Chapter 2

“You really believe that?” I ask. “Cold weather doing that to a woman’s breasts?”

“Do you know a lot about breast milk?”

“I was a sitter for my cousins before.”

“Good to know, and to be honest, it could be a ruse.”

“Why would the professor lie?”

“Because we both wanted the same thing. My lips around her nipples.”

I gasp. “You can’t be serious.”

“Swear on everything. No one knows except you.”

“You’re joking. There’s no way a professor of that esteem would risk it all. Plus the part about her breast milk and the weather, that’s unheard of. Nice try though.”

Leighton gets up and sits on my bed right next to me. She’s sitting with her legs crossed and she’s facing my direction, while I turn to her. She puckers her lips and blows her breath in my direction, creating a gentle breeze on my face. It takes a few moments of inhaling to smell the unmistakable aroma of a woman’s lactate. My eyes widen. Her eyes narrow.

“It’s like regular milk, with a more distinct smell,” she says.

“Why are you telling me about this, anyway.”

“Because the professor mentioned having TA positions that’ll be open in the future. And I want you to do well, you know, having that connection with someone like her.”

“This is wild. I was just looking at her pictures while you were in the bathroom. She seems intimidating.”

“Professor Nanda is definitely an unusual person. Her mind is sharp, her manners are always on-point, she rarely smiles. I think that’s what makes her so sexy, in addition to her natural beauty.”

“So the professor is open to having another person assisting her?”

“I’ll have to ask. I wanted to get your opinion first.”

“This is wild. I mean, wow.”

“Have you ever touched another girl before?” she asks.

“No comment. It’s complicated.”

“That’s a normal response. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“How does this work with the professor?” I ask. “Did the physical contact start today? An ongoing thing? I have to think it’s super risky for someone like her to be doing this on campus.”

“Today was the third time. She texts me on really cold days, when it’s snowing. Her office is spacious. She locks the door and we sit by the wall to avoid that small window, so no one sees us inside.”

“And you just… suck?”

Leighton nods. “The professor likes my hands, first and foremost. She opens her top like nudity is nothing to her. She’s a woman of science, after all. The human body and its mechanics are simply another day in the office. When she does this, her nipples always turn erect. She has me start with my hands. She likes when I rub her boobs. There’s a particular caress that she taught me, how to stroke and cup her breasts. She complains about the cold weather outside and says my hands are a natural heating system that gets her blood vessels primed.

She continues, “That’s when I start to suck. At her command, when she’s ready. The milk flows freely after I’d work her boobs. I’ll admit, it’s an odd feeling drinking that kind of fluid from a woman’s tits, but there’s a reason I keep going back. And there’s a reason she keeps calling.”

“Can I ask you a personal question? Well, it’s already personal, but this is more personal.”

“Is this purely sexual for both of you? That’s the vibe I’m getting here. It seems so obvious, but it’s like she’s somehow using the ruse of the cold weather affecting her lactation.”

“All matters of the nipple are inherently sexual,” she says. “Are you interested?”

The question hits me like a ton of bricks. The idea of nursing on a woman had never crossed my mind in my entire life. I never saw it as a sexual act before. I never understood why any adult would want to drink the milk of a woman, when pasteurized milk is available in stores. I do, however, understand the appeal of big nipples. Maybe that’s what draws Leighton to this fetish, and make no mistake, this is a fetish she’s engaged in.

“Can I think about it?”

“I’m not going to pressure you,” she says. “It’s a friendly offer, besides, the professor would have to approve of it.”

“How do you envision this happening? Assuming the professor agrees to me joining.”

“You and me. Side by side. Sucking on each of Professor Nanda’s big dark nipples.”

I gulp. “Why would you want that?”

“You’re a friend. I want you to succeed. Having strong connections to faculty is important to academic success, you know.”

Leighton’s words and tone don’t match. She sounds like she wants to help me as a roommate, as a friend, but her eyes and tone suggest something else. If I had to guess, I’d bet that she’s wet between the legs, imagining me joining them. I never thought of her as a lesbian before, just a free spirit. I never wanted to inquire that deeply about her sex life because I’d be opening Pandora’s box.

