Petranella’s Lactation Control
Petranella’s Lactation Control
An Adult Nursing and Lactation Erotica Story
Elliot Silvestri
This is a work of fiction. All of the character, organizations, and events portrayed in this work are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Petranella’s Lactation Control
Copyright © 2018 Green Bush Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.
A Green Bush Publishing Book
The characters and events portrayed in this work are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Contains adult material that might not be suitable for all audiences. This work is a fantasy; in your own life be sure to follow safer sex practices.
All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Petranella cursed as the liquid spilled across the back of her hand. The nitrile gloves she wore should have protected her, but they only covered up to her wrists. The chemical mixture spilled all the way up to her forearm.
It didn’t burn, but she could feel the warmth of the liquid. She immediately dropped everything she was doing and rushed to the emergency wash station. Pulling the handle, gallons of water rushed out and swept away the offending chemical. She knew it wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, but she only had Ron’s word to go on that. She was doing the tests for him as a favor, and though he was largely trustworthy for a supervisor, he was also known for pushing the limits of acceptable risk.
“I’m going home early,” she told her coworkers after the emergency was over. They had rushed over and assisted her, but it wasn’t much of an emergency in the end. It was still good enough for an early end to the workday.
“How was your day, hon?” Ben asked when she walked through the door. Of course he was home. It wasn’t like he was a slacker and didn’t work. Ben had a nine to five that was banker regular. She was the one with the job with the weird hours. Petranella had no reason to complain; Ben was a wonderful husband doing more than his fair share around the house and everywhere else, but it still hurt to see him lounging on the couch playing a video game. Even if the house was clean. Even if dinner was in the oven. Even if she loved him.
“Shitty. I’m home early. I dumped a beaker of…hell, you don’t want to hear about a long string of organic compounds, do you?”
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said in response, pausing the game.
She nodded and dropped down on the couch next to him, staring at the frozen image on the television. That’s when Ben saw the bright red mark on her forearm.
“Jesus! What happened to you?” He sat bolt upright, suddenly understanding what she had said.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Not even a burn. Just some discoloration.”
He frowned doubtfully at the mark but deferred to her expertise. “Did you have someone look at it?”
“Yes, the lab nurse cleared me. I’m fine but if it swells or itches or anything out of the normal happens, I’m to go to my local emergency services location immediately.”
It was an almost normal evening after that. Dinner, some chores, relaxation, showers, and bed.
When they got into bed was when Petranella felt it. Maybe it was when she had been showering. It was her habit to sleep in one of Ben’s over-large t-shirts and panties. She had dug into her dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of panties that were covered in tiger stripes, what little material there was to show tiger stripes.
Her sex panties.
She only wore them when she wanted sex.
She didn’t even wait for Ben to see them. As soon as he got into bed next to her, she threw a leg over his body and rolled on top of him.
“What’s got you in the mood?” he asked as she sat up and pulled the large blue t-shirt with a logo from a long-forgotten sci-fi movie on it up over her head, exposing her breasts.
“Can’t a girl want to get laid just because?” she asked, running her hands over her breasts. They weren’t very large, but Ben claimed B cups were the perfect size, neither too big nor too small.
“Sure,” he agreed, resting his hands on her thighs and watching her lightly twist her nipples. Her crotch was positioned right over his. He could feel the heat of her pussy and she could feel this hardness of his cock through his thin pajama pants. “But who says you’re getting laid tonight?”
She laughed at him, wiggling her hips a bit, feeling his cock pressing against her thickening labia, enjoying how it felt. “I do. You don’t have any say in the matter.”
“I don’t?”
Petranella had been looking down at her tits, watching what her fingers were doing to her nipples. Normally they were small and very light brown, but now they had swollen up and had taken on a darker cast. It felt good when she squeezed and rolled them. She wanted them played with a little more and so she leaned forward, offering her small breasts to her husband’s mouth.
“You don’t. I’m getting laid tonight and you’re going to provide all the necessary services.”
