Licking Zara's Breast Milk

A breast cast is made when a woman allows fresh plaster to be spread across her chest, and when it hardens over a period of time, it creates a perfect mold of her feminine features.

It's pure art where mother nature is the true star.

This process has been used by women with breast cancer for either their personal memories or public displays. The end result is a sculpted creation of their breasts that exists for as long as the cast remains.

Zara Ebadi was inspired by those powerful stories; she was being told about this by a fellow teacher during the making of a private portrait. Instead of dressing up, Zara wore the same buttoned top and jean pants she usually wore to work. A teacher's outfit if there ever was one.

She remained motionless while they talked. Her dark hair was carefully splayed over her shoulder, her mocha skin was shining from the light outside through the window, and her face pointed towards the wall.

They were in the art classroom and school had already been closed for a week for the start of the holiday season. Most teachers left, some hung around to finish grading along with other miscellaneous duties. Zara opted to hang around. She was a newly hired English teacher and she still wanted to make a great impression with the Principal and her colleagues. She also enjoyed the comradery with Ms. Taylor, the highly respected art instructor.

"It's really that simple," Ms. Taylor said, dressed in a painting coat while making the portrait of Zara. "I'm thinking of starting my own charity program for it. A gift-giving thing, free of charge."

"That's so endearing," Zara replied in awe, still facing the wall. "It's heartwarming."

"I know, it is. Hang on, I'm almost done. Just putting the final touches."

The sound of a paintbrush hitting the canvas echoed in the room. It was the only sound there. Zara loved these quiet moments when something was being created, and frankly, it was always flattering to see a finished portrait of herself.

"I can almost hear your brain thinking," Zara joked, while maintaining the proper pose.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?"

"You're so talented with this."

"And you're so beautiful," Ms. Taylor countered. "There, all done. Have a look."

Finally breaking the pose, Zara got up and they stood side by side, looking at the briefly made portrait. As far as 20 minutes goes, this was some of the best work a person could do.

Zara nodded her approval. "Nice one. You're a gem."

"An artist is only as good as the person being painted, in my opinion. As far as models go, you're terrific. There's a reason I love painting you."

"You're too sweet."

"Are you sure you've never modeled before?" Ms. Taylor asked with a playful and skeptical squint.

Zara laughed off the compliment. "Without a doubt, I can say that I've never modeled before, well, as far as I know of. Unless someone was doing portraits of me without my knowledge."

"You exude a natural confidence. I mean, look at this painting. You have a natural glow which practically radiates off this canvas."

The art teacher was adamant about this claim and made a grand gesture towards the portrait.

"First of all," Zara said. "You're the one that painted this, so I feel like you're just complimenting yourself."

"Maybe a bit."

"Secondly, I feel like you're buttering me up. Like you're prepping me for a bigger task to come."

"What gives you that idea?" Ms. Taylor asked, eyebrow raised.

"The fact that we've been doing this for weeks, now all of a sudden I'm the next Mona Lisa."

"Well, to be honest, there was something I've been thinking about lately. And I've only become certain of it this past hour."

"I knew it," Zara said with a knowing nod. "Go ahead, give it to me."

"What do you think of my breast casting story? You know, women with cancer who want to memorialize their figure."

"Like I said, it was moving to hear about. I can only imagine what kind of resilience a woman would need in that situation."

Ms. Taylor seemed emboldened. "I want to organize a gift-giving program for these women. I have plenty of experience using plaster."

"God, that's amazing," Zara said with brightened eyes. "Why didn't you tell me before? Need anything? I'd love to donate my time."

"I'd love your help. But it has nothing to do with your college degrees."

Zara's interest was piqued. "Come on, spill it."

"You can offer your breasts to me," Ms. Taylor stated. "I've never done plaster on a person's body before, much less a pair of breasts. We have great chemistry and I think you're beautiful. On top of that, you're fearless."

Defensively, Zara put her hand over her chest. "A portrait is one thing, but come on."

It instantly dawned on her that although she was the much younger one in their friendship, she had now become the most prudish. It was usually the other way around. It was usually Zara who had to teach Ms. Taylor about the latest phone apps, tv shows, and slang that young people use nowadays.

Nudity, it seems, is where the roles were reversed.

"Ah, my mistake," Ms. Taylor blushed and smiled. "I guess I was wrong."

