Hucow Harem: a Caption

I'd been having Kitty over for morning coffee for weeks, slowly conditioning her to the taste of my cream, addicting her to its sweetness. Over time, I had acclimated her mouth. Slowly, surely, her mind would be swayed as well.

Exposure to hucow milk took several months to evolve into a truly symbiotic relationship, but I started producing extra milk in Kitty's presence in the first few days. My titties shuddered when Kitty knocked, a thirsty blonde hankering for hot, fresh brew. If I didn't make a move toward breastfeeding her, my hucow jugs might split their seams! A hucow had to start her harem at some point.

"Wouldn't you prefer to. . . drink from the source?" I asked. My fingers clenched my sweater. I pulled my fabric like a curtain and literally dangled my aching bosom in front of the twenty-two-year-old business major. My wobbling wouldn't stop, growth pushing my tits larger and larger, a spike in production adding a cup size in the blink of an eye and chasing Kitty to the back of the kitchen chair. I watched gears of doubt turn through her blinking, blue eyes and measured the silence in throbs from my needy, filling breasts. Then, Kitty dropped her coffee mug just left of the designated coaster as her glazed eyes fluttered closed. She dove forward. My bra was yanked away and a small, warm mouth found my pulsing, creamy nipple. I let down in Kitty's mouth right away—the morning load always energetic and viscous. She gulped madly, rhythmically. Rounded sounds ricocheted as thick cream stretched her throat and swirled in her belly, pumping her fuller and fuller of my ambrosia. Once she finished, she'd be changed forever. As I shrank, she would grow and grow. First, a taut marble for a tummy. Then, her own fat, veiny, milky tits—double or triple their current C cups size. Then, the rest of her would expand outward, allocating excess calories exclusively to her hips and thighs. She would thrive on my production. We would work together, live together, love together, and fill with milk together. And Kitty was the first of a long line of young, lithe women with warm, thirsty mouths that I would transform, making them loyal to my creamy, nourishing. . .

Hucow Breasts.