Inducing Lactation: Pumping + Hand Massage


Though I haven’t yet given the lactation induction process my full commitment until the goal was reached, I’ve seriously dabbled in the process for several weeks (or more) at a time over the past few years. Not having a full-time suckling partner has been the main reason that I didn’t have the stamina to see it through yet, but I still wonder if I could bring in my breast milk on my own without the aid of prescription drugs.

I’ve done a lot of research into how to induce lactation, including what seems like some pretty sound advice from the Adult Breastfeeding experts at Land of Milk and Honey.

I’ve been reading more this week about the importance of hand expressing breast milk, in addition to using a breast pump, and am wondering if I have any readers who have experience with this.

Some say all that needs to happen (with slight variations from expert to expert) to induce lactation over time is nipple stimulation (via breast pumps and/or Marmet Massage) a good 10-15 minutes per breast, anywhere from 6-8 times a day.

An article link I just found at Breastfeeding USA¬†addresses the need for a strong milk supply for premature babies and recommends lots of hand expressing, in addition to pumping, in order to get sometimes DOUBLE the amount of breast milk expressed via pumping alone. It’s really quite impressive to see (via the video link in this article) how much more milk (especially that essential hindmilk) is available from each breast when hand massage and hand expressing are done after pumping.

So here’s my question for you…have any of you involved with inducing lactation with an adult breastfeeding partner (or co-parent) found that hand expressing and Marmet Massage brought much better and quicker lactation induction results than using a breast pump, when a suckling partner is not always or often available?

I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences!



PS…no, that’s not my breast in the breast pump photo above! Yes, I knew you would ask. ūüėČ

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE. 

Interviewing the Nanny (A Teaser Peek…)

Dear Readers, this is an excerpt from one of the stories featured in my 1st erotica collection Adult Breastfeeding Stories: BOOK ONE. I hope you enjoy this milk-engorged teaser & that these words inspire you to buy the full book at Amazon for just $2.99, thank you!

Interviewing the Nanny

I was exhausted from interviewing nannies all day. My twin boys were about to turn a year old and it was time to get some help.

By 4 o’clock I’d seen three young women the agency recommended and wasn’t impressed by any of them. Maybe I was being a perfectionist, but when it came to the care of my sons it was hard to let just anyone do it no matter how qualified they looked on paper.

My breasts were full and starting to really ache. The boys were with my mother and I hadn’t pumped since lunchtime. But there rang the doorbell with the last nanny interview of the day, so I pressed against the sides of my breasts through my short turquoise halter dress for a few seconds of relief.¬† The soft cotton was usually so comfortable and hugged my curves in a flattering way, but today I wanted to rip off every inch of clothing and soak in the bath suds ’til dusk.

I answered the door in bare feet, with my dark curls released from the tight bun style I’d worn since morning. Too tired and aching to care about having a more professional interviewer appearance anymore, I figured this last appointment would be a total wash. I would reject this one quick and then head for the bathtub before the twins were brought home by bedtime.

“Hi there.¬† You must be Layla.”¬† I said to the attractive blonde at the door. She was wearing tight black yoga pants topped by a tiny white v-neck t-shirt that read “imagine” across her perfectly round breasts. A little too perfectly round to be real, I thought to myself as I invited her inside the house.

“Mrs. Peters, right?”¬† she asked.

“No, not Mrs.¬† There’s no Mister here. I’m single.” Three years of fertility treatments and countless inseminations had made me a modern-day single mother who was on a first name basis with the staff at the nearest sperm bank. When I finally got pregnant I was overwhelmed with joy, in spite of the shock and fear of a single mother with twins on the way. The birth of my sons had made me deeply happy and dead-dog tired ever since.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Layla replied. “And good for you.” We shared a grin.¬† “Thank you.” I said and asked her to sit down in my living room where the late afternoon light was streaming across the two overstuffed sofas and fabric-padded ottomans.

“No sharp corners in here! Very nice.” Layla said of the baby-proofed decor. I laughed. OK, maybe this interview wouldn’t be a complete wash. I was enjoying her already.

“So, Layla.¬† Your resume is great, which is why you’re here, but tell me a bit more about you. What are your interests? Why you want this job?” I offered her some cool & fruity mint tea, but stopped in mid-pour while leaning over her glass. My breasts were officially engorged with milk now. I stood for a few seconds breathing through the pain.

“Are you all right?” Layla asked. She¬†stood up and took the pitcher of tea from my hands, setting it on the round coffee table. I apologized and let out a long breath.

“I’m sorry, this is embarrassing. I’m nursing and I haven’t pumped all afternoon. I’m afraid I’m going to need to do that while we’re talking. Do you mind?” I pressed my swollen breasts together and kept breathing deeply as if I was in labor again.