Zara gave an awkward shrug. "You caught me way off guard. I'm assuming you've made topless or nude portraits before."

"Throughout college, my early adulthood, and I still make them sometimes on the weekends for art shows. Nothing beats it, really."

"I remember being in college hanging around my artist friends. They've mentioned the same thing, that nude portraits are unbeatable."

Ms. Taylor flashed a skeptical look again. "You had artist friends in college and none of them tried to paint you?"

"I never said that," Zara replied humorously. "Sure, they did try to paint me or take pictures of me. At that age, I was a much different person. Even if it was just a few years ago."

"Well, it's too bad you're not interested. I was truly hoping you'd do it."

"You must know tons of nude models with all your connections."

"But they don't have breasts like you."

Zara softly touched her chest. "These are standard affairs. I can assure you of that. Plus they're quite milky at the moment. Trust me, it'll be a wet mess if you ever tried to plaster them."

"Can I be blunt?" Ms. Taylor asked with eager eyes. "The fact that your breasts have milk are precisely why I want to work with you."

"Oh?"

"I think about it like this; if I can manage to successfully plaster your breasts, then I know I'm gentle enough to work with any woman. Because some of these women are up there in age, or other health reasons. So I thought the extra challenge of experimenting with lactating boobs would be good practice."

It made all the sense in the world and suddenly Zara felt guilty for even turning down the offer in the first place.

"How exactly would this work?" Zara gently inquired. "I mean, is the plaster cold? Will it hurt? Are you going to be staring at my nipples up close for a long time?"

"To answer your questions, it's slightly cold, and I'm not sure how it'll feel on breasts. I've never done it before. And for your last question -- yes -- I'll be looking at your boobs up close. I'll even be touching them, too."

"I must sound like the biggest prude in the world."

Ms. Taylor laughed. "It's perfectly understandable. Exposing breasts is an unusual thing to do. But it's for a great cause."

"An amazing cause."

"It really is. I've only learned about this recently from some friends of mine in the art community. I've spent a lot of my free time thinking about it, and with school out, there's plenty of time to work my magic."

"You do have a lot of magic in your hands," Zara said. "Alright, you've got me. Count me in."

Ms. Taylor flashed a generous smile. "I knew you couldn't resist. Your heart is simply too big."

"Well, that's not the only thing that's too big. I have to confess now."

"What do you mean?"

"These kitties," Zara joked, gesturing to her chest. "They're pretty swollen, and I don't mean my cup size."

"Huge nipples?"

"Gumdrops."

"Sounds delicious and chewable," Ms. Taylor said with deadpan humor.

Zara's jaw hung down. "Oh my god. I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Fair enough. If you're still interested, then how about... let's say... Wednesday at 10 am? I'll have everything ready by then and I'll brush up on some old techniques for plastering."

"Just don't gawk at my nipples. And definitely don't chew on them or call them delicious."

"I'll try."

***

Symmetrically cut strips of dried plaster cloth were neatly arranged on a desk, right next to a bowl of water and there was also a new container of petroleum jelly. As with any art room, there was a massive roll of paper towels ready to be used.

This was Zara's first time leaving home without a bra underneath, and to school of all places. But she wore a thick sweater so no one would notice. She also had a thin sweater underneath for good measure.

Pacing around the classroom, she wondered what her friend had in store for her today. Surely it would be something exciting. They'd definitely be a lot closer with each other after this.

"Where does your confidence come from," Ms. Taylor asked, wearing her famous art coat while finishing preparations. "Some models just do it. Some have a particular mindset. I'm curious, what's your approach to all this? You make a great model."

"You have such an inquisitive mind. That's partly why I enjoy modeling so much for you. Because we can talk."

"Thank you. Anything else?"

Pacing the room, Zara thought. "My mother is Persian, and I mean, she's the old school kind. She still comes to my house so she can stuff my refrigerator full of her home cooking."

"Ah, I know the type."

"Yes, but anyway, I was born in Iran and came here for school. I had trouble fitting in. You know, the works. Whatever you can think of, that's what I was going through. One day, my mother sat me down in front of a mirror and highlighted my facial features and hair, telling me how special they are. And you know what? Positive reinforcement works."

"Your mother sounds like an amazing woman."

