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Contains lactation, huge breasts and slightly reluctant use of said huge breasts, no characters described are minors / under the age of 18, and the events described are fictional despite any events they may be based on.

Felt like this story fit better with first person perspective, something I hadn’t done before. Let me know what you think, and expect a few more stories in the vein of this one.


I’ll go by Griffin for this story, and there’s a couple of things I want to lay out before I get to the meat of today’s reading. I’m only going to focus on the events and classes that involve the particular girl I met, so understand there are lots of details I might be glossing over.

I’ve been a pretty lucky dude, as a general statement; my parents are well off, I was always considered attractive above the average, my goals to become a civil engineer are definitely in reach and entering my senior year of high school I had some solid friendships. As far as love was concerned, I’ve had a few crushes but not many that went farther than a few short dates, so that was one life aspect I still had to work on. It might have been part of my lack of passion or something, but I struggled to measure how much effort to put towards people in my life and that definitely contributed to what I consider my love shy struggles.

Now onto the particular girl I met, something I should also note happened a good while ago.


My electives outside of engineering fit each trimester of school well, the first one being Breathing Studies mondays-wednesdays. It’s basically gym class except for those of us who didn’t care as much for mandatory intense physical training. This might be boastful, but I was expecting myself to be the most fit teen in class. The description and previous accounts made it clear we would be going at our own pace and at worst we’d have to jog around a block to see how well we’d improved since the beginning of the semester.

One thing I wasn’t expecting was where we were supposed to go first for class. The class said we were meeting in like, S207 or something, an actual classroom, but when I got there it was pretty empty. On the door I saw the note “Class in A22”, the workout room. Retrospectively I feel kinda dumb, as I should have known. In the moment, I felt less dumb because I wasn’t the only person to mix that fact up.

“Hey!” A girl’s voice came from behind me, “are you in Breathing Studies too?”

I turned around to see Roxanne, Roxi for short; a fellow senior I’d seen around school but never talked to myself. She had short brown hair and gentle brown eyes, both looking up at me. Her smile was wide across her rounder Romanian face, and with her short little nose her face gave me friendly vibes. A dark red sweatshirt was stretched across her plump body, dark jeans covering her legs.

I enjoyed the friendly stare she gave me for a moment before my eyes were pulled downwards. I know that it’s rude, but I couldn’t help but take a quick glance at her chest; I cannot exaggerate when I say she had the biggest tits in school, easily larger than any teacher… maybe on par with a few substitutes I’ve had. It wasn’t even like I was super into boobs right then, but she was actually insane. To give some description, she had some real tube boobs – ones that stayed pretty thick throughout their length, and trust me she had thickness and length. Her oversized sweatshirt stretched down below her big belly, and if you looked from the front you might assume she just had a huge gut. I knew from multiple summers in the same assemblies that those things were some real deal jibblies and couldn’t help but stare for a moment.

To clarify I thought she was super hot and if my description of how she looked at me didn’t give it away, I thought she was a neat person. Obviously had limited information about her but there wasn’t much I heard besides she was a kind and considerate person who knew how to assert herself.

She was carrying a text book in her arm, and crossed her arms with the book in front of her chest. This snapped me back to her question.

“Yep same class, but it seems like nobody’s here.”

She gave me a curious look before walking up to the note on the door. As she read it, I thought about what she must think of me. We were both popular in different friend groups, but this was one of the first time’s we’d actually talked. She opened with a very simple question and after staring at her tits I could have said “Yeah, the note says we need to go to class” or “Yeah, strange. Terribly sorry for being so rude to stare at your massive tits”. I felt like a fucking weirdo in that moment, as my highschool mind jumped to hating myself.

“I guess we gotta hit the gym today.” She turned back to me, “we must be the late pair then, huh?”

I chuckled, still nervous and overthinking the moment before, “I guess. Glad I’m not the only one who thought we had class here today.”

“Yeah right?” Roxi hit me with a soft chuckle of her own, “That’s görükle escort what the syllabus said for today!”

We walked together to the gym. At first I was afraid it’d be an awkward walk (hopefully the theme of me being too self conscious was made clear), but she dug right into some actual chit chat.

