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Kendra's breasts were aching all day. Heavy. Full. I could see the wet spots forming on her shirt before she even said a word. I didn't ask. I just pushed her back onto the bed, pulled down her top, and latched on. My lips sealed around her swollen nipple and the first thick stream of warm milk hit my tongue. I moaned into her chest. Swallowed. Then sucked harder. She arched her back and pulled my face deeper — begging me not to stop, needing me to drain every drop. I moved to the other tit without being told. Milk ran down her stomach in white rivulets, pooled in her belly button, soaked into the sheets beneath us. I slapped her breast to make more spray out. She gasped. Then pushed my head right back down. By the time I finished, both breasts were empty, her nipples were raw, and the bed was a complete mess. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and just smiled at her. Eleven minutes of me hungry and relentless on Kendra's milky tits. No script. Just two girls and too much milk.