Carol walked towards the security gate at Hamble harbour carrying the small holdall of her favourite slaggy clothes and toys that she'd been instructed to bring.She smiled at the guard who struggled to take his attention from her massive chest, inwardly she cursed herself,she'd been told to wear somber clothes and not draw attention to herself,in retrospect she should of gone to the toilets at the train station and expressed a couple of jars.Too late now though, the pads on her nursing bra were soaked through.  Who would of thought you could spend three hours in a traffic jam in such a small place?   She'd wanted to get her tits out in the cab and just relieve the pressure, fuck it let the milk flow free, but her instructions had been precise.

It seemed such a short time since that package arrived yet a lifetime ago.Ten thousand pounds in cash and five needle pens of lactolin...she'd heard of it of course, being a midwife she was always encouraging her clients to breastfeed and for those who struggled this was the new miracle, increasing milk production dramaticly it had even been used by some women for breast augmentation.

For herself though milk production had never been a problem she'd always considered her breasts as her finest asset, even Wilf, her rather staid hubby had loved her mamms, always pleased at the way he could tweak them with his fingers or rub his cock on them and elicit a tiny stream of yellowish milk.

Not even to this day had he realised how much she loved milking her tits, she'd never stopped, after the kids no longer needed it, she carried on using the expresser. When she was at work, twice a day in the bathroom, on her breaks. it was always attached,each suck on her nipples and resultant flow somehow making her twinge down below until she couldn't help herself ....sitting in a cubicle in the works toilet with a bloody breast pump on each tit with her hand ramping her flange, loving the feel of the milk flowing through her breasts, while her hand was flicking her flange, she'd squirt juices uncontrolably almost like pissing there was so much juice flooding her slop box, soaking  the thick absorbant cotten panties she'd learned to wear

Now though 3 months on, after the lactolin, she was so uncomfortable if she didn't milk herself every two hours and,with nearly five hours since her last session, her breasts were ready to explode and her poor gasping cunthole was biting her thighs, lips swollen in anticipation.

  Trying not to look down at her milk soaked blouse she smiled at the guard as she presented her pass, "Carol heiffer, crew aboard the yacht Sharzad"