My father remarried a few years after divorcing my mom. He literally ran into another woman on his way out of the court house. Depressed and in need of company, he invited the woman out for coffee the next morning.
I didn't get to see Pamela for a few months. I knew my father was going out with her, but she never really came around the house. They always went out. After returning home one drunken night my father confided in me that he didn't want to bring another woman around the house if she wasn't going to last. He said that I didn't need that, especially after just losing my mother.
My father had expected his tryst with Pamela to be nothing more than a fling, but they managed to last months longer than he originally planned. Soon, those months turned into years, and the two of them decided to get married.
Once my father was sure he was going to be with Pam for at least a little while, she started coming over a lot more. And I began to notice something: her tits were huge. They were much bigger than any I had ever seen before. They seemed to defy gravity, standing out from her chest in perfect round orbs, and they bounced slightly with every step she took.
I wondered sometimes how I hadn't noticed them before, but perhaps I just wasn't paying much attention. I was caught up with my own girlfriend around the time Pam started to become more present in my life. When I finally broke up with my girlfriend after I caught her cheating with some boy I didn't care to know, I came home quite distraught, and Pam was there to comfort me. I remember very distinctly the feeling of her soft bosoms pressing against me as she enveloped me in what should have been a comforting hug. Instead, I was gifted with an unexpected rush of arousal to my crotch, and I had to wriggle out of her arms and upstairs to my room in order to relieve some of the tension.
From then on, I'd had an unhealthy obsession with my stepmother's tits.
It didn't help that Pamela had a very unique hobby. The story behind this is quite interesting. Pamela got knocked up by a boyfriend while she was still in college, but she unfortunately lost the baby. After the miscarriage, she started complaining of an unpleasant sensation in her breasts, and -- trying to massage the pain away one night -- was rewarded with a cascade of milk squirting from her nipples. The nurse suggested that perhaps there was an excess of prolactin in her system, and provided her with a breast pump. A few days later, Pamela was asked if she would like to donate her breast milk to some of the premature and clinically ill babies in the NICU, and she agreed, wanting to put a positive spin on her situation.
Years later, Pamela still continues to donate her breast milk to banks around the country. It was quite a shock to me when I found out; I came downstairs one morning to see her sitting on the sofa watching TV, one of her breasts hanging from her shirt, pumping away. I stared, transfixed, as I watched the thin stream of creamy white liquid slide down and pool at the bottom of the plastic bottle. When Pam noticed me, she blushed furiously and hurried to cover herself, saying that she thought no one was home and so she decided to pump downstairs in the living room where the television was, because her favourite soap was on.
My stepmother sat me down and explained what she did that morning; all the while I tried to ignore the raging hard on in my pants. It was definitely not helped by the small wet patch that surrounded one of her nipples -- some of her milk had seeped from her shirt. She caught me staring at it and hastily excused herself upstairs to go change. I remained in my spot, pulled my cock from my shorts and jacked it furiously, imagining her soft tits and the milk leaking from it, shooting my cum into my hand.
That was the summer before I went away to college. I didn't have any more incidents with my stepmother or her breast pumping after that, although I did spend more nights (and sometimes days) than I would have liked jacking off to the thought of her tits... I imagined myself squeezing the soft mounds in my hands, pinching and twirling the nipples between my fingers, pulling at her until the white milk came squirting...
I thought that once I'd gone off to college I would go back to normal and stop fantasizing about my stepmother's tits. I screwed as many girls as I could, hoping that would fix it, and it did at first. But after a while I gave up, resigned to the fact that no girl at my university had tits that came close to what I had back home. They turned me on -- I was a horny nineteen year old boy,
anything
would turn me on -- but nothing got me hotter than the thought of Pamela's tits.
~*~
I was sitting on the couch in my living room, shoving chips in my mouth and only half watching whatever crap was on the television. It was a Saturday afternoon and I was home for the summer. My dad and my stepmother had both gone out with friends earlier that morning, and I wouldn't be going out until much later, so I was home alone. Bored out of my mind, I passed out on the couch.
I was woken up by a loud banging noise. It startled me, and I fell off of the couch, scrambling up and making my way to the door. Pamela was standing outside, waving at me enthusiastically. I unlocked the door and swung it open to let her inside.
"Pam, what are you doing? Why didn't you just let yourself in?"
"Nails, silly!" she said, smiling at me brightly, raising her hands for me to look. I glanced down at her spread fingers and took note of a shiny pink gloss coating her nails, still noticeably wet.
"I can't touch anything because I don't want to mess them up," she continued, bouncing over to the counter and sliding her purse gingerly off her arm. "What are you up to?" she asked, making her way out of the kitchen.
