Another story about nipples and breastmilk for some of my devoted fans.
*
I was gob smacked with the Google results when I pressed return, there before me were a whole host of entries which sort of looked feasible. I clicked on the first hit and found a list of some forty-eight women of all shapes, sizes and ages. One by one I read their profiles, looked at their galleries and dreamt.
After that first time I made a similar series of searches on a nightly basis and I regularly ended up on the same site looking at the same profiles and imagined what it would really be like and whether it would match my fantasy or wash it away like a damp squib.
Many weeks later I took the bull by the horns and registered for an account using the false name and email of 'Tommy Tucker'. I'd plucked up the courage to do step one but actually sending a message to one of the women was a different issue, the other problem seemed to be which one.
I wondered about the girl in the same town but decided that could be a disaster if I was seen with her, anyway she only looked like a young schoolgirl although her profile showed her as being mid twenties.
There was a woman of forty-eight about twenty miles away and her gallery of pics looked like she would do but the one that really took my fancy was nearly fifty miles away in a different county.
Oh the decisions one has to make...
Eventually I made one more search in Google and as always I ended up on the same escort site and made the same selection: Search members, then clicked on: Female, Northeast, milking/lactation, search. The mostly familiar list of women came up and I clicked on 'SexyBetty1987' for the umpteenth time, I read the profile for the umpteenth time, I read the feedback reports for the umpteenth time and clicked on 'Send SexyBetty1987 a message'.
There sat before me a mostly empty square box and my mind went blank. I chickened out and closed the window, closed the main window and yet again the escort site disappeared for the umpteenth time.
I finished my G&T, poured another and supped it while staring at the picture of Hazel O'Conner which adorned my laptops desktop, then again opened firefox and found 'sexybetty1987' in my history.
I clicked on 'log-in' then 'Send SexyBetty1987 a message'. This time I wrote 'I see milking/lactation in your profile, can I come to drink your milk tomorrow?' -- Send.
Heck I was shaking, the thought of actually meeting a woman to finally experience my fantasy of breastfeeding was incredible and I nervously watched my inbox for a reply. I sat there for five bloody hours, until gone 2:00am wondering why she hadn't replied. I went to bed.
7:00am my alarm woke me and by 08:30 I was at work, still nervously watching my phone for any sign of a reply, it arrived at 10:17am: 'Sorry Tommy, the milking that I do is mens cocks. Good luck, you might need it looking for that. Betty xx"
My feeling of dejection weighed heavily like a ton weight on my shoulders, I felt empty and cold. The next six hours felt more like six weeks.
That evening I sent the same message to 'Alexi1992' and receiving a positive message the following morning I quickly made arrangements to make the forty mile round trip for that evening. We met in a hotel car park, she got into my car and made two phone calls then told me to drive, she directed me to a company's empty car park and made another phone call then we got into the back seat. I didn't really see how but suddenly her enormous tits were out in the open, actually they were fucking ugly with huge dark blue veins verging on black, dark red stretch marks which looked like a line of claw scratches some four to eight inches long and almost non existent areolas or nipples and she started stuffing them in my mouth. There was no milk and when I complained she fobbed me off with some crap about the women that offered a milk service used a tube or something.
I'd been had by a con artist all right but at £40 it wasn't worth a fight and put it down to a bad experience. However it did taint the whole thing for me.
I sent a different question to the next four women: 'I see milking/lactation in your profile, do you actually have milk in your breasts for me to suckle? Regards. Tommy." And some fifteen hours later all four replies had arrived to say none had milk. That evening I sent the same message to a further six women and much to my surprise I received a reply within a few moments from 'BBWangie' which simply read: 'Of course Tommy, why don't you pop round?'
The butterflies in my stomach felt more like a herd of elephants and I felt sick. Suddenly more than thirty years of fantasy, no make that more than forty, was possibly about to become a reality and I truly didn't know if I wanted to go ahead. The fantasy had always been a massive turn-on for me and the last thing I wanted was to breastfeed and find that it was actually something that didn't come up to scratch. I didn't want to find that my fantasy was a dead duck.
I asked Angie to confirm that she had milk filled breasts and for a phone number, almost straight away there was a phone number which I typed into my phone several times and chickened out before pressing green. Ten minutes later a video of the most gorgeous brown breasts with pretty black nipples. They were being manipulated with beautifully manicured hands and squirting copious amounts of milk. It finished with her placing her fingers in her mouth to lick them clean and a simple "These are waiting for you Tommy."
I rang the number and described the previous meeting, she promised to only take the money if she was everything she had described then gave me an address, we agreed on eighty pound for half an hour. I showered and drove seven miles, found the block of flats easily, parked and pushed number twelve on the door entry panel.
"Hello." The loudspeaker squawked.
"Angie?"
"It's Tommy?"
"Come on up, first floor turn right."
The door lock buzzed and I pulled, climbed the first two flights of stairs and turned right. Ten, eleven, twelve. I tapped twice with my knuckles. It opened and I was greeted as the door opened by a dark brown vision of beauty dressed in only a pleated skirt no more than four inches long.
"Come in Babe."
I was shaking with nerves which must have shown.
"Oh Babe, come in there's no reason to be nervous, I'm not going to bite... well unless you want me to."
She closed the door and moved in close for a kiss, this was a lovely full on kiss on the mouth with both arms hugging my head and those lovely round breasts and pointy nipples boring holes in my torso. I can honestly say I had never been kissed like this before in my forty years of girlfriends and wives, if this was all I got it would be worth the quite modest fee but it became apparent there was more to come when she led me to a bedroom and stripped me like a child before pushing me backwards towards her pink satin sheeted bed and laid me down with my feet still on the floor beside the bed.
She followed me and sat, straddled, across my hips with her hands on my chest. I truly didn't know what to do, I was so nervous that I was still shaking and in desperation I garbled out the question: "Why are you B,B,W,Angie?"
"My name it Angela..."
"I understand the beautiful bit but you're not fat are you?"
"Tommy, I think I'm loving you already." She had a big smile on her face. "But..." she slapped her tummy, "I'd love to get rid of this... and this," she slapped her thighs."
"I like a little bit of flesh on my women, I always have. Especially after dating a girl who weighed five stone."
"Five stone?... You're joking right?... There can't have been anything of her."
