Prologue:
Whispers grew louder amongst those in certain social circles. Excitement was palpable. Chatter increased as business travel was returning to normal.
Apparently there was a new place for like-minded individuals to meet and express themselves. Somewhere they wouldn't be judged. Somewhere they could be themselves and try something new.
Business women admiring the bare breasts of hotel employees. Depending on the amount of money being paid, there was plenty of oral contact as well. Mouths on nipples. Tongues on labia. These were side gigs, but truth be told, any of the hotel employees would have done this for free. The money was a goodwill gesture.
In the mix of it all, a mafia enforcer named Claire was sent to the hotel to visit the owner, who was suspected of skimming cash after a thorough review of financial documents.
Claire's judgment was respected and her experience was vast. She had the coldness to kill. But she had the intelligence to make smart business decisions.
On the first morning of her visit, before dealing with the owner, she stopped by the cafe near the lobby. There were more hotel guests than she expected. As she drank her cappuccino, she noticed a few women looking her over.
"Are you... part of the entertainment?" a business woman asked with the utmost discretion, when no one else was listening.
For her part, Claire knew there was a sexual innuendo to the question. Was this the first time Claire had ever been approached by a woman? No. She was (figuratively) dressed to kill at all times. In another life she could have been a fashion model.
It was what made her so effective at her job. Her looks were disarming. No one ever suspected her. But the cold gaze in her eyes showed she meant business when necessary. The right glance from her could send a shiver down a man's spine if she wanted. Only if she wanted.
"I might be the entertainment," Claire said, going along with it. "Tell me everything you know. And don't hold anything back. I'm dying to hear these details."
Over cappuccinos, Claire learned that the woman was traveling for business to inspect real estate. She also learned that certain female employees here put on secret shows in hotel rooms. It was an all-women affair. A side job, of sorts.
Intrigued, she needed to know more. Perhaps killing the owner was unnecessary. Maybe a new opportunity was presenting itself.
Perspective: Nouri & Her Restaurant
Nouri owned and operated a popular Middle Eastern restaurant on the second floor of the hotel. Her pride and joy for the last several years.
With everything re-opening, she was glad to rehire some of her employees. With more time and customers, she'd eventually be able to hire everyone back. That was her goal. To care for her employees again and see her restaurant filled with customers, enjoying the food of her heritage.
She was surprised by the personal request to meet with the hotel owner at night after her restaurant closed. Usually everything was handled with managers and people in between. Rarely did she meet personally with the owner aside from when he ate at her restaurant.
When they met at the top floor office, Nouri was shocked to see the owner in a state of anguish, smelling alcohol on the man's breath. They stood by the window together and eye contact was purposely avoided. The hotel owner stared through the window, with redness and dried tears around his eyes.
"I see your business is doing well," Mr. Decker said, sniffling with his head hung low. "That's good."
Even though she could tell that her boss was broken up about something, she was hesitant to ask. Their relationship was strictly professional and she wasn't sure if it was appropriate to pry into her boss's personal life at this point.
"Thank God, business is returning," Nouri replied, wondering what was going on.
"Are you ready to work a full-schedule after returning from maternity leave? I've obviously never given birth so I have no idea what it's like."
"I'll be fine. Frankly, our daily service is less than half of our usual capacity. So it's a manageable workload for me."
She tried to be perky about it. She hoped that her positive outlook would help lift her boss's spirit, but that was a stretch.
"Do you need to make some extra money?" he asked with a cracked voice. "Whatever your finances are, everyone could always use more cash, right?"
"What's going on? You seem..."
"I need you to do a catering job tonight," he said. "Just you. Keep it a secret. I'll pay you generously."
It was the first time Mr. Decker looked in her direction that night and she could see a bruise forming under the man's eye. A punch to the face? Who could have done such a thing and why aren't the police here?
"What happened?" she asked, gulping.
"Don't ask. If you want to be helpful, bring drinks and desserts to room 875 tonight at 10 pm. Enough for several people. Make a good impression on my behalf, please."
