Male-Customer

John squinted his eyes against the harsh afternoon sun, scanning the row of vehicles that lined the parking lot. His heart raced as he spotted the sign he'd been searching for: "The Natural Tap." He'd heard whispers about this place, rumors of a dining experience that was anything but ordinary. He took a deep breath and stepped out of his car, feeling a peculiar mix of excitement and trepidation. He passed the "18 and over only" sign as he approached the entrance, a simple wooden door with stained glass window that revealed only shadows of the tantalizing world beyond.

As he pushed the door open, it creaked slightly, giving way to the cool, dimly lit reception room. The hostess looked up from her podium, her eyes sparkling with a welcoming smile. She was a vision in a milk maid dress that clung to her curves in all the right places, yet remained loose around the bust, allowing her breasts to dance gently with each movement. Her braless state was a delightful tease, with the low neckline framing a tantalizing expanse of cleavage. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat bun, accentuating her delicate neck and the soft swells of her breasts.

"Welcome to The Natural Tap," she cooed, her voice a seductive purr that made John's stomach flutter. "Do you have a reservation, sir?"

John shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "No, I don't. I just heard about this place and had to check it out."

The hostess' smile grew wider, revealing perfect teeth that gleamed in the soft light. She leaned forward, giving him a better view of her ample cleavage. "Ah, a newcomer. We do love those. How many in your party? Just you, sweetie?"

John nodded, his cheeks flushing. "It's just me." "ID please," the hostess requested. "Of course," John replied as he pulled out his ID from his wallet and placed it in her soft hand. After a few seconds of reading it, the hostess smiled and handed it back to him.

She leaned over to grab a menu from the podium, her breasts moving around inside their loose cage. "Right this way please, John" the hostess beamed at him and sailed through a door into the dining area, her hips swaying as she led him past the rows of tables before turning down one. Each table was adorned with crisp, white cloths and set with gleaming silverware. She stopped next to a cozy table for two, gesturing for him to sit. He did, feeling the cool leather beneath him and the warmth of her hand as she gently brushed his shoulder.

The menu, when she placed it before him, was a work of art. It had a velvety texture and smelled faintly of vanilla, making him feel even more like he'd stumbled into a world of sensory decadence. His eyes widened as he scanned the options, each more tantalizing than the last. There were the usual suspects - steaks, salads, sandwiches, and pastas - but alongside them were offerings with unique ingredients such as "Pasta al crema da maschio - Cum-infused Pasta," "Milk Maiden's Delight - Freshly Squirted Breast Milkshake," and the Natural Taps that the restaurant is most known for: "Breastmilk from the tap," AKA breastfeeding, and "Cum from the tap," AKA sucking a milk man's dick and swallowing the cum, like it's male milk. His stomach rumbled as he read.

A couple of minutes later, the waitress walked up to his table. "Good afternoon, sir. My name is Heather, and I'll be your waitress for the evening."

John looked up from his menu and his eyes widened. Heather was wearing the same kind of milk maid style dress as the hostess. Her dress gently held her loose breasts above her stomach, which her dress comfortably hugged all the way down to her waist, where it fell off her waist like a waterfall of fabric, ending halfway down her leg to her knees. Her dress's neckline was low to show off her cleavage, and kept at length with a string escaping from inside interior of the hem in the middle, tied into a bow. Her skin is a warm, honeyed tone, caressed by the sun just enough to leave a gentle glow. Her eyes were a piercing blue, a stark contrast to her dark hair which cascaded down her back, framing her face with loose curls that whispered against her neck. Her smile was warm and welcoming, a comforting presence amidst the newness of this erotic wonderland.

Heather leans over with her elbows on the table, showcasing her cleavage shifting forward between her arms as she spoke with John. "Can I start you off with something to drink?" she asked, her voice a soft melody that filled the intimate space between them.

"I'll have a water for now, please," John stammered, his eyes darting from the menu to Heather's ample cleavage and back again. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to focus on the task at hand.

"Are you ready to order your food now, or do you need more time to decide?" Heather asked, her voice dripping with a sweetness that touched John's ears like a caress.

John took another deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts. "I'm still deciding," he admitted, his eyes darting back to the menu. "Could you tell me more about the, uh, milk maiden experience?"

Heather's smile grew, understanding lighting up her eyes. "Of course," she said as she sat down on the chair across from the table from him, still leaning over to maintain the good view of her assets. "What would you like to know, darling?"

John took a moment to collect himself, his eyes flicking from her breasts to her face and back again. "Well, what does it entail?"

Heather leaned back slightly, her breasts shifting with the movement, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "The milk maiden experience is a special service we offer for those looking for a more intimate meal. You get to choose from our selection of milk maidens, and they'll personally breastfeed you right at your table."

John's surprise was palpable. "Here? In front of everyone else?"

The waitress chuckled softly, her breasts jiggling slightly with the motion. "Don't worry, it's not as open as it seems," she assured him, her eyes twinkling. "Well, each set of tables has a partial wall between them, ensuring that only the nearest six to eight tables can catch a glimpse. It's discreet yet still offers a bit of a thrill for the more exhibitionist types."

John took a moment to process this information. He'd expected something more private, but the idea of being fed from a gorgeous milk maiden with an audience added an unexpected layer of excitement. He felt his cock twitch in his pants at the thought.

"How does it work?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Heather leaned in closer, her cleavage almost spilling onto the table. "You just order it when you're ready. Tell me your preference, and I'll make sure you're paired with the right milk maiden." She winked, her eyes dancing with mischief. "You can choose from a variety of available sizes, races, and hair colors to suit your taste. And as a little bonus for ordering a full meal, we offer a $2 discount on the milk maiden and milk man experience."

John nodded and felt his cheeks redden even further. "Is it...sanitary?" he managed to ask.

"Absolutely," she assured him, her eyes never leaving his. "We take the health and safety of our customers very seriously. All of our milk maidens and milk men are tested regularly for any diseases, and they wash their service parts thoroughly before starting their shifts. Plus, they clean up again after each customer." She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "You're in good hands here, darling."

John nodded, trying to digest the information. The idea of being breastfed in public or seeing someone giving a milk man a blowjob was still a bit overwhelming, but Heather's reassurance helped ease his mind. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice a little hoarse. "Could I have a few more minutes to decide?"

With a nod, Heather slipped from her chair, the fabric of her dress whispering against the leather as she stood. "Take your time," she purred, giving his hand a gentle pat before sashaying back to the kitchen, her hips swaying hypnotically with each step.

John's eyes followed her retreating form before returning to the menu. The sound of clinking glasses and hushed conversation filled the air, punctuated by occasional giggles from the nearby tables where the more adventurous patrons were already indulging in the restaurant's unique offerings. He watched as a young waitress brought a frosty cocktail to a middle-aged woman at a nearby table. The glass had an unusual rim - it was coated in something white and sticky that looked suspiciously like... His thoughts trailed off as he realized the substance was indeed cum. The woman took a sip, her eyes closing in ecstasy before reopening them to giggle at the rest of the people at her table.

John felt a twinge of arousal at the sight, his thoughts swirling with curiosity and excitement. This place really did cater to every taste, it seemed. He took a deep breath and focused on the food options, trying to ignore the thrumming in his pants. The menu was a veritable smorgasbord of flavors and experiences, each more tempting than the last. He was about to ask for a few more minutes when Heather reappeared, her hips swaying as she approached with a glass of water.

"Ready to order, darling?" she asked, setting the glass down with a gentle click. Her eyes searched his face, as if reading the tumult of emotions playing out there.

John swallowed hard, his throat dry from both nerves and anticipation. "I think so," he murmured, his eyes dropping to the menu.