This story is based upon one of the first lactation/BE stories I can remember reading. Long before I had begun buying big breast magazines, long before the internet. The original story was a 'letter' to Penthouse. It was only a few paragraphs long at best. The ending scene is taken from my memory of that 'letter'. The rest is my own creation.

Joey loved Andrea. He was initially entranced by her good looks, but they had truly fallen in love. Just about everyone was taken with her appearance, which is why it was no surprise to Joey that Andrea was trying her hand at a modeling career.

She had the perfect fashion modeling body - she was 5' 9", 34B - 22 - 34, with pale skin and chestnut brown hair. She had a devilishly cute little nose, full lips and cheekbones that loved the camera.

This was the vision that sat astride his naked body now, working her way up to another orgasm. Joey was busy massaging both of Andrea's breasts as she slid up and down the length of his cock. As he squeezed her breasts, he noticed drops of milk forming on the nipples. He casually rubbed the drops away with his thumbs, looking up at Andrea to see if she had seen. Andrea's eyes were closed, as she was obviously deep into the moment. His curiosity piqued, Joey squeezed her mounds of flesh a little harder, and again, a small white drop appeared on each nipple.

"Hey, honey?" Joey said softly.

"Yeah baby?" she answered breathily.

"Have you ever seen this before?" he asked, deliberately looking at her nipples extending from within his hands.

Andrea opened her eyes, and followed Joey's puzzled gaze to her chest. "What are you talking about?" she questioned.

"Watch this," Joey directed, and again forcefully squeezed her breasts. As they both watched, a few white drops of milk arose from her nipples. Joey loosened his grip, and Andrea said nothing. "You're not pregnant, are you? I mean...I would think that..."

Andrea ignored him, and now used her own hands to coax a few more drops of milk from her breasts. She wiped the drops off her nipples, and squeezed again. Once more, white drops of milk appeared. As she continued to squeeze, the drops collected, and then began to drip onto her legs and Joey, who still lay beneath her, wide-eyed with amazement.

"It's not unheard of," her gynecologist explained. "Some women have hormonal imbalances that trigger all sorts of conditions, from facial hair growth, to menopause-like hot flashes, to the lactation that you're experiencing."

"So, this is normal?" asked a topless Andrea from her seat on the paper cover bench.

"Well, it's nothing to worry about. You more than likely have some sort of hormonal imbalance," The doctor made a notation on her clipboard, and motioned for Andrea to put her top back on. "The blood test should be back in about a week. If your milk doesn't dry up on it's own, I can prescribe something for you. If that's the case, then we'll make another appointment." The doctor looked up from her clipboard, and opened the door for Andrea. "Until then, try not to worry about it. Maybe wear a padded bra in case you have a problem with leaking."

Andrea was comforted by the doctor's news, as she was fascinated with her lactating breasts. She had never felt so womanly in all her life. This was even better than when her breasts first developed. That first night Joey had noticed the milk coming from her breasts was a turning point in her life. After she got over the initial shock, she let Joey suck the milk from her breasts. The result was more than sexual. The act of giving milk somehow affirmed her own existence, as though that was her purpose in life.

A part of Andrea didn't want her milk to dry up. That same part couldn't wait to have Joey suck on her nipples again.

That night, and every night for the next few days, Andrea and Joey explored the joys of sex and lactation. Joey loved to have Andrea on top so he could suckle her swollen breasts as her penetrated her. They were both in heaven. It seemed each day, Andrea's supply would last a little bit longer, as the stimulation caused her to make more and more milk.

By the end of the week, Andrea had purchased a C cup bra.

Andrea had taken to occasionally milking herself at different times during the day, she enjoyed the feeling so much. On days when she didn't have a shoot scheduled, Andrea would spend almost an hour milking herself until she was dry. When she was working, she'd try to match the size of her breasts to the style of the photo shoot. If they wanted young and perky, Andrea would drain her breasts as much as possible. If the shot involved partial nudity or lingerie, she'd show up pleasantly full. Her only worry was if the shoot ran long, she wouldn't be the same size as when she first arrived.

