Tuesday, October 19, 2010

The XXXorcist

By The Maven

When my wife was nursing our firstborn, I thought it was great. They both seemed so happy, and why not? I was pretty happy, too - a new baby, a good marriage with a beautiful wife, and when the baby didn't finish, I was called in to finish relieving my dear "Cara," of the pressure in her breasts. As anyone who's had a baby knows, sometimes they'll finish one breast and go to sleep, leaving poor mom with one relaxed and one fully engorged breast.

I'd always loved her great big bountiful breasts, they were soft and lovely, with sensitive areolae. To my perpetual amazement, I could sometimes get her to climax with just manual nipple stimulation. With my mouth sucking tenderly on her peaks, she would almost always cum. And putting my mouth on her big, stiff nipple while cradling her great, cushiony breast with both hands was a heavenly experience. She was a DD cup when we met, and sometimes in bed I would lean back and look at her, and think how her body was so perfect I could hardly stand it.

"Cara" was womanly - plush. Healthy enough to go hiking with me, and soft enough to provide "warmth in the winter and shade in the summer."

But with her breastfeeding, her DD bras had to be put aside. She grew right past E cups and had to stuff her whoppers into F's! After our child was weaned, she did shrink back to an E cup, but the old DD bras had to be given away.

"Cara" had always been a very sensual woman, and a woman in the know will tell you that nursing, caring for a baby generally, is a very physical, sensual experience. And I'm pleased to report that this spilled over into our marriage - when a few months had passed and we could make love again, "Cara" took to it with a gusto I remembered from our first years together. As a bonus, she would "let down" when she was excited, and positively needed for me to nurse from her. It hurt her to be so engorged. I had no complaints! I loved suckling her milk, it was terrific, and downright hot! I'd suck on her spouting nipples, and she'd get turned on even more, milk would be streaming into my mouth. With one nipple pouring into my mouth, I might watch the other drip, drip, drip - for some reason the sight of that second bounty, her cornucopia of milk - it made me stiffer than stiff. Sometimes our lovemaking would lead to our sharing her milk, and sometimes my helping her with her milk would lead to lovemaking. It was a pretty good deal. I loved to unveil her tremendous, wobbling breasts. When she was not engorged with milk, they were firm enough, but when she was filling up, her breasts would grow taut, and looking at her bulging chest made my shorts plenty taut, too. Sometimes she'd be just bursting with milk, and her tremendous ta-tas seemed to beg for my tenderest attentions. Boy, was that good. She told me it not only gave her awesome sexual feelings, but made her feel very close to me. I love that woman, and I was happy to share.

I guess it was two or three years after the weaning that "Cara" surprised me by saying that she missed breastfeeding, or more precisely, that she missed the sensations, the lusty side of our breastfeeding nights. Well, I readily offered to help her recapture that experience in any way we could, and so she got right to researching re-lactation. We got her some herbs, a hormonal supplement, and I took charge of nursing at her nipples as often as humanly possible. Still, I was surprised how soon she got drops of milk to come. Much later, I found out she had sucked on her own nipples when I was at work.

Soon, it was just like the old days - she loved giving milk, and gave it to me as often as she could. We made love like teenagers, and when she would cum, (which was all the damn time,) she would spray milk! The F bras came out of the drawers again, but soon overflowed - her beautiful, milky breasts grew so much we had to special-order them in G. Soon those too had her breasts bubbling over their seams, and we had to invest in size GG! Maybe it was the "exercise" they got, but her bosoms were as shapely as before, when she was a "mere" DD! I loved to bury my face in her warm, pillowy flesh. When she would take me to my limit and I shot my sperm into her, I would cum buckets from all the stimulation! My doctor even asked me what I was doing to get in shape. What I was doing was making love to my wife and drinking her plentiful milk, daily! (Okay, the lovemaking averaged 5.5 times a week. Happy?) Making love to her was quite literally a sensual feast. I'd start leaking pre-cum just from having my mouth around her wonderful boobs, even before she touched me. At night I would dream about how her breasts grew and grew.

