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Subject: FINAL REPOST: Lactogenesis LII 

LACTOGENESIS LII:  THE FRIENDLY COMPETITION

	Atop the fifth table was a stunningly lovely Thai girl, probably
just barely of legal age, although with this crowd it was difficult for
Christine to tell what was legal and what (or who) wasn't.  She was in the
final stages of an exotic dance, removing a sequine-studded G-string to
reveal a pussy adorned with a V-shaped strip of painstakingly shaved pubic
hair.  Chris was amazed at the size and fleshiness of the girl's labia,
the inner lips of which were large enough to dangle down from her crotch
and sway slightly as she moved.  Small, brightly colored baubles hung from
them by tiny clamps; the labia themselves were not pierced.  Intrigued,
Chris moved closer.
	The girl completed her dance to the appreciative applause of the
group that surrounded the circular table.  Chris was surprised at how much
more quiet and reserved this group was from the hooting, hollering hordes
that surrounded the other tables.  The girl smiled and sat, her heels
close in to her butt and her knees spread wide.  Chris almost gasped at
the sight which was revealed by this action.  The girl's cunt was, in a
word, cavernous.  Nestled between a pair of perfect thighs was a ragged,
gaping hole which looked for all the world like a train tunnel surrounded
by raw meat.  As Chris watched, the girl contracted her vaginal muscles. 
To Chris's amazement, the huge void between the girl's legs started to
shrink.  The dangling inner labia appeared to withdraw behind the outer
lips, which then closed over a ruby-red clit that was pulled back under
its hood like a turtle's head under its shell.  When the contraction was
over the girl's pussy actually looked like it might be slightly smaller
than average.
	Chris had never seen that kind of muscular control.  She prided
herself on the strength of her own pubococcygeus muscle, which she used to
control the force and velocity of her ejaculations and clamp down hard on
the cocks of her lovers, but she certainly couldn't control the size of
her vaginal opening to the inordinate degree this young lady had just
demonstrated.  Her intrigue began to turn into arousal; her animal side
knew that somehow, some way, she had to be part of what was going on at
this table.  Her rationale side, now just a distant flicker of its normal
self, wondered why this girl, out of all the unusual sexual activity
happening around her, should "pull her trigger", so to speak.  Was it the
heightened sexual tension that was resulting from her almost painfully
full breasts?  That hardly seemed likely.  How many dozens of times over
the past year and a half had she experienced this same sensation of
fullness without succumbing to it, ripping her clothes off, and fucking
and spraying down the first man (or woman, for that matter) she saw?  Why
should it be any different now?  She searched for the signs of residual
Valium in her bloodstream and found none.  The drug Jonah (whom she still
hadn't seen since they arrived) slipped her had worn off unnoticed some
time before.  Perhaps it was all the pheromones in the air -- indeed,
among the smells of tobacco and cannabis, beer and food, the odor of raw
sex hung heavy in the atmosphere.
	Chris became vaguely aware of fingertips caressing her nipples
into bullet-hard erections and realized they were her own.  Her
windbreaker was in a pile on the floor, leaving her naked from the waist
up.  She hadn't remembered removing it.  The girl on the table was now
staring directly at Chris, fondling herself and getting very wet.  The
girl shifted her gaze to a man standing near her.  "Thirsty," she said,
and pointed to an untouched bottle of beer in the man's hand.  He smiled
and handed it to her.  Rather than placing it to her lips and drinking,
however, the girl rocked back on her tailbone, folded her legs beneath
her, and deftly inserted the beer bottle into her cunt until only the
bottom half protruded.  The crowd gasped; Chris's eyes went wide.  The
girl then let go of the bottle, holding it in place with her powerful
muscles, and arched her hips upward.  The crowd watched in silent
amazement as the beer inside the bottle disappeared just as if someone
were chugging it.  Within seconds the bottle was empty.  The girl removed
it; her pussy lips closed tightly behind it, keeping a full twelve ounces
of beer inside.  She then motioned to a woman standing in the crowd who
was dressed in red satin outfit embroidered in the Oriental fashion.  Her
companion, no doubt, Chris figured.  From seemingly nowhere the woman
produced three hard-boiled eggs, which the girl promptly inserted, one by
one, into her pussy.  Not a drop of beer was spilled; the eggs almost
looked like they were being sucked up into the girl's vagina.  Chris, with
the last shred of her rational side that remained, was thinking that this
must be one of those Bangkok girls she'd heard of, those girls that can
open beer bottles, smoke cigarettes, or carry razor blades with their
talented twats.  Her animal side, far and away the most prominent now,
wanted to leap up on the table and add a few ounces of breast milk to the
mixture within this girl's apparently bottomless cunt.  It was just
waiting for the right opportunity...
	The girl closed her eyes and with one index finger teased open the
uppermost portion of her lower lips, exposing a glistening red clit which
she began to massage gently.  Her hips began moving to some unheard
rhythm, rolling up and down like swells on the ocean.  One could almost
hear everything inside her sloshing about.  The woman in the red satin
motioned to the people standing directly in front of the girl, warning
them that they might want to stand aside.  Foam began to appear around the
girl's pussy lips.  Suddenly the muscles in the girl's abdomen tensed, and
one of the eggs shot out of her cunt and rolled off the edge of the table.
 She arched her hips higher and fired the second one in a long graceful
arc where it struck a fellow standing at another table in the back of the
head.  Laughter erupted as he turned to try to find the source of the
missile.  The girl then lay flat on the table and brought her legs up near
her head so that her genitals were directed upward.  She tensed, and with