We end the conversation with the offer still intact. I respect that she doesn’t push me toward this. And I think she’s too embarrassed to press this further. Leighton is a girl who gets whatever she wants and is never shy about asking. This is the first time she’s ever shown a glimpse of being timid.

At night we lay in bed, I can hear her sleeping, breathing, but I’m still awake with the moonlight shining in our room. Before bed I’d been looking at pictures of the professor on my phone. Leighton hadn’t broached the topic again, but it’s all I can think about. It’s the offer of a lifetime. I think about my willingness to commit a sexual act in the name of gaining favoritism. I think about the ethics of using my mouth. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.

My hand slips below while Leighton is sound asleep. Everyone masturbates, Leighton feels comfortable doing it openly, I do not. She’s more about rhythm and vibes and being in the moment. I’m more about privacy and neatness. I usually pleasure myself while she’s in class, laying in bed with a piece of folded tissue beside me for immediate clean up.

This is the first time I pleasure myself while she’s near. Does it turn me on that she’s sleeping while I touch myself? No. That isn’t my thing. What’s turning me on right now is thinking about those pictures of Professor Nanda and imagining what her nipples must look like. And what her milk must taste like.

~~~ December 4th 2023 ~~~

We’re walking outside, Leighton and I, through the quad and past the other students. It’s late afternoon, so foot traffic is down, and it’s freezing cold. Not snowing, but enough to make you shiver. We’re walking at a brisk pace like we’re on a mission. Because we are.

Leighton had met with the professor a few more times, but today I have the courage to join. To be super clear, this isn’t a quid pro quo. I’m not bargaining for better grades in the future. I’m simply doing the professor a small favor. No unethical agreements (though the ethics of nipple play between professor/student is a different matter altogether).

The only request we’ve gotten is that our mouths be washed and we wear gloves to keep our hands warm. It makes sense to be clean and I’m assuming the professor expects her breasts to be rubbed.

We enter the science building and it’s quiet at this hour. We head to the fourth floor to reach the office. I’ve laid eyes on Professor Nanda a few times recently from stalking her, but it’s different when she looks right at me. I have nervous energy in the pit of my stomach like we’re about to have sex, even though it’s not technically sex.

The professor looks beautiful with her grace and sense of sophistication. She wears glasses and her black hair is in a bun today. Her wardrobe is reasonably priced. Her office is typical for a professor, books and papers everywhere, but she has pictures of shrines from Burma and other antiques from the South Asian region. For some reason that makes me horny, like we’re doing the forbidden with someone who culturally shouldn’t be doing this — on top of her being an educator.

She stops what she’s doing and comes over to greet us, forming a rare smile seeing both of us together. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile and it’s a gem.

“This is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Leighton says.

Professor Nanda extends a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Leighton tells me you’re a wonderful roommate who puts up with her unusual habits.”

I shake the professor’s hand and introduce myself. Leighton told the professor about her masturbation habits in our dorm? That’s the impression I’m getting. Anyway, I tell the professor my name and that I’m a biology major, that we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future when I take her advanced courses. The professor nods, delighted by this news.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Professor Nanda says. “The biology field is dependent on fresh faces like yours. The courses are challenging, I’ll admit, but we’ll work through it.”

“Hard work doesn’t scare me, which you’ll probably find out, you know. Well, you know what I’m saying. Can you tell that I’m nervous right now?”

She laughs. “Let’s get started. I’m sure you two have other important things you’d rather be doing.”

The professor locks the door, then she stands by the table, which is away from the view of the door’s small window. Leighton and I remove our jackets and hand gloves. Professor Nanda unbuttons her blouse like she’s getting a medical exam, instead of anything sexual. Perhaps I’ve misread her intentions. Maybe it’s a cultural difference and she doesn’t view this as being sexual at all?

“The cold weather is like a metaphor for motherhood. It can be harsh and unforgiving, but incredibly rewarding. Challenges give life meaning. And what’s life without a little bit of adventure on the side?”

As her unbuttoned blouse falls open, her white nursing bra contrasts with her dark skin, while her arms remain covered. When she pulls the front of her bra down, her nipples are exposed. They’re big and dark. Her breasts are roughly average sized but they’re swollen. It’s her nipples that catch my attention and they’re mesmerizing.