With the arrival of her new gift, Andrea hadn't been posing for as much waif-like imagery as she used to. In fact, she realized that she had become too curvy for certain photographer's tastes.

 One night, the pressure emanating from within her breasts awoke Andrea. The familiar fullness of milking time, "now?" she asked herself. She looked at the bedside clock, which displayed 3:10 in unblinking red numbers. As Andrea twisted under the covers, she could feel her T-shirt cling wetly to her breasts She hadn't even made it through the night, and her milk had begun leaking from her swollen breasts! Joey had already gone home for the night, so once again Andrea was left to her own devices.

Andrea stumbled to the bathroom, pulling off the damp T-shirt on the way. She leaned over the sink, expressing her milk, watching the white fluid collect and wander down the drain. "What a waste," she said to herself. It was then that she had the idea to donate her breast milk. "There must be a hospital that needs breast milk," she mused.

After Andrea had milked herself enough to be comfortable again, she began looking up hospitals in the phone book, and made a short list of birthing and natal care departments to call.

The next day, by early afternoon, Andrea was at the county hospital. She began donating milk for babies who were put up for adoption, or otherwise motherless. She had been offered a position as a wet nurse, and though she did consider the option, Andrea drew a far better wage as a model. They did, however, pay her by the pint for her donations, which she could produce on her own schedule.

 "Are you sure you're not taking this a bit too far?" Joey asked Andrea, when she finished her story about her hospital visit. "I mean, I love it...the milk...your boobs...you know what I'm saying, but donating milk? Not that it isn't charitable, it's just that your milk will never dry up like this," he reasoned.

"Maybe I don't want to dry up," she snapped back, crossing her arms under her milk-filled melons.

Joey was stunned by the response. He had thought that eventually the novelty would wear off, and Andrea would have become tired of the constant maintenance her breasts were beginning to demand. He loved the feel of Andrea's more abundant bosom, and he certainly enjoyed the new twist in their sex life, but he felt that Andrea might not be thinking logically. "What are you saying?" Joey finally said, after he had thought about her response.

"I love giving milk," Andrea said simply. "I've never felt so alive...I feel like this is what I was designed for."

"All women are designed to breastfeed," Joey retorted, "after they give birth."

"But for some reason," she interrupted, "I'm lactating now."

Andrea had swelled into a D cup, and at the rate things were going, she'd be have to buy a double D in about two weeks. She wasn't getting any of the fashion shoots that she auditioned for, and the agents began sending her on more calls for beer ads and bikini shoots. Unlike her milky mammaries, the work had started to dry up. Donating milk at the post-natal ward at the nearby hospital did pay, but it was certainly not the rate Andrea was accustomed to. If nothing else, they paid by volume, and Andrea's supply showed no signs of diminishing.

She stopped to see her agent, Cecilia, to ask for more work. "Listen honey," Cecilia said, "you know I can't send you on the clothing shoots with those boobs! Real or not, the outfits aren't made for figures like yours. You're still a beautiful girl, but they're selling the clothes and selling an image, and you don't fit either right now."

"But I've always done well, these clients know I can do the job..." Andrea protested.

"Let me be blunt, since we're all professionals here," Cecila interrupted. "The clients are calling me asking 'why did I send the stripper?' They all think you've been augmented, and I know you haven't, but the customer is always right. They know what they want and it's their call, not mine. I'm sorry."

Andrea knew Cecilia was right. She had never planned that she might be kicked out of the modeling world so quickly and unceremoniously.

"Sweetie, you know you can still do some promotional work. Most of those guys would kill to have you," her agent said in an effort to comfort the blow.

"Promotional work!" Andrea shouted. "Why can't they just say beer girls? Walk around a bar in a mini skirt and low-cut tops, with guys ogling you like you're a stripper or something...and for a lot less than a stripper would..." she caught herself in mid thought. Without a word she walked out of the agency and into her car.

Andrea walked into the apartment that evening, trying her best to act normal. The memories of her afternoon in the strip club still fresh in her mind. Joey was already home from work, relaxing in front of the television. "Hi honey," he called.

