What Nourishes the Soul

Let's just get one thing clear right now: You still don't like Jessie. Got it? That's official, so there's no need for a bunch of gossip that says otherwise. But maybe, and this is a big maybe, you've come to something resembling a tacit agreement. With the amount of shit going on in your lives, there's absolutely no good reason to make things even worse for each other. Besides, she is your family. And that means you have obligations to each other that go beyond concepts like 'like' and 'loathe' and 'would love to see her get hit with a pie'. It's like your mom said: In the end, all you have is each other. And honestly, it's not like she's so b--

......

You still don't like Jessie. Shut up we're done talking about this.

What's fortunate is that she seems to find your newly reforged relationship just as awkward as you do, slipping away without another word after the boys left. Which is obviously fine; Jessie leaving a room without saying anything at all is practically the perfect Jessie experience. If that's the status of your newfound understanding, you decide as you fade into slumber, maybe having your cousin as something less than a rival won't be so bad.

But then the morning came, and with it Jessie's morning milking. And once she entered her docile cow state, it became clear exactly how much she appreciated the night before.

When she completely refused the suction pumps, you assumed she was just being her usual fussy moo cow self. It wasn't until you'd gotten her sloshing udders cradled in your arms, your own enormous breasts smooshed into her back as you prepared to relieve her by hand, that you realized precisely what was going on. It seems you've inadvertently unlocked Jessie's inner cuddler.

You try in vain to simply focus on the job literally at hand, expertly working long splurts of milk from Jessie's overripe melons, but she's like a goddamn puppy **** for affection now. She won't stop rubbing her cheek into your neck, murmuring plaintively for you to comfort her as she tries to wriggle herself under your hard-at-work arm. This is impossible; there's so much goddamn milk on the floor now. Ugh. You know what you have to do.

Jessie whines softly when you release her still half-full breasts, her plump lips starting to quiver as she sees you retrieve her milkers. She shakes her head the first time you offer her the suction pumps, only accepting them with **** **** when you push them into her hands. "Look, Jessie. I only have two arms, okay?" She sniffs as you settle yourself down on the couch, only for her eyes to brighten when you invitingly pat your lap. "Come here."

A moment later, Jessie has both milkers fitted tightly around her throbbing teats, curled up on the couch with her head pillowed by your lap. She groans in deep contentment as you lightly caress and pet her, running your fingers through her hair and across the vastness of her heavy breasts. Words come almost unbidden to your lips. "Such a good girl..." She whimpers in euphoria at your cooing praise, nearly dislodging her pumps with a sudden gush of alabaster. You allow yourself to sink into the comfortable glow of your skinship, your usually overworked mind temporarily still as you both quietly enjoy the moment.

Something undoing at your back and the sudden release of your own overgrown rack snaps you out of your stupor. The fuck? Did Jessie just unhook your bra? You glance down in shock as the milky girl in your lap pulls up your top, your giant boobs falling heavily against your torso to jiggle and exult in their freedom. Stupidly stacked as you are, Jessie barely has to even crane her neck as she pops one of your nipples into her mouth, eyes screwing shut as she curls herself as far into your lap and she can manage and starts to suckle.

It's a while before you can do anything besides shiver in bliss, waves of utter contentment washing over you as Jessie fruitlessly nurses from your oversized breast. It's only through sheer **** of will that you're eventually able to pull your cousin off of you, the milky moo sucking so intently that she releases your rock hard bud with a pop they could probably hear in space. Jessie pouts at you, attempting to wriggle in for some more titty until you lift a finger in warning. "No, Jessie. That's enough. Go get ready for school."

She pouts again, but nevertheless flounces out of your lap with a spring in her step that you don't remember seeing before. Jesus. You knew that she was starved for maternal affection, but wow. You lift a shaky hand to your still furiously erect nipple, gently working it between your fingers for a moment as you do your best to settle down. When your hand comes back wet, those attempts go right out the window. You boggle at the droplet of milk that runs down your fingers, overworked mind flaring into high speed again as you attempt and fail to decide how you feel about this.

Woof. You can't waste any more time. It's Friday, and you don't have brainpower to spare right now. Just get to school and deal with all of this mess tomorrow.