“Of course I don’t mind. Yes, go right ahead. Let me help you with these pillows.” I’d grabbed my dual electric breast pump from the kitchen and was already setting up from the sofa. Layla propped some cushions behind my back and put one on each side to rest my arms.

“I think you’ve done this before.” I said, grinning up at her as I fitted the pump together and Layla plugged it into the wall.

“Yes, I used to be a doula. It’s on my resume.”¬† She smiled and sat back across from me, sipping her tea and watching me with her kind blue eyes.

“Oh, wow, I’m so sorry. I did know that about you.¬† Why did you stop?” I was delaying popping my painful breasts from my halter dress. Even though she seemed very open and comfortable, I was still a little self-conscious.

“Unpredictable hours. I loved it and miss it, but I needed a more stable schedule. I needed more sleep.”

I rolled my eyes and said¬† “I can certainly relate to that.”

I liked her. I felt silly for hesitating. She was a doula. She’d seen a zillion naked leaking tits already, so I released my breasts one by one and tucked my clothing off to each side. Before the babies I was barely a C cup. Today I was a D cup and change. I secretly loved how my breasts had developed when I started making milk. I loved how they felt; soft but so firm, too.

I latched the two pump suction cups to my aching nipples and switched the pump on. Nothing happened. I flipped the pump switch on and off and on again. Nothing. No sound. No suction. I cursed and tried again and again. Still nothing.

“Oh, God.” I said in a panic. Layla jumped up again and sat down beside me. She tried the switch several times, too. “Let me check this for you. May I?” She held her hands in the air, ready to assist, waiting for my permission. I nodded, tearing up now from the pain and frustration. She gently touched the tops of my breasts and released each pump shaft from my thick nipples. She checked the equipment, taking it apart and putting it back together again. She turned it on again — total silence.

“Shit.” she said under her breath. Layla turned to me and saw my eyes get saucer huge with fear. She stuffed the pump back into its carrying case and scooted closer to me.

Layla thought for few long seconds and then rubbed her hands together to warm them. She spoke to me softly and directly.

“Ms. Peters, you’re in a lot of pain and your breast pump is broken. I know I’m a stranger, but I’m also a woman and a professional doula. Let me help you release your milk now.”¬† She didn’t ask.¬† She didn’t wait for my answer. She moved from the sofa down to the floor.¬† She gently pushed my legs apart and moved in-between them. She pressed her warmed hands to my left engorged breast and firmly massaged me in a way that I knew meant she was helping my milk let down. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the sofa, fighting more tears from both embarrassment and the relief that someone was taking charge and touching me with such care.

Laya’s hands kneaded my left breast, then my right. Neither one of us spoke as she pressed my breasts toward my chest wall and rolled her C-shaped fingers in across my dark brown areolas. My nipples were now leaking milk into her hands. I was thinking it would take her all evening to release my pain at this rate, but I was focusing my mind on staying calm when I suddenly felt her wet mouth latch on.

To read the rest of INTERVIEWING THE NANNY, please click HERE. 

When All You Can Do Is Crave & Crave

More and more people with Adult Breastfeeding desires are coming out of the ABF closet and actively seeking ANR companionship these days, but there still seems to be a very high percentage of us having a difficult time finding a wonderful suckling partner — me included!

Someone recently asked me why I’m not paired up yet with an amazing breast-savoring man, but the truth is — as many of us know very well — it’s not as simple as just pointing at the person you want and making it happen; especially if your goal is for a long-term relationship, not just a one-time thing.

Personalities and personal goals still come into play. If it were as easy as just bearing a breast (whether milky or dry) to a set of warm lips, we’d all be happy and satiated from tender nipple sharing.

For me, all the dating rules still apply here. Yes, we both want to share ANR intimacy, but do we have anything in common as people and partners? Do we have similar religious and political leanings? Is he kind and funny and compassionate? Does he view women as his equals in and out of the bedroom? Does he sincerely crave fleshy, plush, voluptuous bodies like mine — not just my full, heavy udders but all of me?

Because I care so much about the man nuzzling my breasts — not just the fact that he’s nuzzling at all — is where the road toward a wonderful Adult Breastfeeding Relationship, for me, becomes long and winding and requires an amazing amount of patience and faith.

But the good news is I’m very confident that he will be worth that wait and worth sticking to my vision of who he will be.

I know that many of us are out there craving, craving, craving that wonderful partner and it’s a challenge not to fall into despair when he or she has not yet arrived.

Just keep dreaming of those tender, sensuous moments when someone who is truly in sync with your lifestyle and goals takes comfort, shares love, & expresses desire with naked breast to hungry mouth and all the other deliciously physical and emotional connecting this primal act of nurturing and lust can inspire.

