Simran’s thighs pressed together under the table. She was hanging on every word, her own body still sensitive from the morning’s milking and the denied orgasm earlier.
“Was he big? Did you touch him? Did Shikha enjoy it?”
Preeti leaned closer, voice dropping.
“He was thick. Really thick. Shikha was shaking when he first pushed in. I held her hand the whole time… and yes, I touched him. I stroked him while he was inside her. It was the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.”
The two women talked for a long time, laughing, whispering, blushing. The wine flowed. The food was excellent. But all Simran could think about was how badly she wanted to experience something like that herself.
And how close she already was.
The two women were seated at a quiet, shaded corner table in the beautiful open-air section of Virgin Courtyard. Soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, and a gentle fountain bubbled nearby. Their food had just arrived — grilled prawns, truffle mushroom pasta, and a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc already half empty between them.
Preeti took a slow sip of wine, then set the glass down and leaned in with a small, almost shy smile.
“Actually… I didn’t touch his shaft,” she admitted, cheeks turning a soft pink. “I wanted to. God, I wanted to so badly. My hand was this close a few times while he was inside Shikha, but I held back. I didn’t want to cross that line without talking to her first.”
Simran’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.
“You did? But… I thought…”
Preeti gave a soft, honest laugh and shrugged.
“Yes, I am… or at least I used to go both ways. Quite actively, before Shikha. I was with men too for years. But after we got together seriously, I stopped. She’s enough for me now. Still… watching Arjun fuck her so deep and so good that night awakened something in me. It was incredibly hot.”
Simran took a big sip of wine, processing everything, her cheeks warm.
Preeti’s expression turned gentler, more caring, as she looked at her friend.
“Enough about me. How’s my cow doing?” she asked playfully, eyes flicking briefly to Simran’s chest. “How’s the milk situation? Still leaking like crazy?”
Simran shifted in her seat, suddenly self-conscious.
“It’s… okay,” she said quietly.
Preeti wasn’t convinced. She leaned closer.
“Simran. Tell me the truth. Did it stop?”
Simran hesitated, then shook her head slowly.
“Not really. Actually… it has increased. A lot.”
Preeti’s eyebrows rose.
“Seriously? Then how are you managing? The breast pump is still working, right?”
Simran stared at her wine glass for a long moment, fingers tracing the stem.
“The pump… it worked for a few days, but it’s not enough anymore. It hurts too much and doesn’t empty me completely.”
Preeti studied her friend’s face carefully.
“Is Ravi helping you with it?”
The question hung in the air.
Simran went quiet. She looked down, biting her lower lip hard. Preeti waited patiently, gently squeezing her hand across the table.
After a long silence and several soft prompts from Preeti, Simran finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
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