"Cara" has great hands, and I always loved how she touched me. And she knew how much I loved nursing from her. We even developed a little game.

I'd lay stretched out perpendicular to her, while she sat up in bed. Her huge, bulging breasts took up most of her torso that way. I'd lock on to nurse her breast, while she masturbated me. If I could hold on and not cum before one breast was completely drained, I'd win. She won every time. She stroked me so well, and her massive breast in my face was such a turn-on, I couldn't bear it. I would burst, spraying semen all around. Also, her breasts held a LOT of milk. They were tremendous! And I would bet that in the time it took me to drain a quart, they could make a pint more. I admit it, I didn't really mind losing.
Once, just once I almost won. I do have a competitive side, and that day I saw that I could win, for a change. She stroked me slowly and lovingly. (she knew how proud I was of my schlong, and would indulge my ego, comparing it favorably to the Empire State Building. Looking for a statement of my size in inches? Well, it's big. Erections, by definition, are big - use your imagination.) I stroked her areola, her big cog-shaped nipple with my tongue.

About the time I got fully stiff was about the time her milk really began to flow. She stroked, and I sucked. And she stroked, and I sucked. And she stroked, and . . . Her way with masturbating me was really, really good. Her fingers have soft pads, and when she would slide her hand up and down my length, she'd stop just under the crown with a little twisting motion. I'd guided her over the years as to what made me feel best, and by now she could play me like a violin. She'd cram my length into her lotioned fist and roll her hands over my begging hardness, vary her strokes, frig and rub and . . . well, basically have her way with me. That day, she realized after a while that I was not even near to cumming, but that her breast, huge as it was, wasn't inexhaustible. She started rubbing me more determinedly, and squashing her breast against my face. Well, that gained a point for her. I got even stiffer whenever she did that, as she knew. But that day I smelled victory, and I was determined to have it. My pole pulsed larger and larger under her ministrations, she was like hot butter on my prong. She knew just what I liked, and was pulling out all her little tricks. She reached around, under my scrotum, and pressed hard on the base of my penis inside my body, making the whole thing stiffer yet. She rubbed down there, too, adding even more stimulation. I just sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed on that huge breast, holding it with both hands, squeezing her goodness into my mouth as fast as I could. Each of her breasts was so gigantic that my face and two hands could be fully pressed against one and not touch each other - not even be close to each other.

She began to understand that this would be close, that her usually easy win was not going to come easy today. Her hand never stopped rubbing over my sensitive, reaching pole. She was inexorably inching me closer to orgasm, but I was steadily working my way towards emptying her. Already, her wonderful milk was thicker - I was getting hind-milk! That's the last milk in the breast, you know. I felt the hot lava gathering inside me, and I felt her straining to have it from me. She was willing it to explode, I knew. I pushed it down, held it in as best I could while she was coaxing, coaxing it to burst out.

She pulled out all the stops. Stroking my stiff-standing penis maniacally, fanatically, she then used her left hand to pull down the skin on the base of my thick prong (she can almost reach all the way around it.) This makes the skin all over the penis very taut, and veeerrry sensitive. I felt the semen like a hot sea inside me, roiling and now pounding against the dam. Her masturbating hand pumped up and down, raining sensations into my core. I clamped down even harder on her ever-spraying nipple, to drain her of every last drop before she could drain me. She moaned with an on-coming orgasm. Usually she would shudder quietly, but a big one was welling up in her. Besides, she knew it could only make me shoot off sooner if she let herself cum loudly. I felt her shake against me, jiggling those gigantic breasts against me and bucking in her place. She was more out of control than usual, but my stoneware erection didn't get one moment's rest - she rubbed me all the more as she came and came.