"She is," Zara confirmed. "And you know what the best part is? After all those compliments she'd give me, she'd always tell me that my appearance is the least interesting thing about me. That my mind and soul are the real stars. Not for vanity purposes, of course, but it's just something nice that everyone wants to hear about themselves. I guess that's why I'm so comfortable sitting in front of you for long periods."

"Because I'm just like your mother?" Ms. Taylor laughed.

Zara laughed back. "Close enough. But yes, in many ways. You have a certain ability to disarm people and make them feel at ease."

"I'm glad. Because now, I'm going to have to ask you to take your top off."

"Everything? Now."

"Yes and yes. Bare breasts please."

Although there were a few teachers and administrators in the building, they were far away in their offices, and the door to this room was locked. No one would be looking for them and they had all the privacy they needed. There was a large window which had a view of the mountains and Zara focused on it.

She pulled her large sweater away to reveal her thin sweater, which showed the shape of her breasts.

Pinching the fabric around her shoulder area, Zara pulled her top off to expose her bare chest. They were generously sized. As she had warned the other day, her nipples were very large. They were also very dark, nearly black, which was easy to contrast against her mocha-colored skin.

The moment Zara bared her breasts, she noticed a look of wonder in her friend's eyes. But she tried to ignore it. She knew her mentor was the utmost professional and had seen countless naked bodies.

"Impressive," Ms. Taylor said in a nearly hoarse voice.

Zara giggled. "The shape? Or my nipples?"

"Mainly your nipples, if I'm being honest. It'll make one unique breast cast."

"Yikes. A cast with some real pointers at each tip. Promise me you won't put my name on the cast."

"Embarrassed about your gifts?" Ms. Taylor asked.

"People will think the nipples are fake."

"First, we'll have to find out, won't we? Have a seat on this stool. I'm going to slather your chest with vaseline. Then I'll apply the wet strips of plaster cloth to your breasts, as delicately as I can so milk doesn't squirt out. Ready?"

"That's what I came here for."

Topless, Zara went to the stool to sit down. She watched her mentor dip her fingers into a container of vaseline for a generous serving. Zara felt her heart beating faster as Ms. Taylor stared closely at her big, dark nipples.

The first touch came quickly. It was a soft touch. Zara resisted the urge to gasp as a fellow teacher rubbed the vaseline on her breasts. It felt cold, but it felt nice. It was almost like a breast massage. The fingers rubbed and pressed into Zara's skin. All around her upper chest, her breast tissue, and the underside of her breasts too. Everywhere except her nipples. She knew that would be last.

Zara watched those talented fingers dip for more vaseline. She watched those astute eyes examine her nipples.

With a quick touch, Zara felt her left nipple being rubbed in circles. The same process was repeated with her right nipple. Her nipples turned rock hard and she was afraid to even look at them. But she saw the look on Ms. Taylor's face; this teacher was enamored by the sight.

With each touch, Zara could feel her milk being tempted to release. She could feel the pressure rising.

Especially from her own arousal.

"This may be a challenge," Ms. Taylor said with critical eyes on the breasts.

"Why is that?"

"I can see tiny drops of milk forming at your pores. It's a remarkable thing to see up close, but I'm not sure how it'll affect the plaster."

Zara blushed. "I should have warned you. They're sensitive to touch and feel."

"All the more reason I need to be more delicate with this. It's good practice for me. Now, let's go a bit further."

She watched the art teacher wipe her hands with a paper towel, eyes still on the exposed breasts. Grabbing an extra sheet, the older teacher wiped the excess milk from the pores and tips of Zara's nipples. It felt rough against her most sensitive parts, but it was done with the utmost consideration.

Remaining still, Zara watched the fellow teacher take a sheet of dry plaster cloth and dipped it into the bowl of water. She wondered how cold it would feel against her skin, but it didn't matter.

The excess water dripped from the cloth for a few seconds, before being brought to her upper chest. Because of the vaseline, it stuck to her skin. It was cold and it made her nipples turn harder. This same process was repeated for a few minutes, creating a wet casing around Zara's chest. From the top of her chest, to the sides, to the lower part, Zara's skin was being covered by the thick plaster, and all that remained were her breasts and hard nipples.

"Wish me luck," Ms. Taylor said. "This is where it gets dicey."

"I must say, your hands are so skilled."

Looking down for the first time, Zara noted how aligned everything was across her chest.

