“Whoa, back up a step!”

Emilio exclaims, as my lips slide down Dean's shaft, and I swallow around him. “You're telling me the slut under the table is a milk producer, too?” His voice expresses his shock and wonderment, accompanied by an intense amount of curiosity.

“Yes,” Amy answers, as Dean's right foot taps on my left thigh just as his cock starts to pulse. I slide my mouth up and lock my lips around the underside of his helm. The first thick stream of his milk pulses into my mouth scarce heartbeats later.

“His entire family does,” Amy says, “and before you ask, no. Their milk represents a considerable portion of his daily diet. His milk is mine. You can't have any of that.” Kneeling underneath the table in silence, I drink Dean's milk, contentedly.

“Okay, that's fair,” Emilio replies, “I wouldn't want him to be malnourished because of me or to sate a scientific interest. Human health and wellness must, of course, rank above it. Once we return to university, Dean will allow me to, er .. uh ..”

“Yes. You can milk me. Jesus Christ, Emilio, don't make it weird,” Dean chuckles, as I slide my lips down to his hilt, once the pulsing ends. “Question is, how much of my milk you want? How often are you going to want to be milking me, man?”

As Dean is speaking, I pull my mouth up, draining the last vestiges of his milk from him. I lick it off the crown, then slide my mouth off, entirely. I kiss his crown and lick him from hilt to tip, before scooting sideways to Emilio, and licking him.

“Oh, a-ah!” Emilio stammers as soon as my tongue touches his cock, once more, “Hmm. Daily, I guess? Wait, do you need me to ... would it be better if it were twice a day, or every other day, or?” Emilio talks faster as I wrap my lips around him.

The level to which Emilio is unfamiliar with this, inexperienced with it all, is obvious. I slide my mouth down his cock and swallow once his crown enters my throat. I rest my palms on his calves to reassure him, and I can feel the muscles tensing.

“Calm. Relax, Emilio,” Dean says above me, “Just ignore him. Let him eat his lunch. You don't produce milk, but even still. You're providing him nutrition he needs. As for me ... yea. Twice a day, minimum. Three times a day would really be best.”

“Jesus Christ. You make that much milk?” Emilio asks, and Dean chuckles, “What?”

“I'm not a cow, you dufus,” Dean chuckles, and Amy giggles conspiratorially with her elder brother. I just smile silently as I bob my head on Emilio's cock. He's perfectly average, and he tastes good, and so he is more than sufficient to satisfy me.

“Our milk is produced when we're being milked,” Amy explains, “The more you often you wrap your fingers around his cock, the more often he'll generate milk for you. Just remember to feed my brother. Milk production does take energy.”

“Oh,” Emilio answers blandly, too startled to have trouble ignoring me for the moment, even as I swallow around his rod, servicing him silently. “Okay, I could probably put in a funding request with the university for a research grant, for that.”

“See, now you're cooking with gas!” Dean jokes, and I can hear Emilio blowing a raspberry at him.

“Fuck you, man, I'm still in intellectual shock over here!” Emilio replies animatedly, accidentally kicking me in the nuts. My eyes clench shut and I set my jaw to resist the reflex to clamp my teeth together. I bob silently, and grind my tongue.

“I wonder how many milk producers there are at Stanford,” Emilio hums thoughtfully, “You know they haven't done all that many studies on this? I've read them all. The information about your functions is limited, we still don't know much.”

I listen, for about seven minutes, as Emilio does everything in his power to resist me. He talks, animatedly, about exactly what is known, and how much they could still stand to learn. Then, his muscles tense before he can go into more detail.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, groaning, as his cock starts to pulse in my throat. I slide my mouth down to his hilt and then I lock my lips tight, swallowing around him. Four pulses of jism in all, and then the pulsation ends, and I swallow hard on him.

His muscles tense and flex as I slide my mouth up, ensuring I drain him utterly. I lick his cock once more as I slide my lips off of him, then pivot and pull myself to Amy. Emilio clears his throat, “Ahem. We'll discuss my research studies ... later.”

I smirk a little as I lick a slow, reverent trail up Amy's beautiful shaft, before kissing the crown. I slide my mouth down on her meat, closing my eyes and simply starting to bob my head. I love how she tastes, the feel of her phallus on my tongue.

It takes considerable will for me to not moan, to remain silent. I can feel her warmth, as I wrap my arms around the legs of her chair, steadying myself. I bob my head slow, knowing how she likes it, because I've been attentive to Amy's needs.

Even as I do my best for her, the conversation continues above me, unabated. For around twelve minutes, I focus on her, until I can feel her meat start to pulse. I slide my mouth up to her crown, locking my lips to the underside of Amy's helm.

I breathe in the scent of her, contentedly receiving her milk as it starts to pump into my mouth. I drink in silence, letting pulse after pulse fill my mouth. I swallow a few times, ensuring I don't miss out on one drop of lunch, until her last pulse.

I slide my mouth down to her hilt, swallowing hard around her, milking every last drop of cream from her. I tighten my mouth, sliding up slow, clamping my lips as firmly as I can. I lick her crown reverently, before sliding my mouth off her.

My lunch finished, I gently tuck Amy's cock back into her clothes, zipping and buttoning her. I move to Dean, repeating the process with a soft, appreciative kiss to his crown, and then Emilio. Once they're tucked, I wait for Amy's permission.