Milking My Daughter

I yawned as I stepped through the door to the house, tossing my wallet and keys on the side table, rolling my shoulders and tilting my head side to side. I really hate parent-teacher nights; the parents you actually need to talk to never show up, and the ones who do always end up wasting your time, peppering you with pointless, repetitive questions. How many ways are there to say ‘your kid is doing fine, chill out’? At least they’d scheduled it on a Thursday this time, and I only had to survive one more day before I’d have the weekend to recharge. I sighed, shaking my head, and headed for the kitchen, finding the remains of the pizza I’d had the girls order sitting in the fridge, grabbing a slice and deciding to eat it cold. I’d gone out for an early supper with the rest of the math department the way we always did on parent-teacher nights, but that had been hours ago, and I needed the snack. Besides which, it gave me something to do while I continued the process of shedding the night’s stress before I’d go and tell the girls that I was home.

I smiled happily, as I always did at the thought of my girls. It was just the three of us, ever since my wife died in a car accident when they’d been little. I hadn’t known how we were going to make it, especially with the girls being so young at the time. But somehow, with plenty of help from family and colleagues, not to mention from the girls themselves, we’d pulled together and made it through. I still feel guilty, thinking about how that tragedy had aged them both beyond their years… but I couldn’t possibly be more proud of the beautiful, mature young women they had become.

I went and knocked on my youngest’s door first, careful to wait for the response before I entered; that was an iron-clad rule at our house, instituted a couple of years back after the pair of them had stormed into my room looking for a referee during a fight they’d been having, and they’d nearly seen much more than they’d wanted to while I was getting changed.

“Hi, Daddy! How was it tonight?” Andi twisted and smiled up at me from where she was lounged out on her bed with her phone. I could hardly believe she was a senior in high school now—eighteen already, but she still looked so much younger, at least to me! However old she got, I couldn’t quite get the image of her as a little girl playing with her dollies out of my mind. She was already ready for bed, her loose cotton sleep shirt having ridden up enough to reveal the cute little pink cotton panties she was wearing underneath. I studiously avoided noticing as I sat down beside her; it was a skill, and one I was good at. You couldn’t survive long as a male high school teacher without learning how not to notice the bodies of teenage girls, even when they were doing everything they possibly could to make you notice them. Keeping my eyes averted from my daughter’s accidental panty-flash was a piece of cake, in comparison.

“Don’t get me started!” I smirked, caressing her side, leaning down to give her a kiss in her hair. “You girls throw a big party while I was out?”

“Huge!” she agreed with a giggle, then suddenly grew serious, chewing on her lip. “Did you tell ‘Chellie you’re home yet? ‘Cause I think there might be something wrong with her. She’s barely come out of her room since she got home.”

“Any idea what it is?” I asked, echoing her concern.

“Boys, maybe?” she shrugged. “She wouldn’t tell me. She’s just been hiding in her room with her music turned up.”

“Guess we’ll see if I have any better luck. Don’t stay up too late, okay? And thanks for telling me.”

“I won’t. Night, Daddy. Love you!”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” I said, leaning down again to give her another kiss in her hair before pushing myself to my feet. I closed her door behind me, noticing just how loud Chellie’s music actually was as I got closer to her door.

“Chellie? I’m home.” I called, knocking firmly to make sure she’d hear me. I waited, and was just about to knock again when the door was thrown open and my eldest came barrelling out to fling herself against my chest. The girls were both within a hair of five-two, and skinny, just like their mom had been, but even at six-one and fairly muscular Chellie still hit me with enough momentum to set me back on my heels.

“I broke my pump!” she wailed, sobbing, and I winced in sympathy as I suddenly understood.

Michelle has a medical condition. It isn’t anything dangerous, thank God, but she has a hormone issue that kicked in when she hit puberty, causing increased breast development and making her lactate. Not an easy thing for a young girl to go through, especially one who didn’t have a mom around anymore to help her through it. She’d impressed the hell out of me though, with the way she’d coped; I’d been a total basket case until the doctors ruled out the possibility of breast cancer as the cause, but Chellie had been a rock throughout. We’ve gotten pretty used to dealing with it all now, with her lactation pump, and her special E-cup bras with the replaceable milk shields to keep her from leaking through. She still gets really self-conscious at all the attention her breasts bring her, not just from boys her own age, but from grown men, too. And she hates that we have to go bra shopping for her in maternity stores! But other than that, she’s mostly doing okay. With a broken pump, though…

“Let’s just see if I can get it working again, shall we?” I asked, rubbing my hands comfortingly up and down her back and kissing her hair. She nodded and backed away, letting me into her room and stepping over to her computer to turn down her music. She was wearing a loose black t-shirt, her favourite colour the last few years for the way it minimized her figure, and pink jogging shorts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, which was normal when she was getting ready for bed, the thick buds of her nipples poking out against her shirt. She took a seat on the edge of her bed, crossing her arms and gingerly cupping herself, whimpering softly.