"Use the mirror," Ms. Taylor said, walking over to pull the body-length mirror in their direction.

It was then that Zara truly took a good look at herself. It was incredibly artistic, yet oddly sexual. Her face had little makeup, she wore her usual pants, but her chest was encased in the wet plaster with her vaseline-covered nipples looking so prominent. Her tits were shiny!

"My god," Zara gasped. "This looks like a porn movie."

"We haven't even gotten to the good part yet," Ms. Taylor smiled.

They turned their attention back to their work. Ms. Taylor dipped another sheet into the water and let the excess water drip.

A short moment of truth lingered between them as Zara watched the art teacher carefully contemplate how to attack. This next sheet was going straight to her breast. The underside of her left tit.

It was pressed gently at first, lifting Zara's breast. But it needed to be pressed harder for it to stick.

Ms. Taylor carefully pressed the wet plaster even harder.

Zara's breast sprayed a healthy dose of milk onto the teacher's face.

"Oh my god," Zara gasped in utter horror.

She watched in disbelief as Ms. Taylor now had a face full of white milk, squinting hard as it had gotten into her eyes, dripping down her face.

"I'm okay," Ms. Taylor replied, eyes still shut.

The art teacher, while blinded, was able to reach for paper towels, which she used to dry herself.

"I... I don't know how that happened," Zara quickly offered. "I pumped my breasts before I came here."

Ms. Taylor tossed the paper towel away. "Breasts are wonderful things for a reason. They provide nourishment, which, I should tell you tastes pretty good."

They both giggled awkwardly as some of the milk had made its way into the art teacher's mouth.

"Now what?" Zara asked. "Are you going to find a different model? Or are there other techniques to get the plaster on me?"

"That's the only technique I know of. I had already told my friends of my gift-giving plans. It would be embarrassing if I backed out now."

"So you're going to find a different model?"

"Not a chance," Ms. Taylor replied. "I need to perfect my skills and hone my ability to treat each breast delicately. Why don't we regroup and try again on Friday? Are you still interested?"

"I live for charity. Besides you've already seen so much. The cat is already out of the bag, so to speak."

"More like the milk is out of the breast."

The laughed awkwardly again before ending their session. Together, they pulled off the cast and threw it in the trash. With help from Ms. Taylor, they used wet paper towels to wipe the excess vaseline from her breasts.

It could only be done by the large sink, because each time her breasts were wiped clean, milk would spurt from her nipples.

Although embarrassing at first, Zara grew comfortable around her friend.

***

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Ms. Taylor said from behind a dressing curtain in the art room. "Now that I know what we're dealing with, I have to be more prepared."

"Makes sense. I'm still mortified by that mess I left on your face."

Zara paced the room, wondering what the new game plan was. Like the other day, supplies were neatly arranged on the table and they were almost ready for another round of body plastering.

"I think I might have to take more precautions," Ms. Taylor said while behind the curtains. "Do you mind if I take a few liberties in getting comfortable? I don't want to shock you."

"Oh? And how would you shock me?"

"I want to take my clothes off. Do you mind? I do it all the time when it comes to nude modeling. It forms a more cohesive mood in my opinion."

There were ruffling noises coming from behind the curtains and Zara wondered if this was a joke.

"Umm, sure," Zara replied, wondering if this was real. "That doesn't bother me."

"Fantastic. I'm more comfortable this way."

Sounds of clothing shuffling and/or being removed became louder, making Zara feel even more confused about the day's events.

And then it happened.

Stepping out of the dress curtains, Ms. Taylor wore her painting coat, and nothing else. She was barefoot and her legs showed. She was thick around the midsection. The center of her chest was bare. Most striking of all, her curly pubic hairs were on glorious display.

"You actually did it," Zara said, with her head nearly snapping back.

"I did give you fair warning. Does it bother you? I can always get dressed again."

"No, no. It's fine."

"It's European. I spent a lot of time there in my youth and this is how we made art with each other."

Zara tried not to stare at the bush. "That makes sense."

"Now let's get started," Ms. Taylor said, unabashed with her own nudity while approaching their work station. "I got some advice from Shoshana this morning. She gave me some tips on what to do."

Zara discreetly fluttered at the thought of Shoshana being involved in all this, being mildly intimidated by the mature math teacher, known for a stoic and serious demeanor. The woman had a strangely powerful sexual aura too, if Zara was being honest with herself.

