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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: Babyroom.txt (MF, milk)
Authors name: Anonymous
Story Title : Joyce and the Baby Room
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-= This work is copyrighted to the author © 1999. =-
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
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Joyce and the Baby Room
by Anonymous Author
"I have to work in the baby room today," said Joyce.
Curt turned to look at his pretty girlfriend in the
church doorway, noticing how cute and fresh she looked
in her crisp sundress. This was the most risque thing
she could wear to church, he thought. It clung to her
curvy figure without looking like she was trying to
seduce. Curt let his eyes wander to the pert swell of
Joyce's chest, spying a hint of cleavage.
"For the whole service?" he asked.
"Yeah." Joyce grinned sweetly and apologetically. "Me
and April do it once or twice a month."
They walked into the foyer, Joyce heading for the door
marked "Infants."
"We'll have lunch after the service, ok?" With that and
one last smile, she disappeared behind the door.
-----
In the middle of the service, Curt had to get up to
take a piss. Then he stopped to get a drink from the
fountain in the foyer. While the water was hitting his
lips, he eyed the "Infants" sign. There was a two-way
mirror placed low in the door - the kind that reflected
on this side, but offered a clear view from the other.
Curt stood up straight. He looked around. No one was
near, so he wandered over. He leaned close to the
mirror and peered in.
Joyce's friend April came into view. Curt noticed that
April wasn't wearing a top; she was parading around the
room in a bra and a black skirt. He could see that she
was chatting happily toward an unseen part of the
nursery, though all he could hear were the muffled
tones of her voice.
Then Joyce came into sight. She, too, wore only a bra
on top; she'd pulled the straps of her sundress down
past her waist.
A baby cried from inside the room. Curt looked up sud-
denly, checking to make sure no one saw him with his
face in the mirror. He was still alone, and he looked
back into the nursery. Joyce was going from crib to
crib, tracking down the source of the crying. When she
found it, she picked the infant up, holding and rocking
it in her arms like an expert. April walked up from
behind and began to rub Joyce's shoulders. Then April's
hand slid one of Joyce's bra straps off to the side of
her shoulder.
Curt felt his heart beating faster as he realized what
he was watching. Joyce was pulling her bra cup down and
off to release her breast. It was bigger, rounder, and
more potent-looking than Curt had imagined it to be.
Even from this distance, he could see that her nipple
was deep red, and swollen into a thick cylinder.
Then Joyce held the baby's mouth up to her young bare
breast, letting her nipple brush across the infant's
lips until he accepted it. Curt saw Joyce's nipple and
areola disappear into the baby's mouth, and he noticed
how the suction seemed to pull her tit slightly away
from her chest.
Then April took off her bra and, bending over an ad-
jacent crib, pulled out another infant. She put the
child to her (smaller) breast and began to nurse it.
The two girls began chatting again. Joyce's boyfriend
rose, disoriented.
*******
"Where's Joyce?"
He was standing with April in the foyer after the
service. She was fully dressed.
"She's still in the baby room," April was saying. "You
can go in if you like all the babies are gone now I
think." She grinned.
"What are you doing?" asked Curt.
"I'm nursing," said Joyce, quietly.
He had opened the door and stepped in cautiously. There
had been Joyce, sitting quietly, another baby in her
arms. Something was wrong with the scene. Curt had
looked carefully. One of Joyce's pale, round breasts
was exposed. The baby was sucking contentedly at it.
Curt probed a bit. "Don't you have to have a baby to do
that? To feed it, I mean."
Joyce looked matter-of-fact. "No. You can get milk on
your own. A lot of girls do -- you have to have milk to
work here."
"So, uh, that's why you would never let me touch you
there?"
"Yeah." She grinned mildly. "I was afraid something
embarrassing would happen."
"Like, it might hurt?" Now he was smiling too.
"No," she replied. Her smile faded slightly. "If you
squeezed them, milk would start coming out."
"Oh."
There was a pause. Curt said, "But you're not, um, hid-
ing yourself now."
Joyce smiled again. "You're ready."
Just then, Mrs. Thomson walked in briskly. She gave
Curt a sharp look. Then she walked over to Joyce.
"Thank you for nursing Jessica," she said, taking the
baby in her arms. "I'll see you next week." Mrs.
Thomson walked out, giving Curt another sharp look as
she passed.
Joyce sat serenely in the middle of the room, then, her
legs together, one of her breasts exposed. She smiled.
"Well," she said, "what do you want to do?"
*****
Joyce let her bra drop completely off as she made her
way to the door of the baby room. She locked the door.
Then she went back to the chair and sat down.
"Come'ere," she said.
Curt knelt before Joyce and kissed her lips. His tongue
slid forward through the tight passage and into her
mouth. It met her tongue, and the two velvetly inter-
twined.
But before he knew what was happening, Joyce was moving
his head firmly down, down to her chest. Her hands
pressured his shoulders until his lips were in front of
her big, soft orb. It seemed even bigger now that he
was right in front of it.
"Come on," she was saying. "Try my milk."
Then he was sucking at her nipple. He noticed several
things at once: how puffy her large areola was, how its
soft moistness helped him to latch on, how full the
nipple itself felt in his mouth, and then, in a quick
stream, how warm and so very sweet Joyce's milk
tasted. Curt felt closer to his girlfriend than he had
ever before, as he nursed from her thick nipple, and as
he sucked more intently, he felt her hand begin to
caress his hair. His stomach began to feel warm and
full.
