I removed my hand and brought it to my mouth, tasting her milk on my finger.‘It tastes like canned milk,’ I said watching her blush yet again. ‘...nd it’s warm too.’My hand returned to her left breast and I cupped it. It was heavy with milk. I fondled it gently, my thumb grazing the hard nipple. She closed her eyes and her breathing quickened.A gasp escaped her parted lips as another surge of milk erupted from both her breasts. I leant forward and brought my face to her left breast, my tongue. Once she whispered to me that someone had run their hand up her leg in the crowd. I knew this might happen. I asked she wanted to leave? She said no I'm OK. She excused herself to go to the rest room and get us a cold drink. I held our spot up front at the rope. I was bargaining to worry after close to an hour had passed before she came back. I asked if the line was long? She said that isn't the only thing that was. I took me drink and we watched as the first runner came to the finish line, no. More

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