LACTOGENESIS XIV: 

THE OLD FLAME, PART 1 
 
 Christine glanced up from her plate of fettucini carbonara to again 
find Carl Banks's eyes locked on her. Again she smiled in response, and 
again he grinned awkwardly and glanced away. So far everything seemed to 
be working according to plan. Chris had worked hard to choose just the 
right combination of clothing and makeup to allow just the barest hints 
of her heart-stopping physical transformation to show through. She 
wanted Carl to see that some changes had occurred since they'd last seen 
each other, but she also wanted him to be constantly wondering just what 
they were. His poorly concealed stares were telling her she had achieved 
the desired effect. Since arriving at the restaurant, Chris had steered 
the conversation, keeping it trivial, and sprinkling it with enough 
veiled sexual references to keep Carl on edge and wondering whether he 
was going to actually score with the girl he'd left flat almost three 
years ago. Chris wanted to tease him, just enough to give him a hard-on 
all through dinner. She wasn't a cruel person, though. She would jump 
his bones before the night was over, but she was going to make damn sure 
the sex was on her turf, on her terms. 
 The conversation had hit a lull when the food arrived, and Chris 
allowed the silence to stretch out. Finally she leaned forward slightly, 
in a calculated fashion so that her blousy clothing might reveal just a 
bit more of the amazing curves beneath. 
 "Penny," she said with a smile. 
 "Nothing," he said flatly. 
 Chris sipped at her wine. "Come on, Carl, you forget how well we used 
to know each other. How do you think we could be so good together in 
bed? I know something other than computer motherboard sales figures is 
circulating in that handsome head of yours. Out with it." 
 Carl paused, then frankly stated, "Well, I just can't get over how you 
look. To be honest, I was expecting to have to be polite and overlook 
scars, disfigurements, whatever. I'd heard you really got messed up when 
that car hit you. Instead you look just amazing -- better than ever, in 
fact." 
 Chris kept a smile on her face, but was frowning internally. As shallow 
as ever, she thought. Relieved about not having to spend an evening with 
the Elephant Woman, is he? Nice. And what's this "better than ever" 
crap? What was I before, chopped liver? She decided to shift the evening 
up a gear, before she lost interest in this jerk altogether. 
 "That's sweet of you," she lied. "I had a feeling you were undressing 
me with your eyes." She leaned forward even more, deliberately allowing 
her breasts to press against the fabric of her top, finally coming to 
rest upon the tabletop. She said in a low, husky voice, "Why don't we 
get out of here so you can do it with your hands?" 
 Carl's eyebrows shot up, and he had to concentrate to keep from choking 
on his food. Always the smooth operator, however, he didn't miss a beat. 
He immediately signaled for the check, and within minutes the two of 
them were back at Chris's apartment. Chris was a little perturbed at how 
readily he'd wanted to leave. She'd hoped to string him along a while 
longer. He obviously wasn't interested in catching up on the last three 
years -- he just wanted to get laid. She decided that was okay; that's 
all she wanted, too. Why screw things up with a lot of excess emotional 
baggage? 
 Chris tossed her purse on a chair and headed straight for her bedroom. 
"Have a seat," she called over her shoulder. "Bar's still where it's 
always been. Fix yourself a drink. I'll be right back." She heard the 
clink of ice cubes as she closed the door and went around the room 
lighting candles. She shut off the light and quickly stepped out of her 
outfit. No beating around the bush, she'd decided. I'm going for the 
throat... She'd chosen a forest green satin matching bra and panties. 
The bra was just sheer enough for her areolae to be visible; the panties 
were cut high on the hip and were diaphanous enough for it to be obvious 
that her snatch was completely hairless. Her cleavage was deep and 
inviting, her stomach flat and hard. She slipped her heels back on and 
walked into the hallway, where she struck a deliberately seductive pose. 
She said nothing, just waited for the bomb she'd just dropped to hit its 
target. 
 Bulls-eye. Carl's face was the picture of amazement. His eyes flittered 
up and down her body, looking for a place to rest. His drink tilted in 
his hand and sent an ice-cold dribble of scotch and soda into his 
crotch. You could practically see a plume of steam arise as he jumped 
up, wiping at himself with his free hand. Chris suppressed a giggle. 
 "Wow," he sputtered. "Chris, is that really you? I don't remember this 
at all! What did you have done? I thought there was a moratorium on 
implants..." 
 What an asshole, Chris thought. It's a good thing I'm horny or I'd've 
flushed him before we even got out of the restaurant. "It's all me," she 
said instead. "One hundred percent natural. Just a late bloomer, I 
guess." She walked over to him and without warning kissed him hard, 
simultaneously taking the drink from his hand. Time to get him where he 
lives. "Enough talk," she whispered as she mashed her breasts against 
Carl's chest. "Let's fuck." 
 She led the shell-shocked Carl into the bedroom. In their previous 
relationship, Carl had always been the aggressor. Chris's blatant 
seductiveness and the shock of revealing the new body had put her in 
complete control. She turned and unbuttoned his shirt as he fumbled with 
his belt. She yanked his pants and boxers down together, and his cock 
swung free. It looked like it had been hard for a long time, and pre-
come had already wetted the glans. Just as I remembered it, Chris 
thought. Not very long, even a bit below average perhaps, but nearly as 
big around as her wrist. It had filled her quite satisfactorily three 
years ago. How would it feel now? 
 She let her tongue trace a line along the lower surface of Carl's cock, 
starting at the root. When she reached the arrowhead of the glans, she 
slowly wrapped her lips around it. She swallowed him an agonizingly slow 
half-inch at a time. Remembering some tips Sherri had taught her, she 
relaxed her throat and allowed the shaft to skate along her palate. All 
that practice with the bananas had paid off; she was able to completely 
suppress the gag reflex. She took him right to the balls. Carl sucked in 
breath through clenched teeth, and moaned loudly when Chris opened her 
mouth even further and, with his cock firmly ensconced in her throat, 
extended her tongue to lick his scrotum. "Where did you learn to give 
head like that?" he murmured. Chris backed away at the same slow pace, 
then began to move faster, sliding her mouth along Carl's shaft, keeping 
pressure with her tongue. Her fist followed behind, squeezing and 
milking away. She felt him getting even harder. Good, she thought. I 
want to make you beg to come. I want to see the look on your face when I 
cover you with my milk. She stole a glance upward and saw Carl's head 
nodding back and forth. "Oh, man, oh, shit," he was babbling. 
 So far, so good...