It had been a dream come true, these last few weeks, answering an ad online for a wet nurse that was so desperately needed. At least, that was what the ad had said, used that word, ‘desperately’.
As it was, Michelle was desperate, too.
No one asks to be blessed like she was, especially coming up in a rich area of the town she lived in, where the girls seemed to develop bulimic addictions before they graduated and the boys thought that they were entitled to putting their hands where they had no business putting them… because of their parents’ money.
She didn’t feel like she belonged. Transferring to this new town, to this new school, two states north of Texas and not a person her skin tone in sight. She heard it all from mean kids, things she’d never repeat, all because she was the only Hispanic in a district full of white and black kids.
Even if some of them had tried to befriend her, there was no shaking the feeling of being ostracized, of being belittled, and to make matters worse, Michelle had developed breasts that would rival the size of many heads, a pair of heavy tits that would demand the attention of any room…
At first, she was embarrassed. God, she was embarrassed of them. Attention from people she wanted nothing to do with was surely torture, but… before long, one night while Skyping with her friend, a girl that had gotten pregnant at seventeen, Michelle was met with the sight of her friend breastfeeding her child as they conversed.
And after the Skype session, Michelle couldn’t shake the feeling that… that she could do a better job of feeding that baby, of feeding anyone in the world, for days if she needed to… That was the point of her breasts. There could be no other purpose but that, to nurture another being from her literal teat.
She fancied it a temporary obsession, but… the months passed, the desire got stronger and stronger, and Michelle did her research.
Not looking to get pregnant yet, she looked up remedies to urge her blessed body into lactating, but there was no way to obtain a lot of the medications that could help her start lactating.
Thankfully, more homeopathic remedies existed, herbs and teas she ordered online, things people swore by. From Fennugreek to Milk Thistle, Michelle tanked her already low supply of minimum wage money into an overdraft, and… she needed to find a more profitable venture.
One online ad later, she found herself in front of what looked like a damned mansion in the uptown of the uptown, a gate with a camera and a speaker meeting her. She rolled the window down on her beater, and pressed the button.
“Who’s there..?” A voice came, a woman’s.
“Um… Michelle… I’m here about the ad..? We talked over the phone,” Michelle answered, looking at the little square screen of darkness that was transmitting her image to the house.
“Oh, m-” the gate buzzed loudly, and started to open, “Come on in, girl, please..! Just park it in fron-..!”
It seemed to cut off, but the woman’s tone was excited and exasperated, and Michelle wondered if she’d simply let go of her transmission in that desperation.
Regardless, she drove in, the beautiful green yard freshly cut, the scent of morning dew reaching Michelle’s senses as she parked in front of the home behind a row of three luxury cars. She was beginning to feel intimidated, getting a sensation of deja vu, thinking of the rich kids in high school that picked on her.
But she was here for a job, and she walked to the door and touched the doorbell, looking down to unbutton her blouse by one, giving her breasts that much more breathing room. Michelle figured that her validity in getting this job rested on her chest, so… lending more on the showcase couldn’t hurt. She just hoped the woman, Mrs. Stone, wasn’t threatened or thought she was a hussy.
Michelle could see a form stepping behind the glass-paned door, unlocking, opening it and seeing who she figured was the missus of the home, Mrs. Stone, whose eyes immediately fell onto the young woman’s heaving chest before saying in a hushed whisper, “Hi..! Come on, come in… Just…”
Her finger came up to her mouth, beckoning Michelle to follow her inside, and the prospective girl closed the door behind herself as she trailed behind Mrs. Stone and looked around the wonderful home. For how big it looked from the outside, the warm colors gave the abode a quaint expression, and what appeared to be a grand staircase flanking her right as the lady led Michelle into the first floor living room.
A fireplace was the obvious centerpiece to this room, real brick an obvious indicator that this home was built by rough hands, though how recent was a matter of debate.
Mrs. Stone took her seat on a luxury couch and patted the spot next to her, which Michelle graciously accepted, still noting how the older woman could hardly keep her eyes off her breasts. She let the woman speak first, who didn’t waste any time getting to business, “One hundred and fifty dollars.”
