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Spills (6 Parts)
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 22:20:42 +0000 UTCNote: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.
1.
It had all started randomly one day in the office. Penelope had had her usual morning coffee, and by the afternoon, her chest had started to feel tight and tingly. She wasn’t sure of the cause, and tried to brush it off for the time being in favor of a project she was working on, but the discomfort only grew, her chest felt heated, and there was clearly some swelling beneath the fitted blouse she was wearing.
Penelope was just about to head to the lavatory to fully investigate what was going on, when her nipples began to sting. There was a weirder sensation that followed, a tingling pressure, and then…moisture?
She looked down at her blouse and could see a spot forming over each of her nipples, a moist spot, and she steadily came to realize that she was somehow lactating—only, whatever her body was producing was brown, and it smelled distinctly like…coffee?
Penelope slowly looked up and found that most of her colleagues present had noticed, and they were all staring. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling mortified.
“I—er—I have to go,” she blurted. With that, she grabbed her purse and hurried off to her car as she tried to make sense of what was happening to her body.
By that evening, Penelope almost thought that she was going mad and had imagined the whole thing, except there was the coffee stain on her blouse, and just before bed, her chest tingled again.
Her breasts were bloated and tender, soft and warm. They were noticeably bigger, and had felt so sensitive during the latter half of the day, she hadn’t been able to bear putting them into a bra.
Her nipples started dripping again. This time clear fluid—what looked to be water. She had been sipping water throughout the evening. It was almost like her nipples were expelling the exact fluids she was consuming orally. Penelope sat down on her bed, mystified.
-
Now weeks later, Penelope had managed to adapt to her strange affliction. Though she, of course, could not survive without fluid intake, she timed her drinks carefully, and she was able to predict when the lactation would follow. She wore nursing bras when she could tolerate it, and the lactation became little more than an inconvenience that everyone pretended to be oblivious of yet gossiped heartily about.
Penelope lived around it. She even got the growth under control, making sure to sip throughout the day, never drinking too much at one time. Life was virtually normal, at least until her boss took on a new business venture.
Her boss, Carl, had purchased a café. He had always wanted to be a chef, and had taken to bringing in samples of his culinary creations for his team to try. The dozen or so of Penelope’s colleagues who worked under Carl were complete brown-nosers and lapped everything up—literally. Penelope was truly desperate for a promotion, and found herself succumbing to the pressure.
“Here Pen, what do you think of this,” Carl said as he came into the office. He was handing out beverages in disposable cups that were extra-large in size.
Penelope accepted the milky beverage and took a sip. It was heavenly. She tried to put it down but Carl was watching her.
“You don’t like it?” he said.
“I do,” Penelope insisted. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
She avoided the elephant in the room with another careful smile. “It’s great,” she said, bringing the cup back to her lips and drinking the whole thing down.
That afternoon, her breasts had swelled from Cs to Ds, and she had to take several bathroom breaks to avoid leaking publicly. Her nipples were hard, swollen, and protruding evidently. Everyone was throwing her discreet glances while pretending not to.
Carl continued to bring in new beverages, some regretfully thick. They all made her bloat uncomfortably. She had difficulty passing a chowder, her nipples unaccustomed to the strain. She found herself carrying some of the fluid even into the following day, panting, and waiting for her nipples to steadily push it out of her now-DDs.
One morning, Penelope was relieved to see that the latest sample was a solid food for once: an experimental sweet potato pudding Carl was particularly excited to get feedback on. Like most of Carl’s cooking, it was delicious. Penelope even accepted a second serving, relieved that there wouldn’t be any consequences for once.
She was mistaken. By that afternoon, her breasts were heavy and tingling, nipples aching, and her top tightening against her. It didn’t make sense. The pudding hadn’t been a liquid…but then…
Penelope locked herself in the lavatory, breathing heavily, her breasts feeling bloated and heavy. She watched them heave, just throbbing with growth, and she knew it was the pudding that occupied them. “Fuck,” she groaned, hunching slightly in her stall, unbuttoning her blouse buttons before they could tear apart. She grimaced and groaned through the process of lactating, but only managed to produce a fat purple dollop of pudding that plopped on the floor. Her nipples continued to bulge and strain.
There was a light knock on the stall door. “Penelope?” a colleague called. “You have a client waiting.”