Pre-cum was flowing from me freely now, not even dripping, but oozing in a regular rivulet. I held on for control, knowing that her ceaseless, gripping hand would positively have my cum sooner or later, knowing only it would be as "later" as I could humanly make it. My penis quaked, my balls practically hummed with the effort. I was trying my best to hang on, to keep my cum inside me. It felt like a huge wedge of semen was growing and growing inside me, and I felt it pounding.

I was almost done on her left breast. It was soft, baby soft now, and I mashed myself against it desperately. She tried her one tactic that never failed, she leaned forward to let her full, hot right breast rest on my stomach. This always set me off in paroxysms of cum-spitting orgasm. But today I was like a beast. I held on savagely. Her enormous right breast weighing on my stomach was positively hard from being so full of unexpressed milk. Her ploy was so stimulating it had me pumping my hips against the bed, even though it meant driving harder against her hand. But I was desperately holding back. I was milking her the best I could, driving her to her own orgasm.

The semen in me felt like a kegful. A pressurized keg, full of foamy stuff to shoot. It wanted out so badly. I held it, sucking as if for dear life, and trying hard to keep it in despite the maddenly wonderful breasts pressed against me, despite her never-stopping stimulation of my stiffer-than-stiff staff. It felt like a sausage that might pop any moment. She was doing her level best to get it to explode. But I knew I had only a minute to go before her breast would be drained, empty. The lava inside me inched forward, forcing its way to the surface. I fought it like I'd never fought anything. She only pumped and pumped my now huger-than-ever staff. I saw on her face that she was wondering how I'd resisted her so long. I glanced down there and it was a frightening sight, purple in the head and hard, rock-hard. It looked like a flagpole.

Then she did something that she'd never done before. There was more semen than I had ever felt bottled up in me, and she kept frigging, rubbing and tickling my huge hard-on to get it out. Then she laid her left hand across her right breast, the still-full one, and pressed down on the whole wide bulk of her huge mammary. Hot milk rocketed out of that nipple, spraying all over me. It was too much. When I felt the torrents of white hit me, all the cum inside me shot out at once. There wasn't even any pumping inside me, just a single stream that shot and shot and shot. She stopped stroking in wonderment at the huge geyser my wooden-hard flagpole was. I came so hard I let go of her red nipple, and shot, and spurted and spat white cum until there was suddenly no more in my semen-pipes to spurt. I was cumming and cumming, but no more stuff was coming out of me. Then, as my orgasm moved from gushing to pumping, the supplies caught up to the demand and more white semen welled up in me and shot out, catching "Cara" by surprise. She'd been bending in for a closer look when I'd stopped shooting, and the first bolt flew right to her cheek. She laughed and grabbed me again, holding my body to hers as I spurt and spurt until I couldn't raise another shot. Then, I weakly put my head back to her nipple - there was still one more half-mouthful of milk in her.

*Whew!*

As the weeks went by I had to ask myself, why is "Cara" producing so much milk? Why are her breasts growing and growing?
And what kind of person goes around with quotations around her name, anyway?

We were getting dressed to have dinner at a posh place with Frank and Ray, two Army buddies of mine who had flown in from the other coast. Whenever we had a night on the town, I’d have to empty her breasts just beforehand. Taking her tremendous, fleshy globes in hand, and mouth, I went to work. It was some time before her breasts were as empty and soft as they could be again, but even so, her breasts had grown so much lately that they barely fit into the strapless dress. As enormous as her bra was, it still could barely hold those breasts of hers – and it had the effect of a push-up bra, because there just wasn’t enough room in those gigantic cups to hold all of her breast-flesh.

I had often told her how the guys were green with envy of me, that she gave Frank and Ray stoneware cock. Was it polite to make them suffer, by wearing that low-cut dress? She just laughed, and watching those mighty bazooms shake derailed my train of thought. Just watching her had made me goddamn hard. It wasn’t unusual for me to leave the house with a hard-on, these days, but my dick simply would not go down as we drove there. She took pity on me and told me to pull over. She lowered her lips onto my cock and sucked, sucked like an anxious calf.

I felt better after she swallowed the heat she’d built up inside me.

