Claire Ewing (Part Two)

June works at an office, while I do freelance work out of our home. In the early afternoon of the next day, the thing I was simultaneously dreading and hoping for happened: Claire rang my doorbell.

"Hello Jack," she said. "I was out doing some errands, so I thought I'd stop by." She slipped past me, heading toward the living room. "I thought you and I could have a little chat." She sat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. "Come sit here and talk to me, Jack."

I sat in the chair opposite the sofa. "Um, Claire, about last night..." I started.

"I pumped out some milk before I left the house so Bryan could give Skylar her afternoon feeding while I was out," Claire interrupted. "But wouldn't you know it, I'm starting to leak already." She began unbuttoning her blouse. "Do you think you could help me out with that, Jack?"

"Claire," I said in what I hoped was a firm voice, "we have to stop. We can't do this."

She looked at me, all doe-eyed innocent. "Can't do what, Jack?" Then her blouse was off and she was standing up, walking toward me, reaching back to the clasp of her bra. "Are you saying you can't help me?" Her bra dropped to the floor and she was standing in front of me, her insufferably perfect tits at eye level. "My boobs are all swollen with milk, Jack. They're so full of milk they hurt." She leaned over me, putting her left hand on the back of my chair to balance herself. She cupped a breast with her right hand and brought it to my face. "You can help me with that, can't you Jack?"

"C-Claire, really... We..."

"Just look at how swollen they are." She was whispering now, and her breast was inches from my face. It did in fact look swollen, the skin stretched taught over its roundness. A few veins showed through her skin as faint lines of indigo. As I watched, drops of milk began to appear and drip down onto my shirt. "I REALLY need your help, Jack," she whispered urgently, her teeth clenched.

"Fuck," I said, and then my mouth was on her tit, my lips sealed around the pink nipple, and boy was I was sucking, pulling sprays of milk into my mouth, feeling the little jets hitting my tongue and the insides of my cheeks.

"Oh, yes!" Claire said, the words bursting out of her like a grunt. She put a hand to the back of my head, holding me tight against her as I sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed. The chair I was in was a big lounger, and she climbed up onto it, putting one knee on either side of my legs. Then she held onto my head with both hands, burying her fingers in my hair. "Suck me, Jack," she said in a purring whisper. "Suck me. Take my milk. Take everything."

I pawed at her body, cupping the breast I wasn't sucking on and squeezing it roughly. I felt milk spraying against my hand, and I switched my mouth to that breast, closing my teeth down on the nipple for an instant and then sucking, squeezing the same tit with my hand as I sucked on it. With my other hand I groped between her thighs. She was wearing a short skirt, and after I fumbled my hand under the fabric my palm cupped over a soft patch of pubic hair and a warm pussy. She was already wet, and after a few moments of stroking and probing, I slid two fingers inside her.

"Yes!" she grunted again. She closed her fists in my hair, holding tight. By raising and lowering her hips she helped me to finger-fuck her cunt, driving my fingers into her as far as they would go. I kept sucking, and still the milk kept flowing. It wasn't a huge amount; a long, hard suck would produce only a nip, but it kept coming, kept spraying into my mouth in those tiny squirting jets.

Suddenly Claire jerked away from me, pulling my head away from her with the hands she had buried in my hair. The tit I'd been sucking on continued to spray, the milk landing on my neck and down onto my shirt. She just looked at me for a moment, her breath loud and raspy, still clutching my head with both hands. At first I couldn't read the expression on her face, but then her eyelids fluttered and her jaw tensed with her mouth open. "Gonna come..." she said, her voice thick and throaty. She dropped her right hand from my head and closed it around the wrist of the hand I was finger-fucking her with. She pulled up; forcing my fingers deep into her cunt, then pushed me out, then pulled up again in a slow rhythm. "Gonna come..." she said again, her tone urgent this time.

The angle was awkward, but by folding my thumb inward I could put a little nudging pressure on her clit. Claire made a wordless cry when I did this, a shudder passing through her body. She took the hand that was gripping my hair away and held it up with her fingers spread, as if fending off something invisible. Both of her breasts were squirting out milk now. I hooked my free hand around her body and pulled her back toward me so I could suck on her some more, and as my lips closed down on her nipple she cried out again, a short, silent syllable of urgency and need. With the hand she had closed around my wrist she started jerking my hand up into her at a frenzied pace, her vicelike grip on my arm painfully tight.

Then another cry came from her, this one long, loud, and full-throated. It rose in pitch until it pinched off in her throat, and then her body was convulsing over me, violent shudders running through her like waves, from her shoulders down to her pelvis. Two, three, four times she shuddered, and I found the milk squirting into my mouth faster than before, without my needing to suck.

Slowly Claire relaxed after her orgasm. With the hand still on my wrist she pushed my fingers out of her pussy. Then she lowered herself until she was sitting on my legs, drawing her breast away from my mouth. "Hmmm," she sighed, gasping to catch her breath. "Oh, that was good. I knew you'd be able to help me out with my little problem, Jack." She tipped her head forward, resting her cheek on my shoulder for a few moments. Then she climbed off my lap, her legs unsteady and trembling. She cupped a hand over each breast, perhaps to stop the milk that still dribbled from her nipples, or perhaps to sooth them after my rough handling and spirited sucking. She looked absolutely ravishing standing there. She'd kicked her shoes off at some point, so she was completely naked except for the short skirt that flared out from her trim waist. She was still breathing hard and her full, pouty lips were quivering in the wake of her orgasm.

There was a heavy patchwork quilt folded across the back of the sofa. Claire went and grabbed an end of it and dragged it to the middle of the living room floor, stretching it out lengthwise. Then she lay down on it, on her back with her legs angled toward me. Reaching down to the front of her skirt, she lifted the hem up to her stomach, revealing a soft muff of beautiful, coppery-red pubic hair. She spread her legs slightly, and between her thighs I could see the wet and swollen outer lips of her sex. She bent her head downward, first looking in the direction of her mound and then looking at me. "You like?" she asked, smiling coyly.

"Fuck, Claire," I said in awe, in dazed wonderment really, my eyes wide and fixed on her crotch.

"Take your clothes off and come over here and lie on top of me and push your hard cock into my pussy and fuck Claire. Come give Claire a nice LONG, HARD fuck."