From Thug To Pornstar: I Reincarnated As Jonny Sins, So What!
Chapter 31: Helping My Daughter’s pump 1

Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Helping My Daughter’s pump 1

After everything Jonny quickly wasted not a single time and he rushed to work.

He was give his script to study before moving into action

[Authors note: this is a very nice scene and I feel it will be best experienced if it’s in first person POV]

Introduction:

A man’s lactating teenage daughter breaks her pump, and he has no choice but to help drain her painfully full, milky breasts by himself.

...

I yawned as I stepped through the door to the house, tossing my wallet and keys on the side table, rolling my shoulders and tilting my head side to side.

I really hate parent-teacher nights; the parents you actually need to talk to never show up, and the ones who do always end up wasting your time, peppering you with pointless, repetitive questions.

How many ways are there to say ’your kid is doing fine, chill out’? At least they’d scheduled it on a Thursday this time, and I only had to survive one more day before I’d have the weekend to recharge.

I sighed, shaking my head, and headed for the kitchen, finding the remains of the pizza I’d had the girls order sitting in the fridge, grabbing a slice and deciding to eat it cold.

I’d gone out for an early supper with the rest of the math department the way we always did on parent-teacher nights, but that had been hours ago, and I needed the snack.

Besides which, it gave me something to do while I continued the process of shedding the night’s stress before I’d go and tell the girls that I was home.

I smiled happily, as I always did at the thought of my girls. It was just the three of us, ever since my wife died in a car accident when they’d been little.

I hadn’t known how we were going to make it, especially with the girls being so young at the time.

But somehow, with plenty of help from family and colleagues, not to mention from the girls themselves, we’d pulled together and made it through. I still feel guilty, thinking about how that tragedy had aged them both beyond their years... but I couldn’t possibly be more proud of the beautiful, mature young women they had become.

I went and knocked on my youngest’s door first, careful to wait for the response before I entered; that was an iron-clad rule at our house, instituted a couple of years back after the pair of them had stormed into my room looking for a referee during a fight they’d been having, and they’d nearly seen much more than they’d wanted to while I was getting changed.

"Hi, Daddy! How was it tonight?" Andi twisted and smiled up at me from where she was lounged out on her bed with her phone.

I could hardly believe she was a senior in high school now—eighteen already, but she still looked so much younger, at least to me! However old she got, I couldn’t quite get the image of her as a little girl playing with her dollies out of my mind.

She was already ready for bed, her loose cotton sleep shirt having ridden up enough to reveal the cute little pink cotton panties she was wearing underneath. I studiously avoided noticing as I sat down beside her; it was a skill, and one I was good at.

You couldn’t survive long as a male high school teacher without learning how not to notice the bodies of teenage girls, even when they were doing everything they possibly could to make you notice them. Keeping my eyes averted from my daughter’s accidental panty-flash was a piece of cake, in comparison.

"Don’t get me started!" I smirked, caressing her side, leaning down to give her a kiss in her hair. "You girls throw a big party while I was out?"

"Huge!" she agreed with a giggle, then suddenly grew serious, chewing on her lip. "Did you tell ’Chellie you’re home yet? ’Cause I think there might be something wrong with her. She’s barely come out of her room since she got home."

"Any idea what it is?" I asked, echoing her concern.

"Boys, maybe?" she shrugged. "She wouldn’t tell me. She’s just been hiding in her room with her music turned up."

"Guess we’ll see if I have any better luck. Don’t stay up too late, okay? And thanks for telling me."

"I won’t. Night, Daddy. Love you!"

"Love you too, sweetheart," I said, leaning down again to give her another kiss in her hair before pushing myself to my feet. I closed her door behind me, noticing just how loud Chellie’s music actually was as I got closer to her door.

"Chellie? I’m home." I called, knocking firmly to make sure she’d hear me. I waited, and was just about to knock again when the door was thrown open and my eldest came barrelling out to fling herself against my chest. The girls were both within a hair of five-two, and skinny, just like their mom had been, but even at six-one and fairly muscular Chellie still hit me with enough momentum to set me back on my heels.

"I broke my pump!" she wailed, sobbing, and I winced in sympathy as I suddenly understood.

Michelle has a medical condition. It isn’t anything dangerous, thank God, but she has a hormone issue that kicked in when she hit puberty, causing increased breast development and making her lactate.

Not an easy thing for a young girl to go through, especially one who didn’t have a mom around anymore to help her through it. She’d impressed the hell out of me though, with the way she’d coped; I’d been a total basket case until the doctors ruled out the possibility of breast cancer as the cause, but Chellie had been a rock throughout.

We’ve gotten pretty used to dealing with it all now, with her lactation pump, and her special E-cup bras with the replaceable milk shields to keep her from leaking through. She still gets really self-conscious at all the attention her breasts bring her, not just from boys her own age, but from grown men, too. And she hates that we have to go bra shopping for her in maternity stores! But other than that, she’s mostly doing okay. With a broken pump, though...

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