The host tried very hard not to stare at my wife’s awesome rack, but she failed. I thought Frank and Ray might push the table over with their erections. Cara acted nonchalant, but would yawn elaborately or innocently lean over to show off her luscious body. I knew the view had to be cramming their balls, it was certainly filling up mine!

Then it occurred to me – she is lactating! I saw that her spheres were already pressing harder against their barrier. By the time the food arrived, her breasts were rising higher and higher against her chest. Our server was staring. My buddies were slowly losing their conversational skills. That’s when I got a phone call from work – they needed me at that moment. I knew this situation would take about an hour, but I told my friends it’d take three or four.

Her mammoth boobs seemed to be growing before my eyes, as I made my excuses. I whispered to her not to stay for dessert, I thought her areolas were creeping into view already. She sighed deeply, and the strain on her super-reinforced bra cups – and on my two friends – was terrible.

I got home in an hour, and sure enough, their cars were there. I crept silently into the house, and heard the moaning. In the bedroom, each man was naked and kneeling at her sides on the bed. She was naked but for her extra-jumbo underbra, which pushed her magnificent breasts high, up and out. She was stroking each man’s dick, and they were so stiff I expected to see ribbons of cum shooting any second. She had them completely in her power – they seemed mesmerized. Her pussy was red and puffy. Her breasts were obviously as hard as dodgeballs, bursting with milk, because even when her arms pumped their cocks vigorously, her astounding breasts didn’t move. But she was so turned on, her nipples were pulsing, and SPRAYING tiny geysers of liquid. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but those thick red nipples streamed constant pin-hole sprays of white milk a few inches into the air – and they shot a little further with her every heartbeat.

She held one, then another hand to her milkspouts and pressed lightly, causing floods of dairy goodness. She’d fill a palm with milk and use it as lubricant on the men’s prongs. Their cocks grew increasingly dark, as more and more blood tried to force its way into their hard-ons. The pace gradually increased. I have no idea how the guys hadn’t shot yet, the scene was an incredible turn-on.

She rubbed those stiff-standing cocks, and wouldn’t let up. Soon, Ray’s enormous pole exploded, and there was semen everywhere in the first moment. His burst of juice sprayed in droplets in all directions. Then, came gushes, torrents. He had just slowed down to reasonable heaves of thick cum when Frank’s even more massive erection blew. He let out such a sound, I thought his dick was perhaps flying into smithereens. His sticky semen hit the headboard so forcefully that some of it splashed back off.

A minute ago, my Cara’s packed-tight boobs were dotted and streaked with her white milk all over them, from her spraying nipples. Now they were being coated heavily with my friends’ emissions. Those guys hurled semen through the air for so long, it gave Cara time to bring herself off for a good first orgasm. When it hit her, her cumming made her milk spray harder than ever! She even had time to go back to rubbing their erect phalluses unmercifully, before their semen had finished coming out. It was one hell of a mess when it was finally all over.

Cara rose and rinsed off in the shower, while the guys just lay there in a daze. She came back very quickly, holding a moistened towel for each man, and cleaned them off pretty well. She sat on the edge of the bed, and had a man kneel before each breast. They were big as medium-sized beach balls, the skin was stretched tight as a drum with all the mass inside them. The fiery nipple dripped steadily. She pulled a face to each breast-tip.

Frank’s cock shot out like a piece of steel. Never mind how huge it was, when he latched onto her, it filled up with blood instantly. Ray’s schvantz stood right up. He was sucking, and pressing his face into her breast - which was far larger than his head. Pressing her bursting breast made SO much milk come, he couldn’t swallow it. It leaked out from where his mouth met her body, and if he took his mouth off for a few seconds to catch his breath, her nipple kept streaming for a few seconds before it slackened off to a rapid drip, drip, drip. Frank was holding her massive mound with two hands, squeezing milk into his mouth. Anna was masturbating more, and loving every minute of this. When she reached a trembling orgasm, neither of the guys could keep up with the flow from her giant tits when she came. Then she quickly reached a shaking, moaning cum. The boys knew what to expect this time, and pulled off to watch the milk FLY from her nipples when she climaxed.