"Awesome. Has Shoshana done this before?"

Ms. Taylor gave a cryptic expression. "Not exactly. But let's just say she knows what she speaks of. Let me text her to see if she's in her classroom. She's only here for a while. I know she's busy."

"Oh, okay."

"Mind taking your top off in the meantime? This will be quick and I'll be right with you."

"Sure."

Zara was slightly mystified at the situation. Not only was she staring at the pubic hairs of her mentor, but now, there was a real possibility of yet another teacher getting involved.

Not wanting to make a fuss, she removed her thick sweater. Then her thin sweater. Then her tshirt.

She stood topless in the classroom. It was much easier this time since she had more experience with it and they had already broken the ice with their nudity. Her nipples slightly turned erect from the exposure.

Suddenly, Ms. Taylor's eyes lit up from the texts. "Excellent. We're in luck. Shoshana is in her classroom and she's summoning us."

"What? Now?"

"That's why we're in luck," Ms. Taylor winked. "I need an expert in the matter to assist. Your breasts are trickier than I expected."

"I... didn't think there'd be anyone else involved."

"Do you not like Shoshana?"

"Just the opposite," Zara replied. "I think she's amazing. That's kind of the problem. I mean, look at me."

She gestured down to her own bare chest.

"Nonsense. Shoshana has seen plenty. Let's go. We only have a short time before she has to leave."

When Ms. Taylor put the stack of plaster sheets in her large coat pocket and carried the bowl of water and paper towels, she headed towards the door, wearing nothing but the coat.

"Wait, wait, wait," Zara said emphatically. "Did you forget that you're naked and I'm like this?"

Ms. Taylor gave a small smile. "Zara, the school is closed. On this side of the building, it's only us ladies. It'll be fine."

"How do you know? We could get fired if anyone found out."

"We won't. You're still new here. You'll learn."

The innuendo struck Zara like a ton of bricks.

"You're joking."

"Follow me," Ms. Taylor said. "Trust me."

Barefoot, the art teacher went to the door and headed down the hall. The speed of her walk caused her coat to open slightly with each step.

Zara followed, using both hands to cover her bare breasts. They walked side by side. Looking to her side, Zara saw the confidence in Ms. Taylor's walk; the coat seemed to open, which exposed a heavy sagging breast with a big pink nipple. It was unmitigated confidence.

It immediately became clear that they wouldn't be caught. At this time of year, no one was around. They passed classroom after classroom. They all looked the same. Empty.

They reached their destination down the hall. With the door open, there was Shoshana sitting at her desk, wearing thick-framed glasses while grading papers. Tall and voluptuous, with a serious gaze, she could intimidate anyone.

Shoshana looked up when they entered the room. The math teacher was unphased by the brazen nude walk. She welcomed them to her classroom and explained that she was short on time because of other school-related obligations she had elsewhere.

"We appreciate your time," Ms. Taylor said, then gesturing towards Zara's breasts. "These are what I was referring to. Shapely breasts. Sensitive when it comes to expressing milk. And I haven't had a chance to see how the plaster would react to those very large nipples."

Catching the drift, Zara put her hands down and showed both of the veteran teachers her breasts. Her nipples were swollen. The women stared intently at her chest as if this were a science project.

When Shoshana spoke, it felt like a surreal moment. 'We'll have to drain them. Milk production is fast, which is why breast pumping before coming here doesn't work. It needs to be freshly done.'

Other words followed, such as 'orally'... 'suck'... and 'feed.'

Zara snapped out of her trance to comment. "I'm sure that'll work. I know my breasts certainly calm down after being drained."

"Did you pump this morning," Ms. Taylor asked.

Zara innocently nodded. "They recharge quickly though."

Things took a more serious turn when Ms. Taylor smiled at both women.

"Our gift-giving operation won't work if we just stand around here talking about it. Zara, can you please sit on the stool?"

The stool was the teacher's stool in front of the class, next to the podium. The veteran teachers gave each other a knowing expression, as if they knew a dirty little secret.

Nervously, Zara sat down on the stool and faced the rows of empty seats. She maintained a good posture, hands down, chin up. Her breasts were pointed forward and waiting to be drained.