"Hey," came Andrea's quick response as she headed to the bathroom for some privacy and a chance to regroup.

In the haven of the bathroom, she opened her purse, again amazed by the pile of bills she had gathered from the men at the club. In a few hours, she had made hundreds of dollars. Granted, she was new as dancer, and she wasn't the only girl with big breasts, real or otherwise. Andrea, however, set herself apart from the rest of the girls.

When Andrea had first arrived, she knew she her breasts were getting full, but she didn't have a pump, nor a good place to express her milk. She put off relieving herself, as initially she wanted her breasts to be as big as possible to make the best first impression. After strutting around for an hour between the runway and the table dances, her breasts were becoming swollen, and refused to hold back their milky bounty.

She began leaking while she was doing a runway show, and her efforts to stop the flow were all in vain. Each time she'd touch her bloated breasts, a few streams of milk would jet from her nipples. Little by little, the attention of most of the men in the club was drawn to Andrea, who was now beginning to realize the allure of her massive milk-filled melons.

Soon, the men were yelling for her to squirt at them, and Andrea began to oblige. Men were holding up tens, twenties, fifties, and she even garnered a hundred from one man, all for the privilege of having Andrea squirt her milk into their awaiting, open mouths. She had never felt so powerful in all her life.

The music had run out before her milk had, but Andrea knew enough to leave them wanting more. The club owner assured her that she was welcome to work there, and, even though it was her first time, he invited her into the club's top shift of girls. Despite the cattiness of the other girls, Andrea knew she would be back. She wanted the money, certainly, but she had also discovered a facet of her personality that she had never tapped into. She loved giving milk, and she had found a way to make a living doing what she loved.

What would she tell Joey? She was a model, after all, Andrea told herself. She had always been paid so that others could look at her. She wasn't doing lap dances, or taking customers into the secluded VIP area. She wasn't letting anyone touch her, though she knew she could really rake in the money if she did.

With the memories still fanning through her mind, Andrea closed her purse and unbuttoned her blouse. Pulling back the cloth she revealed her burgeoning breasts, uncomfortably held within the D cup brassiere. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The afternoon milk-fest at the strip club had minimized her bust temporarily, but she was still a little too big for that size.

A few days later, Andrea was again in the bathroom, blouse unbuttoned, gazing at her breasts in the mirror. She still hadn't told Joey about her new occupation. She had, however, bought a few new bras. The E-cup she was sporting hadn't even been washed yet, and it was already too small. As a result of the vigorous milking she was giving herself at the club, her bountiful breasts increased their supply to match. Soon she would have the largest breasts out of all the girls at the club - enhanced or otherwise.

Though Andrea loved putting on the show, and she loved seeing the men with their open mouths, she longed for a more personal attention. She left the blouse unbuttoned, and wandered out to the couch to smother Joey with her breasts.

Although Joey didn't know about her stripping, he did know how to handle Andrea's breasts. After some brief kissing, Andrea couldn't wait anymore, and pushed one enormous breast into Joey's face. "Please," Andrea whispered. He did just that.

Joey could tell her breasts were still getting bigger. She wouldn't tell him, but Joey knew she was milking more and more. He was worried about her, as he couldn't remember the last time she had a modeling job, or even an audition. He knew that she got some money for the milk she donated, but she couldn't be making enough to pay her bills. "Probably not," he thought as he looked at Andrea's monumental mammaries.

The next day in the club, Andrea crossed a new line. She couldn't remember how she had gotten to that point, but she had finally allowed another man to suckle on her breasts. It wasn't about the money. Andrea needed to have her breasts suckled. She had heard about men 'thinking with their dicks', and now she understood. Her breasts were affecting her thinking. She took a customer up to the VIP area, knowing full well that touching was 'allowed'. Blessed relief she felt, as the stranger drew the mother's milk from her breasts. She was so enraptured by the feeling that didn't notice when the three songs the man had paid for had ended. Eventually, she came to her senses somewhat, and pulled away from the stranger. The man began to produce more money, but Andrea was too shocked by what she had done to continue.

