Drink long and deep.

You take her by the hand, walking her to the couch. In the daze afforded by your presence, she allows it. "Ophelia... are you afraid of having another baby?"

She doesn't reply right away, and it isn't until you're sitting on the couch that she responds, looking down at you over the horizon of her own massive cleavage. "I am... I'm..." Tears well in her eyes. "... he doesn't trust hospital, so we... we had the baby here, with a mid-wife and... it just hurt so much, and taking care of one baby is so much work..."

You tap the couch on either side of you. She tries to sit to your right, but you put your hand out to stop her. "It'll be hard to drink, won't it? Just sit on my lap and face me..." Her brow twitches, and you realize whatever spell you've put her under is threatening to break. "Just seems easier that way for us both, is all... please, tell me more." After fidgeting in place, she finally starts to move onto you, and the couch creeks under the focused weight in its center. Only now that her breasts loom so near your face, and her wide hips engulf your legs, do you realize how big this girl is. She's a few inches shorter than you, and not heavy-set like {if Diana_slave = true}Diana{else@}a few girls you know{endif}, but the sheer volume of attractive flesh almost overwhelms you. Her nipples, huge from afar, now stuck out at you like spongy thumbs. A single droplet of semi-translucent white trembles on the tip of her right, and you unconsciously lick your lips. "So... he put you through that, and he won't let you avoid doing it all again," you breath, as you near it.

"That's... that's not the ri-hngh!" Her words fall short as you cover that massive areola with your lips, as far as they will go and nearly engulfing it all. You suck and squeeze the flesh that fills your mouth, and are rewarded with a flood that nearly causes you to ****. The taste is... bizarrely good. It's sweet and pleasant, and far thicker than you expected... but when combined with her soft moan and exhales, and the perversion of this act, its welcome flavor creates a new dimension of arousal for which you aren't quite ready. You work to drain her while she tries to speak. "He... He doesn't... the church said birth control was wrong, or it did when I was growing up... but the will of God has changed, and he-eep! ... he doesn't want to change with the church. He still thinks it's wrong..."

You take a few more greedy gulps and, when your mouth empties, a few generous licks around the entire quarter of her breast that your tongue can reach. Devi told you your saliva, too, was laden with your pheromones; you do your best to cover the flesh of her right breast before withdrawing. You look up at her... and see how red her face has gotten. Given that she's a mother and a wife, it's surprising to see such a naked display of embarrassed arousal... and suddenly your original worry for her happiness seems very far away. You try to latch back onto it, staying on topic despite how devastatingly hard you are with this teenage MILF on top of you. "But if God is fine with it, why shouldn't you?"

"Mr. Peck..." She looks away, upset. She fidgets on your lap, but you continue pushing her.

"I know he's your husband, but that shouldn't be the end of your own will." You try to not think about the hypocrisy.

"Mr. Peck..."

"No, Mrs. Cross! You're your own woman, and you-"

She reaches down to where your crotches meet, and daintily presses on the rigid outline of your cock in your pants. An outline that vanishes beneath and against her hot pants. You see now that her expression might only be partially due to your mouth; you've been dry-humping her clit for the past minute. "Mr. Peck, why are you... like this...?" She sounds a bit upset... and you respond by taking her other tit into your mouth, slathering it generously before taking in more milk. She moans under your attack, and tries desperately to stay focused. "If you're... like this, Mr. Peck," she groans, still too embarrassed to describe your erect prick, "then what we're doing... is... is..." She shudders and, at last realizing her own arousal, she quickly ejects from danger, pulling her top over those swollen, dripping obsessions of yours.

You lick your lips clean; you could get used to this flavor. You imagine life would be better with a taste of it every morning, but that fantasy falls to the background as you watch your "catch" slowly realize the bait. "That's... this is... just a... medical condition?" It was the best you could come up with while buying time with another drink.

"Medical condition? You're..." Her eyes widen as she looks back down at the rod outlined in your pants. "You're lying."

The spell was broken. "I do want to help you, Ophelia," you offer, "but it's hard to... explain how it is I intend to help."

"This is... this is sinful!" She backs away from the couch and towards the short hallway of the apartment, her eyes wide with fright even as she pants with near-overwhelming arousal.

"It isn't-" But she quickly retreats into her bedroom, and slams the door closed before you can rush in after her. Hands flat against the door, you curse under your breath and, in a rare moment, regret your raging hard-on.