“I feel like I’ve seen you around school all the time but this is the first class we’ve had together. Griffin, right?” Roxi asked.

“Honestly swear we’ve had class together at some point, considering how many people it seems we both know. You’re Roxanne?” I pretended to not be certain of her name.

“Usually just go by Roxi.”

“I think I knew that.”

“Yeah, I think I know a bit about you. We have a lotta friends together and I’ve heard all about you.”

You already know my heart skipped a beat. What? People talking about me to other people?

“Only terrible things I imagine.”

Retrospectively, again, this is a pretty weak way to continue the conversation. Either Roxi was either going to tell me they think I’m awesome, forcing her to compliment me, or some alternative to complimenting me that’d be terrible.

She giggled, “I mean you certainly sound like an interesting dude. It makes me disappointed we haven’t talked before because I’m constantly hearing about the jokes you make or the random shit you do.”

That sentence sent me on a rollercoaster of emotions. A generally good series of emotions though, and hearing somebody swear in conversation with you always meant they felt chill around you.

“I also heard you’re a chubby chaser, so I’m even more surprised we’ve never talked.”

I physically cringed. “Oh really?! Who told you that!”

My friends had made fun of me before for liking girls with some meat on their bones. I mean, I do, and there isn’t anything wrong with that, but this was also a moment in time where I was beginning to realize I did like big boobs, and “chubby” girls usually had heavier sets. The greatest case and point was walking next to me heading to class, and in my peripheral vision the ends of her massive breasts jiggled by her hips.

“I just heard about it time to time…” She teased me, “but I mean, hey, I won’t judge. I’ve only dated chubby chasers as you can imagine, and usually it’s more about the person underneath all that fat.”

Our conversation had a weird center around what it meant to like somebody. I know I should have been paying more attention to this bit, but the conversation had turned into more of a casual discussion and my head was other places. What she’d just said was an actual compliment, saying I had better priorities in traits in the girls I liked, and in a similar note saying she understood she had those traits. I imagined at the time it was more of a conversation about understanding the person beneath (which I agree with, I’m not just in it for a girl’s bod), but for real it felt like she was trying to peak my interest.


I’m gonna gloss over a lot of the class itself right now, just because going into every detail of our interactions in class would probably double this story’s length in only the first of three trimesters. But I can tell you it was fucking amazing, and not just because we had a fun teacher.

Ever since the first class together, Roxi got used to shedding her sweatshirt when we’d all work out. In addition she was usually around me when we broke off to do reps and schedule out of class workouts. This gave me some really clear views of two of the school’s fattest, saggiest tube boobs swinging around on a treadmill and covered in sweat.

Sometimes it was hard to work with Roxi. When she’d say “I think my arms are getting stronger!” and I had the option to stare at her slightly buffer but still fat arms and two feet of cleavage, it was hard to make the right decision. In addition she’d say things that seemed flirty about her body or mine, but stayed at the same level of flirtiness over time – she wasn’t pushing an envelope from my perspective, just talking about a class that happened to involve our bodies.

Usually Roxi had to take a bathroom break halfway through so I was a victim of working out in awkward isolation, not keen on finding more people to exercise with. Our teacher Mrs. Bobinski made Roxi’s bathroom breaks pretty odd though, as she always gave her a knowing glance when she left. I kind of pushed it off as her judging Roxi for always leaving, not putting much more thought into it. We could take breaks whenever and Roxi often did (no offense to Roxi, but she took this class because she wasn’t built athletic, and it’s cool but you gotta know a break every like eight minutes is a lot).

One particular day of interest, we had a midterm. The class was going to jog around a block using techniques we discussed in class. This was to get an idea of how we were doing as far as aerobic fitness, and we had to try and beat it at the end of the trimester. This was usually the time for people to sandbag and show “great improvement” at the bursa merkez escort end, but even with everybody sandbagging there were some classmates who really struggled.

As much as her chest was flopping and it was hot to see her working out, I felt pain jogging next to Roxi. She wasn’t the absolute back of the line but those who were weren’t far behind, and they seemed to be taking more of a brisk pace rather than struggling like my gym partner. At one point Roxi took a break to stop, something everybody was told to avoid as we should be running at a sustainable pace.