“Okay,” Penelope stammered. “R-right.”
She tried to pass more of the pudding, even squeezing her two nipples, but only managed to produce two more dollops. Her legs quavered, loins hot, the growing strain oddly arousing. Somehow Penelope managed to stuff her now-E-cups back into her top. Flushed and panting, she made her way back to the office, engorged breasts wobbling on her chest.
2.
Penelope was sweating through the whole meeting, her body straining and her clothes tightening against her heated flesh. She tried to be professional and plastered her face with a smile which helped hide her discomfort. By the time the meeting was over, her buttons were straining.
Penelope drove home, panting heavily the whole time. There, she immediately stripped her tight blouse and blazer, then went into the bathroom, where she sat on the tub edge, arched, and grunted out.
She continued to try to pass the pudding, but it was a slow, arduous process. Her nipples would only release fat blobs every half minute or so. The process was uncomfortable, but arousing, her face flushed and loins throbbing. It wasn’t exactly what she would consider productive. Worse, she had abstained from drinking any fluids for half the day, and now she was getting thirsty.
It was around four AM that Penelope finally gave up on massaging her breasts, squeezing her nipples, and trying to push the pudding out. She was exhausted, dizzy, and dehydrated. Her breasts were still heavy, round, warm, and bloated-feeling, nipples still uncomfortably erect, and very swollen.
Her breasts might have even gotten a little bit larger. They certainly hadn’t shrunken throughout the night, to her dismay. The EEs sat round and full, not a hint of sag, as they heaved up and down with her heavy breathing.
Penelope lightly shook her head. This was ridiculous. She needed water. She couldn’t go without it any longer. Maybe it’ll help loosen things, she tried to reason to herself. She didn’t exactly understand the mechanics of her condition, but it was her best chance. It wasn’t as though she had many other options.
Penelope got fully into the tub, turned on the shower, and rinsed away the pudding smeared over her body. She groaned as the water his her tender breast flesh. Her nipples resembled marbles in size, hard and bulging out. They would be impossible to hide under clothing.
Penelope turned off the shower and wrapped a robe around herself, though it barely closed over her chest, cleavage bulging heavily, and breasts nearly spilling free. Bereft of the energy to much care, Penelope padded off to the kitchen. She filled a glass with water and fought the urge to chug it down. Instead she took a careful sip. And then another.
She was exhausted. Rather than staying up even longer to see the effects, Penelope made her way to her bedroom, continuing to take careful sips every few moments.
She set the half-empty glass on her nightstand. She gingerly curled up, grimacing from the tight tenderness of her breasts.
Her eyelids drooped and as she fell asleep, she couldn’t help thinking, How much bigger could they get?
-
People at work were staring at her, some in bemusement, and some in blatant appreciation. Penelope knew her breasts looked large, especially on her slim body. She had put on layered clothing in an effort to look as unsexual as possible, but there was no hiding the globes stuffed under her sweater.
She didn’t know if the water had helped or not, but she had produced a little more of the pudding that morning, and perhaps it had been a little thinner. Every few minutes, a little more would seep into the padding she had stuffed into the bandeau she had on beneath everything else.
To Penelope’s dismay, her boss brought in yet another new sample for everyone to try. As phobic as she had gotten of liquids lately, she couldn’t deny that she was terribly thirsty.
“It’s an almond shake,” said Carl, passing out large disposable cups for each member of his team. “Would love your feedback.” When there was one remaining beverage left unclaimed, Carl’s eyes swiveled around until they landed on Penelope. “Penn, you’re not interested? Was my last sample that horrible?” he said, half joking, but half sincere. He frowned at her.
“Er, I—um—thanks,” said Penelope, taking the cup. She held it awkwardly under her chin and it smelled heavenly. Carl was watching her closely.
Penelope gave up. She lifted the drink and downed it. It tasted as good as it smelled. There were murmurs of appreciation amongst her colleagues. Penelope was still busy glugging it down.
Throughout the remainder of the day, Penelope’s face warmed and her loins tingled. She could feel the bandeau straining tighter against her under her clothes. She could feel herself filling. People were staring at her more than ever.
When the sweater started to stretch, delicately quilted fabric straining and pulling apart, Penelope excused herself to the restroom. She dragged off the sweater and three shirts she had on beneath it, before going over to the sink. She tugged down the bandeau, panting.