It had been a long time since Nouri worked that late, but since this was serious, she agreed. Her basic assumption was that it was trouble with the bank or investors, since like everyone else in this line of work, the past year was a financial nightmare.
But that didn't explain the bruise under Mr. Decker's eye.
When her staff went home after cleaning the kitchen, Nouri gathered an assortment of drinks and pastries, putting them on a cart. A variety of fruit smoothies, milkshakes, French and Middle Eastern pastries. She was still wearing her white chef's jacket and her long hair was tied in a neat bun. It was the same composed look she maintained throughout the day, because as the boss, it was her job to set the tone.
The hotel was quiet at that hour. Only a few staff members could be seen in the lobby and no guests were in sight.
Nouri went up the elevator to the executive suite, once again assuming that VIP members wanted the pleasure of being served by the restaurant owner, instead of by a regular attendant. She'd done these kinds of meet-and-greets before, where she put on a smile and explained her dishes to the wealthy. These were usually at the behest of the hotel owner and she always felt pride for being acknowledged.
When the elevator door opened, she put on that same smile. Nouri pushed the cart down the hall and knocked on the door. She waited a moment as she stood upright and presentable.
Answering the door was a woman named Abigail who'd eaten at Nouri's restaurant the previous afternoon. Late 40's, dressed down in a casual business attire, and relaxed after having a few drinks. They both shared a startled look. Neither of them expected to see each other.
The striking thing was, the sound of pornography was playing in the background. It was so brazen and casual that they were both embarrassed by it.
"A pleasant surprise to see you here," Abigail said, stepping back. "I had no idea you were part of this."
Nouri gestured to the cart. "I have fruit drinks and pastries here. May I come in and serve?"
"Oh, sure. I didn't know anyone ordered it."
"Courtesy of the hotel owner. Am I interrupting something?"
There was talking in the background and a slight moan -- in addition to the porn video playing -- which only added to the tension between them.
"Please, come in," Abigail smiled.
Room service attending was outside of Nouri's duties, but she loved the personal touch of serving guests. This was the first time she'd ever brought food to the executive suite alone. The previous times she had employees with her to set up buffets for private parties.
The executive suite was a big place with many rooms. The background conversations were soft, as if there was something to hide.
In the living room, Nouri saw a woman in a hotel uniform top, bare from the waist down facing the wall and bent over, shaking her butt. No panties, shoes, nothing below. Her bare butt was pointed outward and jiggling from the dance. Her top was open and nipple showed from the side.
It was Janin from the receptionist area. A young woman with a trademark hair bun and painted red nails. Surely this was against hotel policy for an employee to engage in brazen sexual acts with the guests.
Two female hotel guests were watching this from the couch, unphased that Nouri had entered and 'caught' them in the act.
On the big screen tv, pornography was playing. It was a lesbian sex scene. Upon closer viewing, it was an orgy between female porn stars. The volume was high.
Down the hall, she heard faint moans from the bedroom. Sex? Most likely it was. What on earth was going on here? And why did Mr. Decker send her to this place alone? Everyone knows that sex romps happen in hotels, but this was unusual. Everyone here was a woman. Professional in their own ways.
Nouri blushed so hard. This was against her moral values. Refusing to look anymore, she put her head down, and without asking, she placed the fruit drinks and desserts on the table.
"These are delicious," Nouri said, moving quickly. "Everything was made today with love and care."
She enjoyed speaking from the heart regarding her food, but again, she could hardly bring herself to look anyone in the eyes.
Abigail replied, "Thank you. I know how this seems. It's my first time here and I know it's not for everyone. I'm sorry you had to see this."
"It's fine. We're all adults here."
She placed her pride and joy on the table for the guests to consume at their leisure. Then she flashed a graceful smile to the hotel guest she was speaking with, careful not to look at Janin who was still bent over, shaking her ass for the other women.
Politely declining to accept a generous tip, Nouri placed her palms on the handle of the cart so she could leave. It was natural that she felt aroused from the situation, but she refused to let anyone know it.