It took Michelle by surprise. They hadn’t discussed prices on their short phone call, which was maybe a bad idea before driving half an hour uptown, but seeing this home, she expected much more of a payday, “A week? That’s too low, I-”
“A day. Every day. Seven days a week, three or so hours a day,” Mrs. Stone added, looking entirely serious and making Michelle’s heart race. She did the math in her head. A cool thousand a week for a few hours of her time, to just… nurse babies.
“W- I-..,” Michelle began to stammer, immediately getting a, “Y- Yes.”
Mrs. Stone nodded, knowing she’d won the encounter, “Deal then. Tell me about your experience.”
The younger woman shook her head, sighing out like she was about to disappoint a mother, “I don’t have any… This is… my first dip into this type of thing.”
“Are you..,” Mrs. Stone circled her hands in a small circle, like she was bringing something forth, “… producing..?”
“I’m taking… herbs… A few remedies to help me lactate. Fenugreek, Milk Thistle… I can feel them heavier since I started a few weeks ago, but I just need some help with..,” Michelle got that out before Mrs. Stone interrupted her.
“With getting the milk out,” the woman answered very knowledgeably, unable to keep her eyes off Michelle’s chest for too long, “I’ve tried the same. I tried thistle, I tried medicine… It’s just not working for me. I’m ‘busted’, so to speak.”
Michelle didn’t want to pry. It seemed like it was a sensitive topic, needing another woman to feed your children, and she didn’t want to make Mrs. Stone uncomfortable, “… You can’t blame yourself.”
“I know..,” the older woman muttered, her hand feeling her own, admittedly smaller breast, “Well… Ready to start?”
Mrs. Stone introduced Michelle to the newborns, less than a month old, being fed off formula instead of what nature intended for them. It was unfair for Mrs. Stone, but now she had Michelle to give her children what they deserved.
Mae and Martin, twins. Mrs. Stone didn’t push staying for the first mock feeding, but Michelle had no qualms about their own mother witnessing her babies begin their first suckling.
Michelle felt like Mother Nature, unbuttoning her blouse completely and unhooking her bra to let those massive teats bounce haplessly as she sweetly took the first baby to her chest, the child immediately latching on without any help.
She shuddered, eyes closing as the very first human in the world got their mouth on her nipple, tiny creature barely able to get around Michelle’s hardened teat, but suckling like its life depended on it.
Having both children, Michelle didn’t even feel any fatigue holding the babies, unable to keep her eyes from the two as they smacked and their cheeks sucked in and tried their very hardest to take nurture from the new woman.
Even if nothing came out, Mrs. Stone considered this an investment, and still paid Michelle the full $150 for the day.
At the front of the home, before Michelle could leave, Mrs. Stone stopped the girl, “Michelle… Michelle, I just wanna say… thank you so much.”
The younger woman was surprised at how genuine the thanks was, nodding her head and absentmindedly rubbing her nipple over her blouse, noting how both of them were raw and ached but… felt so good. She felt like she needed to be thanking Mrs. Stone, but took her word, “My pleasure… Same time tomorrow?”
Mrs. Stone nodded, removing a small bottle from her pocket, “This is my Motilium… I had it prescribed at the hospital when I couldn’t make anything… Didn’t work, but… I’m positive you’ll make more use of it.”
She’d heard of Motilium. She’d tried to get her hands on it, but… in the US, it was near impossible without having children and needing it. Michelle took it from the woman and it was her turn to thank her.
Days passed, hours spent with the children, Mrs. Stone fed Michelle tea and sandwiches and made sure she was comfortable by letting the television on during the feedings. It was a dream come true, getting paid so well to basically do what she was born to do.
The television was just noise in the background. Every moment was spent watching Mae and Martin, until finally, on the eighth day, the children stopped fussing every few minutes from the lack of effective nurturing. It felt like a dam had broken, like a tangible flow had begun to trickle into the mouths of the two babes at her breasts, and Michelle called Mrs. Stone over for the good news.