The mounds were huge, perhaps resembling honeydews. They bobbed with her every movement. “Ughhh…” she groaned, shoulders twisting. Her back arched. She needed release.
There was a knock on the door.
“Penelope, it’s time for your performance review,” Carl called. “We were supposed to start five minutes ago.”
Penelope contained a moan. “I’ll b-be right out,” she managed, shuddering slightly. Her nipples were keen; stinging.
“I hope so,” Carl called reprovingly. She heard his footsteps walking off.
Penelope panted through the fluster. She had to contain it, just a little longer. With that, she stretched the tight bandeau back over her swollen mounds and began the process of squeezing herself back into her clothing.
3.
Penelope sat down in Carl’s office, trying to look pleasant and poised though her breasts were throbbing. The mounds were hot, full, bloated, and heavy. She could feel the way the contents stretched them out and weighed heavily on her torso, nipples stiff and aching where they protruded sharply against her layers of clothing.
To her immense displeasure, there seemed to be extra almond shakes. Two large cups of it were sitting right on Carl’s desk.
“Help yourself,” said Carl as he shuffled some paperwork.
Penelope was breathless as she responded, “Oh no, I couldn’t.”
“You look parched, Penn. I insist.”
“I can’t,” Penelope said, the response coming out a little too sharp.
Carl raised his eyes from his papers and blinked at her, looking vaguely offended. “Is everything alright, Penelope?”
Goodness, this was turning into a whole thing. She didn’t want to be seen as difficult. She couldn’t keep fighting him on this. “Actually, the last one was delicious. Sure, I’d love another one,” she said pleasantly.
Carl looked delighted. He handed it over. Penelope sipped slowly, trying to pace herself. She did her best to focus as Carl went over facts and figures regarding her performance. But with every pull she took of her straw, it felt like her breasts were getting heavier.
God, she thought, but she just kept smiling. She absently tugged at her sweater, but then decided against it when she saw the way the quilted yarn was pulling apart, making gaps at her chest so that her shirt could be seen beneath it. She breathed in and out evenly, Carl's words seeming to muffle as her pulse pounded in her eardrums. She wiped some sweat off her brow and neck, aware that she was sweating like a pig. Just a little longer.
“Penelope, are you okay?”
Penelope blinked at her boss, pulled out of her reverie. She noticed that she was panting and fanning herself. The fluid filling her tits was on the cusp of breaking free, nipples stinging, feeling incredibly hard against her confining layers of clothes.
“F-fine,” she managed, contorting her face in what she hoped was a grin.
Carl gave her a peculiar look, his eyes fleetingly dipping down to the honeydew-sized mounds straining against her top. He shifted his attention back to the paperwork, pointing at something. “Now if you look here, you’ll see that you filed this under amendments when it should have…”
Penelope just stared and nodded, not really hearing him. It had to have been a half hour already. How much longer was this meeting going to go on?
“And that wraps things up,” said Carl, finally. Penelope was so tight, she was certain she had gone up another cup size. “Now I need you to correct these issues, ASAP.”
“Yes sir,” said Penelope, heaving herself up, breasts bobbing. “I’m just going to make a quick stop to the lavatory—”
“Another break?” said Carl, his face crumpling in disappointment. “Penelope, those contracts have to go out by the end of the day. We don’t have much time left.”
“I know, sir, I just—”
“I’m getting a little concerned about all the extra breaks you’ve been taking lately. I didn’t want to bring it up during this performance review because then, of course, it would be on the record, but—”
“No!” Penelope blurted, startling Carl slightly. “I mean—I’m sorry,” she yammered. “It will not continue to be a problem. I’ll get to work on those contracts right now.”
Carl’s brows had risen all the way to his hairline. “Glad to hear, Penelope. I knew you were a team player. By the way, there’s one more shake, if you want to—”
But Penelope was already headed for the door. She moved slowly towards her desk, almost whimpering at the sensation of her distended nipples rubbing into her clothing. She just had to hold on a little while longer.
Penelope carefully sat down. She took the opportunity to appraise herself. Her breasts were bobbing and shivering with her every tiny movement. Her quilted sweater was actually beginning to tear in places, to her horror. And she felt almost suffocated from the heat the mounds radiated.
