It was a beautiful April afternoon. I was just leaving school, even though the final bell had rung a few hours ago. Some friends of mine had decided to hold a study group in order to prepare for our final exams. I was grateful for the study time; Senioritis is a hard demon to fight. In a few weeks, I would be graduating.
I had been in a really good mood this week; my grades were good, I had graduation gift money pouring in, and I had great plans for the summer. Now, it was Friday, and I was itching to order some pizza and play some video games. Just as I reached my car in the parking lot, my phone rang and displayed a number that I didn't recognize.
"Hello?" I said into my phone.
"Afternoon, Lucas," said a familiar female voice with a British accent.
My heart skipped a beat. "Gretchen?"
"Yes, it's me. How are you?"
"I'm fine...How are you?"
"Good...very well...listen, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for tea."
"Tea?"
"Yeah, it's pretty lonely over here, just me and the baby. What do you say?"
"Well," I gulped. "I'm not a big fan of tea. I'd actually prefer...milk."
My cock throbbed within my pants after that last word. In her lack of an immediate reply, I hungered for an answer.
"There might be some milk here for you," she answered.
"Good, I'm on my way over."
"Right. See you in a bit."
I quickly got into my car and departed my school. My heart was pounding as I did my best to remain within the speed limit. Could this really be happening?
Last month, my mom had sent me to Gretchen's on an errand. She'd recently had a baby, so my mom had baked a batch of brownies as a gift. During that visit, I had learned that Gretchen had gone up a few cup sizes and was lactating profusely. Unfortunately, her newborn son was not fond of breastfeeding, leaving her very frustrated and engorged. In desperation, she'd allowed me to help her pump out her milk...and eventually let me suckle from her breasts.
Before that day, Gretchen hadn't really been one of my favorite people. I'd always seen her as an obnoxious, freeloading, wine drinker who loved to embarrass her husband in public. Now, she was the supreme object of my wet dreams.
I pulled into the driveway, grateful that Gretchen's husband Peter wasn't at home. Peter worked as a consultant, and his job frequently kept him on the road. A few seconds after I had knocked on the door, she answered.
"Come in," she said.
Gretchen was wearing a pink wool blouse and a drab grey skirt, both of which were failing to conceal her jiggling ass and breasts. I silently followed her into the house.
"Glad you could make it," Gretchen said. "The tea's right...OH!"
I pressed my body against her back, reached forward, and started fondling breasts her from the rear. My nose was nestled in her black hair, savoring her female scent. The warmth of her body against mine was such a relief.
"I told you," I whispered. "I don't want tea."