“Did it just break when you were getting ready for bed?” I asked, kneeling down next to the machine to see what we were dealing with. She already had the owner’s manual out on the floor next to it, obviously having tried some troubleshooting by herself before I got home.

“This afternoon,” she shook her head. “It was working fine this morning… but when I got home from class it wouldn’t even turn on! I’ve tried everything!”

I winced again, considering just how full and uncomfortable she must be feeling if she hadn’t been able to express since that morning, and started working through the manual. Not that I didn’t believe her that she’d already done so… but when all you have are straws, you grasp at them as hard as you can.

“Well… that’s the last of it,” I reluctantly announced as I came to the end of the manual. “Looks like we’re getting you a new one. I’ll go pick one up as soon as I’m off work tomorrow. You liked this one, right? Until today? Or is there a different model you want me to get you instead?”

“I like this one,” she sniffled, and I went to sit beside her, wrapping my arm around her back and pulling her close.

“Have you tried by hand?” I asked, at a loss for what else to suggest.

“It barely works at all!” she nodded slowly, the tears welling up and starting to fall once more. “I got a few tiny little squirts… but they’re too full now! It hurts even more doing it that way than not doing it at all!”

“I know, baby. I know!” I murmured into her hair. “God, I wish there was something I could do to make it better!”

“Umm…” she said, shyly lowering her eyes and biting her lip.

“Chell?” I asked, confused.

“Do you think…” she paused, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slow, gathering her courage. “Do you think… maybe you could suck it out?”

“Baby, I…” I began, shocked into silence by the idea and shaking my head.

“Please, Daddy?” she begged, looking up into my eyes once more. “You know I’d never ask if it wasn’t an emergency! It hurts so bad! I need to get my milk out! There’s no way I can wait like this until tomorrow!”

“Are you sure, baby?” I asked doubtfully. “I mean, really, really sure?”

She didn’t speak, but she stood, stepping over to close and lock her door. Then she turned to look at me again, nervously biting her lip, and slowly, deliberately took off her shirt.

I was fair to say I was in shock. Chellie’s breasts had been a fairly central part of our lives for a long time now, dealing with all her various inconveniences. But in all that time, over all the various doctor’s visits and shopping trips, I’d never actually seen them. They were… well, okay, best just to say it, I suppose… They were fucking incredible! Huge, obviously, especially when the rest of her was so short and slender, but I’d known that part. Hannah, the girls’ mother, had only ever risen to a largish C-cup, even at her biggest point while breastfeeding. Not that I’d ever had a single complaint in that regard, mind you… but Chellie’s were enormous! And firm, too, way more than breasts that size had any right to be, even if she was still young enough she had yet to start worrying about the effects of gravity. Her skin was flawless; pale, with soft pink areolas about the size of old silver dollars, erect and immensely suckable-looking nipples the size of nickles. That was Hannah’s Swedish genetics coming through, no doubt about that… my girls were every bit as blonde-haired and grey-eyed as she’d been. There was maybe just the tiniest touch of my blue in that grey, under just the right lighting… but their hair was one hundred percent their mother’s, not a trace of my black.

“Are they okay, Daddy?” she asked, breaking me out of my thoughts as she lowered her eyes to look at herself. “Only… you were kind of staring, a little.”

“They’re beautiful, baby. Just like the rest of you,” I reassured her, swallowing past a sudden lump in my throat. “Sorry if I was staring.”

“That’s okay,” she said, a tiny smile quirking the corner of her mouth, there for a flash and then gone again. She seemed frozen in place, and I extended my hand, letting her take it and slowly drawing her towards me on the bed. I sat back a little further, and she paused again, then climbed tentatively into my lap straddling me. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry in my nervousness. I looked questioningly into her eyes one more time, and she just nodded quietly, her hands on my shoulders. I put my hands on her hips, sliding my right slowly upwards. Time seemed to extend… an hour elapsed in the space of perhaps five seconds. Then I was cupping her, feeling the weight of her in my hand. I felt her fingers in my hair, stroking, applying gentle pressure downwards. I bent my head, feeling the subtle warmth of her nipple in the barest kiss of my lips, and opened my mouth to take it inside.