Ben was willing. He took one nipple into his mouth and gently sucked, getting the bit of delicate flesh between his teeth. Petranella inhaled sharply when he found her other nipple with his fingers and pinched it hard enough to make her thighs quiver.
“God yes, do that,” she encouraged him.
He sat up, pulling her up with him, while keeping his mouth on one nipple and his fingers on the other. Her legs went around his body as he wiggled his way out of the pajama bottoms he wore.
“I want to fuck you,” he said around her nipple as it swelled in his mouth.
“Just my tits,” she mumbled, only half aware of what he was doing.
Ben ignored her and picked her body up enough to get his cock out and situated between her legs. Her tiger striped panties prevented easy penetration, but that didn’t stop Ben. With a touch of effort he lifted her up a little higher and pushed aside the thin piece of silk that was preventing him from penetrating his wife. He was good and hard, which wasn’t unusual, but Ben was surprised at how eager he was to have sex with Petranella—she was beautiful and willing and he loved her, of course, but usually it took him a little more effort to get hard.
He lowered her lithe body down on his cock, even as he continued to suck on her nipple. He slid easily into her. Her pussy was a swamp of desire. They fitted together perfectly and once inside he inhaled deeply through his nose, luxuriating in how good it felt to have their bodies joined together.
“Harder,” she told him, which confused Ben because he hadn’t thrusted once yet and with her sitting on his lap she was in control of their joining, he was literally just there for the ride.
Pulling back from her breast he asked, “Harder what?”
“Suck on me harder,” she told him with some frustration. “Pinch my nipple harder!”
It wasn’t that his wife was averse to having her tits played with, it was just that she had never encouraged him like that before. “Sure, Ella, tell me if I’m hurting you.”
She nodded eagerly, a feral look on her face. He switched between her breasts, sucking on the one he had been pinching and vice versa. When she made a low, satisfied noise in the back of her throat, he knew he was onto something.
“Feels fucking good,” she said to him between clenched teeth.
He smiled around the fullness of her breast, please he was making her happy. He moved his hips a little and she got the hint. A moment later she started grinding her hips, riding his cock.
“More,” she told him. “More.”
He kept sucking and pinching while she slowly humped him. Her pleasure wasn’t coming from her pussy, but from his attention focused on her tits. This wasn’t something they had done before, but it wasn’t all that strange either. Ben figured if his wife wanted to fuck like this, he was happy to accommodate her.
Sex with Petranella was always good and this time was no exception. Ben held back as long as possible, but the way she was riding him, the moans she was making, and her insistence on holding his head against her chest where he had to suck on her nipples was all too much. He wanted to make her cum first, not only was it polite, in his opinion, but he knew that once he came, he was done and his wife deserved as much sexual fulfillment in her life as possible. It was one of her few released.
But this night he couldn’t last. All too soon he felt himself on the brink and then her moans and her body pushed him over the edge.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gasped after he came. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, shh,” she vocalized to him. “It’s fine. It’s good. It’s what I wanted.”
She stayed on top of him, straddling his body, exchanging kisses, holding him close, until he drifted off to sleep. That was the one real problem with Ben. He was a good lover, but almost immediately after he came, he’d fall asleep. It wasn’t so bad.
After a minute he was snoring lightly and his cock shriveled up and slipped out of her pussy. She waited a little longer, and then carefully threw her leg over him, cautiously slipping out of the bed. Padding lightly to the bathroom, she sat on the toilet and cleaned up with a washcloth, tossing it into the hamper when she was done.
Sex with Ben was good, but she hadn’t cum. Petranella liked cumming. For years in high school and college she had thought that sex was just okay but then, her first boyfriend out of college and taught her that sex wasn’t just nice, but with the proper attention to her needs, she could climax so hard that she wanted to pass out. Ever since the sex had been great.
But tonight she was disappointed. She had wanted to cum, but it didn’t happen. She didn’t blame Ben, though she could have. She had been overly aggressive and overeager. It had been too fast for her husband.
Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, she took quick stock of herself. Sex hair, too pale skin, slightly overly curved tummy, and breasts that her husband claimed to love but she thought were too small. Tonight they looked bigger than usual. She thought about where she was in her cycle and the swelling was early, but it seemed much larger than normal. Or maybe they were just sore because of the attention she had demanded from Ben.
It seemed to her that her nipples wanted more. They were standing up proudly and she wasn’t cold, just aroused. Without thinking about it, her hands went to her breasts and she found herself playing with her nipples. It felt good and she didn’t want to stop.
Not that Petranella was morally against masturbation of any sort, she just didn’t do a lot of it. Thinking back, she was certain that most of her masturbation had been in front of a partner or on the phone when she was doing a long-distance relationship. Rarely had she done it entirely for herself.
This night was different. It felt like her tits were on fire, but a pleasant warming fire. A fire that needed to be stoked. She stared at herself in the mirror and continued to twist and pull her nipples. It felt really good. Cumming from nipple play alone wasn’t something that worked for Petranella, but that wasn’t a reason to stop. Backing up a bit, she pressed her back against the wall and let go of her right breast so that she could play with her pussy.
Her eyes closed and she focused on her body. It would have been easier is she was laying down, but that was too much effort. She needed to cum and she’d do it standing.
As much as she liked what her fingers were doing to her clit, it was actually more of a distraction. She pulled her hand from between her legs and focused on her nipples. A quick glance down showed that maybe they had enflamed to twice their normal size. They didn’t hurt. The more she played with them the better they felt.
Slowly she slid her back down the cool tile until her bare ass was resting on the floor. She couldn’t see herself in the mirror any longer, but she didn’t need to stare into her face. Closing her eyes made it easier to cum. She was used to cumming with Ben’s hand or cock in her pussy, but just playing with her nipples now was fine. It was perfect. Exactly what she needed.
What worked best was squeezing as hard as she could and twisting at the same time. It felt incredibly good; it should have hurt, but it didn’t it was what her body was craving.
When she came, it was the sort of relief like after expecting the worst news and getting good news instead. She slid to her side and recovered on the tile floor. Her cheek rested on the bathmat but it provided no warmth.
Standing up she caught sight of herself in the mirror once more. Petranella had never thought she was beautiful or even just plain pretty, but now, after her intense climax, she re-evaluated herself and thought that maybe she was more attractive than she had always considered herself. Giving herself a quick once over, she thought that maybe her tits were much better than she always thought. They looked bigger than normal, but that had to be from the way she had been abusing herself. Her light brown nipples had taken on a red cast and looked positively radiant.
Her hands were wet and slick. When she came she tended to get sweaty, she grabbed the washcloth out of the hamper and dried off her hands, chest, arms and legs. Smiling one more time at herself in the mirror she flicked off the lights and went back to bed with Ben.
Chapter Two
Petranella’s forearm didn’t hurt but there was a red mark on it where the chemical mix had spilled the day before. In shower she poked at it. There was no swelling or pain and the mark was decided less vivid than the day before. She allowed for the possibility that it was just a mild allergic reaction or chemical burn, but that was unlikely since none of the agents she had been working with were caustic. More than likely it was just an unexpected staining from skin contact.
The smart thing to do would be to wear long sleeves and hope that no one saw the mark. But she wasn’t into wearing a demure, boring blouse today. She was feeling good and sexy, especially after making herself cum last night, so she managed to find a blouse that had long sleeves but was also cut fairly tight with a plunging neckline. It wasn’t that she had a huge amount of cleavage to show off, but what she did have was going on display today with the able assistance of a fancy while lace bra bought a year ago for a wedding. Pleased with the results she added a skirt that came right above her knees and went downstairs to parade in front of Ben.
His eyes went wide, torn away from the financial channel on the television. “Looking good,” he complimented her. “What’s the occasion? Meeting up with an old boyfriend?”
“Maybe,” she flirted back at his teasing. “Would that make you jealous?”
“Terribly. I’d have to kill him.”