“You doing ok?” I asked.

She looked up to me and rolled her eyes, “Fuckin peachy Grif.”

I laughed, taking a break to wait for her to get better. I’d also been carrying two water bottles in a string bag Roxi had brought, resources she was willing to share with me. I passed her one, and she began chugging the water.

“Can you turn around for a second?” She asked me.

“Oh… what for?”

She looked to the people passing us. We really were the back of the herd. After they passed she looked around the houses we were jogging by. Finally she stared at me with a straight face, holding the tinge of a suppressed grin.

“You know what, it’s not a big deal.”

Roxi then pulled the front of her shirt open. More cleavage exposed, she poured the water down her breasts. The water made her chest nice and shiny, and the bottoms of her breasts seemed to drip more water onto the ground. I looked between both monster mams and her face, which was now giving me a smug look.

“Enjoying the view?”

“I’m sorry!” I jumped to my own defense, smiling myself through bright red cheeks, “I just…”

“Oh now you’re embarrassed? You’ve been looking at’m since we started talking, y’know.”

That phrasing made me blush harder. She seemed to mean since we started physically talking to each other, the day of our first class together, but saying you “started talking” had obvious implications to talking to someone about dating. It also made it clear she wasn’t ignorant to me staring at her chest.

I took another look at her chest, transitioning from embarrassment to enjoying the freedom of openly staring at her boobs. As I looked, I noticed her shirt was still dripping, especially from what had to be her nipples. The two nubs were big enough to make small indents in her shirt, and even outside the light wash of her water bottle being dumped, they seemed especially wet.

“You really just dumped water down your shirt, huh?”

Roxi told me later my eyes were pretty wide, which was why she looked down at her nipples. She knew they were both stiff, but hadn’t realized something else.

“Oh fuck!” Roxi turn away from me.

I was certainly confused, thinking we were on the same page that it was cool for me to look at her boobs. Now I was uncertain, and didn’t know what to say. We stood there until she behind herself at me, now holding up one of her massive tits. Her eyes looked panicked, but some idea was hatching behind them.

“…are you ok taking a quick detour?” she asked.

“Of course. What for?”

She gave me a tiny smile, “Something fun I promise, just trust me.”

Roxi started jogging again, a little faster than before. She had some purpose to her detour, diverting from the class. I followed her down the road, now heading towards a forestry nook. She ran straight in, pushing past plenty of branches. As we followed, I ran into her boob. It’d gotten stuck on a particular branch, and I felt her hard nub dab my shorts. I could feel my cock twitch against her tit, no doubt she’d felt it.

At first we were apologizing to eachother as she tried to get her boob out, until she stopped trying and took a look around. I tried to focus on wiping my pants off from what I assumed to be sweat and water, but as it turned out whatever her nipple was wet with was sticky like sugar. It looked vaguely white in my hands.

“You know what, this works fine.” She told me.

She finally pulled her breast free but rested it back on the branch, pulling her other breast up in her shirt to sit next to it. Now I had a clear view of both her boobs, just resting on a branch, slight overhand because of her enormous size. As I stared, I realized why her nipples were so wet.

“Is that…” I couldn’t complete my sentence, afraid if I said what I thought it’d make things weirder.

“It’s milk.” Her response was blatant, almost purposefully blunt and jarring, like she was joking about it not being obvious by pretending it was.

I just stared for a moment, now a little harder than before. Roxi looked down at my pants, noticing what I struggled to hide. She just let out a quick exhale and went into her little speech.