She moaned loudly as my lips closed around that firm little bud, the tip of my tongue flicking across her flesh, exploring. The pressure on the back of my head increased, pulling my lips against the firm but yielding flesh of her breast, as I hesitatingly began to suck. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise… that was the whole point of what we were doing, after all! But somehow I’d expected it to take a little while, like priming a pump or something. I certainly hadn’t expected a jet of hot, sweet-tasting milk shooting onto my tongue on my very first attempt, slipping straight down my throat as I reflexively swallowed.

“There’s a garbage can beside my desk, if you want to spit it out…” she offered in sudden embarrassment, I guess misinterpreting my surprise as distaste. I stopped her as she tried leaning over to grab the can for me.

“Why on earth would I want to do that?” I smiled, slowly shaking my head. “You taste good, baby!”

“You don’t have to say that…” she blushed doubtfully, looking away, unable to meet my eyes. My answer was to take her back between my lips, sucking a little harder this time, grinning up at her around her nipple as I watched her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure.

“I haven’t lied to you since the day you told me you no longer believed in Santa Clause. I’m not about to start now!” I mumbled into her breast, making her giggle. “You are delicious, baby! You were never curious enough to try for yourself?”

“Well… maybe a little…” she admitted shyly. I laughed, and she pretended to take offence, playfully squishing herself into my face, momentarily cutting off my air. I replied with a gentle nip of my teeth, making her squeak adorably in surprise and causing her to back off to a more comfortable pressure for us both.

I surrendered complete control, letting her transfer me back and forth between her breasts however she wished, until she finally declared herself empty. That happened maybe two or three minutes after I’d thought she was empty, and I’d stopped receiving any more milk… But whether she’d honestly thought she’d still had more to give, or she was just enjoying the feeling of my sucking, I sure wasn’t going to be the one to put an end to it before she was ready.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she smiled shyly, sitting back slightly out of range of my lips, lovingly caressing my cheek with her hand. “You have no idea how much I needed that tonight!”

“I’d do anything for you, baby. You know that.” I told her, stroking her hips.

“I do,” she smiled. “But still… I want you to know how much it means to me.”

She took a sudden preparatory breath, steeling her nerve as she stared deeply into my eyes, and before I’d realized what she was intending she’d leaned in to kiss me fully on the mouth.

“Was that okay?” she asked, shyly lowering her eyes again as she pulled away from the kiss. “You aren’t angry at me that I did that, are you?”

“I, uhhh…” I hemmed, trying to knock my brain back into gear to figure out how to respond. “It just came as a surprise, is all, baby. No, I’m not angry at you.”

“Okay, good!” she breathed out a sigh of relief, leaning in and nuzzling against the side of my neck. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, stroking my hands up and down her slender, naked back. We stayed like that a long time, silently cuddling. It should have felt strange, with my daughter’s huge, naked breasts pressed firmly against my chest, but somehow it didn’t. I think both of us were just quietly coming to grips with what we’d just done together, neither of us wanting to leave the other alone quite yet.

“I can pay you back now, if you’d like…” she said some time later, her voice barely more than a whisper against the side of my neck.

“I think you’ll get a lot less milk, and a lot more chest hair, if you try that with me!” I chuckled.

“Not when it isn’t your nipples I’ll be sucking…” she murmured, kissing the side of my neck. It took me a moment to catch up to her meaning, so unprepared I was to hear such a suggestion. I pushed her back from me a little, so I could look her in her eyes, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze, blushing brightly as she stared down at my chest.

“You can’t tell me you don’t want it!” she continued bashfully. “I’ve been feeling you trying to burst your way out of your pants ever since you let me into your lap!”

“I… I’m sorry, baby… I don’t really have any control over that.” I said, ridden with sudden guilt.

“Don’t be silly, Daddy! You don’t have anything to apologize for! And… it isn’t like I don’t like feeling you responding to me that way…”

“You do?” I gasped.

“Totally!” she giggled, vigorously nodding her head, playfully rocking her hips into my lap to illustrate her point. “And now… I really want to pay you back for what you just did for me, Daddy! If you’ll let me?”

“I appreciate the offer, baby, really I do… but there’s no need to pay me back. And that is such a bad idea!”

“I doesn’t have to be…” she continued, slowly shaking her head. “Don’t you miss it? I mean, you don’t date… you haven’t even tried, ever since Mom.”