"Stop," a commanding female voice said. "Turn around."
Demanding guests are part of the service industry, but this was different. There was unshakable confidence of a woman who sounded like she could get whatever she wanted.
Nouri turned to look at the other woman, who stood in the living room to observe the night's action. This woman was tall and lean, with a tight ponytail and a cold gaze. Nouri felt herself being visually appraised by this woman, as if being meat displayed at a market.
The woman said, "Leaving already?"
"I was asked to bring drinks and desserts. Everything else that's happening here is none of my business."
"You're wearing a chef's jacket," the confident woman said.
"I own the restaurant on the second floor. I'm also the head chef."
"Who told you to come here?"
"Mr. Decker asked me to bring this. It's free of charge, if that's what you're worried about."
The woman approached her, face-to-face. "What else did Mr. Decker tell you?"
"I was only asked to serve food. If I'm disturbing anything, I apologize. I won't repeat anything I've seen. I can keep a secret."
"That's fine. My name is Claire, and you?"
"Nouri."
They shook hands.
"Beautiful name," Claire said. "It has a good ring to it. I've heard it a few times when I've traveled. It's very nice."
"Thank you. Your name is lovely as well."
"How much for you to stay and join us?"
For a second, Nouri had a blank look on her face, wondering what purpose she'd serve hanging around for this. A moment later, she understood what was going on. These hotel guests were paying for a service. Janine was doing a side gig. And whoever was making those noises in the guest room must have also been a hotel employee.
"I'm flattered, but I decline," Nouri smiled, blushing.
"It's rare that someone turns me down. Part of my job is convincing people to say yes."
Slowly but surely, it was starting to make sense why the owner sent Nouri here to serve complimentary food. She could only imagine the kind of financial squeeze this hotel has been facing.
"Are you with the bank?"
Claire raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Something like that."
"Forgive me for asking, but is something going on with Mr. Decker? Or this hotel?"
"I'll explain a few things if you stay and watch. I'd like your company."
Because her restaurant was her only source of income, Nouri felt compelled to stay. A big part of her soul would be gone if the hotel closed and her business along with it. The possibility of that happening seemed real and explained why Mr. Decker appeared in such a dark mood.
Holding hands, Claire guided her to the couch and they sat alongside each other, watching two business women get on their knees to give Janine oral sex from behind. The women took turns and explored new things. It was like they had some level of experience, but not enough for easy comfort. Nouri could tell that they were genuinely enjoying this experience.
This was the first time Nouri had ever watched people having sex, much less a group of sophisticated women. It was surreal and she felt herself relaxing. Yes, a part of her liked watching. Yes, she was aroused. She wondered if anyone could smell her wetness.
"This hotel is under new management," Claire explained, watching the lesbian action. "Decker is still the main front. Contracts will still be honored. Just carry on as usual. That's how it goes sometimes, but I'm sure you already know that."
Such depressing news.
"Are you with the bank? Or do you represent investors?"
"What do you think?"
"You must represent investors. Women in banking don't dress like you. I know that for a fact."
"That's correct," Claire winked. "I represent a group of investors and it's my job to make sure everything is fair and square."
Nouri watched the tongues lapping the labia. "If only your investors can solve my problems as well."
"What do you need?"
"Oh, sorry. I was thinking out loud."
Snapping out of her trance was difficult, but Nouri managed. She watched the hotel employee's body tremble and shake, being so close to an orgasm from the tongue lashings.
"Tell me what you need," Claire repeated. "I want to make sure you're succeeding."
Nouri looked at the woman. "Customers. The same problem most people have these days. I'm doing fine with my own savings, but I think about my employees and I want to hire them back."
"Done. I can write you a check tomorrow."
"Wait, are you serious? I was only making conversation."
"With business, I'm always serious. It's my job to be serious."
"We've literally just met," Nouri countered.
"I'm with new management and my money is good. But there's one condition, of course, because money is never free."
"What's that?"
