What he needed was milk, and not the kind in the supermarket dairy case either. It had to come directly from a breast, so he could taste the warm, del...cious fluid as it trickled into his mouth, and smell the sweet, motherly aroma of the woman, and feel the rough texture of her nipple and areola on his lips and tongue, along with the soft skin of her breasts. It wouldn't really take much more than a mouthful, but he had no woman available to provide him with even that much. There was nobody. We got to our feet to greet them,and Grace did the introductions."Moms, this is Trish," she said, as we shook hands with the nervousteenager, "and Trish...I'm Grace, this is my mother Janice, and thisis my other mother Janice."She laughed uproariously at this, while Trish looked puzzled andslightly alarmed."Don't worry about it," I told the girl, trying to suppress a smile,"our daughter has been a fan of old twentieth century sitcoms sinceshe was a small child. That's a line she adapted from. More

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