Andrea hastily grabbed her outfit, and mumbled something about being on break. She hurried away, her massive breasts still leaking milk as she all but ran to the dressing room. Gathering her runaway thoughts, Andrea realized she hadn't allowed the man to breastfeed -- she desperately needed him to. Something within her had changed, and her incredible milk-filled breasts were only the outward sign of the new Andrea.

Joey hadn't seen Andrea in a couple of days, but he was surprised by the marked increase in the size of Andrea's breasts. It was obvious when she opened the door that, although she had been really big last time he saw her, she was now gigantic.

Joey stood speechless as he took in the visage of Andrea's widespread development. He could see that Andrea could no longer close her jacket around her massive display of mother's milk. Thanks to that, and the stressed fabric of her T-shirt, it was obvious that she no longer fit into any of her bras. "Hi Joey," Andrea said in a nervous stutter, "I was just heading out to...to the hospital".

"To donate milk?" he replied, knowing that Andrea was somehow lying to him.

"I've been giving more and more lately," Andrea explained, fumbling for her next words, trying to dispel the awkward tension, "a lot more".

"I can see that," Joey deadpanned, his stomach sinking. Andrea's nervous demeanor had him on his guard. He didn't know if the conversation was leading anywhere near the truth, but he was sure that if it did, he probably wouldn't like it. "Maybe I should leave?" he offered.

"No, no," Andrea quickly interjected, seeing the opportunity to come clean about her life. She also hoped Joey would be willing take the milk from her breasts. She stepped aside and drew Joey back into the apartment, untucking her shirt along the way.

Joey had entered into Andrea's apartment, assuming that he would finally have a meaningful talk with Andrea about where her life was going. He closed the door, and turned to find Andrea was removing her shirt, revealing her mountainous, milky mammaries. He was stunned by the gesture, and dumbfounded by the increase in mass of Andrea's once petite bosom. While Andrea wrestled with her shirt, Joey stared back at her reddened nipples, each capping a hefty blue-veined sphere of womanly flesh.

Once Andrea emerged from the fabric, she raised her right breast towards Joey, who still stood speechless. "Andrea, what the hell are you doing?" Joey protested, backing up a step. "This isn't why I came here."

"I thought you liked my breasts," Andrea said, sounding hurt.

"I do, but..." Joey stammered, "there used to be more to you - more to us - than just your breasts. What is going on?" he pleaded. "Ever since you started giving milk, it seems like your whole life is revolving around your breasts."

Andrea told him everything, from the first nights dancing at the club, to the private breastfeeding sessions in the VIP lounge. Angry, hurt and confused, Joey pulled himself away from Andrea's embrace and her monstrous mammaries, intending never to return.

A few weeks had passed, and Joey found himself missing Andrea more and more. He realized that maybe he had walked out on her when she had really needed him. He decided he should go and see Andrea.

Joey arrived at Andrea's apartment, caught his breath, and knocked on the door. The door opened, and there stood Andrea, clad only in a bathrobe. Her breasts, once small and pert, and for a short time voluptuous and full, now overwhelmed Andrea's lissome frame. They hung to her waist, yet remained full and meaty. The V of the bathrobe framed the longest expanse of cleavage that Joey had ever seen.

After he was finished absorbing the outlandish visage before him, his attention turned to the small group of men lounging around Andrea's living room. Andrea followed his eyes, and spoke first.

"Joey," Andrea began, "this is my afternoon group," she said as she gestured to the handful of people seated about the apartment. "This is my life now. I live to give milk," she explained. She opened her robe, and the dimensions that Andrea's breasts had attained astounded Joey. In the few weeks since he had last seen her, Andrea's breasts had more than doubled in size. Joey couldn't imagine how much milk she had produced in that time. Both of her breasts were swollen beyond the size of a gallon jug, and they swayed heavily on her otherwise tiny figure. "I don't dance anymore, since I've found so many who can appreciate me...who desire me for...for what I am. If you can accept this, I would love to have you back in my life". She lifted one mammoth mammary with both hands, and milk began to dribble out of the nipple.

Joey leaned forward and began to drink.