I tried not to stare, but it was difficult. I was fifteen, and had beennot around women much - certainly not around older women with babies.And here ...as a woman breast-feeding right in front of me. It wassomething that I knew a little bit about; even in the very sterilebiology classes of the orphanage-school, the boring teachers couldn'tdisguise the fact that breasts weren't just ornamental, but had afunctional purpose. In fact, that was about the _only_ thing theyacknowledged as a purpose. I couldn't believe how huge my titswere, and neither could any guy that saw me. It was one of the salesguys who eventually copped a feel, trapping me in the corridor to thetoilets at a hotel where all the office was getting drunk. We flirted abit and then he stroked the side of my face and down onto my up-thrustchest. My knees almost went immediately and I grabbed his hand to mereflexively. I moaned as gently as I could as he plastered his mouthover mine and carried on groping me. I felt. More

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