When the two teachers approached her, standing on each side of her breasts, her heart rate skyrocketed and her pussy became wet. These were women whom she admired on a personal and professional level. Now here they were, with hungry eyes and open mouths.

"My nipples are swollen," Zara said with a low breath. "If we're serious about this gift-giving plan, then we should do whatever it takes for a good cause. After all, we need the experience of dealing with a variety of breasts."

Ms. Taylor inched her mouth closer. "Absolutely. Certain types of art require a base level of experience. We can't get that experience if these breasts are still full. And by the looks of things, there's plenty of draining to do."

The art teacher blew air across the dark nipple, making it turn fully erect. Zara gasped, then her nipple was sucked by a mature adult, making her moan. Following suit, the math teacher sucked the other nipple and Zara was in a state of utter shock at what was happening.

On one side, Ms. Taylor was bent over sucking the nipple, her coat opened and her heavyset breasts hung down. On the other side, Shoshana was nursing with those thick-framed glasses still prominent on her face.

It was the first time Zara had ever had both nipples sucked at the same time. It nearly made her eyes roll back in pleasure. Nipples of that size were tremendously sensitive and each of her past lovers knew it. A few times in her life, she had almost reached orgasm from a lover just sucking on her tits.

With each passing second, Zara became more and more at ease with this whole process. Clearly these two mature teachers had done this before. These women were experienced when it came to sucking on a grown woman's nipples. They had no qualms or hesitations about it, pressing their lips so tight around each nipple, sucking so hard, and occasionally stroking their tongues across it.

Milk flowed freely from her nipples and Zara almost felt mortified that the most respected and distinguished teachers at this school were now drinking from her. She watched in near horror as the sides of their mouths showed signs of leakage; faint traces of white milk nearly dripping from the sides of their lips.

The respectable teachers kept on nursing.

Yes, they had done this before.

"We can always pump the rest," Zara breathed deeply. "Into the sink so you two don't have to taste me... if this... ummm... makes either of you uncomfortable."

Ms. Taylor looked up and swirled her tongue. "This is part of the process. Besides, you're delicious."

Shoshana affirmed that notion with a simple 'Mmm Hmm' while continuing to suck.

The tension was getting so high that Ms. Taylor casually pulled her art coat off, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her voluptuous body in full, with her pink nipples rock hard.

On the other side, Zara saw Shoshana looking up at her while nursing. Even with a dark nipple in her mouth, Shoshana still had a menacing gaze through those thick-framed glasses.

Breathing harder, Zara could practically feel beads of sweat forming across her head and upper chest. She kept telling herself that this was for charity and the generous acts of giving gifts to strangers in need.

It was mostly true.

But as the respectable teachers kept on sucking -- then started using their hands to rub and squeeze at her breasts -- Zara had to be honest with herself. This was sexual. Apparently there was more than meets the eye with some of the teachers at this school, if they were brazen enough to do things like this during winter break.

"Slow down," Zara moaned, with her eyes nearly rolling back.

"Why?" Ms. Taylor asked, briefly pulling her mouth away to reveal a mouth coated with milk, then taking big licks of the dark nipple.

"I think you can tell."

Ms. Taylor swiped her tongue across the areola. "Are you going to cum?"

"Almost. I don't think it's something either of you want to see."

The women's eyes lit up, especially Shoshana's through those thick glasses. Yes, they wanted it already. Zara knew what kind of women she was dealing with now.

"Comfort is an essential part of making body casts," Ms. Taylor said, in between planting kisses around the mocha colored breast. "We'll help you take your pants off. It's okay. It's just between us."

The women pulled their mouths away, using their hands to rub Zara's brown skin, before moving down to undo her pants. Ms. Taylor undid her jeans, while Shoshana bent down to remove the shoes and socks.

Barefoot, Zara stood up so that her pants could be pulled down by both teachers in a team effort. Her panties came down at the same time.

The teachers got a good look at Zara's curvy hips and crotch which had been shaved a week ago, showing traces of stubble. Zara's dark labia were prominent and her clitoris was swollen.

She sat down on the stool again. The teachers kissed the sides of her cheek, chin, neck, upper shoulders, before going back to work on her dark and swollen nipples. Milk shot out again when they squeezed at her tits, and they happily savored every drop of the delicious beverage.

Only this time, while using one hand to rub and squeeze her breasts, they used their free hand to slip down to her pussy. Zara spread her legs, embracing this, while the teachers played with her wet pussy.