In the week they’d known each other, Michelle had become a fine friend to the older woman, spending an extra hour or two to stay behind in her home and chat about their days. Michelle got the impression that Mrs. Stone was a lonely woman, that beyond all her money, what little friends she had were shallow and couldn’t understand her plight.
Michelle even met Mister Stone one evening, the tall dark-haired businessman greeting Michelle for a short few minutes, and the young woman got the same feeling she’d gotten from Mrs. Stone, the unshakable sense that both partners could hardly keep their eyes off her chest.
The two women started to hug before parting ways, Michelle’s breasts pressing against the other’s without much subtlety, and the trust between the two grew so large that Mrs. Stone trusted the young woman to be alone with her children, nurturing her babies in her stead while the missus ran errands.
This is how things were now for Michelle. She had so much money just from doing what she loved, ordering more of her herbs and remedies to continue her dream, all for just a few hours a day…
It was just a few days later when the Stones had a little homecooked dinner that Michelle found out just how much better things were about to get.
She was upstairs in the children’s room, letting the babes feed till their bellies were full of her milk, listening to the soft baby Mozart music from her phone and the muffled sounds of laughter downstairs from the parents. Today was a… an off sorta day. Michelle had arrived a bit later than she usually did, having received her delivery of herbs quite late at night the day prior and staying up to brew and drink to assure that her body was working overtime to produce.
Regardless of her tardiness, Mr. and Mrs. Stone were just glad to have her taking care of the twins while they cooked and ate together like the happy couple they were, and after putting the babies in their respective cribs and walking downstairs, Michelle found that the two adults had migrated to their living room to converse and less-than-subtly play with each other.
Mr. Stone had his mouth on his wife’s lips, his back to Michelle as she tried to tell them that she was about to head out, but Mrs. Stone noticed the wet nurse and gently pushed her husband away, “Martin… Michelle’s here.”
The husband, Martin Sr., looked to the young woman and nodded a silent greeting at her, and Michelle could tell that they’d been imbibing wine by the way their lips were stained red and their heads swayed ever so timidly. Mrs. Stone, Veronica, as the wet nurse had learned, beckoned her to approach, shimmying back to allow her a spot between the two older adults.
Michelle knew she shouldn’t. She knew that the two were not in their normal minds, but something drew her to follow Veronica’s order, her nipples still hard, still raw and still leaking from the abuse of the Motilium and the milk thistle. It made her breasts feel hard and heavy, and not having the children to drink from her only made the young woman anxious.
So she sat between the two, unsure of what Veronica wanted from her, but soon her answer came, “I just wanted to thank you again for… for coming into our lives when you did…”
The young woman pursed her lips, nodding, “Heh… Yeah, no problem, Mrs. Stone… They’re little angels, I love… being there for them.”
She omitted the fact that the babies helped her more than she helped them. Veronica seemed a little sad for a moment, looking down at her chest, “Yeah… If they didn’t have such a worthless mother, maybe I could be there for them, too…”
Michelle didn’t know what to say. She was about to comfort the woman when Veronica leaned in and rested her forehead against Michelle’s shoulder, sniffling just out of sight. She could feel tears on her shirt, and Martin reached in to put his hand on his wife across Michelle.
“Hey, babe… You’re a great mother… Look, you got this wonderful young woman for them so they’d grow up strong. Only a great mother would do that for her children..,” he reassured her, and Veronica raised her head to look at her husband, grateful for the affection before leaning in to kiss him.
The wet nurse was slightly awkward at the smooch happening only a few inches from her face, Veronica leaning in too much and putting her hand on Michelle’s lap as her tongue entered Martin’s mouth. Michelle would be lying if she said it wasn’t quite a romantic display, squirming legs and the smell of wine in the air.
“Oh, you’re leaking a little..,” Veronica muttered, looking down at Michelle’s chest, and the young woman was embarrassed enough to cross her arms.
