“It’s almost been too long, hasn’t it, Téa? Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on in your life?” Connie crossed her legs and sipped at her coffee.
“Um…I’m still seeing Gordon. It’s going well. I had a good dom session with Poz. I love it and hate it when he puts the breast pump on me. Vicky hired me to do occasional work for them. I had my first session where I let a stranger suck on my tits. It was oddly erotic and turned me on. I gave him a handjob and earned two hundred dollars.”
Connie had heard a lot during her time as a therapist. Sometimes it came out in dribs and drabs. Sometimes all in a rush, like with Galatéa just now. Usually it was just one big bit of information with details. While she hadn’t made any immediate notes while Galatéa had talked, she now wanted to scribble down several bullet points.
Connie tried to remember all of these points while she looked at Galatéa and said, “That’s quite a busy week you’ve had.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Can you tell me more?”
“More?” Galatéa laughed nervously. “I think that I’ve done more than enough. I don’t want you thinking I’m a criminal or something.”
“You did say that you performed a sex act for money…”
“Oh. No. You have it all wrong. I gave him a handjob because I wanted to. The money was for letting him nurse from me.”
“I think from his perspective that was still a sexual act.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe. And I did enjoy it. But it’s not like I’m a prostitute. I don’t need the money.”
“The preferred term now is sex worker. I’ve counseled more than a couple of sex workers. I see nothing wrong with it—morally, at least. The law tends to see things differently, but cops tend to focus on the cliché streetwalkers rather than ones who are discrete. But we’re getting off topic here. The important question I want to ask you is: are you happy? Do you think life is worth living again?”
Connie paused and looked meaningfully at Galatéa. The younger woman knew the answer to the question right away, but being confronted with it was unsettling.
She remembered why she had come to Connie in the first place.
It wasn’t just because of the death of her husband.
It was because she was afraid she was going to take her mother away from Jessie.
“Yeah, life is worth living. Of course it is. What a…what a crazy question!”
Galatéa was panting heavily but at the same time was trying to control herself. Once again she was on the verge of orgasm and it was all because Gordon was sucking on her tits, drinking her milk. She barely had her shirt open and her bra pulled down. He was fully dressed though she was certain his hard cock was pressing against her leg as they cuddled together on his bed.
She had absolutely no intention of doing or saying anything until she came. Galatéa had thought ahead and brought an extra pair of panties in her large purse, where she also kept a camisole and absorbent breast pads. This was all part of her now routine emergency supplies. It was weird enough to bring them to Gordon’s place, but they had been secretly hiding in her bag while she had been at Connie’s office.
“Don’t…” she breathed softly.
And then Gordon stopped before she could finish her statement of “don’t stop.”
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
It was nice that he was polite and didn’t want to cause her harm or injury, but by asking the question he had completely ruined the rhythm of his nursing and her orgasm seemed to ebb away, lost forever to the ether.
“Fuck! No. You weren’t hurting me,” she complained angrily. “But I was about to cum when you stopped.”
“You said ‘don’t,’” Gordon said.
“I couldn’t finish,” she continued. “I wanted to say ‘don’t stop!’“
“You should have just said ‘yes’ a few hundred times.”
She was mad at him for what she thought was a good reason. The real problem was that she had gotten an hour of emotional and intellectual analysis from Connie before meeting with the man who wasn’t exactly her boyfriend but there wasn’t really a better term for him.
Everything that Connie had said was true and while that was good, having her therapist point out some uncomfortable truths about her life was unsettling to Galatéa.
Unsettling, maybe, but she wasn’t going to change anything about her life. She liked her life and Connie had helped her see some harsh realities.
“You don’t understand!” she complained and pulled away from him, pulling her bra into place, hiding away her breasts.
“Uh…yeah. I guess I don’t. Why don’t you explain?”
“I saw Connie today. My therapist.”
“Yeah. I know who she is…”
“And she called me a whore.”
Gordon was taken aback. “A whore?”
“Well, a sex worker. Close enough.”
“There’s no shame in an honest day’s work,” he commented.
“I’m not ashamed,” she said, lifting her chin. “I don’t need the money. I did it for the fun of it.”
“Well, I’m glad that I can say my girlfriend is a proud sex worker and not a whore,” replied Gordon.
She glared at him. “You think I’m your girlfriend?”
“How would you describe yourself in your relation to me?”
“Connie and I discussed that for too long.”
“What was your answer?”
She sighed dramatically. “Boyfriend or companion is what we settled on.”