“Alright, don’t tell anybody this, but here’s a little story; I was secretly dating a friend, Huff,” I knew that name but not the person, “and Huff and I had sex. We were young, younger than we were even now, and we made bursa sınırsız escort mistakes one of which was me getting pregnant. At least we think I was – we never found out because after the pregnancy scare I took a fuck ton of medications to get it out. I don’t know if it’s part of the meds, or even the pregnancy itself, but it seems like my body in turn thought I was having a baby because I started makin milk. I’ve already got some crazy hormones, case and point,” Roxi patted her breasts, “and even after a few years my doctor can’t figure out how to stop the milk. There were some more medications I could take but I decided ‘fuck it, I’ll just let’m fill with milk’.” This isn’t exactly every word she said, she actually condensed that information down in a more efficient way, but that was the jist of her story. I believed her, seeing as massive breasts full of milk seemed crazy enough as-is and that explanation made sense. At the very least, it was interesting to hear she’d been a couple with Huff, that certainly wasn’t public knowledge.

She looked at me expectantly, awaiting some response. After I failed to give anything but silence she continued, “And as you can see it can be a real problem at times with how much I make. If it’s not too much to ask, since you seem to like boobs and all… would you mind giving me a hand here?”

I looked between her and her breasts. My response was to recoil, holding my hands up in defense, “I don’t know dude, that’s not in my wheelhouse, or-“

“I can do it myself if you don’t want to.” She interrupted me, “But I’m just offering.”

“You want me to drink it?” I asked.

“NO.” Her immediate response was forceful, but her next words came in a calmer tone, “…I’m just not comfortable with that right now… but I need these things empty and as you can imagine getting help makes it go by quicker.”

Roxi’s face was very red, I realized, and not from the cardio. I hadn’t been much into milk at this point, but I had begun to fantasize about touching those breasts and she was literally serving her tits to me on a tree branch. That thought made me realize how ridiculous this exact situation was, Roxi asking me to milk her in a patch of trees right off the road, but if I said no I’d never live this down.

I knelt down, face in front of her chest. My hands rose to hold her chest; each boob was pretty fucking firm, like way more than I would have guessed. I gave them some squeezes and her moist curves compressed in my hands. She gave me a happy hum as more milk squirt out her breasts.

“I imagine this is a lot of fun for you… but it’d probably be more fun if you took’m out.” Roxi nodded at her chest.

My hands rose to her cleavage and pulled her shirt down. I must have grabbed her bra too because her tits just flopped right out. Apparently she liked wearing tight shirts and bras because those firm fun bags were so hard in part because they were compressed. Out of her shirt, her giant breasts seemed even bigger. Her fat wrinkled areolas led to nipples the size of my pinky knuckles! And topping them off were beads of clearish white milk. She told me later that I was literally drooling, and she felt like a Christmas ham on a dinner plate set for me.

As badly as I wanted to just stick my face in one of those monster milk cans I respected Roxi’s wishes. There wasn’t a lot of hesitation to milk her at that point, as she was asking for it. So my hands dug right into her areolas, feeling around and pulling towards the ground. I found some pressure points that made her tits squirt and attacked. My lack of experience was obvious, and I ended up tugging her tits downwards more than drain her milk. She was enjoying it though, as I could feel her heartbeat raise through the firm titty dough in my hands.

I laughed to myself at one point in the milking and Roxi asked why, a little offended at first. I explained myself, still milking her fat tits.

“This is like… the craziest thing I’ve ever done! And I’m just happy it’s with you.”

That was a really big moment, and one I think I was pretty smooth about. I really did like Roxi, and I wanted to make it clear I wasn’t just glad to be milking her tits, I was glad to be milking her tits. Whether that got to her or just the fact she was making me happy, she was touched by that.

“Aw, thanks hehe… just glad this didn’t freak you out.”

“I mean, it’s kinda hot.” I still wasn’t all aboard with lactation as a thing yet, but at the very least I just really wanted to get a taste and that made me think I was into it. Either way squeezing her out was really fun and something I especially enjoyed knowing not many people had ever done this, and far fewer with tits this large.

Roxi stopped me from squeezing her out, informing me she was empty enough to make it back without dripping. She then leaned on her own tits, making them squeeze more beads of milk out. My eyes were locked on to her milk dotted nipples, making it clear I was still very much enjoying this.

“You still can’t suck on them-“

“Aw…” I was hoping my disappointment would convince her to reconsider.

“But my milk’s all over your fingers and you’re sure as hell not walking with me back with your fingers covered in milk. Why don’t you give it a taste?”

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