"Oh, nothing..." I mumbled. She didn't seem too interested in an answer, as she was already on her way upstairs.
I made my way back to the sofa, resuming my horizontal position and closing my eyes.
A few minutes later I heard the sound of Pamela coming back down the stairs. I kept my eyes closed until I heard her stop at the entrance to the living room and call my name.
"Paul?"
Her voice was small and hesitant, completely opposite of the rather happy tone she had when she had bounced into the house. I peeked one of my eyes open to see what she wanted. She stood a few feet in front of me, holding a plastic bag by the palm of her hands so as not to mess up her nails. I opened my eyes and sat up to better see what was in the bag, and my eyes widened in shock when I realized what it was: Pamela's breast pump.
My eyes darted up to her face and I saw a red flush come over her skin. She averted her eyes and opened her mouth. "I'm really sorry, I should have done this when I woke up this morning, but I completely forgot, and my breasts are kind of sore and they feel really full, and I know that you probably won't want to but I just can't do it myself, I've already had a manicure and I don't want to ruin these nails, they were very expensive and I'm supposed to be going out with your father tonight and I would just feel horrible if I messed them up..."
My ears were ringing, and so I didn't catch all of her explanation, but I did get the gist of it. Did she want me to pump her breasts for her...? I felt my cock twitch in my pants, and I was sure my face had gone white.
She seemed to shrink in on herself, embarrassed at my silence. "I -- I'm s-sorry," she sputtered. "I shouldn't have -- I shouldn't be asking you to do this—"
She began to turn away, and I shook my head, forcing myself to say something before the opportunity was lost.
"No!" I practically shouted. She turned back around, frowning a bit, and I cleared my throat. "Uh, I mean... I d-don't mind, if you're feeling... uncomfortable, I guess I could help you out..."
A grin spread over Pam's face, and I felt the corner of my own mouth twitch up at the sight of it. "Oh, Paul, will you? Oh, I would be so grateful if you could!"
She shuffled over to me and sat down on the sofa, placing the breast pump in my lap, and I was grateful that I was wearing quite loose shorts, so that my growing erection was not as obvious.
Now that she sat across from me, the embarrassment seemed to come back over her, and she looked down in her lap. I cleared my throat again, and when I spoke, my voice was slightly hoarse. "So, uh... w-what... what exactly...?"
Pam scooted a bit closer to me, her tits bouncing with each move, and another twinge of lust shot through my dick. I felt a blush come over my face and I looked away.
"Well, first..." she began, her voice small and hesitant, "first, you would need to... remove my breast... from my shirt..."
She couldn't look at me; just as well, because I couldn't bear to look her in the eyes at this exact moment. But I was too excited -- I could not believe that I was finally getting a chance to touch her tits! The same tits I had been fantasizing about and masturbating to for months. I reached my hand up, slowly, so as not to appear to eager, and moved it towards her breast. My hand shaking slightly, but I was determined -- I couldn't go back now even if I wanted to. And trust me, I didn't.
When my palm finally made contact with her soft flesh I felt another shock of pleasure run through my crotch. I could feel her nipple harden under my touch. I moved my hand up and reached for the neck of her shirt, pulling it down and revealing a purple lacy bra underneath. I pushed it out of the way as well, and her left tit popped out of her shirt, spilling over her clothes, a small dot of liquid already visible on her erect nipple.
I must have sat there staring at her juicy tits for longer than normal because I heard Pam clear her throat. I was jolted out of my stupor and reached clumsily for the pump that still sat in my lap, hoping she wouldn't notice the raging hard on in my pants. I opened the bag and pulled out the contraption.
"How do I...?"
"Well, first it would help a bit if you would massage the breast," she said, seeming a little less hesitant than she was before. "Helps to get the milk out... it's called letdown."
If there was anything this situation was, it was most certainly not a letdown. I nodded my head and reached out my hands, placing them both on my stepmother's tit. The skin was soft under my palm, and as I squeezed I could feel her flesh mold to fit the shape of my hand. I couldn't believe I was touching them... my cock throbbed with every grasp of my hand.
"Okay, that should be good," she said, and I was disappointed, but I moved my hands and picked up the pump anyway.
"Now, if you would guide the breast into the pump... make sure the nipple is placed properly..."
I held her breast in one of my hands, picking up the pump with the other, and placing the funnel shaped end squarely on her nipple. Once I felt that it was a snug fit, I wrapped my fingers around the handle and squeezed.
The first few times only a few drops of thin white liquid came out; and then a sudden stream of milk came squirting out of her nipple, running in tiny rivulets down the sides of the container, forming a small puddle at the bottom. I squeezed again, sending another shot of milk into the flask. I kept pumping, mesmerized at the way her nipple was sucked and elongated with each clench of the handle.