“So…that would make you my girlfriend.”
“It seems a better title than tit sucker.”
“Are you angry at me?” he asked.
Galatéa clenched her jaw. “No. I’m just dealing with some…harsh realities.”
“Aren’t we all?”
She was about to snap at him that he didn’t have the faintest idea of what she was dealing with: a baby at home, losing her partner, depression, and everything else, but then she realized he knew exactly what she was going through. He was living through almost exactly the same things she was.
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
“Did Connie give you too much to think about?”
“Probably.”
“Do you want to go home and maybe think some things over before we resume this?” he graciously offered.
“What? No!”
“So…you’re good with resuming? Because I know you pretty well at this point and your boobs are only half empty, at best. You’ve got a lot more milk in them and I’m pretty turned on.”
She blinked uncomprehendingly at him. “What?”
“Do you want me to repeat that exactly?”
Galatéa shook her head. “No. I just thought that maybe you wanted to call a break on our relationship for a bit for me to think things over.”
“Hell no,” he said. “I just thought that maybe you needed to clear your head. You’ve had a lot going on lately. Your daughter. John. Us. Doing sex work. All of that.”
“I think I need you to suck on my tits and make me cum,” she told him.
“I can do that.”
Sex wasn’t love. Even perverted, kinky sex wasn’t love. Galatéa knew that. But the rush of sex and the release that accompanied it was a good temporary substitute.
Galatéa started to pull her breasts back out of her bra, but then realized she didn’t need to deal with the pain of the straps cutting into her skin while Gordon nursed and just reached under the band to pull it over her head.
Once free, she quickly offered her breasts to Gordon. He didn’t complain and immediately set to nursing from her. He had only been at it for a few seconds before she felt his hand pulling at the waistband of her yoga pants.
Wanting to be accommodating, even though she would have been thrilled to have a nice simple nipple orgasm, she helped him pull down her pants and underwear. Much to her surprise he didn’t immediately start to finger her. Instead he cupped her pussy with his hand, feeling the heat and moisture leaking from her sex, as he nursed.
It didn’t take long before she was on edge again. As much as she wanted his finger, fingers, or cock inside her, he made no attempt to penetrate. He was happy to just have her tits for the moment.
The orgasm was pleasant. It wasn’t earth shattering but it was what she needed right then and there.
“I love watching you cum,” he told her.
“Fuck me,” she said as she pulled at his belt, trying to get his pants off.
“What?”
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I need to cum again.”
He watched her fumble with his belt for a bit. “I could just suck your tits some more.
“No. I need cock.”
“You sound a little slutty,” he pointed out. She managed to get the belt unbuckled but was now stymied by the pant’s button and zipper.
Glancing up at Gordon, she said, “I let strangers suck my tits. I give handjobs for money. Doesn’t that sound like a slut to you?”
“Sounds more like a whore,” he replied.
“Asshole.” She got his pants open and fished into his underwear for his cock. He was already delightfully erect. “Put it in me.”
There was some fumbling around as they got into position. Gordon barely got his pants off all the way; he found it distracting to just have his pants down during sex. He didn’t have time to remove his socks or shirt; those didn’t really matter.
No effort was needed to sink his cock into her pussy. Galatéa was soaking wet. Going into her he found her pussy to be fiery hot. She moaned deeply as he filled her. He thrusted for less than a minute before it was all too much and he came. It was just enough for her; Galatéa came just as he peaked.
“Okay, that might not have been my shortest time ever, except maybe for my first time, but that was fucking intense,” he said trying to cover up the shame of being too quick on the draw.
“It was nice,” she said dreamily.
“How much time do we have?” he asked.
“Not nearly enough.”
He grunted and rolled off her. When she opened her eyes she started giggling.
“What?” Gordon demanded.
Galatéa just pointed at his chest. “You’ve got a couple of wet spots.”
Looking down he saw that while laying on top of her, Galatéa’s breasts hadn’t stopped leaking. She had a lot more milk left than he would have guessed. The two wet spots were each a couple of inches in diameter.
“That…interesting.”
“You’d better change before going back to work. They’ll see that you had kinky sex today,” she said. “This is exactly why I carry an extra bra in my bag.”
“If anything sounds slutty, it’s that,” said Gordon as he pulled off his shirt. He did have a meeting shortly and appearing on Zoom with two wet spots on his shirt would certainly raise eyebrows if it didn’t spawn a few questions.
“I’m happy with who I am.”