CHAPTER FORTY-ONE:  

THE VOYEUR, PART TWO

	Not more than a minute later the two women entered 
the pool enclosure.  "Oh, good," Connor heard the one 
named Sherri say.  She hung the sign on the gate, closed 
it, took a padlock out of the small bag she had with 
her, and used it to lock the gate.  They walked over to 
two lounge chairs (good, they picked two that were 
directly in his line of sight), put down their gear, and 
doffed their robes.  He had to keep from gasping aloud 
when they did.  Both women were wearing the tiniest 
bikinis imaginable.  Sherri's covered more on top, but 
that wasn't saying much; his dream girl's top was little 
more than two tiny strips of cloth just wide enough in 
front to cover her nipples.  Fully eighty percent of her 
glorious bosom was exposed.  Connor gently, silently 
shifted position so that his growing erection wouldn't 
get caught at an uncomfortable angle.
	He watched them stretch out on the chairs, bottles 
of sunscreen in their hands.  "Mmmm, isn't this sun 
wonderful?  First of the season," said Sherri.
	"Are you sure nobody can get in here?" asked his 
dream girl.
	"Positive.  I've done this a lot.  I'm kind of 
surprised that our neighbors haven't complained more 
about the pool being down for repairs."
	"And nobody can see us, right?"
	"Chris, will you relax?  I'm an old hand at this."
	Chris!  Her name is Chris!  Somehow just finally 
knowing her name made Connor feel that much more excited 
to be here watching her.
	He watched, transfixed, as the two women removed 
their tops.  His breath caught in his throat as he saw 
the full landscape of Chris's splendorous body come into 
view.  Perfect.  Absolutely goddamned perfect.  I can 
die now, he thought.  He couldn't stand it any more -- 
he slowly unzipped his fly and liberated his hard-on, 
which he started stroking absently.
	"Well, if you're sure," Chris said, and arching 
her back, slid off the almost non-existent bikini bottom 
as well, revealing a completely hairless snatch.  He 
stopped stroking for fear of coming right there.  He had 
never seen a bald beaver before.  Chris lay back, 
slightly spreading her legs to let the sun in, and 
giving him a perfect view of her naked pussy.  Her 
impossibly firm breasts rose upward as she lay back, 
almost completely obscuring her head from Connor's 
viewpoint.  The sight was enough to cause a pleasant 
ache to begin in his balls.
	He watched as the women applied sunscreen to 
themselves, following their fingers as they rubbed the 
lotion into their exposed skin, observing how the flesh 
of their breasts responded to their touch.  As Chris 
moved her hand across a nipple, he watched it bend 
beneath it and then snap back upright after it passed.  
That was too much -- with a barely controlled jerk he 
spurted his load into a handkerchief, biting his lip to 
keep from making a sound.  Once he recovered, he 
strained to listen to their conversation, which up to 
now he had ignored.
	Sherri had been talking, and Chris had been 
laughing.  Connor was soon ready to come again from what 
the laughing was doing to those incredible boobs of 
hers.  There was a short silence, then Sherri spoke 
again.
	"I've been meaning to ask you something."
	"Shoot," said Chris.
	"Funny you should pick that particular word."
	"Why?"
	"Well, I'm curious about a particular talent of 
yours."
	"Which one would that be?  I've got a million of 
'em," said Chris with a smile.
	"I've noticed that you can apparently squirt your 
milk whenever you want, not just when you're excited or 
engorged.  True?"
	"True.  However did you come to know this?" Chris 
sounded surprised.
	"We used to spend a lot of time together, or have 
you forgotten?"
	Chris blushed.  It made her wine-colored nipples 
an even darker red.  She reached across and stroked the 
back of Sherri's hand.  "Of course not.  How could I?"
	Sherri paused, then asked, "Can you teach me how 
to do that?"
	Chris did a double take.  "I'm not sure.  Why?"
	A devilish smile crossed Sherri's lips.  "This guy 
I'm with right now?  He likes me to tickle him while I'm 
on top.  He's got chest hair like a fucking bearskin 
rug.  I love to run my hands through it while I'm 
fucking him.  Trouble is, he also likes me to squirt him 
while I'm riding him.  Can't be squeezing my boobies and 
doing all that other stuff at the same time.  I need to 
have my hands free."
	Chris laughed again.  (Oh God, stop doing that, he 
said to himself.  You're killing me.)  "I see your 
point."
	"How do you do it?"
	Chris lay back on the chair.  "Well, I don't 
really think too much about how I do it.  It's just part 
of the way I control my lactation."
	Sherri shook her head slowly.  "I'd almost give 
one tit to know how to do that.  Many is the time I've 
embarrassed myself in a public place when my milk let 
down unexpectedly.  I have to take a jacket with me even 
in hot weather to cover up with!"
