My Niece’s Milk

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My Niece’s Milk

by greatpersonhooray 2020

I stirred in my seat, growing uncomfortable as my busty niece approached. She was blissfully unaware as her heavy breasts bounced with every step she took. They strained against her blue sun dress, giving it rather unusual proportions and hem that was higher in the front than the rear.

Each bouncing bosom was tanned to perfection, with a pale tan line running to either shoulder from where a bra might rest. A testament both to her outdoorsy nature and how much she liked to let her breasts out to breathe. Around and beneath her collarbone, a patch of freckles coated her otherwise immaculate chest. I was glad I was wearing my sunglasses and could take in this view. Naomi would have caught on by now.

“Uncle Peter!” the young woman cried out, spreading her arms as she descended for a hug.

“Naomi!” I stood up from my Adirondack chair, meeting her as she crashed into me, breast-first.

Her blonde head rested against my neck and shoulder as she nuzzled my clothed chest. She swayed a bit as her arms wrapped around me like a boa constrictor. For my part, I patted her head and rubbed her toned back through her dress as she pushed her pillowy chest further into me.

“It’s so good to see you,” she exclaimed.

“It’s been too long,” I admitted. Part of me was relieved to see her again. The other had been wanting to avoid her, and was the reason we hadn’t met in months.

When I was around Naomi, I had certain… thoughts.

Before I could get too deep into my thoughts, the young woman looked up at me and smiled. She finally let go of me and I was happy to be able to breathe again. On her bare foot, she did a twirl on the grass, her dress raising slightly as it rose with the motion.

I continued to admire her through my sunglasses.

Her long blonde hair, always immaculately maintained. Brushed, straightened, hanging down past her shoulders. She always took such pride in her appearance, but never wore makeup. Not that she needed any. Warm white skin with a hint of freckles on her nose, and eyelashes that went on for ages. Her dark blue eyes, distinct eyebrows, her jaw, you get the picture.

Naomi was gorgeous.

“Do you wanna get dinner somewhere like we used to?” she beamed.

Oh man. Dinner.

Going out with Naomi to dinner had become a bit too similar to dating for comfort. A table for two, my niece’s breasts hanging over the table as she leaned in to excitedly tell a story. The assumptions from those around us that she was my girlfriend despite the age difference.

Well, it was quality time with my niece, I reminded myself.

“Sure. How about that pizza place you like?” I suggested.

“Roberto’s? Oh man that would be amazing!”

“Did you wanna wait, or we could go out now for an early dinner?” I asked.

“We can go in a minute. I’ve just gotta pump and get dressed and then we can go out!” she declared, turning to run into the house. Her healthy ass was too visible in her dress, along with the powerful thighs she boasted.

Despite her other appealing features, I could only think about what she’d just said. I had a lactation fetish. For as long as I could remember. For this reason, I tended to avoid nursing women. It was simply too agonizing to be so close to such a bounty.

The mere thought of milk was enough to make me rock hard. Even my niece’s.

Naomi was notorious in her extended family for one little quirk: her lactation. A simple hormonal imbalance caused the young woman, at only 19 years of age, to lactate despite never having been pregnant. My niece had been dealing with this issue for years now, but she never understood what the fuss was all about.

To her, it was just a strange but pleasant quirk of her biology and a part of her routine. The family just thought she was strange, and perhaps a freak. From the frequent leaking to the recent time she left her parents mortified at a family reunion after being caught trying to suckle her own breasts in a bathroom (they might actually be too large for that).

Naomi wasn’t the first in the family to experience a condition like this, though. Her mother, who is my sister, had the exact same experience. It was almost as torturous on me. Just thinking that on the other side of the wall sat a pair of milk-filled breasts, eager to provide…

While my sister had eventually gotten her condition under control with time and medication, it appeared to have manifested in her youngest daughter in a much more powerful way. The blonde girl was a veritable fountain of milk. She also boasted a much larger pair of breasts than her mother who had nursed three children. They continued to grow to this day.

I heard a dog bark in a neighboring yard and was finally whisked out of my fantasizing. I decided to head back inside the house. My sister had a very nice home. A master bedroom for her and her husband, and a room for each of her children.

Rebecca, the eldest daughter, and John, her son and middle child, were both in college. etiler ucuz escort Their rooms were mostly used as storage and only slept there when they visited on break. Naomi, the youngest, was the only one left at home, hoping to find her big break and become a famous artist.

