The waitress Jon was fondling smiled. “That’s how
you do it. I think I’m ready for the main show,”
she said with a growl as she pushed his pants down and pulled out his
very hard penis. She slowly began to stroke it. The second waitress
kept Jon from responding or protesting by placing a tit in his mouth.
Jon smiled happily as he and the waitress began to stroke vigorously
before mounting him. The crowd around cheered at the show.
With the sight of Jon and the cowgirls in the background, several more
couples started sex. Several women were now shooting milk like
fountains from their breasts as they engaged in a wide array of sexual
positions. One group of about a dozen people were all busy
licking, sucking, and fucking each other in a large circle with streams
of milk flying from all directions.
Watching all this were two teen girls at the bar. They had
come to Pleasure Island to have a good time, and the spontaneous orgy
in the milk bar definitely seemed like a good time. Not that they would
join, but it was always fun to watch. They both drank thick, creamy
milkshakes as the scene unfolded around them. “See any you
like?” Michelle asked.
Cynthia shook her head and kept drinking. She put her glass down, a
milk moustache was still on her face, “oh come on, you
don’t seriously want join this, do you?” Cynthia
had a bit of sincerity in her voice. She never knew when it came to
Michelle and sex. She shifted on her barstool uncomfortably. She kept
pulling and tugging at her breasts. They did not seem to want to
settle. “Ugh…my bra is really tight,”
she complained to her friend. She could not seem to stop squirming.
In between sips, Michelle asked, “Why don’t you
take it off?” She then gave an evil grin before pulling her
arms into her shirt. After some squirming and giggling of her own, her
arms emerged, holding her empty pink bra. “Come on, there is
an orgy two feet away. Being braless is like wearing a sweater right
now.” She looked down at her shirt and two wet spots. She
giggled and rubbed each with one finger. “Must be the
atmosphere. Something in the milk.”
Cynthia shrugged, and then reached around behind herself to unclasp her
bra. It was extremely tight, much tighter than what it
normally was. She struggled with it, but it finally came loose.
“Ouch!” she cried, “my goddamn
bra bit me!” She looked intently at her hand, but
there was no blood, instead from her fingertip dripped milk.
Thick and creamy it slowly ran down her hand. She showed her hand to
Michelle before licking it, “milk… I’m
leaking milk…” She looked quizzically at her
friend.
“Must be something in the milk. Don’t worry, it is
happening to everyone,” Michelle calmed her.
Cynthia wanted to tell her fingers should not be lactating, but she
never got the chance. For as she sat there puzzled, Cynthia
suddenly exploded in a great gout of milk. Her skin seemed to vanish
like an exploding balloon. The milk went everywhere soaking Michelle
and anyone in range with gallons of the stuff. Nothing was
left of Cynthia except her clothes and a puddle of milk on the floor,
walls, ceiling, and the roaring crowd.