"Yes, that bad!" I glared at her, flustered by the sudden wetness, the way it trickled warmly down my skin. "Ana, look what you did! It's... it's everywhere now."
She didn't pull away—instead, she rubbed her thumb over the soaked fabric, smearing the milk teasingly, her touch turning the mess into something deliberate, sensual. "Mmm, see? Already leaking for me like a good girl. That's the milk working its magic—sweet, creamy perfection, making you so slick and responsive. Bigger breasts mean more of this, fuller and ready to burst at my command. Feel how it eases the pressure? That's the benefit—relief and pleasure, all in one."
"And you're saying they're going to get bigger?" My voice hitched, torn between shock and the undeniable thrill sparking through my veins, my body arching into her hand despite myself.
