My Mother-in-Law's Sweet Milk novel · Chapter 2 of 12

Chapter 2: The Prescription

My tie tightened around my neck and my face ended up ten centimeters from hers.

She smelled of warm milk, rose soap, and woman.

"Delfina," I said. "I'm your doctor."

"You're a man," she replied. "A man who's been sleeping with his wedding suit hanging in the closet for three weeks."

I was left breathless.

"How do you know that?"

"Because Regina told me everything in her goodbye message. She said you were good, boring, and that she couldn't stand you anymore."

"How kind."

"My daughter has many qualities, Isaac. Judgment isn't one of them."

She let go of my tie, and instead of pulling away, she placed her open hand on my chest, over the white coat.

"I came looking for you," she said in a low voice. "Not for the milk. The milk is real, the pain is real."

"But this morning I looked at my whole body in the mirror."

"I thought: if someone's going to touch me, let it be someone who doesn't make me feel old."

"You're not old."

"I'm not stupid either. And you're looking at me like you want to devour me."

I dropped the breast pump onto the tray.

I pulled off my gloves with two tugs and tossed them into the bin.

"Tell me to stop," I said.

"No."

"Delfina."

"If you make me stop, Isaac, I'll get up, fix my blouse, and go back to my hotel. But I swear I'll come back tomorrow."

I closed my eyes for a second.

Then I cupped her face with both hands and kissed her.

It was a ferocious kiss, open-mouthed, with tongue, three weeks of rage and four years of silence in it.

She moaned against my lips and dug her nails into the back of my neck.

She pulled me toward the exam table, but I lifted her by the waist.

I sat her on the desk, on top of the files and the keyboard, her legs dangling.

A pile of papers fell to the floor.

I didn't care.

"Take off your blouse," I said.

"So bossy."

"You're the one who asked for a full examination."

She laughed that deep, husky laugh of hers, and it made my cock strain against my pants.

She took off her blouse and her soaked bra.

Her breasts came out heavy, full, round, with dark, hard nipples swollen with milk.

Two thin white streams ran down toward her belly.

I knelt in front of the desk and licked one, slowly, from bottom to top.

It was sweet.

Warm, a little thick, with a taste of vanilla and cream.

Delfina let out a long moan and grabbed my hair.

"Isaac."

I sucked it.

I closed my lips around her nipple and pulled with my mouth, gentle at first, then deeper.

I felt the milk fill my tongue.

I swallowed it.

She arched her back over the desk.

"God," she panted. "God, what a relief. Like that. More."

I moved to the other breast.

My hand drifted down on its own between her thighs, under the hiked-up skirt, and I touched her lace underwear.

It was soaked.

I pushed it aside with one finger.

Her pussy was fleshy, dark, open, with trimmed brown curls and her swollen clit peeking out like a button.

I ran my thumb over it, slowly.

She shuddered.

"Four years," she repeated, looking at me through half-closed eyes. "Four years, Isaac."

"I'm going to prescribe you something."

"What."

"This."

I slid her underwear down her ankles.

I spread her legs with my hands, hooked them over my shoulders, and buried my face between her thighs.

I licked her pussy from bottom to top, with a flat tongue, and she cried out.

She covered her mouth with her fist so she wouldn't wake the whole building.

She tasted of salt, of woman, of desire.

I sucked her, pushed my tongue inside, circled her clit in short, quick loops while her heels dug into my back.

"Harder," she begged. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

I pushed two fingers in and curled them upward.

She was so wet I heard the squelch.

I kept going with my mouth, with my fingers, with a patience I didn't know I had.

Her hips started pushing against my face.

Her breasts trembled, and milk began to drip from her nipples in thin streams, over her belly, over the desk.

"I'm going to come," she said. "I'm going to..."

She came.

It was a long orgasm that ran through her whole body.

She arched, cried out against her fist, and squeezed her thighs around my head.

Milk burst from both breasts in warm jets, spilling over my chest and my white coat.

I straightened up, licking my lips.

I was drenched in her.

"That," I said. "That was the examination."

She was still trembling.

"I'm not done," she whispered.

"Neither am I."

I unbuttoned my pants and pushed down my boxers.

My cock sprang free, hard, thick, with a purple, glistening head.

Delfina looked at it.

Her honey-colored eyes darkened.

"Come here."

She took it in her hand, stroked it up and down, guided it to her entrance.

"Delfina."

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been sure since the waiting room."

I pushed.

I entered slowly, inch by inch, feeling her close around my cock, tight, hot, slick.

We both moaned.

I stayed buried to the hilt, my forehead resting against hers.

"So good," she whispered. "So good, God."

I started to move.

With long, deep thrusts, the desk creaking beneath us.

She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me closer.

Her breasts bounced against my chest, slippery with milk.

My coat, my shirt, my tie—everything was soaked, and I didn't care.

"Harder," she asked. "Don't treat me like a lady."

I gave it to her.

I gripped her hips and drove into her again and again, the desk slamming against the wall in a dry, rhythmic beat.

She bit my shoulder.

She scratched my back.

She called me doctor, she called me Isaac, she called me bastard, and I thanked her for every name.

When I felt myself about to come, I slid my hand down between us and rubbed her clit with my thumb.

"With me," I ordered. "Again, Delfina."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

She came again with a short cry, squeezing me so tight I lost control.

I emptied myself inside her with a long groan, my face buried in her neck, my whole body trembling.

We stayed like that, pressed together, panting.

Outside, it was already night.

Delfina ran her fingers through my sweaty hair.

"You know what's the strangest part?" she said.

"Tell me."

"Nothing hurts anymore."

I laughed against her skin.

She reached over to my prescription pad, which had survived in a corner of the desk, and picked up a pen.

She wrote something and tore off the sheet.

I read it.

"Twice a day. With company. Minimum four weeks."

Below it, a signature: "Dr. Delfina."

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