“Shit… Shit, yeah, I’m… I- Th-… There’s a lot tonight, ha… The twins got full and I… I still got a bit left..,” Michelle admitted, looking at both of the adults in front of her.
It put a strange expression on Veronica, eyes half-lidded and mouth panting from the kiss, putting a hand on Michelle’s cheek before it slid down to the young woman’s blouse, expertly unbuttoning one by one until she reached her midriff, “Maybe we can help…”
Michelle was too stunned to say no, to disagree, to… save some modicum of respect for herself against the couple, but… crap, she just couldn’t stop thinking of having her tits milked for all they had. That was the point all along, not just to feed babies, but to… to nurture people… That was her dream in life…
Two wet spots on the pushup bra she wore, wasted nourishment begging to be tasted, Veronica slid the girl’s bra down her arms and exposed the enormous chest that had only gotten bigger these past few weeks, sloppily putting her mouth to her left nipple and holding the entire breast up with both hands in her awkward position.
The young woman looked at Martin, who was entirely confused and… excited to watch his wife act out so, glancing at Michelle, watching the wet nurse gesture to her other breast like an expectant mother. He nodded silently, swallowing, grasping the girl’s swollen tit and wrapping his lips round her sore nipple to suckle.
Veronica was the greedy little pig, moaning and sucking like her life depended on it, occasionally letting go to breathe and mutter about how good she tasted.
To be fair, she was right. All the fenugreek supplements had left Michelle’s milk tasting slightly sweet, akin to a maple smell, a natural and intoxicating flavor that had the older woman burying her face in the wet nurse’s fleshy mound. She squeezed her breast, trying to get more and more, even if it really did nothing to help her case. All she needed was her mouth, pulling nourishment like a hungry baby.
Martin was more reserved, at first. He took sampling tastes, looking at his wife, at Michelle, still too nervous to let himself go into the wonders of her body.
He needed encouragement, and he found it as Michelle reached down to stroke his head lovingly, leaning him closer as she moaned out pleasantly and relaxed her head on the couchrest behind her.
Michelle could feel herself drifting on a cloud, in a haze of pleasure that came with nourishment, the relief of her breasts being milked harder and angrier, barely hearing Veronica and Martin undress as long as one of them drank from the faucet of her body’s life.
Martin laid across Michelle’s lap, resting his head atop a couch cushion on her thighs, and the wet nurse instinctively held him to her breast, groaning quietly as she stroked his hair and glanced at Veronica dragging her tongue about his cock, drenching his sack and choking herself on his length.
There was hardly a moment that had a pause in it, and always, always, someone had their mouth on Michelle’s nipple.
The young woman gasped as Veronica laid her down on the couch, on her back, on all fours above the wet nurse and suckling angrily while Martin mounted her and thrusted excitedly as he watched both women.
Michelle giggled quietly while Veronica drank of her milk, suckled like a baby, putting her fingers against the wet nurse’s sex and rubbing erratically as her husband fucked her rampantly. No complaints from either, and Michelle held the woman’s head down on her breasts when she started to hear Martin’s breathing hitch and shudder, eyes worriedly shutting before he gasped aloud.
She saw him pull out and get to his feet, stroking hand approaching Michelle’s chest as Veronica tilted her suckling face to look at him while the young woman pressed her untended breast to the other.
It was all she needed to do to make the older man finish, unleashing a spattering of his cum onto his wife’s face and Michelle’s admittedly lighter tits, a fact that didn’t stop Veronica from drinking more milk, even while covered in Martin’s load.
Moments passed, and Martin suggested that they move upstairs to the bed, leading both women to the bedroom and letting Michelle take center stage on the softest mattress she’d ever felt. The couple flanked her body, both lazily drinking of her breasts, a post-coitus relaxation period courtesy of the life-affirming milk that they’d… ultimately paid for, anyway…
And it was a dream come true, holding her new ‘babies’ in the bed as they drank until their eyes closed and their mouths snored lightly…
Michelle was thinking of asking for a raise.