Fucking Jessie.

Fortunately, it seems that whatever reaction your ready-to-work tits had to Jessie's impromptu suck session was a momentary thing. Because honestly, if you'd been in class or something and realized you were leaking through your vintage Banshees shirt, you'd have just dumped all your other responsibilities and run screaming into the woods. And thank God for that, because this is the last part of your day that won't be dedicated to life and **** matters. It would be a shame to waste these precious few hours on a freak-out, only to grudgingly go about your duties when you realized the life of a milky-titted forest hermit wasn't for you.

This is your time to be a busybody with Quinn and Colin. And dammit, you're going to enjoy it.

Quinn certainly seems to be in a good mood, humming to himself as he arranges your anatomy lab equipment. Oh, the nail polish is back! You coo in approval at his color choice. "That looks so good, Quinn." He's clearly over his shyness from the week before, offering you a sidelong grin and a quick wink. Omigod, is that a bit of eyeliner?! Now that you're looking, there are other additions, too. What is he doing differently with his hair now? It's goddamn luxurious, that's what it is. And he never would have been brave enough to wear a top that tight before, and that was clearly a fucking shame. You have to make this known. "Scratch that. You look hot."

That draws out a flash of the old Quinn, his cheeks reddening as he nevertheless puffs out his chest with pride. Huh, something looks a bit...no, nevermind; it's nothing. "Thanks, Ash. And thanks for last night, too; we had so much fun."

You can't help waggling your eyebrows. "'We'? You and Colin? You're a 'We' now?"

Now all of the old Quinn comes tumbling out. "Oh! Um, I didn't mean that, just, you know, 'we' as in the two of us? Not that there's a 'two of us', I mean, there are two of us, but--"

He's babbling. You lock eyes with the stammering boy, raising your hands before you and taking in a deep breath. After a moment's hesitation, he does the same. Then you both release your held breath and, hopefully, some portion of your worries. "Better?"

"Yes, better. Thanks." Quinn rubs a hand up the back of his neck. "I've had to say that to you a lot lately. I'm still getting used to feeling this...um, opened up to someone."

"Quinn, I should be thanking you for that! I'm so beyond grateful that you've been brave enough to share yourself with me. Now!" You clap your hands together. "You wanna tell me where you stand with Colin?"

He considers it for a moment, shoulders beginning to slump the more he mulls over the situation. "Well...I don't know. I feel like we're close, but...I guess I'm sort of scared to try and take things further. What if I scare him off? I'd rather keep a friend then risk it to maybe get a..." He trails off, eyebrows twitching as he hears what he's admitting to you. He's not tense for long, however, letting out a hapless sigh. "I guess there's no way you haven't figured that out, huh."

"Aw, Quinn. Absolutely not."

"That's another thing I've only actually told you about, then."

"Shh, come here." He obligingly leans in so you can wrap him up in your arms. "Don't you worry about this for another second, okay? I don't know what the future holds, but I do know Colin. And trust me when I say that it's literally impossible to embarrass him out of wanting to be around you. He stayed friends with Max for years, after all."

You feel Quinn chuckle weakly against your soft, comforting chest. "True."

"You just focus on your game tonight, and I'll sound Colin out before school on Monday. Just let me take care of everything, okay?" Quinn murmurs his assent, hugging you a little tighter as you carefully stroke his hair. "My sweet Quinn. Do you feel better?" He nods, beginning to pull away from you, and a sharp bolt of panic lances through you as you realize your chest is a little wet. Did he...? Sure enough, there's what could only be a little droplet of your goddamn milk just beside the corner of his mouth. "Um, you've got a little something..."

"Hm?" Quinn swipes his finger down his cheek, relief blooming through you as he wipes away the stray bead of cream. That relief drops into free-fall as he frowns down at his glistening finger, then curiously pops it into his mouth. You can only grimace as the taste of you prompts a quick shiver from the boy, Quinn screwing his eyes shut for a moment before snapping them open as if nothing happened. "That's probably been there since breakfast."

"Uh, sure. Breakfast. Right."

Fucking Jessie.