I’m thirty-seven and have no kids of my own. I don’t really want any. Never have, despite having lovely parents and a good childhood. Perhaps I’m just selfish, but I enjoy my independence and lifestyle. My boyfriend has three boys of high school to college age, and it definitely limits our time together. But I love that aspect of him and have a ton of respect for all parents and what they do.

That said, I do fantasize about being pregnant. I think pregnant women are beautiful and sexy and that breastfeeding is tantalizing. I’ve been lucky enough to be with a couple of pregnant women sexually, and it was tremendous.

I was recently on a long-distance flight returning from a work trip. The plane configuration was such that there were two seats, then an aisle, then several seats, then another aisle, and another two seats. I was seated with a woman about my age in a pretty green dress that had some nice cleavage. I was more casual in a white tank top, no bra, a cropped jean jacket, and black leggings.

I was certainly glancing when I could at her large soft breasts held tight in the dress, and her complimentary red hair falling over her shoulders. She had a slightly thicker body than me, but was very curvy and attractive.

About halfway through the flight, the attendants had completed their service and dimmed the cabin lights for the duration of our travel. It was then that my seat partner pulled out a little bag and began to extract the various parts of a breast pump system.

It was one of the “wearable” styles – with large cups that envelop the breast completely, thus removing the need to hold a bottle and little suction cup the whole time.

I watched in fascination as she pulled her bodice away from her body and slipped the cups in, much like someone would a “falsie.” The dress must have had built-in support because I got a clear view of each breast as she did this with no bra visible.

Her skin was beautiful and lightly freckled with large, blush-pink areolas. She connected the tubes and held a little controller and then all I heard was a little whirring as it began to work.

She noticed me watching and tipped her head toward me, “Do you have kids?” I was a little startled at realizing that she knew I was looking, but managed, “No, not of my own. Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s OK,” she said, “I get it. My body is doing a whole thing that your body isn’t despite having the same parts.” We both laughed a little and the ice was broken. We introduced ourselves, and I learned she was on her second child and had been doing this routine for a while.

“I’ve always wondered what it would feel like,” I admitted. “I never really wanted kids, but I do think the whole process is very.”

“Sensual?” she finished my sentence. “Yes,” I answered. She leaned in a little, and I could see down her dress at the white milk that was starting to pool in the cups, “The thing no one tells you…” she began in a slight whisper, “is that breastfeeding makes you really horny!” she giggled. I laughed like someone who hadn’t thought and fantasized about that a million times.

Trying to bait her, I said, “I’ve always wondered what it felt like.” I let it linger in the air and moved my head to look forward. Suddenly, her hand was on mine, which was resting on my thigh. “Would you like to try it?” she asked.

I’m not even sure if I can blush with all I’ve done, but I think I did. “Seriously? I mean, there’s no way I can make milk,” I said.

“No, of course not, but at least you can kind of feel what it's like. Maybe see if it has the same effect on you?” and she smiled in a way that had my pussy soaked in an instant.

Before I could agree, she had turned off the pump and was carefully removing the cup from the breast closest to me. “Pull down your top,” she said nonchalantly, like there wasn’t a dozing businessman just across the aisle from me, let alone 200 other people on this plane.

I shrugged my jacket off my shoulder and tugged my tank down to reveal my bare breasts. She reached over and cupped under my breast, lifting it slightly and aligning it over my nipple. “Hold it there.”

As I held the clear plastic cup, I could feel the warmth from the shallow pool of milk in the bottom of it. “Ready?” she asked. I nodded and she hit the button and the cup distended my breast into the nipple tube and proceeded to rhythmically pulse on my breast.

“Oh my god!” I said a little too loud. She laughed. It felt amazing. It looked weird like my healthy D-cup was being stretched through a tiny hole, but that was also exciting. I’d never seen my body in that way.

I closed my eyes as my breath quickened with arousal. She spoke gently to me, “That’s it…let it go” My hand shot inside my leggings. Pure instinct. I didn’t care now.

I tipped my head back as two fingers curled into my wet cunt and came back out to circle my clit quickly. I whispered in the air “ohhh myy  goddd….oh myyy goddddd….” All she said was, “Do it.”

With that, I orgasmed - trying hard to stifle my sounds and abrupt movements. I climax hard, and I’m used to screaming and cursing and convulsing openly. It was hard to hide.

As I came down, she shut off the pump and gently removed the cup. My breast was red and hanging out still. “How was that?” she asked.

I looked over with wide eyes, panting, “Amazing!” She smiled and said, “Good. My turn. But first, I’d love to taste your fingers and I’ll trade you a special treat.”

I nodded and pulled my glistening fingers from my leggings and put them in her mouth. She sucked them clean like they were a small cock. Her smile said, “Mmm,” and then she dropped the shoulder of her dress so the breast that had given up the pump cup to me was bare. “Time for your treat.”

She lifted her breast and squeezed the nipple hard until droplets of white appeared. She nodded quietly, and I lowered my head and took her rosy scrunched nipple in my mouth. As I suckled, she milked her breast into my mouth. I couldn’t get enough.

I was afraid I’d be too loud as I slurped and swallowed the sweet warm milk, but I didn’t care. She purred quietly and I felt her hand slide around my body then down to between her own legs under her dress. I swallowed and swallowed the seemingly endless supply of mother’s milk.

Her body started to quiver and now I grasped her breast, milking it into my mouth. Putting what felt like undo pressure on her tit, but she shook harder until it was clear she was orgasming. Her back arched and I struggled to keep my hold on her slick flesh.

As she relaxed, I withdrew my mouth. Her nipple still dribbling milk. She returned the cup to her breast as I sat up and tucked my bare tit away and wiped my chin. A few minutes later, she carefully unlatched the cups. “Have a water bottle?” she asked. I nodded and pulled my Yeti from my bag. It was empty since I went through security. She tipped the cup into it and drained it into my water bottle. “For later,” she smiled.

She put her equipment away and clasped my hand and we remained that way for the remainder of the flight. Before tipping my seat back for a nap, I looked over to the businessman across the aisle and he waved with a web of semen across his fingers. He gave me a sticky thumbs-up and I dozed off until the rumble of landing awoke me.