24/02/17
Kiera would murder me in my sleep if she ever found out that I put her business out there, like I’m about to. That’s why I’ve changed her name. Hopefully she doesn’t read sexystories, and if she does, I hope she feels beautiful.
Kiera is my roommate. When I decided to go back and finish school, I knew I didn’t want to stay on campus, and I met her on Craigslist looking for a roommate. I didn’t want to live with some random brat, who was going to smoke weed and do nothing every day, because I knew that I would never finish my degree if I was around that. Instead, I found the most professional, healthy, young single mother in the world.
I usually prefer men, but there was something about her that I admired and adored. She always had a bottomless font of energy to make her way to class, daycare, and to play with her child instead of letting him sit in front of the television all the time. I helped babysit him too, of course. Still though, when she was asleep, she was out cold. Of course, she could wake up if she heard the sound of her baby crying, but anything short of that, and she was dead to the world.
Last Friday was one of my friends’ birthdays. Of course, we went out, got plastered like good girls, yadda yadda. When I came home from a night of very dirty dancing, in one of those clubs in the dangerous part of town, where everyone is encouraged to act like their own strippers, I was more than horny. Usually, I only dance with my friends, but that night, I got grabbed by the back of the neck, forced to bend down to touch my toes, while some thick cocked giant used my ass cheeks to polish off his shaft, through his jeans. I was okay with it; I wish he had asked first, but I liked it. He went home with someone else though, so fuck him.
One of my bad habits from living alone for over 4 years, if I’m wearing a dress and I’m aroused, I start to touch myself the moment I enter the house. I was just drunk enough to forget I wasn’t alone, when I started. I realized that Kiera was asleep anyway, so I didn’t stop. I had been teased and denied at the club, and I knew that there was no way I was going to sleep without getting off first.
Somehow, or another, I wandered into the wrong room. Kiera was asleep, her body seemingly made of nothing but dangerous curves, and cinnamon. She slept without a bra, but she did still wear an oversized, comfortable sweater. I remember not caring; I saw half of a bed untouched, and I saw myself in her arms. I remember her smelling like baby powder, and me pressing my nose against the back of her neck, moaning contentedly. She woke up, with a slight giggle.
“Starla. Starla. Hey,” she said. “You know you’re in the wrong bed, right?” I wrapped my arms around her tummy, settling into big spoon position, despite being the smaller one. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Don’t worry about that,” she says that I said. I slipped beneath the covers; she used this opportunity to turn herself around completely, so that I was laying beneath the warmth she had been building all night. Her ankles curled around my lily white, cold feet. Her skin was blazing hot to the touch, especially her bare, thick thighs. “You’re so beautiful, I kinda hate you a little bit.”
“Thanks, I guess…” She seemed a bit uncomfortable, like she had regretted her decision for a moment. “You know I’m not into girls, right?”
“Don’t worry about that,” I repeated. “I’m already in your bed, anyway.” I inched forward, against the sheets, wedging my body slightly beneath her, so that when she did finally relax herself, her perfectly curved body would cover me entirely.
“Starla, come on. This is a little strange,” she said. “I mean, it was cute at first, but…”
“You’ve never thought about it?”
“Of course I have. I just… I dunno, porn is one thing. I don’t know if I would like it in person.” Though she said this, she didn’t seem to mind that my arms were still around her.
“I’m sorry to have woken you up,” I said.
“It’s fine. I needed to pump, anyway…” She rolled out of bed into her slippers, and away from me. The way we talk to each other about our bodies is usually very frank; we’re both bio majors, in nursing school. I walked out behind her, heading for my own room. Teased and denied, yet again. I wasn’t having it. I followed her into the living room, where she had already started setting up her pump. “What is it?” The tv was always tuned to something baby safe, even when the little guy was asleep. I paid it no mind.
“So, you don’t want to try? Not even a little?” She offered me a weak smile, turning the volume of the tv down to the very first notch.
“Not tonight. I’m worn out, and I don’t particularly feel very sexy, right now. Maybe if you use candles, and Bryson Tiller next time—”
“What if I drink your milk?” The whites of her eyes in the soft, playroom blue light of the tv burned holes through my vision, as we made silent eye contact for a very long time. In the back of my head, I thought: “Welp, I guess I’ll need to move out now…”
“What if what?”
“I… wow, I’m sorry. I crossed the line. I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”
“You want to drink it,” she asked, her head tilting a bit.
“N-no, not if you’re not cool with it. I really shouldn’t have even asked.”
“Do you want to drink my milk, or do you want to be breastfed? Because there’s a few bottles in the fridge,” she said. My face burned with blush; I distinctly remember that sensation.
“I…”
“Say it,” she said, suddenly smiling. I don’t know how she feels about women, but we have talked at length about how she loves to be in control. She says that’s why she’s a single mom, probably. Her sorry baby daddy couldn’t handle her, according to her. I believe it.
“I wanted to be breastfed,” I muttered.
“Come here, then.” I didn’t question my turn of good luck; I threw myself at her feet, between her legs, in front of the coffee table. She set the pump aside, before directing me. Her hands were trembling, as she made herself lift her shirt in front of another girl. Her heavy, c-cup, tender breasts came down to meet my face, eagerly. She reached up to knead herself first, but I took hold of the other breast, massaging it gently with my fingertips, until a drop of her cream appeared on her teat. I pressed my tongue against her flesh, just below the nipple, and waited for the drop to roll down, before I ran my tongue over the trail. “Don’t make it weird,” she said.
“You didn’t like that,” I asked, repeating the process, this time with several more drops. She covered her face with both hands, laughing to dispel the moans I knew were there. I took her nipple into my mouth, and began to suckle gently.
I’ll admit, I didn’t really stop to think about how long I would have needed to be down there, before I volunteered for the job. When my neck got sore, she laid me out on the couch across her lap, so we could continue in a more relaxed position. We watched about 30 minutes worth of cartoons on Sprout, while she fed me. She stopped hiding her face, of course, once she committed herself fully to the moment. It was sexual, but it also much more than that. She was actively giving me life, nurturing me for no other reason than she liked the way I asked her.
When she was done, she lowered her sweater back over her breasts. “Kieran is gonna be mad at you for stealing his breakfast,” she commented, talking about her infant. That’s not his name. I just thought it’d be cute if they both essentially had the same name. I stood up, dazed, but satisfied in a way that I hadn’t felt in decades. A feeling that I had mostly forgotten about. I went to her, and hugged her around the neck before she could stand.
“Kiera, that was amazing,” I said, frustrated at myself that I couldn’t think of any better way to describe it in the moment. I’m still not sure I know how to thank her. “I didn’t know how much I needed that…”
“You alright, Starla,” she asked me, stroking my back. I was in tears. “Come on. You should be heading to bed. Got work in the morning, don’t you?”
“That’s the real reason I’m crying,” I said, trying to diffuse the moment with a joke. We both laughed, while I dried my eyes on my arm. “Thank you. So much.” That night, I masturbated (in my own bed), with a corner of pillowcase in between my lips, suckling at my imaginary matron, with Kiera’s taste still on my tongue, and it was incredible.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5wpp12/starlas_sex_journal_240217_nonficffbreastfeeding
Great story! Is there a second part?