Frank lay down, his massive thing standing like a lighthouse. Cara straddled him – no mean feat, considering that her breasts weighed 20 pounds each. And that was when I weighed them empty! I hesitate to guess what their filled weight was. She grabbed his mighty bone and asked him to take both nipples in his mouth at once. He protested that he might drown. “Do you want THIS?” she asked, and plunged her oven-hot pussy over the first two inches of his stiff-standing penis. He grabbed her dripping teats and got busy, without another word of complaint. She sat and sat and sat onto his prodigious pecker, and I watched his eyes roll up into his head.

She was impaling herself onto his titanic prong as if she had an itch deep inside that only he could scratch. As she bounced on his rod, her sloping mountains bounced on and buffeted his face. He had both throbbing nipples in his mouth. He was sucking leisurely but swallowing swiftly. She moaned and shook on him. When he stopped sucking for a few seconds, she took her enormous breasts in hand and pressed them to his face until his cock spasmed. I had been in his position – it always made me feel like my cock was made of steel.

In between gasps and grunts, Cara asked Ray to come near. He’d been watching quietly, though the pre-cum was making a rivulet down his stiff erection. As he approached, she fucked Frank harder, and he humped back, sucking harder. So it wasn’t easy to extract her bulging breast long enough to fill her palm with milk. But I saw how happy she was with her own cornucopia of breast milk as she let it run over her palm, dripping all over Frank for a minute. Then she lubricated Ray’s ever-harder bone and encouraged him to skewer her from behind. Soon enough, the three of them were moving like a well-oiled machine. When it got really good for one of them, soon everyone would be pounding, slamming, or thrusting harder. Her orgasm built – you could see it coming – and she went off with a bang that had all three of them moaning and groaning. Her innards clutch and squeeze when she fires off. Almost immediately, she was plunging into another orgasm, shaking and shouting, and I could tell that the men were straining by now to hold back their own orgasms.

Yet another cum was slamming into her, and she cried out “Harder! Harder!” Both Frank and Ray were grimacing by now, trying to keep their semen in, to make this last, while this incredible woman was going off like fireworks. I don’t know who had the worse time trying not to cum – Frank, with his face overshadowed by two mountains of femininity? He was hugging those mega-breasts with both arms by now. His cock had been through a lot, and was buried far inside a spasming, salivating cunt. Or did Ray face a bigger challenge as far as not shooting off, since he was plunged into an even tighter orifice, with her lush butt pressed right up against his midsection? Cara certainly wasn’t making things easier on them. She ground and gyrated, pumping and pressing everything she could think of on them. The men lasted an agonizing minute, and then one more . . . and amazingly, another minute too as the springs wound tighter and tighter inside them. The pace picked up even more, they drove and quivered all together, and I could see my wife was building towards a big orgasm.

Frank had been working to hold back his own explosion, but his control was crumbling. He had, after all, had to take her breasts foaming into his mouth, and jetting all the harder when she was cumming. Her tempo and her volume began to rise, but he beat her to the punch with a long wail, and his hips bucking spasmodically. The hot juice flying out against her inner walls made Cara’s eyes open wide (she usually cums with them tightly shut) and her humping became more violent. Frank needed all the air he could get – he flung her monstrous breasts from his face. They lolled corpulently on the bed, and when her spasms hit her, the drips from her red, red nipples suddenly became sprays, shooting far out onto the already soaked sheets.

