Fresh milk

“There’s nothing more refreshing than a tall glass of milk,” I said. “The fresher the better.”

Kimberly laughed softly. She bit her lower lip and brought her arm from behind her head down in front of her chest. Now both arms were holding her bikini top in place and gently pressing her tits together.

“I absolutely agree,” she said, fixing me with a devilish look. She slowly moved her arms to her sides until only her hands were cupping the fabric against her skin.

“I’ve got a… terrible thirst, you see.”

Inch by agonizing inch she slowly lowered her hands. More and more of her breasts came into view as she did. She stopped just short of revealing her nipples. I swallowed hard.

“Is that so, Mikey?” she asked.

“Yes, and some milk would really hit the spot.”

“No doubt,” said Kimberly.

She looked down at her own cleavage, and then casually moved her hands to her lap. Her large, firm breasts stuck out from her chest with only the slightest sag. She had long, pink nipples in the middle of large, very dark areolas. Kimberly folded her bikini and placed it gently on the ground beside her chair. Then she took hold of her tits and squeezed them until a drop of milk had formed on the ends of both nipples.

Thanks to dream logic she didn’t need to have ever been pregnant to start lactating.

Without looking up she spoke.

“Lucky for you I’ve got just what you need, Michael.”

“Oh?” I asked.