I was rubbing the can hard against my firm flesh, its color had gone from warm pink to cool reddish to purple, I started into his eyes as he started a... my nipple, 'Does that stop the milk', he asked, I shook my head, 'No sweetheart, it gives me pleasure', and I reached up and placed my hand behind his head and brought it down gently but firmly onto my breast, and guided my nipple into his open mouth, and squeezed my breast firmly, squirting my my warm milk into his mouth, the warmth of the milk. Soon, there was another, then another. They fluttered from table to table, watching me with their little heads on one side.“Wald!”I peered around, hearing the thin, high pitched voice.I was alone and yet I heard it again, almost imperceptible.I shrugged my shoulders mentally, it must have been something squeaking, a stall holder perhaps, closing or opening a door to his little chalet.I looked again at the little birds, still perched around me.“I'm sorry.” I said to them, “I have nothing for. More

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