What was she thinking?! With her dick, clearly, but that shouldn't have made such a decision for her. Regardless, she sat in Rachel's home, opposite Leah on the couch and desperate not to peek as the buxom futa milked herself. She assumed it'd seem strange to complain, since the book had made it normal to everyone but her. The fact Rachel didn't bat an eye at her half-naked, fully erect sister lactating from her four breasts, confirmed it for her.
Carmen crushed her cock between her legs. She hadn't thought oh Leah's transformation with a level head, nor had she expected multiple pairs of boobs to excite her, yet they did. Oh god, they made her throat dry. The milk was thicker than Stacy's and almost double the amount. Was it possible to bathe in it? She hunched slightly, hoping discomfort would stop the erection.
"Need any help?" Carmen asked of Rachel, who mostly stayed in the kitchen.
"No, it's alright. It's mostly done anyway. Leah, can you hurry up and finish?"
"You know pretty girls makes me produce more," Leah said and winked at Carmen.
"No, they don't," Rachel sighed, "Come on, let's leave Cow-Tits to her business."
"Aww, don't go. Maybe she'd like a fresh glass?" Leah nodded to the two gallon jugs at her feet, each half-full and rising.
"N-no, I'm good," Carmen said and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen. The family had a small table in there to her relief, so she could collapse and shroud her burgeoning hardness. Rachel came in soon after, shaking her head.
"Sorry about her. Something about being double gendered makes her act stupid," she said and went to the stove, where a simmering pot of bolognese and spaghetti bubbled away. At Carmen's stare, she offered a shrug, "Nothing special, but it's pretty quick."
"Don't worry about it. It smells great," Carmen said. The last time she cooked was using crap from tins and outdated packages, but this was fresh, she could tell by the smell. It lacked the plastic taint she was familiar with. A timer went off and Rachel drained her pasta, muscles blooming across her dainty arms.
"Help yourself," Rachel put the pots down alongside plates and cutlery, spoons and tongs at the ready.
"Do you cook often?" Carmen asked as she ate, herbs and spices crackling along her tongue. It was delicious, just as the scent prescribed.
"When Mom and Dad are away. Which is, like, every weekend at least."
"Must be hard," Carmen said, wondering how she'd handle someone like Leah in a confined space.
"Not really. I'd prefer to get pampered, like a certain someone, but can't really complain."
"I'm not pampered," Carmen said.
"Not you. I heard about what your family went through a while back. I meant Gretchen," Rachel said, which roused Carmen's curiosity.
"What about my family?" She'd research everything later. It was frustrating to feel like an amnesiac.
"You know? Your dad and all..." Rachel diverted her eyes, "Are you feeling alright? I don't think I'd forget something like that."
"No, sorry. It's just been so long I... I guess it never really crosses my mind. It's been eight years already," Carmen mused under her breath, and again wondered about her path in life. Success didn't mean a thing when she was a millionaire, or perhaps she needed it more now. Last thing she wanted was to be remembered for nothing but having wealth.
"What're you going to do? For college and work I mean?" Carmen asked.
"No idea," Rachel shrugged and slurped up a strand. She smirked, "Or maybe I'll just marry you. That'd set me up for life."
Carmen snorted, almost choking on a mouthful, "I don't think you'd want someone like me."
"Why not? So you have some weird fetish diary thing, big deal. I've seen and read worse."
"Worse?"
"Online," Rachel rolled her eyes and her lips turned mischievous, a fitting look for her, "I'll send you some links. You got Facebook?"
"No."
"Twitter?"
"No."
"Please tell me you have a phone at least."
"Yeah, but it's kind of old," Carmen said and produced the same device she'd used before writing Ashley's name.
"Okay, we're going out again tomorrow. I'm updating your tech. What's your laptop?"
"Dunno. Someone was throwing it away so I took it instead."
"But you're rich?!"
Carmen giggled at the redhead, whose face reflected the gears turning over and clanking to try and justify such a thing. It hadn't occurred to Carmen to update her belongings. Clothes without holes are a necessity, of course she would buy those, but the latest technologies weren't. Her phone worked, as did her laptop. They were slow, yes, though they functioned. However, maybe it was time she indulged in something non-sexual.
The night continued with Rachel explaining different models to Carmen. Statistics that meant nothing to her, such as what graphics certain parts were capable of - did it matter as long as the screen showed the required information? - and why a lightning fast response time made all the difference. For a short time, Carmen marvelled at a world of knowledge she'd neglected. It didn't interest her the same way it did Rachel, but she was swept into her exuberance.
It was approaching midnight before Carmen realised how long she'd spent there. The sun had long expired, its light replaced by bulbs and the moon. She hadn't noticed. When she would stay up studying she felt every second of the hour, yet it seemed to have poured past her.
"I should go," Carmen said once she'd helped clean up the plates. The leftovers were boxed and put away to be used another day.
"I'm almost sad you have to," Rachel said and walked her to the door, "But the view is nice." She added when Carmen bent down to put her shoes back on. The honour student blushed and righted her posture, turning around, "That doesn't change much."
Carmen sighed. To be desired was the price of owning a Futa Note, she was used to the stares, but she didn't mind Rachel gazing at her. She had kinder eyes than the men, which cowed the rampant lust recognised from her friends, and a hint of unavoidable jealousy.
"So, tomorrow?" Carmen asked.