I smiled, thinking of the art studio she had set up in her room. She had quite a talent. The room was full of easels, paint brushes, pencils, pens, canvasses, pumps- I shook my head to focus back on innocent thoughts. I truly did believe that someday she would make it big. Her art was good enough for the big leagues, she just needed the right people to see it.

I heard a mechanical humming begin to emanate from her room. Quickly, I stepped into the kitchen to distance myself. Scouting some unwashed dishes in the sink, and needing a distraction, I decided to scrub them.

Just a few pieces of silverware, a bowl, some plates… empty milk bottles… I quickly cleaned all of them and put them in the dishwasher for their second cleaning. How redundant. Having run out chores in the immediate vicinity, I walked out to the living room.

Family photos lined the walls, with Naomi’s beautiful smile and hanging cleavage visible in almost every single one of them. I was beginning to remember why I had stopped coming here for a time. It drove me insane. There was not a single relief. Not a single space on this property that did not immediately remind me of my niece and her breasts.

Before I could find something else to do, a door opened down the hall. Naomi stepped out with one of her trademark angelic grins, revealing slight dimples. There was a hint of pride and I soon saw the reason why.

In her hands she clutched two bottles of milk. Both were filled about halfway, to the four ounce mark. It was less milk than she usually pumped at this time of day. I wondered if she was beginning to get it under control.

“Just a minute,” she said as she walked to the kitchen.

She wore short blue volleyball shorts and a grey t-shirt that clung tightly to her (mostly) thin frame and revealed far too much of her cleavage. In fact, I had caught a glimpse of her bra cups peeking out past the collar. One of those nursing bras she wore, for easy access.

Pretty much everything she wore was revealing. Despite her parent’s objections, the daughter claimed to feel trapped by such extensive fabric. She much preferred dresses, shorts, skirts, tank tops, or very low-cut shirts.

The refrigerator door opened, which caused me to wince. I knew she was storing her milk in there. Her parents made her save it and donate it to hospitals and milk banks. The young woman helped out a lot of struggling mothers.

Finally, my niece emerged from the kitchen and slipped her bare feet into a pair of flip flops. She grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door. I waved to her father, who had started to mow the front lawn after dropping Naomi off. She skipped her way to my car and waited patiently for me to unlock it.

We both settled in and buckled up. The strap dug into her breast slightly, but I was sure the extra padding couldn’t hurt in a crash. I pulled out of the driveway and headed off to our early dinner as the blonde excitedly told me about her day.

When we arrived, I hesitated. I wanted the girl to put on something a bit more substantial… right now she didn’t look much different from a stripper. It was always futile, though. Sighing and shaking my head, we stepped out of the car and went inside.

Soon we were seated. We ordered a medium supreme pizza. Sausage, pepperoni, olives, peppers, mushrooms (her favorite). Not many were here for dinner yet so we had our meal delivered rather quickly.

Naomi wolfed down the first piece of pizza, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She downed half a glass of water to wash it down. All of this inside of a minute and without pausing to say a word. After that, she ate at a more regular pace.

We began to talk again, chatting about the weather, my job, her art. She was very creative and loved to paint. People, flowers, landscapes, and she’d just painted a deer that she was dying to show me. As she talked, I couldn’t help but notice how her breasts seemed to jiggle ever-so-slightly with every word.

Naomi kept pace with me, finishing her second piece and then a third. On her fourth piece, an olive and a bit of sauce fell off and landed. Right. In. Her. Cleavage.

My niece blushed as her hands plucked out the olive and popped it in her mouth. She grabbed a napkin and quickly dabbed at the small spatter of tomato sauce bridging her deep valley. I admired the way her fingers and the napkin pressed into her flesh. Just like that, she’d wiped it up. She hadn’t looked at me, keeping quiet for a while.

“So how’s your sister?” I asked, hoping to break the awkward silence.

“Oh, she’s fine. Doing very well in college. She’s very smart, very successful,” Naomi smiled, before it melted away into a slight frown.

“She’s very smart alright, etiler üniversiteli escort but she’s never had your talent for art or your outgoing personality,” I reminded her, trying to cheer her up.

“Thank you uncle Peter, you’re so nice. You believe in me no matter what, even when my parents are mad at me you’re still my friend,” she grinned.

