Sometimes, I wished I could lactate. Odd, but something about it intrigued me. I wanted to be knocked up. It felt like a primal urge inside, aching to...come out. I wanted someone to cum inside me and impregnate me, as slutty as that may sound. As much as I might have liked this, I knew it wouldn't happen. My hair was unkempt, I was shy, and quite frankly, no man was really interested in me. That's how it's always been, so what's a girl to do other than masturbate? I got home as usual and went to. “Who is the father? Was it Jeremiah Miller? You two always were lovers,” Abigail teased her.“My father didn’t want me to marry him. His family didn’t have enough money,” Penelope said.“Well, you married Benjamin Barron and you said it wasn’t his, so whose was it?” Abigail asked for the juicy gossip about her friend’s indiscretions. I had wished they would not talk so vulgarly around my son. I was already wondering how we would accomplish our ablutions if he is in the field with us and worried I. She shuddered and tensed up and stifled a cry as best she could but I still heard it, the unmistakable sound of a woman who is in the throes of orgasm. The guy’s head moved away from her breasts and up to give her a kiss to stifle her cries as his hand continued rubbing her pussy. She went limp for a few minutes. When she opened her eyes, he whispered something to her and took her left hand and put it in his lap. She shook her head yes and I watched as he unzipped his pants. He whispered. When the elevator arrived and the doors opened, she poked out her head. Mike was sitting on a stool inside the entrance. He stood up as she looked out. Taking in her unhappy expression, he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “I'll call you a cab, miss. Just wait in here a minute.” He stepped outside to make the call, leaving her the privacy of an empty lobby.A couple of minutes later, a cab pulled up. Mike came back in. “Your cab is here, miss… and, well…, you know… Tony, Mr..
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