Claire was emotionless. "Perform for me. For us. I want you part of this secret hotel entertainment. I want you part of what's attracting new revenue. Because make no mistake about it, Nouri, what you see here is bringing in revenue. Working women need a place to release their stress after busy days."
The offer was genuine and Nouri was flabbergasted. Simply speechless. One moment she was excited by the prospect of getting financial support (assuming she could trust this woman), the next moment she knew the support was impossible.
"That's not my thing," Nouri said.
"Why? You want money, don't you? You want to help your employees?"
"Of course, but I could never do this."
"Your beauty is impeccable. You have many attractive qualities and I think you're special."
Nouri smiled, "Thanks, but even if I did want to do it, my body isn't... you know... my body isn't up to par."
"You're gorgeous."
"I finished maternity leave a few months ago. My body is different. That's one of the endless reasons you wouldn't be interested in having me here. Because I'm not interested and my body is... well... it's changed. I'm still trying to bounce back."
Instead of being a deterrence, Nouri's admission only added fuel to the fire in Claire's eyes, which went up and down her body.
"Oh really?" Claire said. "Now you've raised the stakes."
"Like I said, I'm not interested. I'm only giving a reason why you wouldn't want to see me."
On cue, the hotel employee in front of them had an orgasm, and the two business women lapped everything up. It was a lewd, but beautiful sight. Taboo and tasteful. These were classy women with dark desires.
"I will give you a check for $100,000 tomorrow," Claire said, licking her lips. "Take the check to the bank. Confirm it's real. Consider it an investment because we'll need your restaurant at full staff with all the customers and hotel guests I plan on bringing here."
It was a jaw dropping offer, assuming this woman was genuine. Could it be? Never in her life had she come across such money so easily. She lived a good life, financially speaking, but it came at a cost. She worked hard for long hours and was rarely home during weekdays.
"And if the money is real?"
"Everything comes at a price. The money is real. So am I."
She watched Claire stand to join the group of women performing in the center of the living room. Claire unbuttoned her blouse. She was thin but strong. Almost the figure of a fitness model, but more slender.
Everything was removed from Claire's body. Blouse. Bra. Skirt. Panties. Even the heels, getting barefoot on the floor. This was a woman of great confidence and beauty, with perky breasts and long pink nipples.
Claire danced with the other business women and the hotel employee. Danced to the music of lesbian pornography behind them, a chorus of moaning and orgasms from the flat screen tv. Their hands touched each other and they stood in a close circle.
"Take turns eating me," Claire ordered them. "It's been a while since I've cum, so make it a good one."
They knew to respect a woman like Claire, who had a powerful presence. Getting on their knees, the other women were open to everything. Their curiosity and desire were shining through. This is exactly what these women were here for, whatever this was.
Nouri looked at Claire's right hand, which was rubbing through a woman's hair. There was a red bruise on Claire's two knuckles, the same way Mr. Decker had a bruise on the side of his face.
It was apparent what was happening.
Her pulse raced watching these women taking turns giving oral sex to Claire in the most obedient of ways. The pornographic video was still playing in the background, but this was the real thing. Respectable women at play was better than seeing porn stars.
The twisting feeling in Nouri's stomach grew as the living room descended into an orgy that matched the porn video. The women got on the floor, still taking turns giving oral sex to their leader.
Nouri wondered.
Why did Mr. Decker ask her to come alone and provide catering here? Could it have been Claire all along? Was this all a ruse? Whatever it was, she felt a clenching sensation between her legs from watching these women play.
Perspective: A Mafia Enforcer
In case you're wondering -- and I'm sure you are -- Nouri's breasts are a sight to behold. They are beautiful globes that are firm to the touch. Her nipples and areolas are large. Brownish-pink. A lighter color than you'd expect compared to her brown skinned body. If you look closely, you can see the lines around her areola and the pores on her nipples.
Her body is mostly narrow, but the pregnancy added an extra layer of fat around her waist and butt, which I find to be sexy. It makes her more of a complete woman in my eyes. And I really like it.
