I wanted the fact I was lactating kept hidden under wraps.“Oh my goodness, they are real!” Mike exclaimed, eyes widening.“I mean of course they ...re?” I asked him.“Damn, I just lost a bet,” he announced. I froze. It hadn’t occurred that people would be betting on whether my breasts were real or not. Just as I was about to ask more questions, Mike thanked me and ran out the door, tossing $50 inside before he slammed it behind him.I had no opinion of what had just happened apart from a sense of. "Those aren't boobs," he'd returned. They're fucking beestings!" Beforehe could bring himself to fuck her, he'd been adamant, Tammy would haveto have womanly breasts--breasts of a "C" cup size, at least. Then, hecould fuck her, he'd insisted, despite her cock and balls; otherwise, nomatter how feminine she looked, he'd feel like a faggot fucking a dude.His words had hurt, but they'd also motivated her to schedule breastimplant surgery.James had no idea, of course, what she'd been through or. More

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