Her moaning built to screams and whoops – I hadn’t seen her cum like this since our honeymoon. Ray, plumbing the depths of her ass, was holding onto her hips for dear life, and pounding as if he could reach gold. Frank lay completely spent, and I could see a sea of cum flowing out of her down onto him. Ray, however, began fucking with blinding speed. He must have miscalculated, because his cock popped out of her just in time to send a stream of cum flying across the bedroom. It whipped across the room and left a single, yards-long mark on the wall. It was unbelievable – he must have let out a pint in his first spurt. The load continued splashing hotly against my wife’s back. She turned, her breasts STILL shooting streamers of milk, to take his cum on her incredible front. For a few moments, they seemed to spasm in unison. Even as she tapered off to quieter moans and mere dribbles of milk, stripe after stripe of Ray’s cum criss-crossed her. At last, he tottered and fell to the drenched bed. I watched them pant, while little streams of milk kept on running down Cara’s breasts.

It occurred to me that I had emptied her breasts in about 15 minutes, but with these guys providing sexual stimulation, she had given, and given, and given for an hour! I had also found out why her production was so far ahead of my demand. She probably had willing helpers coming by mornings and afternoons, all to help her relieve the ever-growing pressure behind her nipples. Considering the tremendous output I had just seen, my only remaining question was how she STOPPED pulsing out dairy delight long enough to greet me at night and eat dinner.

Her breasts grew even larger, and larger still – they were ever-expanding. Cara could no longer go through a door the way the rest of us do, she had to turn sideways and push through one breast at a time.

Of course, I didn’t like the idea that my wife was spending her days with other men and women. On the one hand, she did give me all the attention and love anyone could ask for, plus amazing, unending sex. On the other hand, I was starting to see that her milk-shooting breasts were taking over her life. Soon I’d learn they were taking over her personality, too.

By now, my wife Cara’s milk-making breasts were pretty well taking over her days. When I was home, I think I was erect more than not, because I was that turned on by her. After all, what could possibly be better than insanely big mammaries? Insanely big mammaries that actually WORK, that’s what. I LOVED her milk, and her milking. When she would squeeze her areolae for me, her nipples would pour out solid streams of the creamy stuff, faster than I thought possible.

When I found out she was being awoken several times a night by her production, we started donating to the good people at the local hospital’s breast-milk bank. I told them I had five sisters, all of whom were lactating and charitable. They told me how impressed they were that five women could produce that much. Eventually I had to make up a gaggle of friends for each fictional sister – friends who re-lactated to shed calories – because the hospital staff couldn’t believe that just five women were making all the milk I’d bring in from my wife.

And that wasn’t half of her bounty, I knew. Most of it was still splashed onto or into me, or one of her many lovers. She spent her days in sexual ecstasy, or hooked up to the breast pump – a turn-on for her, in and of itself.

Her breasts kept on growing. By now I couldn’t sleep in the same bed with her. If she sat up in bed, they were actually up to her chin, and if they filled with milk, they’d start to rise and block her face! They were so heavy that it was pretty hard for her to leave bed. Her nipples were the size of a half-banana. I asked her if she felt she should stop lactating, and she answered that she was very happy with her present condition. I pointed out that she had to sleep with an industrial milk pump on one or the other nipple. She said I should get a second pump, so she could sleep with them both attached. And she did.

Set on slow, those pumps would milk her for nine hours a night, and even so she had to set them to high, once she got up, to catch up on the backlog. Her milk helped innumerable people, but I really felt it had taken over her life. Sure, I was living out a fantasy. That Sunday morning, while we sat and read the paper, she had both pumps going at full speed for an hour, sucking away at her massive nipples, while I got harder and harder. But this was getting bizarre.

Eventually, she had to pump one or the other of her breasts most hours of the day. Even when I was suckling her, the other breast was being drained. And THAT wasn’t enough to keep up – she’d sometimes lug her giant breasts to the tub and “go manual” (express her milk by hand) because there was more milk being made than was getting out. When I say “expressing the milk by hand” I should point out that she would use her hands just to get going. Once she relaxed, the milk would start streaming of its own accord. Then it would blast free, firing out of her. All of this, hands-free. And that was in normal times. When she got turned on, the amount of milk she made increased geometrically. From the minute she got turned on, those nipples would stiffen up and let fly – and not stop! Her mammaries grew so much she couldn’t reach her nipples without some effort. And she was not always herself – she was acting pretty strangely.

