Beverly didn't know why, but her coffee tasted so good this morning. The next thing she knew, she had polished off her third bowl of cereal, last night's leftover pizza, three apples, and most of a plate of Christmas cookies, chasing down her impromptu feast with the entire carton of that sweet tasting milk.

Fatigued, she leaned back against the refrigerator, still hungry, terribly thirsty, and oddly aroused. There was also the pressure. It started subtly at first, in her chest, but then began to grow. Beverly looked down to see the material of her camisole stretching, bulging outward—her breasts were growing!

She placed her hands on her expanding breasts, to discover that her skin was hot to the touch. She quickly wriggled out of her camisole and tossed it away, then did the same with her panties, hoping that the coolness of the kitchen floor would transfer to her overheated body.

If it helped, she couldn’t feel it. Feeling feverish, she fumbled for the open refrigerator door, found a bottle of mango soda, twisted open the cap, and chugged down the contents. There, that was better. She felt noticeably cooler after her drink, but along with that she felt noticeably heavier in the chest.

God, they’re still growing, she thought, her fever returning, a feeling of delirium with it. She fumbled for another bottle of soda, cracked it open and drank it down, the heat abating slightly, yet the pressure in her breasts increasing the more she drank.

Barely able to think, she hefted a heavy breast. Must weigh ten pounds, she thought. Should…call…ambu…

The delirium rose up in her mind again as the heat returned to her body, most of it centered between her waist and shoulders. She instinctively grabbed another bottle of soda and drank it down, followed by another, her increasingly detached mind barely noticing that her breasts were now larger than any of the melons in the fruit drawer behind her.

Still feverish, she fumbled for another bottle of soda, but there was none to be had. Need…liquid… she managed to think, coherent thought never having been more difficult in her life. She tried to get up, hoping to drink directly from the sink faucet, but her breasts were too heavy and her legs too weak to allow this.

In desperation, she started to cry but no tears came, but she did feel moisture in a most unexpected place. A drop of liquid, warm upon her thigh. Another one after that, then another. Confused, she looked down to see a drop of pearly white liquid forming on the tip of her distended right nipple.

OhmyGodImlactating, she thought, not in fear but in wonder. She brought a hand up to the leaking teat, which was now at least three times longer and thicker at her most aroused. She tugged on it, and was rewarded with a fine spray of white liquid that showered the tile floor between her spread legs.

“Ohhh…” she moaned, as what felt like a hundred little ejaculations elicited a most bovine expression of satisfaction from her. She tugged again, a hundred more mini-gasms causing her body to shake in unparalleled ecstasy.

Panting now, she brought the full udder up to her lips, her arms visibly straining with the effort. “Mmm,” she hummed, the pull on the engorged teat and the taste of her sweet milk overwhelming two senses at once. She sucked again, and was again rewarded with a mouthful of cream and a feeling of euphoria that threatened to make her orgasm on the spot.

She let go the teat and brought the neglected left breast up to her mouth. If anything it was even more sensitive, each pull on the pebbled flesh driving her pleasure while slaking her thirst, each suckle claiming just a little bit more of her rational mind. Time stopped while she drank; no past, no future, all of life reduced to a series of bliss-filled presents where there were no worries or cares.

Beverly sucked and sucked, oblivious to everything but her all-encompassing pleasure, drinking her sweet milk until her belly was full, though her udders were far from empty. Half-exhausted / half-delirious, she let go the teat in her mouth with an audible ‘pop’, and lay back against the refrigerator and fell asleep.

Which is why she failed to notice what happened next. It began with a slight swelling just above her belly—a red rash, two red rashes actually, approximately a foot apart. The rashes quickly took on a circular shape, protruding slightly as the skin around them began swelling. The swellings continued to expand while Beverly slept, increasing in size until they were mirror images of the ones above them, a second pair of udders to double her pleasure as well as her production.





This is the improved (expanded) version of "The Perils (or Perks) of Living With a Geneticist.



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