Chapter 2

“You can still smell the lactate,” she says. “I thought about washing it in the bathroom sink, but I wanted to preserve the DNA evidence.”

“I’m sorry this is happening. It’s my fault.”

She shakes her head. “That hasn’t been established yet. This could be a cosmic coincidence. I’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment for a check-up.”

My paranoia envisions a future in which we’re taken to a lab against our will. Strapped to a bed. And I’m forced to explain the existence of the lamp to government agents. As I mentioned earlier, I tend to overreact.

“Wait,” I say. “Let me find a solution. You know, something where this remains discreet. I’ll talk to the shopkeeper and see how we can resolve this.”

Professor Chen understands, giving a slight nod to show her agreement of this delicate situation. Neither of us wants to become lab rats.

Later that afternoon, I convince my best friend to drive me back to the antique shop. She doesn’t believe me. Yet she’s responsive to my frantic state of mind. Consistent with my luck, the shop is permanently closed. Everything inside is gone

We sit in the car and I run my fingers through my hair. Why can’t life ever be simple? All I want is to finish my degree and get a job I’m content with.

“What other details were in your dream?” my friend asks.

“Just what I mentioned. A lake of white fluids. It was vivid, like I could feel it washing over my body. And then the arousal. Oh god, I woke up like a hot bitch.”

She thinks. “If it’s a lake, the problem should be finite. At least it wasn’t an ocean. Give it a few days, it should blow over. Or you can try wishing again?”

“I already used my one wish, apparently, but let’s try it again.”

The lamp is in the backseat, wrapped in a towel, and I reach over to grab it. Once uncovered, I rub the smooth surface and wish. Doing this in front of my friend is cringe-worthy, but I’m desperate. My friend doesn’t make fun of me because she knows I’m in distress.

I wish in careful terms. I’m cautious of the power that I wield. One small mistake can trigger an even bigger crisis, assuming the power is real. As the professor stated, this could be a ‘cosmic coincidence’ where the lamp is actually useless and she had a legit medical issue. Maybe she’s pregnant and doesn’t know it? Perhaps milk produced early.

Nonetheless, I wish for things to return to normal.

“There,” I say. “That’s all I can do.”

“While you were praying, I was thinking about your story.”

“If you truly believe that you caused Professor Chen to lactate, then you owe a moral duty to provide assistance, assuming the problem isn’t resolved yet.”

I look at my friend. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if she’s joking or not. Right now, it’s anybody’s guess. She has a great poker face and a dry sense of humor. Most of her jokes are dirty, I should add.

She purses her lips together and makes a sucking/slurping sound, pouting her lips in different shapes, simulating the act of nursing.

“Yes, assistance,” she says.

“First of all, if anyone is giving the professor ‘assistance,’ it’s you, because you’re the one that took me to some random antique shop. Secondly, you’re the one who needs extra protein. Not me.”

She laughs. “Touche.”

My friend starts the car and drives. I wrap the lamp in a towel. Hopefully there will be good news in the days to come.

At night I have the dream of all dreams. I rarely dream the same thing twice in a row, but here we are. I’m swimming in the lake again. Milk Lake, we can call it. The sky is orange, either sunrise or sunset. The liquid feels warm against my skin and this is the fountain of youth.

I’m swimming toward a naked woman who’s facing away. She’s skinny with short black hair. As I swim closer, she turns around and looks at me. It’s an Asian woman with big, dark nipples. I’m captivated by her ethereal beauty. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s my teacher and she’s waiting for me.

Once I make it to land, I step out of the milky lake. The white fluids drip from my body and she approaches me. Our feet make crinkling sounds on the grass, our toes dig into the dirt. She tucks my hair back and then kisses me. God she’s a great kisser. We lay on the grass and make out. Her hand goes between my legs.

When I awake, it’s 5:43 a.m. with total darkness outside. There are tiny beads of sweat on my forehead and chest. My clit aches. Sore, almost. My panties are wet. Did I piss myself? I reach beneath my panties and touch the wetness, then bring my fingers to my nose to smell.

The scent is obvious. Not piss. The fragrance is my cum.

It’s early Thursday morning and I go to Professor Chen’s office before class starts. About an hour beforehand, because we need the time alone. We’d been in contact and unfortunately there’s no luck. Nothing to suggest that the milk situation is going away.

She hasn’t arrived yet, so I wait outside and reflect on the downward spiral that is my life. Or maybe this is an upward spiral? Either way, my life will never be the same after this. How will things change? It’s too early to say.

My teacher comes to the office after I’ve been waiting for almost 15 minutes. She’s wearing a blazer over her tshirt. Jean pants. Her hands carry her supplies and laptop case. To anyone else, she appears to be a professor getting her day started, but only we know the truth.