As I mentioned, when she’d get turned on, they’d swell even huger. I was so often shocked by the size of them, you’d think I couldn’t be shocked any more – but I was. I found her one day lying on her back, with a man lying full-length across the pinnacles of her breasts. Even with the entire weight of a person on them, they were so big and firm that they stood a yard in the air. He was lying perpendicularly to her, across that vast expanse of titflesh. I saw him climb on – her streams of milk became gushers, pounding him all the harder as they took on his weight. He looked like he couldn’t believe where he was. You couldn’t blame him, either. His dick looked harder than anything I’d ever seen. He just lay there, dazed. The throbbing of his pecker gave his dick a bit of friction against her foot-wide areola, and in a moment, his hips were jerking involuntarily. His prong rubbed back and forth over the milk-slick surface. Her fist-sized nipple was trapped between his hot penis and his torso, spraying milk wildly all over the room.

She moaned for him to suck on her other nipple, and he struggled across the sea of white breasts that rolled before him. He managed to grab her other red, fountaining point. I think his mind was gone and he was working on instinct – his hips still jerked as if someone else was pulling the strings.  The moment his mouth closed over her spouting tip, his cock gushed and gushed out streams and strings and wads and ribbons of sperm all over her mounds, but he seemed unaware of it. He was hungrily attacking the nipple in his mouth, never mind that no one could drink that fast, he set to the task with both hands encircling the stalk of her brobdignagian nip.

Still his cock spurt and spurt and sprayed and spurt, and when the leaping rivers of cum finally died down, he still humped against her breast, stiff as ever. In two minutes flat, he was cumming again, and it coincided with her third explosion. She shook and quaked, but he grasped her monstrous mounds with his elbows and knees, and kept his perch.
He finally seemed to arrive back at himself, and tried fucking her milk-soaked cleavage, then her areola, then back to her cleavage, then . . . his rod seemed so stiff that it pained him, but he gamely tried to make the whole thing last. As he’d already cum pints, he was able to hold out for perhaps fifteen minutes until the pressure was too great inside him. His cum-restraint broke, and the semen leapt out of him. He fell to the floor in deranged ecstasy, with the white bolts still shooting. I saw that her twin supra-boobs were now bigger than her body – this couldn’t be normal!

I asked my rabbi for his advice, and he said it was either an unheard-of medical phenomenon, or her boobs were possessed. He added that he hoped the TV people didn’t find out. I didn’t really know what to think, and when I got home she grabbed me and led me through an exhausting lovemaking session. I fell asleep in her bed, to the hum of breast pumps running at full speed.

I dreamt that someone was holding my nose. When I gasped for breath, something was shoved into my mouth – I snapped awake to see nothing but boob. I was lying on one, but it had my arms pinned to my sides, and the other nipple was forcing its way into my mouth as far as it would go. Milk – of course – was running from it like an open tap. I couldn’t scream. I tossed and struggled, swallowing the milk being forced down my throat. The breast bore down on me. With panic strength, I freed one arm, and unstoppered my mouth. My yells woke Cara, and her breasts settled down. I told her what happened. I don’t blame her for not believing me, but . . .

I told her that her breasts had taken over her life. She wouldn’t listen. I got out a picture of that stripper with the ever-expanding string implants, and asked Cara what she thought. “Well, she’s pretty, but those tits are pretty small for a stripper, don’t you think?” Clearly, her mind and her perceptions were being affected. I asked her if she thought her breasts were big enough. She said she liked them very much, but wished they were a bit bigger. I sighed.

“Look, do you know ANYONE with breasts this size?” I asked her, as I led her to the specially prepared de-programming room. She shook her head. “You are the only person I know who can’t shower with her breasts in the stall! You can’t reach your nipples on the first try – think about that!  Cara, I love you and I want you back – your breasts have always been awesome, but . . . you’re not YOU, anymore. I want the woman I love back!” She got quiet. I noticed she was trembling. I said “You’re giving over 90 gallons a day. And you’re not doing anything else!”

