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FINAL REPOST: Lactogenesis LVII

LACTOGENESIS LVII:  THE RETURN HOME

	Christine dropped her carry-on onto the pile of luggage that had
gathered just inside the entrance to her apartment, and sighed heavily. 
The floral print dress she was wearing, a few souvenirs, some undeveloped
photos in the camera, and some very unusual memories were now all that
remained of her sojourn to Jamaica.  She was very glad to be home.
	Chris had decided to stay only two more days in Negril -- the
amount of time it took to rearrange her travel schedule -- following her
less-than-optimal experiences with Jonah Ballwin's party, the cab ride
back to Negril, and getting lost in the jungle.  She'd decided to convert
her return cruise ticket into airfare and cut short her stay at the hotel
for fear Jonah or Edward, or worse, the Woman in Red Satin or one of her
goons, would come knocking at her door.  The carefree vacation she'd
planned had turned into anything but.  The stress of her adventures had
played havoc with her endocrine system, to the extent that she was having
less and less success controlling her lactation.  At one point during the
flight back, a baby in the row ahead of her started to cry, and instantly
she'd found her blouse clinging to her, wet through with breast milk. 
She'd had to drape a magazine across her stupendous bosom and retreat to
the cramped lavatory, where she spent the next half hour draining her
overactive breasts into the sink while her blouse dried out.  She'd been
grateful that the blouse's color did not show dried milk very well.  Now
she hoped that a return to normalcy in her lifestyle would cause the same
to happen to her mental control over the sexual juggernaut The Accident
had transformed her body into.
	The apartment smelled of potpourri, and was immaculately clean,
just as it had been after Chris's return from her last long absence, which
was her hospitalization following The Accident.  Silently she thanked
Sherri for keeping an eye on the place.  At the thought of her, Chris felt
a little pang in her heart, her breasts, and her cunt.  Suddenly she
realized how much she had missed her friend and confidante.  Part of her
wanted to run over to her apartment right that second, but most of her was
just too tired.  She went to her refrigerator and opened the freezer. 
Sure enough, front and center was a pint of Ben & Jerry's with a note
shouting "WELCOME HOME!" in red marker attached to it.  Chris smiled and
her eyes brimmed with tears of relief at being back home in one piece and
gratitude for Sherri's thoughtfulness.
	She plopped down at her kitchen table, ice cream and spoon in
hand, and reached for the "play" button on her answering machine, which
was blinking madly at her.  The counter read 22 messages.  Gee, I hope
Sherri reminded Jeremy and everybody that I was going to be out of town
for a while, she thought.  For a second she considered just punching
"erase" and blotting them all out, but then reconsidered.  Wearily she
pressed the button and waited while the tape rewound.
	As she feared, the first seven messages, spaced over two days,
were from Jeremy.  The first couple were simple questions about some
upcoming appointments with Lac-Station clients.  The next two were
admonishments about having missed those appointments.  The next two were
quite angry, amounting to essentially "Where the fuck are you?".  The last
one from him was basically Jeremy firing her from the Lac-Station.  The
very next message was from Sherri, who was apologizing for neglecting to
tell Jeremy about the vacation.  She said that she'd spoken to Jeremy and
that all was forgiven.  Chris had mixed feelings after hearing those
messages.  She hadn't liked the way Jeremy sounded.  Maybe it was time to
leave the Station...
	The next several messages were from old clients of Chris's.  Most
of them were calling out of the mistaken notion that she was sick; the
messages were basically get-wells.  A few mentioned that they couldn't
wait to experience the taste of her milk once again before hanging up.  A
couple were considerably more suggestive, and one or two actually made her
grimace in disgust.  She'd have to make sure someone else in the group got
them next time.
	There were calls from all of the other staff of the Lac-Station
except for Eleanor, which didn't really surprise Chris; she and Eleanor
weren't really very close.  When she heard Monique's voice, Chris expected
another beratement (she and Jeremy were of the same mind when it came to
running the Station), but instead was surprised when it turned out to be a
good wish for a happy vacation and a suggestion that the girls get
together informally after she got back.  Several of the messages that
followed were of plans and counter-plans for a welcome-back party, finally
culminating in a time and place two days hence that could accommodate
everyone's schedules.
	The final message, timed only an hour before Chris's arrival at
her apartment, was from Sherri.  It started as an apology for having used
the apartment for a wild party the night before.  Come to think of it,
Chris thought as she sniffed the air, I do smell marijuana underneath that
potpourri.  She mentioned having broken a vase that had been a gift from
Jeremy.  Chris just shrugged and smiled.  She laughed out loud when Sherri
promised to return the sheets from her bed as soon as she'd finished
laundering them.  "The salad oil is proving a little difficult to get
out," she said.  Sherri's apology soon turned into an admission that she
missed Chris more than she thought she would, and then she began going
into exquisitely filthy detail about what she wanted to do with Chris as
soon as they could be alone together.  As Sherri described a favorite
activity of theirs -- pressing their four nipples together and combining
their streams of milk into a single torrent rivaling Angel Falls -- Chris
felt herself getting wet.  She freed her bosom just in time for milk to
begin dripping from her erect nipples.  She grabbed two hand towels from
the sink and placed one on her chair and the other on the table in front
of her.  With the abandon born of being back in familiar, safe
surroundings, she masturbated lustily, replaying Sherri's last message
twice as she did so, forming her words into visions of deliciously wicked
couplings to come.  And come she did, soaking both towels simultaneously
with different fluids.
	By the time she'd finished cleaning up, the pint of Ben & Jerry's
was gone, and all the phone messages erased.  Even though it was only the
middle of the afternoon, Chris was very tired from her travels.  Her body
seemed to know it was back home and so could completely relax.  She'd take
a quick nap, and then call Sherri.
	She was still asleep six hours later.

<<to be continued>>




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