This is our first business arrangement. I've never actually told her what I do, but I've said enough, and I'm sure she's smart enough to get the hint. Nonetheless, the money is good, courtesy of my bosses in New York who've agreed to this. The check was deposited and we are now business partners of sorts.
Now she's standing topless in her kitchen after the staff went home. Her bra and chef's jacket are on the countertop. I can see how nervous she is and I don't blame her one bit.
I give her breasts an inspection for 'quality control.' Pushing them with my fingers. Rubbing the skin. Prodding at the sides to make them sway. I even bounce them a little. I am careful to avoid any premature leakage. That should be saved for later. But my touching is enough to make her nipples erect, which causes her to blush.
Once I'm satisfied with my inspection, I tell her to wear her chef's jacket again. Nothing underneath. This is pre-planned so she knows the drill. The fabric of her outfit is thick but it's noticeable that she's not wearing a bra. The shape of her chest area is different now that she's braless.
Both of us push separate carts toward the dining area of the restaurant where a select group of guests are sitting. Seven in total for tonight. These are mostly business travelers looking for an escape from their daily lives. A few are locals who paid top dollar to join, since they aren't booked with the hotel. Fees are fees, after all.
Walking behind Nouri is like marching a man towards his death. I can feel the undeniable tension which gives me a God-like rush. The smell of fear. But I am armed only with my words. And this is very consensual, I can assure you of that.
Our guests turn silent when they hear our footsteps and the wheels of the carts. I'm new to this kind of service, but I'm a fast learner. I enjoy it because kinky sexual activities will be involved. Our guests enjoy it for the same reason. None of them have ever had this kind of milk service before.
The carts stop and we're standing in front of the two tables where the guests are sitting. We introduce ourselves and Nouri explains that this is her restaurant. She explains the history behind it -- a beautiful story -- and the food we're about to serve. A light, late night dessert.
I do the honors of opening Nouri's jacket. Where she presents her food, I present her breasts. I'm fond of her big tits. As much as I want to admire them all night, I'm curious about the reaction of the guests, so I look at them. Just as I thought. The crowd is transfixed by these lactating boobs.
For a moment, I try to envision myself in Nouri's position. In her career, I'm sure she's used to people fawning over her food whenever she presents it. After all, her food is art. It looks like it belongs in a museum, it's that pretty. Now, the five-star food was secondary to her prominent breasts and hard nipples.
Oh yes, those nipples are like Naomi Watts on a breezy, braless day. A dream of dreams. Anyone with a pulse and beating heart would want to suck on those. Her breasts are looking swollen from arousal and milk. Her nipples beg to feel release.
"I think our guests have waited long enough," I say. "Mother nature has been gracious enough to provide us with her most potent drink."
With my little nudge, the restaurant owner is blushing, but my smile is one that is comforting.
Everyone in the room watches with the same curiosity as Nouri uses both hands to get a firm hold of her left breast. She bends over, aiming her long brownish-pink nipple towards a cake and gives herself a nice squeeze. Starting from the base of her breast, she pushes that pressure towards her nipple.
The result is glorious. Nouri's nipple is spraying a stream of white cream onto the gourmet desserts. Cakes, custards, puddings, cups of coffee, were being dressed with breast milk. The fluid is making a mess on the platter, but the right kind of mess. To me, it is true art. Jackson Pollock putting the final touches on a masterpiece.
When the breast is done, Nouri uses her other tit. It is adorable seeing her facial expression as she milks herself. She looks serious, because after all, this is serious work. She looks as though she's putting the final touches on a meal fit for a royal family, but instead of traditional culinary instruments, she's using a sexual body part.
She stands upright when complete. White drops of milk hang from the tips of her nipples and she wipes it away with her hands.
"Bon appetit," Nouri says with a straight face and upright posture.
It's amazing how composed she looks after lactating onto her food. I'm sure it is agonizing to do something so sexual in front of everyone. Even now, as she stands beside the carts of her food, her chef's jacket is still open and her big tits are still exposed. It's all part of the night's service.
