From Thug To Pornstar: I Reincarnated As Jonny Sins, So What!
Chapter 32: Helping My Daughter’s pump 2

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Helping My Daughter’s pump 2

"Let’s just see if I can get it working again, shall we?" I asked, rubbing my hands comfortingly up and down her back and kissing her hair. She nodded and backed away, letting me into her room and stepping over to her computer to turn down her music. She was wearing a loose black t-shirt, her favourite colour the last few years for the way it minimized her figure, and pink jogging shorts.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, which was normal when she was getting ready for bed, the thick buds of her nipples poking out against her shirt. She took a seat on the edge of her bed, crossing her arms and gingerly cupping herself, whimpering softly.

"Did it just break when you were getting ready for bed?" I asked, kneeling down next to the machine to see what we were dealing with. She already had the owner’s manual out on the floor next to it, obviously having tried some troubleshooting by herself before I got home.

"This afternoon," she shook her head. "It was working fine this morning... but when I got home from class it wouldn’t even turn on! I’ve tried everything!"

I winced again, considering just how full and uncomfortable she must be feeling if she hadn’t been able to express since that morning, and started working through the manual. Not that I didn’t believe her that she’d already done so... but when all you have are straws, you grasp at them as hard as you can.

"Well... that’s the last of it," I reluctantly announced as I came to the end of the manual. "Looks like we’re getting you a new one. I’ll go pick one up as soon as I’m off work tomorrow. You liked this one, right? Until today? Or is there a different model you want me to get you instead?"

"I like this one," she sniffled, and I went to sit beside her, wrapping my arm around her back and pulling her close.

"Have you tried by hand?" I asked, at a loss for what else to suggest.

"It barely works at all!" she nodded slowly, the tears welling up and starting to fall once more. "I got a few tiny little squirts... but they’re too full now! It hurts even more doing it that way than not doing it at all!"

"I know, baby. I know!" I murmured into her hair. "God, I wish there was something I could do to make it better!"

"Umm..." she said, shyly lowering her eyes and biting her lip.

"Chell?" I asked, confused.

Do you think..." she paused, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slow, gathering her courage. "Do you think... maybe you could suck it out?"

"Baby, I..." I began, shocked into silence by the idea and shaking my head.

"Please, Daddy?" she begged, looking up into my eyes once more. "You know I’d never ask if it wasn’t an emergency! It hurts so bad! I need to get my milk out! There’s no way I can wait like this until tomorrow!"

"Are you sure, baby?" I asked doubtfully. "I mean, really, really sure?"

She didn’t speak, but she stood, stepping over to close and lock her door. Then she turned to look at me again, nervously biting her lip, and slowly, deliberately took off her shirt.

I was fair to say I was in shock. Chellie’s breasts had been a fairly central part of our lives for a long time now, dealing with all her various inconveniences.

But in all that time, over all the various doctor’s visits and shopping trips, I’d never actually seen them. They were... well, okay, best just to say it, I suppose... They were fucking incredible! Huge, obviously, especially when the rest of her was so short and slender, but I’d known that part.

Hannah, the girls’ mother, had only ever risen to a largish C-cup, even at her biggest point while breastfeeding. Not that I’d ever had a single complaint in that regard, mind you... but Chellie’s were enormous! And firm, too, way more than breasts that size had any right to be, even if she was still young enough she had yet to start worrying about the effects of gravity.

Her skin was flawless; pale, with soft pink areolas about the size of old silver dollars, erect and immensely suckable-looking nipples the size of nickles.

That was Hannah’s Swedish genetics coming through, no doubt about that... my girls were every bit as blonde-haired and grey-eyed as she’d been. There was maybe just the tiniest touch of my blue in that grey, under just the right lighting... but their hair was one hundred percent their mother’s, not a trace of my black.

"Are they okay, Daddy?" she asked, breaking me out of my thoughts as she lowered her eyes to look at herself. "Only... you were kind of staring, a little."

"They’re beautiful, baby. Just like the rest of you," I reassured her, swallowing past a sudden lump in my throat. "Sorry if I was staring."

"That’s okay," she said, a tiny smile quirking the corner of her mouth, there for a flash and then gone again.

She seemed frozen in place, and I extended my hand, letting her take it and slowly drawing her towards me on the bed. I sat back a little further, and she paused again, then climbed tentatively into my lap straddling me.

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry in my nervousness. I looked questioningly into her eyes one more time, and she just nodded quietly, her hands on my shoulders. I put my hands on her hips, sliding my right slowly upwards.

Time seemed to extend... an hour elapsed in the space of perhaps five seconds. Then I was cupping her, feeling the weight of her in my hand. I felt her fingers in my hair, stroking, applying gentle pressure downwards. I bent my head, feeling the subtle warmth of her nipple in the barest kiss of my lips, and opened my mouth to take it inside.