Knocked Up & Milking (Hucow Lactation Age Gap Milking Breast Feeding Adult Nursing Age Difference XXX Erotica)
Romance, Erotica
| Author: | Nikita Storm | ISBN: | 9781386995944 |
| Publisher: | Nikita Storm | Publication: | May 22, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Nikita Storm |
| ISBN: | 9781386995944 |
| Publisher: | Nikita Storm |
| Publication: | May 22, 2018 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
Nineteen-year-old Cathy was in bad shape. She'd taken what she thought was a headache pill, but turned out to be something much worse.
After noticing her small breasts becoming larger and leaking with milk, she consulted Doctor Brown. He diagnosed her with a hormonal imbalance caused by the pill she took. Not only was she leaking, but she was also fertile. There was only one cure.
He was going to have to take her hard and WITHOUT protection.
What neither of them knew was that his wife was listening in on the whole conversation. Read on to find out what happens when she confronts Cathy about her desire to get knocked up by her husband.
Excerpt:
I was scared, of that there was no doubt. This wasn't supposed to be happening to me. Why couldn't it have happened to someone else? I was just nine-teen and fresh out of school.
I'd taken a pill I found at a friend's house, thinking it was just a Tylenol or something. Little did I know that little pill would end up changing my whole life. As of yet, I wasn't exactly sure what that damn thing did to my body, but I certainly wasn't the same.
Before walking into my friend's apartment, I was a happy-go-lucky nineteen-year-old college freshman who had the whole world at her fingertips. I was a tall, athletic blonde with small breasts and no desire for any of the familial trappings all my friends seemed to have.
Now, because of that fucking pill, I found myself thinking more and more about finding a hunky man to inseminate me and father a child inside of me. Seemingly overnight, my size AA cups grew to C's. Mom thinks it's a growth spurt, but I know better. It was the pill.
At first they began to swell and then become tender. No big deal, right? Then one morning I awoke to liquid all over the bed. I haven't wet the bed since grade school. That was when I realized that the liquid was coming from my chest. I tasted it. Breast milk. Fuck.
That's when I confronted my best friend about the pill. She just shrugged and told me that all the girls were taking it - some kind of new street drug or something. She didn't know what it was and hadn't yet tried it. She did have the name of it, at least.
Armed with this information and scared out of my fucking mind, I made an appointment with my local doc and here I am in the waiting room. Like I said: I'm scared. I don't know what's coming over me. My breasts have stopped growing - thank God - but they're constantly leaking. Not only that, but I find myself constantly sizing guys up - not on their looks, but on how good of a provider they can be to my baby.
The baby. Oh God, the more I think about it, the more I know that I MUST have one. There is no maybe about this. I've never wanted a kid before - they're too much work. But lately it's all I can think about.
It's fucking insane.
"Cathy Stiles?" A woman called out and looked around.
"That's me," I smiled, trying to bury the butterflies in my tummy.
"If you'll follow me," she said and held the door open for me.
I grabbed my purse and followed her. She put me through the usual paces and then sat me down in a sterile white room full of drawings of the woman's body. There was a vagina here, a breast there and baby suckling on a breast on that wall.
I wish I hadn't seen that as a tear welled up in my eye and I began involuntarily crying. Hell, I really didn't know why I was crying. But I soon began bawling. All I could think about is that woman had a baby and I didn't. I actually contemplated cutting out the baby from the poster and taking that home with me. Yeah, I was in bad shape.
"Oh, hello," the doctor waltzed in and looked down at my paper, "Cathy. What seems to be the problem?"
Nineteen-year-old Cathy was in bad shape. She'd taken what she thought was a headache pill, but turned out to be something much worse.
After noticing her small breasts becoming larger and leaking with milk, she consulted Doctor Brown. He diagnosed her with a hormonal imbalance caused by the pill she took. Not only was she leaking, but she was also fertile. There was only one cure.
He was going to have to take her hard and WITHOUT protection.
What neither of them knew was that his wife was listening in on the whole conversation. Read on to find out what happens when she confronts Cathy about her desire to get knocked up by her husband.
Excerpt:
I was scared, of that there was no doubt. This wasn't supposed to be happening to me. Why couldn't it have happened to someone else? I was just nine-teen and fresh out of school.
I'd taken a pill I found at a friend's house, thinking it was just a Tylenol or something. Little did I know that little pill would end up changing my whole life. As of yet, I wasn't exactly sure what that damn thing did to my body, but I certainly wasn't the same.
Before walking into my friend's apartment, I was a happy-go-lucky nineteen-year-old college freshman who had the whole world at her fingertips. I was a tall, athletic blonde with small breasts and no desire for any of the familial trappings all my friends seemed to have.
Now, because of that fucking pill, I found myself thinking more and more about finding a hunky man to inseminate me and father a child inside of me. Seemingly overnight, my size AA cups grew to C's. Mom thinks it's a growth spurt, but I know better. It was the pill.
At first they began to swell and then become tender. No big deal, right? Then one morning I awoke to liquid all over the bed. I haven't wet the bed since grade school. That was when I realized that the liquid was coming from my chest. I tasted it. Breast milk. Fuck.
That's when I confronted my best friend about the pill. She just shrugged and told me that all the girls were taking it - some kind of new street drug or something. She didn't know what it was and hadn't yet tried it. She did have the name of it, at least.
Armed with this information and scared out of my fucking mind, I made an appointment with my local doc and here I am in the waiting room. Like I said: I'm scared. I don't know what's coming over me. My breasts have stopped growing - thank God - but they're constantly leaking. Not only that, but I find myself constantly sizing guys up - not on their looks, but on how good of a provider they can be to my baby.
The baby. Oh God, the more I think about it, the more I know that I MUST have one. There is no maybe about this. I've never wanted a kid before - they're too much work. But lately it's all I can think about.
It's fucking insane.
"Cathy Stiles?" A woman called out and looked around.
"That's me," I smiled, trying to bury the butterflies in my tummy.
"If you'll follow me," she said and held the door open for me.
I grabbed my purse and followed her. She put me through the usual paces and then sat me down in a sterile white room full of drawings of the woman's body. There was a vagina here, a breast there and baby suckling on a breast on that wall.
I wish I hadn't seen that as a tear welled up in my eye and I began involuntarily crying. Hell, I really didn't know why I was crying. But I soon began bawling. All I could think about is that woman had a baby and I didn't. I actually contemplated cutting out the baby from the poster and taking that home with me. Yeah, I was in bad shape.
"Oh, hello," the doctor waltzed in and looked down at my paper, "Cathy. What seems to be the problem?"