“I can’t ignore talent when I see it,” I added, noting that I also could not ignore such massive breasts when I saw them. Naomi went back to eating her dinner, finishing up that troublesome fourth slice.

It never ceases to amaze me how much pizza this girl could put away. Or food and drink in general. I guess she did need quite a few calories with her active lifestyle and… well, the other obvious thing. Food and water went in one end, milk came out the other. Lactating women needed quite a few extra calories and I’m sure she needed more than most.

“I hope I’m not eating too much!” she worried.

“Not at all, eat your share, I wasn’t planning on leftovers anyway,” I replied. Naomi grinned and her hands darted for another slice.

“Your parents must never feed you,” I chuckled.

“Oh they do, very well, I just, well, I need a lot!” the busty blonde explained.

At that moment, a dark spot began to form over her left nipple. Then her right. Milk was beginning to soak through her bra and into her shirt. She’d been leaking this whole time.

“Oh no!” she cried out in realization.

“Relax, relax!” I attempted to calm her. I pulled out my wallet and quickly pulled out enough bills for the pizza and a tip before scattering them on the table. We left through the front door in a hurry and hopped into my car. Naomi clutched at her chest, attempting to hide the wet spots that soon eclipsed her small hands.

My companion grew increasingly anxious as our drive continued, and breathed heavily. In the mirror, I could make out her pained expression. Poor thing. She needed to get home fast.

In a few minutes we arrived at her house. Her dad’s car was gone, meaning he’d left to rendezvous with my sister for a night out. It would be just us. I hopped out and rushed Naomi inside, and she ran into her room and shut the door.

Struggling to control my urges, I sat down in a reclining chair. I’ve had recurring fantasies, both in my dreams and in my waking hours. The premise is always quite similar: Naomi’s breast pump breaks or she’s away from home with me. Being the good uncle I am, I eagerly feed from her healthy young tits. I tried to shake the thoughts off.

They’d been getting worse lately.

It was then that I heard a faint sobbing from the bedroom. There had been no sound of pumping. Concerned, I stood up and crept toward her door.

“Oh God it hurts so much,” Naomi whimpered.

I knocked on the door and she went silent for a moment.

“Uncle Peter?” she asked, her voice strained from pain and tears.

“Are you okay in there? Do you need anything?” I asked.

There was a long pause.

“My pump broke,” she finally answered. I swallowed. This couldn’t be happening.

“Don’t you have a spare?” I asked, referring to her hand pump.

“I forgot it in my mom’s car. It’s more portable, so I take it with me when I leave,” she began to descend into tears again.

“Can I call your parents so they can bring it?”

“They’re on a night out together, they never pick up,” she lamented.

“There has to be something I can do for you,” I urged.

Again, there was a substantial pause, interrupted only by soft sobbing.

“Come in here,” she answered at last.

This was it.

I turned the doorknob and stepped inside. Naomi sat next to the bed, her back to me, hunched over her pump. It was hospital grade and had two flanges to empty both breasts at the same time. The thing wouldn’t even start.

I took in my surroundings as I approached. There was the deer painting that she was so proud of. Only now, she was in so much pain that it was the last thing on her mind. A beautiful work of art, that I would have to admire some other time.

Due to her profuse production, Naomi suffered from violent engorgement if she did not strictly obey her pumping schedule. Her breasts may have been larger than her head, but even they had their limits. I kneeled down behind her and hesitantly placed my hands on her shoulders. She was calmed slightly.

“It hurts so much!” my niece cried.

“Baby, how did it get this bad so fast?” I asked.

“I didn’t pump very much before we left to the restaurant, hardly any at all, I was too excited-” she started.

“Oh, Naomi,” I sighed.

“Please, I need them emptied, I need you to help me,” she pleaded. There was an implication in her statement, and I picked up on it.

“I know what you need,” I whispered. Her sobbing ceased.

I stood up and guided Naomi up and onto her bed. I instructed her to sit down with her back against the wall. With some hesitation, I climbed onto the bed fatih escort and laid across her legs. My head rested in her lap, my nose rubbing up against her damp shirt.

My niece tugged at the bottom of her grey (now a shade darker) shirt. My eyes widened when her soaked bra and pendulous breasts came into view. They hung down past her bellybutton, reaching almost to her shorts. They weren’t just bigger than her head, they dwarfed it.