Suddenly she started crying. She cried loudly, saying they HAD taken over her life, and she wanted things back the way they had been. I kissed her and held her as best I could, and promised to help her. I laid her down on the bed in the de-programming room (okay, it was the spare bedroom – happy?) I told her that breasts give more when you demand more – so we were going to go cold turkey on milking her breasts. Whatever sentience was in them depended on our cooperation – and we were just not going to play any more. No more pumping. No sex until she was back to herself. And absolutely no more milking!

She knew it would be tough, but I got out the second-to-last bra she had ever fit into (the woman who sewed it for us said it was an MMMM cup) and gave it to hold on to – it was our goal.

Hour after hour, her breasts swelled with the unexpelled milk in them. There were seven feet between the mattress and the ceiling. Her breasts were actually coming near to it. When I came to the door, her breasts flushed an angry red, and turned on me. I ran. I’d made a trapdoor in the wall, near her face, so I could be with her without being in the room. I held her hand and talked with her. The giant boobs tried to reach me, but they were too massive – they couldn’t reach through the little trap door in the wall.

We knew not to touch them – the slightest pressure could set off a milkalanche. I knew this might be the weirdest day of our lives. For instance, her nipples would firehose milk when she was turned on, but we’d never seen them do so with no provocation. Today, however, we didn’t know what to expect. I read to her, and cast nervous glances at the bazooms swelling nearer and nearer the ceiling. Then a deep, deep rumble – the breasts seemed to take in a giant breath – I mean, they swelled suddenly – and then WHAM – the downpour of milk began.

Those tits fought with the only weapon at their disposal, their amazing production. The air was white around us – it was a hurricane of milk from angry breasts. The bed held her thirty inches off the floor – and after the first few minutes, I realized the tits meant business. The floor was a foot-and-a-half deep in milk! I ran outside to take a pickaxe to the wall, so my Cara wouldn’t drown in the rising milk. A fierce wind was blowing – but only around OUR house! When I pierced through the wall, a white river flowed into the yard. I came back to the trapdoor to check on her state of mind, and . . . shit! She was masturbating! The breasts must have sent incredible ecstasy through her. “NO! CARA!” I shouted, but she couldn’t hear me above the maelstrom.

The breasts were now flush up against the ceiling, and the bed creaked dangerously. Her coffee-can-sized nipples were letting loose waterfalls – milkfalls, that is. I saw from her face that she was almost at the point of climax. The breasts swelled triumphantly. She came! She shook and cried out, and – impossibly – MORE milk flew out of those mammaries.

But when she came down, she saw me and said “Oh, don’t leave me! I want you back! I want my mind back! I want the man I love back! I want YOU!” I stayed by her side for hours, as those monstrous things poured out their fury. But hours and hours of pouring – and no resupply – brought them down. They no longer touched the ceiling. When dusk came, we were exhausted, but the breasts were down to the size of medium beachballs again, and the milk only dripped a bit. After some more time, she reached out and squeezed a nipple – no milk at all came out. She wept with joy – whispering “We’ve won! We’ve won!” over and over. We fell asleep with smiles on and the milk pumps off.

Eventually she was able to fit into the JJ-cup bras we had, and those can be special-ordered. Her boobs looked great – though remarkably heavy and meaty. Anyone who hadn’t been through what we had would call ‘em tremendous. When we made love (JUST we, and nobody else but we) she liked having them sucked. They’d swell a bit when she was excited, but they always went back to normal. Everything was fine in our happy home.

One day she knelt before me and blew me, as only she can, and I gave her an impressive and intense cumshot. She stayed there, licking me and waiting for it to get soft. It wouldn’t. I was feeling rather proud of myself, when she licked it again and said “You know, I could swear this thing has gotten bigger since I blew you yesterday!”