I never started out trying to be
a sex worker, but sometimes life takes you in unexpected directions. And is
letting adult men nurse from my milk-heavy breasts really sex work? I don't. I
got involved in this life for the money, but I stayed for reasons I have to
keep secret. But maybe I’ll let you know…
This is a 15,000 word novella
intended for adult audiences.
Content warning: features graphic
sex, erotic lactation, group sex, adult
nursing relationships, lesbian sex, and other depictions of adult
sexuality. Explicit language and adult only content.
Excerpt:
“I’m always interested in samples,” he said.
I raised my hand to my blouse and held it at the top
button for a moment, and then I casually open it exposing a bit of cleavage and
way too much skin. “Are you serious?”
“Only if you want to,” he said neutrally, but his eyes
didn’t leave my chest.
“For two fifty? I can be serious about that.” I undid
some more buttons letting him get a view of my bra. I couldn’t believe what I
was doing. My family would be ashamed.
I didn’t care. The money was good for a bit of
humiliation.
“I don’t have any way to collect your sample,” he told
me.
“Oh?” My shirt was all the way open now. I reached into
my bra and drew out one breast. “Are you sure?” I couldn’t believe what I was
doing. I hoped it was worth the money.
Dr. Patterson waved me around his desk. I walked
carefully, slowly, and with as much dignity as I could muster.
By this point we both knew what was going to happen; I couldn’t
believe I was going to do it.
I walked up to him and leaned forward as he did the same.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked me, probably to protect himself.
“Yes.”
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