He smiled and said: "That's what I call a 'milking bench.' "I was intrigued by it. He explained how it worked. I was even more intrigued than ever by ...hat he said about it! I told him about my friend who had told me about him, and what he did with interested guys. He didn't remember my friend. "But I see a lot of men, you see! I probably have milked your friend. I just don't remember."We chatted a little bit more, and then he asked if I was interested in experiencing what he had to offer; and,. He looked uncomfortable, staring at the ground, his fade turning a light red. His eyes flicker up to my face briefly before he locks them onto my chest. My fucking stupid chest, no bra, hard nipples I would almost have been insulted if he didn’t look. His arms move forward, and he takes a step towards me. His touch is soft as he cups each of my breasts, feeling them and rolling them around in his palm. I feel a tear trickle from my left eye down my cheek. I stand there not making a sound as im. More

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