The guests are apprehensive about getting their first bite. Nervousness is normal. I smile and tell them that it's okay to be shy. We're exploring and learning together. That this will always be a secret amongst the like-minded.
Like proper women, they stand and form a line, each grabbing a small spoon while eyeing what they choose to eat first. With their perfect manners, they take small bites of whatever appeals to their personal taste. The sophisticated women are sure to get an equal portion of cake with milk. Custard with cream.
There's something oddly addictive about what I'm doing. I see the sexual darkness that these women have and are now embracing. All thanks to the wonders of Nouri's body.
I see the women becoming emboldened after their first bite. They eat a little more. Their spoonfuls become bigger. A brave woman asks Nouri for 'extra cream' in the most delicate voice, struggling to find the confidence, and Nouri agrees to the request. The woman sucks Nouri's nipple and Nouri looks like she has the shock of a lifetime.
Ah, the things people do for money. In my line of work, I'm sent to deal with deadbeats, sharks, and cheats. I make them pay. I hurt them if I have to. Kill if I must. Do they deserve it? They know the risks when they make the deal. And they know who they're fucking with.
Nouri's case is different. She has a beautiful heart to match her beautiful breasts. I respect that she's sacrificing her body and integrity to help her struggling employees. That's a lot more than most employers would do. But is it really a sacrifice if I see that Nouri is on the verge of an orgasm?
The women are mauling Nouri's big breasts. Manners be damned. Apparently the breast milk is so delicious that women of integrity are reduced to acting like addicts. They have a taste of Nouri's food, and needing more cream, they suck on her nipple for extra milk. Fresh milk that is still warm, I might add.
It strikes my curiosity. I've never tasted a woman's breast milk before, but I love the taboo thought of it. I love the swollen appearance of lactating breasts. As for big nipples, that's one of my addictions. The bigger the more suckable. Nouri has the total package as far as I'm concerned.
These women respect me, so they step out of the way when I approach. It's my turn and they've had their fair share. I don't mind that Nouri's nipples are now covered in saliva. I think a woman's saliva is quite erotic if fresh from a lustful mouth.
Looking at the tits, I wonder if it's my imagination, or have the large breasts turned even more swollen waiting for me? The nipples appear to be protruding in anticipation of my mouth.
I lean down and suck on her nipple. As expected, she tastes good. Her milk is creamy and sweet. It's the first time I've ever tasted a woman's milk and I enjoy the thought that it comes from her body. As expected, her nipple is stiff and feels delightful on my tongue. I roll it around in my mouth, sucking on it.
The more I suckle, the harder she gets, and the more milk squirts into my mouth. I gladly drink it. I hear Nouri moan. She's enjoying it, so I do it even more.
Nouri tries to pull her body away from me, but she stops herself. I know this must be difficult for a good Muslim woman like herself. But nothing is free in this world. I deeply respect her loyalty to her workers and her commitment to her restaurant. It's an admirable trait.
For that reason, I give pleasure to her other nipple. Breast milk and saliva flow into my mouth and I enjoy the flavor once again.
She deserves an orgasm so I pull my mouth away. I instruct Nouri to undress and lay across the table. This hadn't been discussed prior, but she doesn't refuse my request. No one refuses my request. I'm sure Nouri understands my occupation by now.
The women continue eating small bites while Nouri undresses. Maybe it's her classical training from culinary school, but she does everything I say and treats her chef's jacket with reverence as she removes it. She even removes her shoes to get barefoot. Her stomach, thighs, and butt, show the aftermath of her recent pregnancy. She's sexy as hell.
Following my orders, she lays on the nearest table. Her face shows a bundle of nerves and her movements are tense. I peek between her legs and she is wet. I can smell it, too.
I'm an artist as well. I grab the cake with my bare hands, placing it on the center of Nouri's chest. I take a handful of pudding and place it on top of Nouri's big breasts, making sure to lather each nipple. I put handfuls of custard on Nouri's crotch and pussy. This makes her flinch, hard. I put more of the custard on Nouri's toes, which also makes her flinch.