As her lactating breasts were being sucked, the hands of the prim teachers nearly wrestled and struggled for access to Zara's pussy. It was almost like a competition for Zara's aching clitoris. And in the end, the women were cordial about it, taking turns to rub and massage the clit. They even took turns rubbing Zara's dark labia, before taking turns to penetrate her pink hole.

"My breasts are nearly drained," Zara moaned to the fellow teachers. "I'm also going to cum if you two keep this up."

Ms. Taylor let milk run down her chin. "What's art without pleasure? Go ahead, cum first, then we'll make our breast cast."

The veteran teachers formed a plan amongst themselves. Shoshana would be in charge of squeezing both breasts to drain the milk, while sucking on each nipple to full effect. And Ms. Taylor would use her talented and skilled fingers to work the wet pussy. It was teamwork at its finest.

Looking down, Zara's eyes were locked with Shoshana's. The older math teacher had sharp eyes, with cheeks that nearly looked caved in from sucking each nipple deeply, one after the other. Back and forth. The mature teacher used to her tongue as well to lick and circle around each nipple, drinking everything that sprayed or dripped into her mouth.

In her pussy, Zara felt the magical hands of Ms. Taylor going to work. The naked art teacher used the fingers in one hand to stroke the labia up and down, while using two fingers on her other hand to quickly rub the clitoris in circles. Occasionally, the two fingers would slip inside Zara's wet hole, making her eyes roll back.

"You two will be the death of me," Zara nearly laughed while her body felt like it was in a frenzy. "Oh my god."

Ms. Taylor briefly pulled her hands away to pull a long stretch of paper towel, then brought it to below Zara's pussy, before rubbing again, this time faster.

The teachers went even harder, being pros at this. Zara's nipples were being sucked so hard, one at a time, that they stretched into Shoshana's mouth to squirt milk. Her pussy felt like it was on fire the way two hands worked in unison to give her the ultimate pleasure.

Zara tossed her hair back and struggled to maintain seated on the tall stool. Her lips quivered and her toes curled. Her butt clenched on the hard seat and she felt her pussy gushing the way her nipples had. Never before had she felt an orgasm like this. It was a true sensory overload of touch and feel. And the fact that she respected these teachers so much had a lot to do with it.

Every muscle in her body clenched and contracted. Her pussy gushed several times. Her breaths were so deep.

After she came, she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she saw the two teachers standing side by side, one naked, one peering through thick-framed glasses. Both had wet lips from her milk.

She looked down at her own body. Her nipples were still hard and elongated from being sucked so powerfully. Milk had dripped down across her breasts, onto her belly, and down her legs. Her pussy absolutely soaked the paper towels on the seat and stained the floor.

Zara was speechless.

"We're ready to work," Ms. Taylor said affirmatively. "We'll need to dry your breasts before we can apply the vaseline."

Once again using teamwork, the two teachers used paper towels to wipe away the milk and saliva combination. When satisfied, they got their fingers ready with vaseline and applied it generously across Zara's breasts.

After that big orgasm, Zara felt so confident sitting there naked while these amazing women experimented on her body for the gift project.

Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking on the hallway tile floor nearly sent Zara into a panic. It came closer and closer. From the sound of those heels, it could only have been one person.

However, Zara stopped panicking because both of the teachers remained calm, working together to apply the first plaster cloth to the underside of her breasts. This time, it worked, and the plaster cloth stuck to her breast without shooting any milk.

Principal Myers stopped at the doorway, with impossibly tall heels on her feet, and tilted her glasses downward to look at this with her bare eyes. She held a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, and a binder in the other. Apparently, the sight of two naked teachers was of zero concern to her.

"Keep up the excellent work, ladies," Principal Myers said. "You make me so proud of your charitable giving. Carry on."

And with that, the heels of the Principal walked away.

"There's a lot I don't know," Zara said, flabbergasted by everything that was happening. "But I guess I'm learning."

Ms. Taylor focused on the next plaster. "I'll have to explain things over coffee with extra cream. Your cream, of course. Your milk is delicious."

Blushing, Zara sat there in the nude while the women covered her chest with the plaster. After it dried, the cast was removed, creating a perfect mold of her breasts and huge nipples. Yes, they were ready to serve their community.