	Chris smiled sympathetically.  "Well, I sort of 
just concentrate on relaxing all the muscles in my upper 
body.  You know, like what they have you do in those 
stress reduction tapes?  I think of running water, 
floating in a pool, that kind of thing.  Pretty soon I 
feel the reflex kick in, and the rest is automatic.  To 
stop, I think of the desert, water soaking into sand, 
muscles contracting, flowers closing up at night.  Works 
every time.  Here, watch."
	Connor felt his eyes begin to sting, and realized 
he'd been staring for some time.  He blinked away the 
tears that started to form so that they wouldn't blur 
his view of what was to come.
	He saw Chris settle deep into her chair, watched 
the muscles in her neck and shoulders relax.  He saw her 
nipples lengthen and thicken and become moist.  He saw a 
wave ripple across the muscles of her stomach, and 
suddenly her breasts erupted in twin geysers of milk, 
launching branching streams of white high into the air.  
The fountain continued for several seconds before 
abating to a thin trickle.  She hadn't even touched 
herself.
	With a muffled grunt, his whole body tensed and he 
ejaculated a few drops of a second load into his sticky 
handkerchief.  He felt a charley horse form in his leg 
and pinched his eyes tightly shut against the pain.
	"Fan-fucking-tastic," he heard Sherri say.  Amen, 
sister.  "Let me try."  When he heard that, he forced 
his eyes open again.
	He saw Sherri go through the same relaxation 
process as Chris.  For a long time nothing happened, 
then, as he stared, he saw dribbles of milk emerge from 
Sherri's fat nipples and run down her pendulous hooters.  
Chris sat up and applauded.  Amazingly, Connor felt his 
dick stir once more.  That had never happened before.
	"Not bad, not bad," Chris said.  "We'll work on 
your form later."  They both laughed.  He watched Chris 
get up and kneel down next to her friend's chair.  "You 
know, I haven't tasted you in a long time.  I kind of 
miss that.  Do you mind?"
	Sherri raised herself to a sitting position.  
"Please do," she said.  "Otherwise I'll have to go 
inside and pump, and I don't want to waste the rest of 
this marvelous sun."
	Connor couldn't believe what he saw next.  He 
watched Chris lean across Sherri and fasten her lips 
onto one of Sherri's swollen nipples.  He could tell she 
was sucking on her and swallowing as fast as she could.  
Sherri started moaning and reached for her other breast, 
which she started squeezing.  He saw stream after stream 
of milk shoot out of Sherri's breast as she milked 
herself and Chris continued to drink from the other 
breast.
	He felt a third orgasm building.  He couldn't 
believe he had anything left.  As it continued to build, 
he felt his head get light, his vision blurred....
	He passed out.
	With a crash he fell through the bushes to sprawl 
out onto the deck.
	The women screamed and leaped to their feet.  
Hurriedly they threw on their robes and cautiously 
approached his supine form.
	Sherri bent down and peered at him.  "Oh, shit.  
It's only Connor."
	"You know this kid?" Chris asked.
	"Yeah, he lives in the building.  I've caught him 
peeping several times.  I used to think it was cute, but 
now the little shit's gone too far.  Wake up, dickhead," 
Sherri said, kicking water from the pool into his face.
	Sputtering, Connor came to and scrambled to his 
feet.  He started to run for the gate, then stopped, 
realizing he was locked in.
	"All right, you little fuck," Sherri said, 
advancing on him with teeth clenched and hands on hips.  
"This stops now.  I ever catch you slithering around me 
or my friends again, I'll come into your room while 
you're asleep and Bobbitize you.  Don't think I won't do 
it, either.  I ever find out you said anything about 
what you saw here, and I'll make sure your parents find 
out about your sordid little hobbies.  Then I'll 
Bobbitize you.  You savvy?"
	Embarrassed beyond the ability to speak, Connor 
only nodded.
	Sherri unlocked the gate.  "Get the fuck out," she 
hissed.  Connor scurried out like a dog before a rolled-
up newspaper.
	As soon as he was out of earshot, Sherri and Chris 
looked at each other, then fell laughing into each 
others' arms.  When they finally recovered, Sherri said, 
"Well, one thing's for sure -- we'll be in his wet 
dreams for a long time to come!"
	That night, as Chris sat in her milking chair, 
hooked up to her pump, she thought about the young 
Connor pounding his pud with visions of her dancing 
through his puerile little brain.  She realized that in 
some small dark recess of her mind, she'd always wanted 
to be the subject of a young man's masturbatory 
fantasies.  Now she knew that had come to pass.  The 
realization gave her a very satisfying orgasm and filled 
the milk receptacle quickly.