The click of the heavy metal door bolting behind her was Rachel’s cue. Without turning around, she slipped a finger under the silk bra strap on her right shoulder.
She knew this bra well. She had helped design it, and the man who had just entered the secluded Mother’s Room in the back of the building was the president of the company that sold it.
Thomas stood silent behind her as he watched the finger slide the black strap down the curve of Rachel’s shoulder. The thought of what was to come next was enough to make him hard, but, as if he were Pavlov’s dog, the sound of the door clicking had already done the job.
Rachel always kept her black pencil skirt on. She wore the same one every Wednesday, something no one would ever notice but him.
He walked around the velvet footstool she was perched upon and, without making eye contact, got down on his knees in front of her.
Every time he entered this room he thought of how he had first scoffed at the idea of paying for a place where his returning female staff could pump their breast milk. After all, Thomas had been around this business when they allowed smoking inside and extra dinner jackets were stashed in office closets.
This twice-removed generation of Rachel’s was very demanding. And convincing. And he secretly liked that more than he ever thought he would.
The feel of a hand gripping into what was left of his hair stopped this train of thought.
Rachel, looking down at him, pulled his face to her right breast, now exposed with a nipple hard and glistening. Slowly, she guided his lips to her life source. He craved to feel her in his mouth, to wrap his starving, wilting lips around something youthful that didn’t belong to him. He leaned in and reached out his tongue.
He almost let out a cry when she yanked his head back. This was up to her, the movement said. The rage that being told no instantly sparked inside him threatened to take over. Then he acquiesced, which made his dick pulse with need.
Slowly, she pulled his face toward her again and positioned his lips over her tit. The tension of waiting made her pussy begin to weep wetness into her silk panties. With the precision of a new mother, she put Thomas’ lips on her nipple and sighed.
Thomas began his work, calling the milk out as his tongue gently moved in circles. He tempted her with flicks of his tongue, feeling her body tighten and her legs wrap around his torso. The milk began to drip on to his tongue and Rachel crushed his face into her.
Then he began to suck. The dew of her, its indulgent taste, made him ache to touch her body steadily condensing all its power. Wrapping one arm around her, still sucking, he ran his other up her thigh highs and made room for his fist in her tight skirt.
Finding her clit as he took her milk, one finger worked the outside until he felt her breath quicken and her grip on his hair threaten to pull the rest of it out. He sucked her nipple like a bottle, ran his tongue in a circle around it, stuck all his fingers inside of her soaking pussy and pushed.
The points of her high heels dug into his calves as she came. He didn’t notice. All he could do was feel her vagina tightening on his fingers, taste her milk seeping into his mouth and try to remember what her body felt like as it lost all control.
After she came, it was always the same. He took a long, final suck and removed his lips from her nipple. While he watched it melt back into a soft secret, his fingers pulled out from inside her, wiped her cum on the panties and pulled them back into place.
He stood up. Clicked open the bolt lock. And walked down the dark hall back to his office. There was a conference meeting in 10 minutes.