The result is the restaurant owner laying stiff with her gourmet food across her body. She looks straight towards the ceiling with a bewildered expression. She knows what's about to happen.
"Is everybody full already?" I ask, as if to taunt them for being so timid. "Indulge a little more. Show your gratitude towards the chef. Taste new things and elevate your palates."
Everyone in the dining area hesitates, except for me, because I never hesitate. I get the ball rolling by putting the tip of Nouri's toe in my mouth to suck. It is covered by the yellow custard with remnants of white milk still glazed on top. I'm interested in sucking Nouri's clitoris as well, but that will come later. I like the idea of tasting another woman's saliva on it.
The others join me. We dine on Nouri's body and I can hear moaning. While licking her toes, I can see the women putting their mouths all over. They share the food around Nouri's breasts and crotch. Her nipples are sucked and her labia is licked. A tongue went into her cunt and Nouri moans. Her toes curl into circles.
I figure I'd do the honors. I put two fingers inside Nouri while an office accountant sucks the clitoris. Other women are nursing at each breast, thirsty for more fresh milk.
This makes Nouri cum and she sobs uncontrollably. But we don't stop. These women are paying good money to be here and they expect their money's worth. They want big orgasms, new experiences, and for the night's specialty -- everything Nouri has to offer.
I lick my fingers clean and taste Nouri's fluids. It's as delicious as her breast milk, which the others keep on drinking until the tits are drained. Nouri is laying on her back, breathing heavy, while the women take turns for every precious drop of her liquids.
This is her first night on the job.
My trip here is extended for another week -- call it overseeing a major investment. The hotel owner is now compliant and the side venture is also performing strongly. I eat at Nouri's restaurant everyday and she always prepares something special for me.
One of the night meetings took place in the executive suite and I pair Nouri with a young hotel employee. The young employee latches her mouth on each lactating breast and the new crop of guests are watching this spectacle in awe. They'd never seen anything like this before. This fantasy never crossed their minds until I presented them with the opportunity to see it.
Nouri kisses the woman in a passionate makeout session, swapping breast milk in each other's mouths. They go down on each other. Then the timid guests take turns going down on Nouri and sample each nipple. Late at night, everyone leaves with their heads twirling. Everyone with wetness between their legs and lactation in their mouths.
"I'm grateful for the money," she says to me after the experience. "My employees are thrilled to have their jobs back. Of course, I told them it's a loan from the hotel owner and they believed me."
We're both naked in the bathroom together. Alone in the suite. Nouri's body is a mess, covered in her breast milk, along with squirt (hers and others). Her hair is also messy and there are fluids streaked across her face.
"Technically you're telling the truth. This hotel is under new management and we expect a full staff from now on."
Nouri touched the undersides of her own breasts. "My nipples are sore. They've been sucked for over an hour. I can orgasm just from nipple play, you know."
"I can tell. Your nipples are heavenly gifts."
"Will you shower with me? Wash my hair. I could use a good helper to rinse out the squirt and accidental urine."
I laugh. "Haven't you realized? The urine part was intentional. You're marked territory."
"That's a terrifying thought, yet oddly arousing."
We get in the shower together and have a quick rinse. I hold the shower head in my hand and wash Nouri from behind. She's facing away from me. I rinse her hair and think of the sexual fluids flowing down her body.
Do I feel bad for this? Not really. Nouri's life is mundane and she's overworked. Because of me, her employees have their jobs back. Because of me, Nouri and her employees can go back to doing what they love, which is cooking and serving their delicious food.
Nouri is living her best life because of me. I turn off the water and shampoo her hair. She's still facing away from me. I use shower gel on her body, reaching over to lather her breasts. There is still extra milk inside -- miraculously, after all she did that night -- and I gladly play with her sore nipples. Although I can't see her face, I can hear her breathing.
The End