“I’ve had other things on my mind, baby,” I smiled, reaching up and running my fingers through her hair. “It’s not like I can’t take care of myself, whenever I need to.”

“But I want you to let me take care of you!” she pleaded.

“Baby, I—”

“Please, Daddy?” It’s just as well that she cut me off, because I had no idea what I was going to say. “I promise, it isn’t like this is just some spur of the moment thing, that I’m going to regret in the morning… I’ve been thinking about this for a while, now! I want to do it!”

“You have?” I gasped.

“It’s all any of my girlfriends ever talk about, how much they’ve all done with boys, and with who!” she said, smiling shyly. “I’m in university, now, and I’ve still never done anything! But I want to, Daddy! I’m ready to! It’s just… I don’t want to do it with some loser frat-boy who only wants me for my boobs, and who’s going to go and tell all his friends about it the moment we’re finished! I want to do it with someone who I know loves me… someone like you, Daddy! And it doesn’t hurt that you’re so danged sexy, too!”

“Of course I love you, sweetie! I love you and your sister more than anything! But it’s a different kind of love from what you’re suggesting…” I said, trying not to think about the last bit of what she’d said. My gorgeous little nineteen year old daughter thought I was sexy? God, help me!

“Is it really, though?” she asked, stroking her fingers through my hair. She leaned in, slowly, and kissed me again. And this time, I could feel her carefully probing at my lips with the tip of her tongue.

I tried to resist, really I did, but she just kept kissing me. She wasn’t being insistent about it, wasn’t trying to force her tongue between my lips… she was just being patiently, seductively persistent, willing to keep it up for however long it took until I gave in. A sudden image of waves crashing against a shore sprung unbidden to my mind; the waves may not look like they’re accomplishing much, in the short term, but give them enough time and I knew they always won out in the end. And then she took my hand, moving it to her breast again, guiding me into squeezing and fondling her with her hand on top of mine. I started kissing her back, moaning softly, opening my lips. She instantly redoubled her efforts, her soft, swirling tongue surprising me with its length as she drove it deeply into my mouth, pulling herself tightly against me. I found my other hand gripping her cute little ass without any conscious memory of having placed it there; she responded eagerly, grinding herself into my lap.

“Please, Daddy!” she moaned into my mouth. “I want to see it… I want to suck on it!” I gasped as she gently bit my lower lip. “I want to give you a blowjob! I want to suck your cock! Please, Daddy! Lay down in my bed! Let me pay you back for what you just did for me! Let me take care of you the way you deserve!”

I must have been insane… but I felt myself moving further back into her bed, twisting to my side to lay back with my head finding her pillow as she crawled up on top of me, her lips never leaving mine. She started with my shirt, fumbling blindly in her struggle with the buttons, the two of us working together finally managing to get it off and send it to the floor. Her soft, beautiful lips traced the line of my jaw, my neck, my chest. She rubbed her cute little button of a nose through my chest hair, giggling as she tickled herself. She breathed deep, taking in the scent of my sweat after a too-long day at school… and against all common sense apparently enjoying it! She spent token kisses on each of my nipples, grinning at me impishly as she briefly sucked and licked, but she wasn’t going to let them detour her for long. Soon she was working her way down my abdomen, hands on my belt, my pants quickly joining my shirt on the floor. She paused, meeting my eyes and taking a deep breath, then looked down again and yanked my boxers to my knees.

“God!” Chellie moaned, softly taking hold of me and angling me upright in her hand, looking me slowly up and down, visually exploring all nine inches of my thick, hard cock. “Mom was a lucky, lucky girl, Daddy!”

I laughed, stroking my fingers through her hair, and she smiled shyly. She bit her lip, thinking, apparently deciding it was worth the brief delay to get rid of my boxers completely and send them to join the rest of my clothes on the floor. She returned to her prior position, slowly stroking me balls to crown in her hand a few times, then slowly leaned forward, depositing a soft, slow kiss directly on my tip. She giggled, presumably at the stupid expression that had just crossed my face at the first contact of her lips, and kissed me there again.

She was slow, but not tentative; there was never a single moment’s doubt that this wasn’t exactly what she wanted to be doing. I tried to just lay back and let her do it at her own pace, stroking my fingers through her hair to let her know how good it felt, careful not to moan too loudly for risk of letting Andi hear, or to accidentally put any pressure on the back of her head that she might misinterpret as dissatisfaction with the way she was doing it on her own. It was slow going… not that she wasn’t doing a fantastic job, she most definitely was!