My Swollen Tits Need Milking : Daddy’s Cream 8

Me and Daddy are swimming out on the lake, splashing around and having a great time.  That is until I start to feel an immense pain in my chest.  I don’t know what’s happening but I know the source of the discomfort seems to be my tits and in the panic I’ve taken off my bikini top and Daddy’s over me, wondering what the hell to do.  I squeeze my breasts and it seems to lessen the pain so I squeeze them harder.  Suddenly a huge jet of milk fires out across Daddy.

We’re both confused at first but the more we squeeze the more pain leaves me until all that remains is bliss.  Daddy seems to be enjoying it too now and soon he’s offering a hand.  Read what happens next in this sinful lactation fantasy.

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The second Daddy relaxed I started to double over again and he quickly applied the pressure back on my chest.  As he squeezed the sense of release was terrific, washing over me in a glorious wave.  The two emotions were starkly contrasted, but I knew which one I preferred, even if it did mean that Daddy’s big hands were all over me.

“That’s good,” I sighed, and I looked down to see his palms kneading into my breasts.  His face was a picture of concentration, but suddenly his eyes began to spread wide.

I looked to the source of his surprise and noticed a bead of milk straining out from my tight, hard nipple.

Daddy loosed his grip as the sight startled him, but quickly the pain returned.

“Daddy!” I cried, and it was enough to have his hands back on me and squeezing all over again.

This time a fine sprinkle of milk arced from my tits and dropped down on me, giving me such a sense of release that I couldn’t help but vocalize how good it felt.

“Fuck,” I sighed, feeling like I’d just came.  “Do that again.”

“What the—”

“Just do it again!” I demanded.

His hands squeezed hard just like before, and just like before another stream of milk shot from my breasts and fell against me.

“Milk?” he said, confused, gripping me again and sending more and more of my nectar spiraling from my teat.

Each time he squeezed the pain lessened and the pressure subsided.  However strange or taboo this whole thing was, I couldn’t deny that it was the perfect remedy.

“They must be full of it,” I said, tossing my head left and right as he continued to drain me.  His hands massaged each veined breasts, pushing my milk to the nipple and shooting it through the tight aperture.

Some of it shot upwards and sprayed across Daddy’s leg, but he didn’t seem to mind now.  It seemed he was intent on keeping his daughter satisfied, and that’s exactly what he was currently doing.

“Don’t stop,” I called out, writhing on my back.  Each spurt of milk sent a sense of release coursing through me until the pain had all but subsided.

As Daddy continued to pump my tits my face reddened with embarrassment.  Now that the pain was gone the pervading sensation was one of pleasure and I realized that I was making Daddy continue for this reason and this reason alone.  I liked it and I didn’t want it to stop.

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