Milking Aunt Julie

Many thanks to Kivrin00 for editing this story.

My story took place a couple of decades ago, in the summer of 1991, to be exact. I had just celebrated my 18th birthday before the summer recess, just around when Aunt Julie gave birth to her first baby. Aunt Julie is my mother’s youngest sister, and she was in her very early twenties when she gave birth. That made me only eight or nine years younger than her. In fact, before she married Uncle Tom, she occasionally played Nintendo with me whenever she visited my mom and sat for me several times when I was much younger. I always thought that she was very cool since we had the same interests in things like music and movies, and she always treated me as someone in her age group, not as her nephew.

After she married, they bought a house a couple of blocks down the street. Aunt Julie always said she felt secure having us nearby, prompting them to shop for a home near our neighborhood. Besides being my favorite Aunt, Aunt Julie was petite and beautiful with brown hair and hazel eyes; a very pale ivory-like complexion highlighted her face. To top it off, she had good-sized breasts with pointed nipples that stood out and bounced when she walked, which I loved eyeing even when I was younger, not to mention her lovely smile, which always fared to captivate me.

A few weeks after Aunt Julie gave birth to Thomas Jr., Uncle Tom had to return to work after exhausting his vacation times. Two days later, Aunt Julie fell in the bathtub, spraining her ankle severely and bruising her right shoulder, adding another burden. Uncle Tom managed to take a few more days off from work to attend to Aunt Julie, but when they couldn’t find someone reasonable and reliable to assist Aunt Julie and Thomas Jr., they asked if I could spend the day with her for $20.00 a day. My parents also approved since they didn’t like the idea of a nerd like me, who didn’t have many friends, spending the entire day at home alone, playing video games. My calculations showed that I could buy a game or two each month with the money and still save a few dollars for the future car that I was planning to purchase to commute to the state university nearby.

Typically, I rode my bicycle with my Nintendo player to Aunt Julie’s place and hung around till Uncle Tom came home. Other than the little things Aunt Julie asked me to do, the only significant tasks I had to do were picking up little Thomas and handing him to her to feed him or placing him on the changing table for a diaper change. My job was easy, even though boys my age may find it humiliating, but $20.00 a day was too much for me to give up. Besides, I had many opportunities to glimpse Aunt Julie’s full breasts when she fed the baby, and it was equally thrilling to see her hop around the house with the aid of her crutches, wearing loose dresses that left little for the imagination.

Around the same time, little Thomas developed frequent diarrhea and vomiting soon after the feeding time. When the pediatrician suspected Thomas couldn’t digest his mother’s milk, The pediatrician advised her to switch to a baby formula that cured Thomas’s digestive problems.

One day, I played video games in the living room after little Thomas had slept. I don’t remember seeing Aunt Julie going past me to the kitchen, but when I became thirsty, I grabbed a can of pop from the refrigerator. As I approached the doorway, I spotted her standing by the kitchen sink, with her back to me. From the first look, I noticed something was odd, and it took me another moment to see her breasts out in the open while leaning against the sink. I froze momentarily, not being able to figure out what to do. For some reason, I thought Aunt Julie was playing with her tits and therefore felt weird to continue into the kitchen. I took another peek at Aunt Julie’s breasts, partly visible from where I stood and tried to drag my heavy feet out of the kitchen. As I turned, Aunt Julie became aware of my presence and asked;

“Do you need something, Chris?”

“Hmm… I came to get something to drink,” I said nervously.

“Don’t mind me, Chris, go ahead,” she said without interrupting what she was doing. I quickly opened the fridge, grabbed a can of pop, and turned to go back when she spoke again.

“I am very sore here; that’s why I have to do this” This time, she turned her face. “I don’t know why I am telling you this. I know you won’t understand” I was unsure of what I had just heard from Aunt Julie, so I asked;

“Are you hurt?”

She partly turned and smiled. “It is painful, yes.”

To be polite, I asked if there was something I could do to help, and she didn’t answer right away, but moments later, she said there wasn’t. I waited, hoping to get a better glimpse at her naked breasts, just in case she turned, but that didn’t happen.