a loud whoosh the third egg was propelled straight up at the top of a
column of froth as she ejected the beer from her vagina in a single blast.
 One young gentleman did not get out of the way fast enough and received
the falling column full in the chest, soaking him to the skin.  More
laughter and another round of applause followed.  The girl sat up and
bowed her head in acknowledgement.
	"Hell, I can squirt like that -- from three places -- and I don't
need any beer to do it," Chris muttered, feeling a little jealous of this
girl's talents and the attention she was receiving.  Here Chris was
standing with clearly the firmest, most shapely pair of breasts and
nipples in the room fully exposed, and no one was giving her a second
look.  Since The Accident Chris had grown used to being the sexual center
of attention whenever she unleashed her formidable mammaries, but here
such exhibitionism was commonplace.
	She hadn't intended for her comment to be heard, but several
people standing in her immediate vicinity turned to look at her.  The girl
on the table was once again staring as well.  I must have shouted it,
Chris thought.
	"Sounds like a challenge to me," one of the men said.
	"I'd certainly like to see that," a female voice piped up.
	"How's about it, sweetheart?" came another voice.
	The girl now had a look of defiance in her eyes.  "No need beer,"
she said challengingly.
	The woman in red satin made her way around the table to stand in
front of Chris.  "What about a little friendly competition?  Best squirter
wins?"  She turned to the people around the table, rubbing thumb and
forefingers together.  "Shall we make it interesting?"  Within seconds a
pile of bills, mixed American and Jamaican money, appeared on the
tabletop.  The girl scooted over on the table and patted the area next to
her, indicating that Chris should join her.
	Chris's rational side succumbed totally at this invitation.  She
was running on full animal instinct now, just as she had at the Decade
Eight wet T-shirt contest all those months ago.  In seconds Chris was
completely nude, sitting next to the Thai girl, her bald beaver already
drooling in anticipation.  Chris brought her hands to her mouth, wet her
fingers, and resumed caressing her nipples.  The coolness from the
evaporating moisture caused her erections to reach near record
proportions.  It was all she could do to keep milk from spurting out
prematurely.
	The two women began masturbating, each soon becoming oblivious to
the other and the crowd around them.  Chris couldn't help cooing and
moaning as her fingers found those touch points that through many hours of
self pleasuring she knew would bring her off quickly but deeply.  Her
thumb ran circles around her clit as two fingers explored the ventral wall
of her vagina, searching for the bump of swollen tissue that marked her
G-spot.  The green tablecloth developed a dark stain under Chris's ass as
she got wetter and wetter.  She could feel milk beginning to run down the
sides of her breasts and along her rib cage as she leaned back to get
better penetration with her fingers.  She dimly heard some exclamations as
the crowd saw this, and distantly felt fingers scoop up the rivulets of
milk as they coursed along her skin, presumably to taste it.
	Chris could feel the energy of the crowd surround and permeate her
as she built toward orgasm.  She felt them silently urging her on; she
felt as if they were with her and not her competitor.  She heard the girl
hissing as she too approached orgasm, so she purposely began moaning
louder to drown her out.  Her breasts felt hot, stretched, as if they
would pop.  The milk sang in her breasts, churning inexorably toward the
gates of her nipples, with the irresistability of a tidal wave.  With a
loud yell she opened those gates, spouting geysers of milk upward and
outward as a river of molten desire burst from her pussy just as Chris
contracted her muscles, heightening her orgasm and tightening the stream
of emerging pussy juice into a high-velocity blast that caught a man who
had purposely placed himself in harm's way full on his extended tongue. 
He sputtered slightly, not having expected that much volume, but smiled
and said in a loud voice, "Well, it sure ain't piss!"
	Chris didn't hear him.  She collapsed back onto the tabletop, her
hands now frantically milking her breasts, sending jets of milk that
rivaled Old Faithful in their height and volume into the air as she
continued coming.  Juice dribbled from her trembling pussy as she slowly
began to resolve from the pinnacle of her orgasm, one of her better ones
in a long time.
	Just as her milk began to slow to a trickle, the girl next to her
reached her zenith.  With a keening banshee wail she came, firing a thin,
ropelike stream of fluid from her pussy, which had once again reached
mammoth proportions as she slammed almost her entire fist into it.  The
same man who had caught Chris's ejaculate had his face down near the
girl's cunt now as well, but he drew back quickly just in time to be
missed by her stream.  "Hey!" he yelled.  "That came out her pee hole! 
She's just pissin'!"  Indeed, with the girl's pussy spread so wide, it was
easy to tell that her ejaculate had a golden tint -- clearly urine.
	The man who had made the initial suggestion of the challenge took
one of Chris's now limp, wet hands from her heaving breast and thrust it
into the air.  "I believe we have a winner!" he exclaimed, and a third
round of applause arose.  Chris sat up slowly, smiled her appreciation,
and without another word dropped down onto the floor where she quickly put
her slacks and windbreaker back on.  As she collected the wad of bills
from the tabletop (I wonder how much is here, she wondered), she saw that
the crowd was already scattering, off to find the next new thrill.  Left
behind was the Thai girl, who was leaning against the woman in red satin,
her face showing close to tears, her lower lip trembling.  The woman was
staring at Chris with a look that could freeze helium.  As Chris watched,
she motioned two large men over to her and began whispering into their
ears, occasionally glancing back over at Chris with a deep scowl.
	Chris, her wits fully about her again, began looking about for
Jonah or Edward.  Something told her it was time to leave the party, and
the sooner the better.

<<to be continued>>