Donna was dashing around her apartment pulling herself to together for her big date. As she ran from room to room fixing her hair, putting on her carefully selected outfit, her older sister Bonnie stood holding Donna's six-month old baby boy.
"You have my cell number. Try not to call, but call if you have to," Donna said as she flew from the bathroom to her bedroom closet.
"Okay," said Bonnie as she jiggled the baby and cooed at his smiling face.
"I should be home by eleven. But who knows, I might get lucky!" Donna made a face and continued, "But even if I do, I'll be home for the two o'clock feeding.
Donna was pulling on a pair of spike heels, "fuck me heels", Bonnie thought. Donna stood in front of the full-length mirror regarding her now-finished outfit and her figure, which was rapidly regaining its former hour-glass shape. Her hectic schedule of work and childcare had slimmed her down to nearly her pre-pregnancy weight. True, her hips were a little rounder and her waist wasn't quite as trim as it had been. But her vastly increased bustline made her waist seem tiny by comparison. Bonnie was inspecting her little sister's figure too. Bonnie was a little shorter than Donna, and rounder. She always had been. While Donna's bustline had ballooned with pregnancy and breastfeeding, Bonnie's had always been very full. Bonnie had an almost exaggerated hour-glass figure. Bonnie wondered whose boobs were actually bigger.
But her idle musing was cut short as Donna suddenly panicked over not being able to find her keys. When she finally located them, still in her apartment door lock, she grabbed her purse and was out the door. Right on cue, little Sammy started to cry. Bonnie walked him around the apartment and to his little room. She tried to amuse him with little sing-songs and his favorite toys, many of which she had given him. But Sammy was still fussing. She decided he must be hungry. She walked to the fridge where Donna had said she would find a bottle of milk she had pumped earlier in the day.
"Half-bottle is more like it," Bonnie sighed as she saw the small bottle not quite half full. She heated it up and Sammy gulped it down greedily.
It was getting dark and Bonnie would need to turn on some lights soon, but she thought the darkening apartment would calm the baby and maybe he would drift off to sleep. She walked back to the baby's room and tried to lay him down in his crib. He was groggy, but still fussing. Bonnie sat in the rocking chair next to the crib to try to 'wait him out'. Five minutes passed, then ten. Sammy was still fussing a good bit. His pacifier wasn't helping. Bonnie thought he probably needed another half-bottle of milk. She paused. The thought that buzzed through her mind surprised her. She smiled a little to herself. She went to the bathroom and, without turning on the light unbuttoned her western shirt. She removed it and then reached behind herself to undo the clasp of her d-cup bra. Shrugging it off, she slipped it from her arms and took Donna's bathrobe from the hook by the shower and put it on.
As she slipped the robe on, a strangely familiar feeling overtook her. Bonnie paused and steadied herself with one hand on the bathroom vanity. She felt a warmth deep inside. A tingle. She closed her eyes and it almost felt like her breasts were swelling. It was not the strong feeling of 'letting down' she had when she was breastfeeding her son, now three years old and spending the weekend with his father across town. She had only stopped breastfeeding Eric a few months back. Of course he wasn't feeding four or five times a day like he had when he was Sammy's age, but they both enjoyed the peaceful bond of his little feeding before bedtime. And every scientific article Bonnie had read said it was great for building a child's immune system.
As she walked back to Sammy crib and picked up the crying baby boy, Bonnie could feel his little hands grabbing at the robe that he must have recognized as his mother's. Bonnie held him in one arm and opened the robe. She moved Sammy's mouth toward her large left breast and he latched on suddenly and began suckling hard immediately. Bonnie's knees almost buckled. She made her way to the rocking chair and sat down and rocked gently as Sammy sucked without pausing. Bonnie wondered how much milk he could be getting and pulled his hungry mouth away from her breast. Looking down in the dim light, Bonnie could see her nipple was engorged and a much deeper pink than it had been. Milk was leaking from her nipple and Sammy struggled to push closer and re-latched.
A quiet moan escaped Bonnie's lips. She closed her eyes and rocked. Her right breast tingled and she felt it was swelling. As good as that little mouth felt on her left nipple, she pulled the baby away, switched his position and offered him her right. He latched on with a little less force, but sucked hard. He was tiring. Bonnie moaned again and stroked the baby's head. Minutes passed and soon Sammy's breathing became deep and even. She pulled him away from her breast without protest and held the nearly sleeping child up until she got a nice, big burp out of him. Then she laid him in the crib, raised the side rail and left his room, closing the door.
In the living room, she could hear his breathing on the baby monitor. As she sat on the sofa, she looked down at herself. The robe was loosely around her. She looked inside it and saw milk still dripping from her right nipple. She rubbed the now-swollen, now-darker, nipple and raised her finger to her lips and tasted her sweet milk. She reached for a tissue to dab the excess milk that had begun to soak into the terrycloth robe. It was a wonderfully satisfying feeling to feed a baby from her body again. And she couldn't deny the sensation that traveled from her nipples to her clitoris. It had always happened that way for her. It was how she was wired. She felt a warm wetness between her legs and couldn't help rubbing herself as she stretched out on the sofa.
Bonnie was lazily touching her breasts and rubbing her mound, moaning quietly. She wasn't thinking of her ex-husband as she sometimes did when she got horny. She was just enjoying the way her body felt. She had always felt lucky to have been blessed with a great body. And she made the most of it, wearing the sexiest bikinis in the summer and form-fitting sweaters in winter. She enjoyed the attention from men and the envious glances of women. And so she simply let her fingers drift across her body from those breasts, kneading and massaging them down to her trimmed nest of light-brown pubic hair and between her pussylips. When her orgasm rolled over her she shuddered and moaned, almost growling. Again and again she gave herself one climax after another until she simply drifted off to sleep.
The rattle of keys in the lock shattered Bonnie's blissful slumber. And it was a good thing too, she thought, as she sat up pulling the robe around her body as she stood and moved toward the door. She looked through the door's peephole as the door opened a few inches pulling the security chain tight. She had just glanced Donna. Bonnie closed the door, undid the chain and opened the door, letting her sister in. Donna had been crying. Bonnie checked the clock. It was only a little after ten.
"You're home early, aren't you?" Bonnie asked.
"Oh, Sis, it was terrible. I thought Mark was such a gentleman. He took me The Castle Inn. We were having a nice dinner. But then, then..." Donna collapsed on the sofa in tears.
Bonnie sat beside her sister and tried to comfort her. She felt Donna shake as she cried.
"Donna, what happened? What did he do?" Bonnie was concerned for his younger sister and wondered what could have so totally ruined her evening out.
"We were just finishing our main course and I felt, well, you know, I'm nursing little Sammy. And I felt my milk letting down. I had been in such a rush getting ready, when I was getting dressed, I guess I didn't put any pads in my bra," Donna said between sobs.
