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We weren’t exactly middle-aged, but my husband and I suddenly had college students leaving our home. For the past twenty years I had constantly lactating breasts that had always just been a fun little distraction for me and my husband. Maybe it was a little wild, but it wasn’t anything that strange to us. Then we became empty-nesters and we had way too much free time on our hands. While we didn’t mean to start something that would begin to define us, it just sort of happened. Sharing my milk with…everybody was the best decision we ever made.
This is a 51,000 word erotic novella that contains explicit sex and sexual descriptions of erotic lactation. It focuses on explicit sex, erotic lactation, adult nursing relationships, risky sex, complicated sexual relationships, group sex, threesomes, group sex, and other sexually explicit themes and language that not all members of the public will enjoy.
All characters are 18 or older.
Excerpt:
They both looked at me like I was insane.
Or drunk.
I was a little bit of both.
“What are you doing, Amelia?” my husband asked calmly while looking at my chest.
I noticed that Debra was looking at my chest as well.
I didn’t blame them. I had a great chest. Big DD breasts that stood up rather proudly considering my age and that they had been lactating for two decades.
But they weren’t looking at me because I was wearing a fetching dress that made me look good.
No.
They were staring at my chest because I had ripped open my blouse, popping a few buttons off the fabric in the process, and completely exposing myself to them.
This is a 51,000 word erotic novella that contains explicit sex and sexual descriptions of erotic lactation. It focuses on explicit sex, erotic lactation, adult nursing relationships, risky sex, complicated sexual relationships, group sex, threesomes, group sex, and other sexually explicit themes and language that not all members of the public will enjoy.
All characters are 18 or older.
Excerpt:
They both looked at me like I was insane.
Or drunk.
I was a little bit of both.
“What are you doing, Amelia?” my husband asked calmly while looking at my chest.
I noticed that Debra was looking at my chest as well.
I didn’t blame them. I had a great chest. Big DD breasts that stood up rather proudly considering my age and that they had been lactating for two decades.
But they weren’t looking at me because I was wearing a fetching dress that made me look good.
No.
They were staring at my chest because I had ripped open my blouse, popping a few buttons off the fabric in the process, and completely exposing myself to them.