The very next day, when I saw Aunt Julie hopping on her crutches to the kitchen, I quickly realized that I might get a chance to see her milking herself, perhaps a better view of her breasts, too. My heart thumped in excitement as I waited, allowing her time to get started, and then slowly tip-toed and waited by the doorway. Sure enough, Aunt Julie was against the counter facing the sink. By the look of her gown, she had the front opened. Aunt Julie had a bath towel in hand, which she soaked, squeezed, and then applied over her chest, but unaware of me standing by the doorway, she made no attempts to turn. Realizing that I had to do something to get her attention so that she may turn, giving me a view of her breasts, I took a few steps back and walked with heavy steps to alert her that I was entering the kitchen.

This time she partly turned her body towards me, leaning her back against the counter for support. She tried to hold the front of her gown closed but failed to do so with one good hand, giving me my first eye of her full twin peaks. I still vividly remember seeing her large, delicious-looking breasts. Her aureoles were pink, big, and swollen, with her nipples hard and pointed straight out. I was astonished and electrified, and my dick became hard instantly. My mouth must have dropped to my chest while my eyes widened to the size of tennis balls. Then she smiled and explained her dilemma.

“I came to get a pop. I managed to say, never taking my eyes off her breasts. Aunt Julie didn’t say anything. I didn’t approach the fridge, either; I just stared at her. I only opened my mouth when I realized I didn’t want to be obvious, on top of being nervous about my impishness.

I am still surprised how quickly I got a word or two off my mouth, but I asked her, “Are you in pain or hurt? Can I help?”

“No, I am not hurt, Chris, but since Thomas is allergic to my milk, I have to empty milk from my breasts a couple of times a day, or they become very sore. Uncle Tom got me that thing, but I can’t get the darn thing to work right. The bathroom sink is too low, so I am draining the milk here in the kitchen.” She said, pointing to a weird-looking thing with a suction bulb attached to a suction cup.

“Do you need any help?” I questioned, thinking that was the right thing to do. But I stared, unable to take my eyes off her splendid mounds that I could only dream of seeing a few minutes ago. Aunt Julie laughed and said, “If I let you help, I will get an earful from everyone, including your parents.”

Disappointed with her answer, I mumbled, “Okay,” and turned again towards the living room. Before I could take two steps forward, she spoke again.

“Hey Chris, maybe you can help, but you can’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t even ask you if I can do this myself” I was overjoyed. I zoomed to her aid.

“Now remember, if anyone finds out, I must kill you. I am only asking for your help because my breasts are sore, and I can’t empty milk from my left breast with this bad shoulder.” She paused for a moment while I patiently waited for instructions. “See if you can figure out how that darn suction thing works.”

I grabbed the device then Aunt Julie had me place the suction cup on her left breast. Keeping one hand on the suction cup, I squeeze the suction bulb several times, impatiently wanting to see her milk spraying into the attached small plastic jar, but only a few drops come out.

“That’s the problem. This darn thing is no good!” Aunt Julie complained. Then she held and squeezed her right breast with her fingers, amazingly enough, that produced a good amount of milk.

“If you are up to it, you can squeeze the other side like I did. But no telling,” Aunt Julie chuckled, but I saw she was uncomfortable with the pain and having to ask me for help written all over her face.

However, I didn’t need further directions. I enthusiastically accepted her request and squeezed her left nipple, as she showed, between my thumb and the index finger. Aunt Julie moaned in relief as my squeezes made her milk run off her nipple. I was excited beyond belief. The more I squeezed her nipple, the more milk flowed. I was thrilled as Aunt Julie moaned. I changed my position to have better control, and by doing so, without even realizing it, I brushed my crotch around her hips, moving partly behind her, gently pressing myself onto her rear. I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but I didn’t bother to move since I had better leverage to empty the milk from her breast from that angle. The effect that position had on me was magical. Looking over Aunt Julie’s shoulder, I admired her full breasts that my hand was fortunate enough to squeeze, and the effect ran in every vein in my body, giving me a strange feeling that was hard to describe but to say, my cock began to get rigid in no time.

I reluctantly stopped milking Aunt Julie when she asked me to stop – turned before she had a chance to notice my bulge and ran to the bathroom, where I only had to whack my cock, a few times before shooting a massive load into bathroom tissues.

The rest of the day was uneventful, but the following day when I saw Aunt Julie hopping on her crutches toward the kitchen, my cock twitched immediately. My desire to see and squeeze her breasts again was so enormous that I asked if she needed help. She went past me without asking for my assistance as I had hoped.