She was about to leak, she knew it, but she had to hold on. Focus… Penelope turned on her computer. You got this, you got this, she repeated to herself like a mantra. She heard the noise of tearing fabric, but tried not to look. As her coworkers passed by, they often did double takes or craned their necks to gawk at her. The aroma of sweet almonds filled her nostrils.
Almost…finished… Penelope thought, her face flushed, sweat pouring down her temple. She had just saved the final draft when the dam broke.
Her nipples contracted, and fluid poured into her shirt as she gasped and shuddered.
4.
After she finished the report, Penelope went home in complete mortification. Everyone at work had seen her stretching out her clothes, seeping fluid until her top was sopping. The janitor had arrived with a mop then proceeded to stare at her, looking completely confounded. It had been absolutely humiliating. She didn't know how she was going to face them when she went back in to work Monday morning.
When Penelope went home, she ordered several padded maternity bras and paid for rush delivery. She also didn't drink at all, not even a sip of water for the rest of the day.
The following day, the bras arrived. Her breasts were large and tender, still dripping somewhat. She began to try on the bras, and to her dismay, her mounds strained against the cups, bulging heavily, and close to tearing free. She looked down at herself in disbelief. She couldn't believe how huge she had gotten. The bras were HHH-cups or larger.
Penelope didn't drink any fluids that day either. It might not have been the smartest idea. By evening she was getting dizzy. Yet she hoped that somehow her breasts would miraculously shrink if she abstained from fluids as long as she could. At least she had stopped lactating.
The following day was Sunday, and Penelope awoke to several text and voicemail reminders from family members (her mother particularly), reminding her of a reunion she had agreed to months prior. Her grandfather would be visiting from Canada. "Who knows when you'll get the opportunity to see him again—if at all," her mother always told her morbidly.
Penelope arrived that evening dressed in several layers, including a sweater and jacket, but all eyes immediately shot to the still-huge bulges on her chest. Her cousin Paul spat his drink, causing her to go red.
Almost everyone in her extended family was there, even family friends. Penelope averted her eyes when she caught sight of her weird childhood neighbor Val, who was all grown up, but still seemed to dress in all black.
Though the place was full to the brim with people, Penelope did her best to avoid as many of them as possible. She found herself slipping off to the kitchen, stumbling slightly from how dehydrated she was. By then she felt like she was going to pass out. She knew she couldn't go on much longer like this, but here just wasn't the place to drink. If she could just wait a few hours, until she got home...
She laid eyes on a huge pitcher of milk, sitting right there on the kitchen counter. She caved, lifting the pitcher and gulping greedily. The milk was sweet and surprisingly creamy. She didn't stop drinking until she was sated, by which point the whole pitcher was gone. She groaned as her breasts wobbled somewhat on her chest.
"Penny what on earth?" said her mother as she strolled in. "What do you have under your shirt? You look absolutely ridiculous." Her mother went to the pitcher and frowned at it. "What did you do with the pudding mix?"
"P-pudding mix?" said Penelope.
"It was for dessert. I made it from scratch, but it was taking a while to set. Don't tell me you threw it away? Penelope, this isn't like you..."
Penelope pulled off her jacket. She was suddenly feeling very hot. "I...I have to go to the bathroom," she said, walking off despite that her mother was still chattering away.
Her breasts felt heated, sweat forming on every inch of her body. Penelope pulled off her sweater, feeling breathless and flushed. Her nipples were aching and bulging hard. She felt her honeydew-sized breasts prickling as they swelled. She made it to the bathroom but the door was locked. Occupied.
"Penn, are you alright?" someone said nearby.
Penelope grunted as her nipples began to seep something uncomfortably thick, creating stains in her shirt. The pudding. She tried hiding it by crossing her arms, to little avail. She was simply too large. She groaned quietly as her tingling nipples seeped more. The process was difficult and rousing. Her thighs trembled all while her breasts continued to advance.
The bathroom door opened and someone shuffled off. Penelope breathed a sigh of relief and entered. She drew up her shirt and groaned as she leaned heavily on the sink. "Goddd..." she moaned out as she tried to sort of push. She squeezed her nipples and whined as she produced fat dollops of pudding. Her breasts were so soft and plump yet so full somehow. They continued to tremble and swell out, starting to resemble volleyballs on her chest. "Fuck me," she breathed.
There was a knock on the door. "Is everything alright in there?" someone called in a monotone. It sounded like…Val??