When she was done breastfeeding Curt, Joyce sat up and
reached up her dress with both hands. She slid her
panties off smoothly, and after she let them drop to
the floor, she spread her legs. Her dress slid up past
her wonderful thighs.
Curt didn't have to be told what to do. As he opened
her, leaned down, and let his tongue slide through the
trough of her vulva, Joyce drew in a slow breath and
thought of the other time this had happened to her. She
had been fifteen the guy was nineteen. She didn't
exactly understand the purpose of it, until she felt a
warm tingling burning white hot pleasure there between
her legs. There was just one of them, and she didn't
know for a long time that this was an orgasm. But Joyce
was twenty now, and she knew a lot more than she had
five years before.
Joyce felt some of her education pay off right about
then -- she found herself escalating into a soaring
pleasure oblivion as the blur of Curt's slithering
tongue pushed her over the edge. She had no idea how
long she felt the ecstasy, only that it seemed to melt
through minutes. However long, she came down only to
find herself on the verge of coming again. She could
see Curt burying his lips between her labia, sucking
her clitoris into his mouth and refusing to let it go.
She began a quiet yelp -- "No, it's too . . ." -- that
was stifled as she rocketed away into a second orgasm.
Curt had noticed that her hands had found her bare
breasts. A finger delicately orbited each nipple until
drops of her milk trickled and spilled around her
areolae. Curt had had enough. He dropped his hands to
his pants, unzipping with fury. About the time Joyce's
third or fourth orgasm (she'd lost count) ended, he
presented his penis at the opening of her vagina.
"Wait," he heard her say. She pushed the chair back and
slid to the floor. Even Curt, not the hallmark of sex-
ual experience, could tell how hungry Joyce was for
that final act, coupling. She spread her legs so far
back and apart that she could grasp each ankle with
ease. Her cunt was opened wide, a stretched set of
moist pink lips surrounded by a thin trail of light
brown hair. But though Curt could see the entrance to
Joyce's vagina easily, he noticed that the tunnel
itself hadn't opened much at all.
"Enter my gates with thanksgiving," Joyce joked ner-
vously, making a pun of a hymn the congregation had
sung during the service.
Curt didn't let it spoil the mood. "I love you," he
said, dropping the head of his dick into Joyce.
Both gasped at once. Curt felt the warm -- no, hot --
she felt inside, how soft, how wet. Joyce was recalling
the previous, first cock she had let inside her. She
knew Curt was barely inside her, but already she could
tell that he was bigger than the other guy had been.
He didn't exactly know what he was doing, but pumping
in and out of Joyce's cunt felt good, and he found him-
self doing it at a fairly fast rate. Joyce, it was
obvious to him, was enjoying it too: her hands were
back at her breasts, milking the nipples with tight
squeezes, while her mouth was open. He wondered if she
would come again.
Joyce was coming alright. About five strokes into their
intercourse, the sweep of orgasm suddenly enveloped
her, and it refused to let her down. It melted into
different stages: she tingled all over, then her crotch
burned almost painfully, then she was aware of the
relentless ramming of Curt's dick in her pussy. Then
her breasts -- oh, her breasts. God. Each light touch
of a finger to a puffy areola made her sting with a
delicious pleasure, a tiny orgasm in itself, on top of
the one that now seemed continuous.
When it slipped away, she opened her eyes to watch Curt
leaning over her, thrusting at the brown furry patch
between her legs unrelentlessly. God, what a turn-on.
She found herself coming again, but relatively briefly.
When those 30 seconds were through, she opened her eyes
again, and this time the determination on his face soon
sent her back into ecstasy. And the cycle continued.
After a few minutes of this, Joyce knew that it had to
stop soon. If she'd counted right -- which she doubted
-- she'd had at least, say, ten orgasms. And though
they seemed to become more intense each time, sometimes
much more intense, she felt as if she could barely take
anymore. "Oh, Curt, I love the feel of your dick," she
confessed.
Curt, meanwhile, was at the end of his rope when she
said that. He couldn't hold out any longer, though he'd
heard so many times that it was his duty to fuck a girl
until she came at least once.
"Joyce," he said, gasping slightly at a breath, "uh,
have you come yet?"
Joyce giggled softly. "Yeah," she whispered. "I have."
She cupped a breast with her hand. "Here," she offered,
"it'll help."
Curt leaned down to her tit and, taking a good portion
of it in his mouth, drew streams of milk from her.
Joyce closed her eyes, involuntarily swept away. The
whole idea was such a turn-on to Curt that he began to
feel a really strong pressure in his groin.
"God, oh, God," he said, slowing his thrusts to long,
powerful strokes. It was over in a few seconds, and
Joyce could feel a new wetness deep within as come
gushed from his dick.
They spent a long time that way, with Curt's head rest-
ing on Joyce's chest, his mouth gently sucking at her
full round breast, her hand brushing against the back
of his head. She felt tender and fulfilled as she
passed her milk to him. He felt warm inside; he felt
as though he would never take enough of it.
And from the other side of the two-way mirror, April
smiled.
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 7