Chapter Eight
The next month was grueling for Robin. The pump was on her t**s all the time, it seemed. Constantly sucking and pulled at them, making them sore and red and tender. She started hating the device and resenting it to the point of having stress dreams about it. The little detail of having borderline nightmares over a breast pump was something she hid from her husband.
But she couldn’t deny how good it felt on her either. The pump wasn’t as good as a mouth, but it did arouse her to the point of wanting to f**k her husband every night—and some mornings as well.
It might have been her imagination but when she looked at herself naked in the mirror every morning, she was positive her little breasts were growing bigger. That was something else she didn’t say to her husband either.