Penelope furrowed her brows. "It's fine," she whimpered.
"I'm coming in," Val called, and Penelope belatedly noticed that she had left the door unlocked.
"No—don't—"
But the door had already swung open. Val walked in just in time to watch Penelope's left breast produce another fat dollop of pudding.
Penelope moaned. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me," she admitted miserably.
Then to her surprise, Val closed the bathroom door and locked it behind her.
5.
"I-I don't know how this happened," Penelope rambled as Val simply stood there and stared at her. Though most of her layers had been shed, Penelope's tank top remained, currently bunched over her chest. Penelope belatedly thought to pull it down, stretching it over her huge mounds, though it had stopped covering her stomach days before, rendered a belly shirt by her massive breasts and leaving her slim abdomen exposed. "Every time I drink something it goes straight to my boobs," Penelope went on, a little hysterical. "I've become a mutant or—ohhh..."
Her breasts were packed. There was simply no room left. They pulsed with tension as her nipples ached and throbbed. The pudding was still trying to arduously push it’s way out of her, breasts contracting and nipples straining as the substance seeped. Penelope watched two wet smudges form on her top though it wasn't much. She groaned and fidgeted, breasts bobbing. She found herself arching. "God, they're just so full," she gasped out.
Val just stood there in silent observation. She didn't even seem particularly shocked or alarmed. Then again, Val always had had a rather deadpan personality. Finally, she crossed her arms. "Do you want to get out of here?"
It wasn't as though Penelope had a wealth of options. And the idea of getting away from her family was instantly appealing. Though she was rather cagey about Val. The two of them had never exactly been friends. "Where did you have in mind?" Penelope managed.
"Let's just go for a drive."
-
Val's sports car was uncomfortably compact and Penelope suspected that if she had been in the driver's seat, her breasts would have been pressing against the steering wheel.
Val drove at a mercifully smooth and slow pace. She pulled over in front of a small ice cream parlor of all places, but the scene was quiet and the interior looked empty.
Penelope looked at the layers of clothes she had doffed, all sitting in a messy pile perched in her lap. She began to pull it apart to find the shirt she would get on first.
"Don't bother with that," said Val as she put the car in park.
Penelope looked at her as though she was insane. "I'm immodest," she protested.
"You look fine," said Val, nodded to the ill-fitting tank top Penelope had on. "More than fine," Val added with a smirk.
Penelope's cheeks reddened. Had Val just flirted with her?
"How are you any less modest than all the other girls walking around in belly shirts around here?” Val pulled her long bangs out of her eyes. “What, because you're a little more developed?" She was certainly simplifying things.
"Let's just go in," said Penelope in resignation. Anything to distract her from the growing tension in her tits.
The parlor indeed was empty, except for one middle-aged worker whose eyes bulged when they laid on Penelope's chest. She couldn't exactly blame him. The white fabric was becoming transparent from the steadily seeping substance so that her pink nipples were visible, fat almost as golf balls by then. Penelope was still quietly panting, skin flushed as she tried to bear the mounting pressure. She shuffled over to a table and got a seat.
Val went to the counter then joined Penelope at the table, not with a single serving of ice cream, but a whole gallon-sized carton.
"Who is all this for?" Penelope managed, resisting the urge to cup her heaving breasts, each the size of a volley ball and only growing.
"I thought we could share.”
"It's not a good idea Val."
"Just one bite?" Val lifted a spoonful of vanilla ice cream to Penelope's lips, and the gesture was so surprising, Penelope opened her mouth and took it in.
It was kind if erotic. Sitting there, being fed ice cream by her gothy neighbor, with the shop worker goggling them. Penelope parted her lips for the next spoonful.
"Good?" said Val. When Penelope finished, Val licked the spoon too.
Penelope closed her eyes and hummed as her chest tightened. Maybe the thinness of the ice cream would help loosen up the pudding.
"Open," Val ordered.
Scoop by scoop, Penelope worked her way through the whole container, with Val's aid. By the time Penelope finished, she was sweating profusely. Her breasts were so tight, practically bouncing. Her nipples were seeping continuously rather than erratically, so that had to be good. Right?
"So full…" Penelope groaned.
"God," Val breathed. Her hand hoovered near Penelope's left breast, but then she froze, and lowered it. The door chimed as a young couple strolled into the parlor, not noticing Penelope and Val even as they tried to get the hypnotized worker's attention.