Naomi pulled the soaked shirt over her head and cast it aside. Droplets of milk dribbled through the fabric of her bra, landing on her bare legs and the bed. Finally, the girl began to unclasp her bra, not even bothering to use the nursing flaps. She tore the whole thing off and threw it over me.

Her breasts flopped down, sagging past her waist and settling in her lap as they lost their support against gravity. Each tit was the size of a watermelon, and possibly as heavy. They were tanned, save for the pale lines where various straps and bras had shielded them from the summer sun. Deep dark blue veins crisscrossed the surface of each hemisphere.

Her areolae were wide, bumpy, and dark pink. Each nipple was stiff, moist, and could gouge an eye out. They looked well-worn, almost rugged. Milk began to spray slightly as the woman attached to the breasts breathed in anticipation.

I reached for her left breast and gently placed my fingers on it. It was hard to the touch and burning hot. Not anything like the jiggling masses of breast tissue I’d known two hours ago. I grabbed on and attempted to maneuver the tit toward my mouth, my fingers sinking in. Naomi winced and inhaled sharply, my grip causing milk to spray against my chest.

She was under so much pressure.

I wrapped my lips around her nipple and began to suckle. I had little idea of what I was doing, but after some coaching, I was beginning to drain her. There was so much warm milk.

This was heaven. I didn’t even make an effort to hide my erection anymore. The bulge in my jeans rubbed up against her knee as I wrapped myself around the girl. Ounce after ounce of sweet creamy milk flowed.

The breast began to soften up. The other breast, however, was getting full and out of desperation she began to express it right into her leg and the bedsheets. As she pinched and massaged the tip of her breast, milk flowed out in thick hot streams, six or seven at a time.

I sensed her desperation and switched sides before I’d finished her right breast. My legs rested up on her pillows at the head of her bed. By now the entire bed was starting to become a bit damp as her milk worked its way through every sheet and spread as wide as it could reach.

Latching on to this second, even fuller breast was a challenge. There was simply so much milk gushing out. It was difficult to keep up with. Milk sprayed the back of my mouth, threatening to drown me. My cock grew harder at the thought of the idea, grazing Naomi’s leg.

I worried for a second that she might have felt that.

She had.

Naomi put her hand on my head and pulled me into her breast. I was smothered in titflesh as she began to run her fingers through my hair. I couldn’t see a thing as I continued to suckle but felt safe at a primal, instinctive level. Every now and then my tongue gave her throbbing, distended nipple a probing tickle or two.

“Mmmf, nnnffff, mmmm, mmmmm,” she moaned.

It was not a moan of relief. It was one of lust.

The girl’s free right hand brushed my side before I felt her breasts shift. There was a wet noise and a slight gasp. Then the sound of regular friction and massaging. She was masturbating while I nursed her.

“I’ve heard men like big breasts. Do you like my big milky breasts uncle Peter?” she cooed.

“Mmhmm,” I mumbled in response.

“They’re so big, they make so much milk, I love them so much. Do you love them?”

“Mmmpff.”

“I’ve never had anyone nurse from me before. I had no idea it could feel so good.”

Neither did I.

I continued to suckle while my niece masturbated and spewed warm milk into my hungry mouth. Despite the pizza earlier I was still finding room for her sea of milk. Naomi began to pant as she neared climax.

“Milk me!” she begged.

It was too much. I quickly unzipped my pants, not even pausing my suckling for a second. I took more of her breast even deeper into my mouth as her fingers clutched at my head. I released my cock and began to stroke it furiously.

My head rubbed up against her toned legs every now and then as I curled up tighter around the blonde. Feeling my cock brushing up against her led her to climax. She shook briefly, and her breasts began to letdown. Milk flowed faster than ever and I struggled to keep up.

Her right breast, still half-full, was now spraying cream onto her legs. Once Naomi recovered, she grabbed onto the nozzle and aimed it at my cock, soaking it completely in seconds. The milk acted as a lubricant and only served to turn me on even more.

“I want you to milk me forever and ever, Uncle Peter,” she whispered into my ear, before planting a kiss on my cheek.

My balls tensed up and I shot a load so hard into her thigh that Naomi was startled. I continued to suckle her udders until both were finally empty, while she stroked my hair and back. When I was done, I sat up and planted a kiss on her forehead.

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