“What if it was an old girlfriend I was meeting? I bet you’d like that.”
“Well, in that case, I’d have to ask if I could watch.
“Just watch?”
“Maybe join in,” he said with a smile.
She bent forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead, which gave him a quick glimpse down her shirt. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to cheat on you.”
“Promise?”
The smile tugged at her lips. “No.”
The day at the lab started like any other, everyone was glad to see her back, whole and healthy. She took their happy greetings in stride and got to work but found herself distracted not only by her coworkers’ overly forward greetings but by her own body. While she had been happy to flirt with Ben in the morning and had been anticipating another round of vigorous sex that evening, she found the needs of her body were incredibly strong.
In college more than once Petranella had found herself with a packed schedule and a body that demanded too much attention. There were days when she barely had time to grab a quick lunch between classes. And there were days where she eschewed lunch and instead slipped away to one of the private bathrooms in the science building to jill off. She never regretted those days.
It wasn’t even noon when she was fighting the urge to the point of distraction. Not being able to focus on her work was worse than giving herself a ten-minute timeout in the private bathroom. She didn’t have much of a plan other than to quickly take care of business and get back to work, but on the walk down the hall she was cornered by one of the younger techs the lab had taken on in the last round of hires. He was undeniably cute and if she had been having an after-work drink with everyone, she wouldn’t have hesitated to flirt shamelessly. This just didn’t seem to be the place.
“Looking good today, Petra.”
“Thanks, Jonas.”
“Not that you don’t look good every day.” He was smiling a little too broadly and blocking her way. If she had been headed for the bathroom to use it for the intended purpose she would have been extremely put out, but it was okay to engage in some harmless flirting while no one else was around.
“I do what I can to brighten the place up,” she said and laughed. They worked all day under extremely harsh fluorescent lighting. “You’re looking nice too.”
Even under the ugly lights he brightened at her compliment. “Thanks for noticing.”
“You’re much better looking than the old guys that have been here for a hundred years.” She looked meaningfully back at the main lab. She was wildly exaggerating, of course, but the two of them were among the youngest of the techs.
“Thanks. Probably too young for you though, right?” he asked nervously.
They had crossed from vague flirting into making veiled overtures. Still, she smiled at his clumsy pass. “I don’t think you’re too young for me. But I’m not a cougar quite yet.”
“Just a sexy older woman,” he said, his face reddening slightly when he realized that they were feeling each other out, seeing how far from harmless flirtation they could stray.
“Definitely sexy,” she said, leaning forward a bit, letting his eyes stray down to her small bit of cleavage. It was just enough to draw his attention. “And definitely married.” She glanced down at the rings on her left hand.
Jonas straightened up and cleared his throat. “Right. I forgot that.” He was suddenly on his best behavior. They had both glanced down at her hand when she mentioned being married. She looked beyond her fingers and saw the bulge in the front of his pants.
“But it’s not like my husband is here. Now. And it is just a piece of paper.” She didn’t know what she was saying. Petranella couldn’t believe what she was saying. They locked eyes for a few seconds too long, taking in the exact meaning of what she had just said.
Swallowing hard, Jonas pressed his luck. “Too bad were stuck here at work. If we were out having a drink—”
“Bathroom at the end of the hall is private,” she said. “I was just headed there to jill off.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She knew what she was saying, but she didn’t have the will—or the want—to stop herself.
“What?” Jonas wanted to be shocked, but at the same time he was already under her spell.
“Care to join me?” she asked, carefully stepping around him and walking with confidence down the hall. She put more swing than necessary into her hips and wished that lab safety protocols demanded non-slip shoes. A pair of heels would have been perfect at the moment. It took her total concentration not to look back over her shoulder, desperately hoping he was following her while at the same time hoping he wasn’t following her. Then she started thanking the powers that be that she wasn’t wearing heels because she assuredly would have fallen on the tiled floor.
Upon reaching the bathroom door she pushed it open and walked in, swallowing in relief that Jonas hadn’t followed her. ...