"Let's go back to the car," said Val.
"Nghhh...yeah," Penelope agreed breathily. She heaved herself up, noticing that the coverage of her tank top was even worse than before, some of the underside of her breasts now exposed. Lightly shaking her head, she followed Val out of the parlor.
6.
Work was bad the following day.
At first, the leaking was only erratic. A couple of minutes on and off. Thankfully things had loosened up so the tension wasn't too bad anymore, and Penelope limited herself to tiny sips of water. This was an important day, after all.
Penelope took frequent bathroom breaks to change the pieces of fabric she had stuffed in her top to soak up the milk. It was a lot, but she tried not to get overwhelmed. She maintained a composed demeanor and had gotten used to the stares by then so did her best to just try to get some work done.
To her dismay, the milk output only seemed to be intensifying. It wasn't surprising. She knew she had overdone things the previous day.
Penelope tried to adapt. She increased the frequency of her breaks and added an extra layer of fabric against her nipples. She tried to breathe through the tense feeling in her nipples and the sensation of them tingling as they continued to leak.
It was noon and Penelope was already on her fourth bathroom break.
She went inside, breathing heavily as she made her way to the sink. Her breasts were just so weighty now. So round and full. She watched them heave, practically pulsing. Her fingers trembled as she hurriedly unbuttoned her top, gasping out as the mounds were released, the fabric falling away and her nipples dripping persistently.
They were just huge. They were beginning to resemble basketballs to be honest. They wobbled and heaved as she arched, groaned, and allowed her milk to dribble into the sink. They were so heated from their contents and it was a true relief to let them loose, the artificially cool air beating against her skin pleasantly.
There was a knock on the door that made Penelope start slightly, her mounds shuddering.
"Boss is waiting to do the presentation prep," called Penelope's colleague, Janis.
"Right," Penelope managed. "I, er, I'll be right out."
Penelope listened to Janus' footsteps tread away, drew one more deep breath, then began the process of "repackaging" her chest, buttoning them into her ever-tightening blouse, and placing several fresh squares of fabric against her swollen nipples to collect the milk. The fabric was already starting to dampen but Penelope was certain she had at least an hour before she had to report back to the bathroom.
Lightly shaking her head, Penelope exited, walking slowly to prevent excessive rocking. She made her way over to Carl's office, and before she could even knock, heard him call, "Come in!"
Penelope stepped inside and her fears were confirmed. She had half a mind to turn around at the sight of the various jugs of fluid of various colors littering Carl's desk.
"I started a new line of juices," Carl said. "Cold pressed. All natural. I was hoping you could give me some feedback while we go over our notes."
Penelope was already sweating. "I shouldn't." She sat down slowly opposite the desk, but once she did, she found that she was already squirming to take her leave.
"It's all natural, Penn. No additives. You'll be fine," Carl insisted.
"I—I really don't think I should." She was really beginning to resent how mild-mannered she was. Why couldn't she just give her boss a definitive No.
"Penelope, you know how deeply I value your input. Why the sudden change? Are you upset with me? Did you not like the last samples?"
Her breasts were throbbing, her shirt tightening and loosening at intervals. "God," she breathed, feeling resigned. Carl tilted his head in confusion.
Penelope grabbed hold of one of the jugs and slid it towards her. She took off the cover and downed it. It had to be at least a liter of fluid. She gulped it all down in minutes, then lowered the jug, flushed and gasping as she tried to process the fruity taste coating her mouth. "It's good," she forced out.
Carl marveled in pleasure.
Giving in to her extreme feelings of thirst and defeat, Penelope made her way through the remaining juices throughout the meeting with Carl. She grew increasingly flustered and sweaty, and was having difficulty focusing on the discussion. Her blouse was squeezing her, and she felt like a dam was about to burst inside her.
"I think we're done," Carl said, snapping Penelope out of her reverie. "We have about ten minutes before your presentation. Just enough time to prepare the conference room and—"
"I have to go to the bathroom," Penelope blurted. She hauled herself up before Carl could protest and hurried off to the lavatory.
By the time she made it to the sink and pulled her shirt open, the milk had almost seeped through to her blouse. Her nipples sprayed forcefully, causing her to arch and groan and curse.
How the hell was she going to get through this presentation?