“Good morning, Ashley,” she says, with a subtle tenseness.

“Morning, professor. Can we talk privately?”

“That’s the appropriate choice.”

We’re awkward in the hallway and she rushes to open the door so we can go inside. She locks the door. No one can enter. It’s one thing to communicate via text message, but for an emergency like this, face-to-face meeting is ideal.

She puts her things down and removes her blazer. Her face looks a few years older, as if she hardly slept from the stress. I look at her chest. I swear her breasts are a size bigger, making her a firm b-cup. Once again, I used to work at Victoria’s Secret, so I know these things.

“Any update?” I ask.

“I should be asking you that question. But to give you an answer, I’m officially a lactating woman.”

“How about the pregnancy tests?”

“I’ve taken three so far,” she says. “Including this morning. All negative. I’m a monstrosity of science, it appears. If things don’t get better, I’ll see a doctor.”

The thought of us becoming lab rats frightens me. The professor has the same fear, that’s why she looks so stressed.

“I’ve done what I can, you know, with the lamp. I hope things will get resolved soon.”

“You still believe that?”

“It’s the only plausible explanation,” I reply.

“What are you doing about your breast milk?”

Professor Chen reaches into her laptop container, where she stuffed a breast pump and small cup. She holds it out. There’s a content look on her face, as if she’d accepted her fate already.

“This is my solution,” she says. “A pump in between classes.”

“I’ve read they can be uncomfortable.”

“What choice do I have?”

This is where my plan (and my wet dream) comes into play. It may not be the ideal solution, but it makes sense, at least to me and my friend who suggested it. And if I’m being honest with myself, it’s the only solution that appeases my newfound, mysterious desire.

“We both know this is my fault,” I say. “So it makes sense that I have to resolve the situation.”

“Fault hasn’t been established. And I have the breast pump.”

“I should handle it for you. It’s my fault. My responsibility.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“I’ll nurse from your breasts. It’s more comfortable than using a pump.”

Professor Chen is speechless from my proposal. I think deep down, she’s tempted by the offer, but refuses to entertain it for ethical reasons. I can tell that this option had never crossed her mind. Apparently this fantasy is something that only I had — not her.

The look of confusion goes away, replaced with an expression that seems angry. She might consider my offer to be an insult. As if I’m jeopardizing her career as an educator. She still refuses to speak, though I can tell she’s going to be careful with her words. I can see her thinking.

“You know that’s inappropriate,” she says.

“Give me one chance. If it works, I’ll keep doing it for you. If not, we’ll pretend it never happened.”

Her silence speaks volumes and she looks away. It’s the universal expression of feeling shame as her head faces down.

I stand in front of her, determined, but respectful of her boundaries and authority. My goal isn’t to make her uncomfortable, but to help her. Professor Chen knows this, which is why she doesn’t kick me out.

My fingers pinch the bottom of her tshirt, and when she doesn’t scream at me, I view this as a tepid form of consent. I lift her tshirt. Her stomach is white and her waist is narrow. I lift higher and see her nursing bra. It has absorbent material and an opening latch for each cup.

“I bought these yesterday,” she says. “It’ll prevent another accident in class.”

“Smart choice. It looks good on you.”

“Looks are irrelevant. It’s about being practical.”

Even as I’m about to suck her nipples, she’s still analytical-minded, which is shockingly sexy. We look each other in the eyes. Her expression softens, giving me permission. I can tell by looking at Professor Chen that she’s never been with another woman, much less a student.

On the flipside, I’ve never done anything with breast milk before. The thought had never crossed my mind. I’m sure if someone had asked me about breast milk, I’d have thought that the person has a weird fetish. Now I’m consumed by it.

“Do you mind?” I ask, gesturing to her nursing bra.

“Only if you’re quick. And clean. No stains. Class is going to start soon.”

I called her ‘professor’ in a casual way and her eyebrows narrow in my direction. Now isn’t the time for typical formalities, as she’s reminding me with a strong glare. I know she’s in a tough spot and she’d lose her job over this.

Before getting to business, I’m struck by how pretty she is. I’ve always thought she was attractive. But standing so close to her, seeing every detail on her face, makes me appreciate her more. She’s an academic beauty. It could also be our heightened sense of arousal, because make no mistake about it, nipples are an erogenous zone. And I’m about to do inappropriate things to her.

I’ve never handled a nursing bra before, but it seems easy enough. I decide the best approach would be to open both cups so I can handle the breasts simultaneously.

My fingers unclip the cups of her nursing bra.

Professor Chen’s nipples are something out of a porn movie. For such a thin woman with small tits, her nipples jut outward. They’re long, thick, and black. The dark color is what’s most surprising. She’s a fair skinned Chinese woman, but her nipples are as dark as they come. I marvel at them, standing in disbelief for what I’m about to do.