Holly – Part 1

Early Wednesday mornings at Walmart are wonderful. There are only a few people in the aisles, checkout lines are short, and there are always at least a dozen pregnant women shopping. I love looking at their bulging bellies and large milk filled breasts … I just can’t help myself … pregnant women have always turned me on.

The Wednesday before my birthday was a day I’ll never forget. As I was shopping I saw a very short very pretty pregnant lady pushing her cart towards me. It was Holly … a attractive lady who had worked in the cubical next to mine for six months just before I retired last year. Even though she wasn’t more than 5 feet tall her body was perfectly proportioned. She was mid to late thirties, had jet black hair, firm breasts, great legs, and always a smile on her pretty pixie face. She laughed when she saw me, hugged me, and stopped to talk. “Ray, how are you? You look great,” she said. I replied, “I’m fine. I see that you and your husband Brad have been busy.” She laughed and told me she was almost seven months pregnant. We talked for a couple of minutes when I noticed wet spots starting to spread on her blouse below her breasts. I whispered, “Holly, I think you are leaking.” She was embarrassed and said, “Can I borrow your handkerchief?” I reached in my back pocket and handed it to her. She asked me to step closer to block anyone else’s view as she slid it into her bra. She opened the top buttons of her blouse and I glanced down and saw her ample breasts and cleavage while she placed the handkerchief over her nipples. She re-buttoned her blouse and thanked me for helping her. She promised to get the handkerchief back to me as soon as she could. We said our goodbyes and I finished shopping and checked out.

As I drove home I thought about Holly and how she had helped me through my wife’s passing away 18 months ago. Gina had been the love of my life and my best friend. We had been happily married for 25 years. And then she got cancer. We fought the good fight but it wasn’t enough. I was devastated and the funeral had been a blur. I went back to work right away just to stay busy. Holly had just started working in the cubicle across from mine about 2 months before the funeral. On my first day back there was a stick note saying ‘You are not alone, H’. Every day for the next month there was another encouraging note. We started to have lunch together almost every day and she let me vent and cry when I needed to. Before we knew it we were good friends. One morning I woke up and smiled … the first time in a long time. I had to be at work early for a conference call. I left a sticky note on Holly’s computer with a smiley face and my initials. We had a department meeting that afternoon and when it was over I asked Holly to stay for a minute using the excuse that I had a spreadsheet question. When everyone else had left I closed the door. I said, “Holly … Thank you for the last month. I don’t know how I would have made it without your friendship.” I gave her a hug and a kiss on her forehead. She said, “That’s what friends are for.”

About four o’clock that same afternoon my phone rang. It was Holly and she wanted to know if I would come to her house for dinner at six. She said, “I want to return your handkerchief and would love to cook for you as a thank you.” I said, “Yes. Can I bring anything?” “No, I have everything. Come in through the garage and I’ll see you then,” she replied and said goodbye. She only lived a couple of miles from me so I arrived on time. I walked through the garage and knocked on the door. Holly opened the door smiling and ushered me into the house. She had already set the table and began to plate the food. We sat down and chatted as we ate. She told me Brad was working in Germany for three months but would be home in two weeks. Then she got quiet for a minute and asked wistfully, “I haven’t seen Brad and I’m not sure if he will think I’m pretty. What do you think? I don’t feel pretty … just fat and pregnant.” I smiled and replied, “Holly, you are beyond pretty … you are absolutely beautiful.” She smiled and we continued chatting.

After a while I got up to clear the table and do the dishes. Holly protested but I told her to relax and take it easy. She said, “That’s easy for you to say. It seems like I’m tired all the time and can’t get anything done. And to be totally honest my breasts and nipples hurt all the time.” Holly had always been outspoken but I was surprised by her willingness to discuss her breasts. Wanting to help I told her that she may need a breast pump to relieve the full feeling and some nipple cream for the soreness. “How do you know so much about breasts?” she asked. I laughed and told her that I read a lot. “That’s great for tomorrow but what can I do now … they really hurt,” she whined. I told her, “There is a way I can help you now … but only if you really want me to.” “How can you help me?” she asked with an attentive look on her face. I hesitated for a moment … thought about how she was my friend and that I was being a dirty old man … then replied slowly, “I could suck the milk from your breasts to relieve the pressure and ease the soreness you are feeling.” She started to blush but her pain won out.