didn't know each other very well, they were also not total strangers, and Eric finally broke the silence.
"Hi. I've seen you around the apartment building and even talked to you, but I don't know your name. My name is Eric."
"Yeah, I kind of know you. My name is Tricia."
"How's the baby?"
"Oh, he's fine. I guess."
"Er....You guess?"
"Uh, Yeah. Look, it's like this. I was a surrogate mother. A few hours after the baby was born, the father and his wife thanked me and paid me, and took him from the hospital. I left right behind them, and I haven't seen any of them since. She had something wrong with her female organs and couldn't get preggers."
"I see. That must have been very heartwarming, helping a couple have a baby they otherwise couldn't have had."
"Yeah, it was. The money was nice too. It did have a downside, of course, and there's one thing that I hadn't really thought about until yesterday. The baby was born two days ago and now I'm producing milk. By the gallon, it seems like, and nobody to nurse. My boobies feel like they're sloshing when I move."
Eric had a sudden, wildly optimistic thought. This might be his chance. "So, what will you do about it? The milk, I mean."
"Oh, I bought a breast pump today, and I'll use it to pump my boobies out and let it drain down the sink. It does seem like a waste, though." Noticing the eager look on his face, she asked "Why? Do you have a better idea?"
"Well, yeah. Yeah, I do." Hesitating, and carefully choosing his words, Eric described his situation. It was the most embarrassing thing he had ever done, describing his needs to this woman who was almost a stranger, and presenting his proposition without putting it into words. He probably wouldn't have been able to continue, but she seemed to be encouraging him, smiling and nodding her head, instead of slapping his face, calling him a pervert and striding angrily away.
"Well, there you have it," he concluded. "I hope you don't think I'm some kind of weirdo, but I wouldn't blame you if you do."