If you know anything about the Law of Attraction, you know “That which is like unto itself is drawn.” This means that whatever desires and needs we continuously express, put out there, dream of, think of, and ask of the Universe — the better the chances are of attracting them to our lives.

So keep thinking positive thoughts and asking God/Goddess/Spirit/Universe to bring your dream partner to life, my lovelies!

I will, too.



Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica Stories can be found HERE. 


Lactation Lingerie

I fantasize about having a closet full of silky, lacy, sexy lingerie made for pregnant & breastfeeding women. Not just pretty nursing bras, but seductive nipple-peek nighties, teddies and even corsets, too. To snuggle up with my suckling lover wearing these delicate lovely things would further fuel my ABF-goddess nature.

I love these babydoll maternity nighties (below) from The Funky Mama that expand to accommodate a beautiful growing pregnant belly and provide provocative access to milky nipples through playful peek-a-boo holes in the breast cups.



I adore lingerie that’s both feminine and flirtatious. The darling “Amber Plum” nursing bra & panty set below (from You Lingerie) in peach, pink & lavender appeals perfectly to the pretty-lace loving side of me.



Though not specifically made for women who are nursing, an alluring underbust corset like the black lace beauty below from Spicy Lingerie¬†feeds my fantasies of walking around my home in a sexy outfit with naked breasts swinging free. Or add a silky peasant top underneath the corset, as featured with the “Dark Angel” satin purple and black corset also from Spicy Lingerie, paired with sexy jeans to meet your nursing (and no doubt salivating) lover for a sexy night out and secret suckles in the car.



Lactation lingerie is a fun part of the adult nursing relationship, don’t you think?

Are there special styles of sexy nursing lingerie that you love the most?

Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE. 

You Never Forget Your First

I’ll never forget the first time I felt a lover’s mouth on my nipples. Fire and electricity don’t hold a candle to the awakening, enlightening sensations that opened up my entire body to a new path of pleasure like no other I’ve ever experienced.

Whether as part of lovemaking or simply a sumptuous sharing of my ultra-sensitive pretty peaks, I adore nipple stimulation more than I know how to say.

Do you remember the first time you sucked a lover’s nipple or had yours suckled by a breast-loving partner?

Please tell me. Please share. Your stories dazzle and arouse me and give my own cravings and experiences such sweet validation.

C’mon…don’t be afraid to suckle and tell. ūüėČ



Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE. 


Let Me Strip You in the Rain PART THREE

Slowly, as your beautiful hands caressed and cupped my ample breasts, you emptied each milky teat into your belly. Every incredible sensation coursing through my body from your suckling found me so hungry for your milk now, too.

We shared a long, tender kiss. Your tongue tasted like my nipples. I sucked your lower lip of the last traces of my own milk, then pressed my hands against your chest as I scooted down to lick the sticky-sweet pre-cum drips from your hard and tight penis.

I wrapped my right hand around your beautiful shaft and cupped your full balls with the other. Licking and slurping my way up and down, your cock became so slick from the wet warmth of my mouth.

When I gently started to suckle, stroking the head of your penis between my wet lips, I heard you moan and felt your balls pulse in my softly massaging fingers.

Those little beads of pre-cum were sweet rewards on my tongue. I took your cock in my mouth more deeply, intensifying my stroking and sucking as I felt you reacting to this pleasure all for you.

When I felt you getting close to release, I slowed my pace; wanting your desire to peak at a higher place that I hadn’t yet had the time to help build. When your breathing calmed, I plunged your cock back into my throat, pulling your need back up and up, squeezing and stroking your shaft in a strong rhythm in time with your gasps and low whispers of “yesssss.”

My cupping fist met my sucking lips over and over until I could feel you almost there. But this wasn’t where I wanted your seed to spill, love, and you knew it. I am your milk-giving goddess for a reason. I am the fertile earthly vessel of creation and life. Your seed is meant to be planted in my garden, where it can grow and grow.

Before you could ride that wave of release, I pulled your cock from my mouth and crawled quickly onto my hands and knees, pressing my naked ass and sopping exposed pussy toward your groin.

I heard you practically leap to your knees and felt your wet hands grip my hips. The head of your cock teased my pussy lips for just a few seconds — the only seconds you could bear — before plunging deep inside my spongy-soft cervix, completely encasing your sex in my slippery vaginal walls.

Again I suckled you, from between my thighs, squeezing with my pussy muscles and feeling you quiver.

Six hard pumps and I was filled and spilling. You cried out my name and clung to my body as you shot your fertile seed deep inside me. Spasm after spasm, I felt your hot juice coating my womb before it dripped from my pussy lips down between my legs.

You collapsed onto our bed of clothes and pulled me down into your heavy embrace. As we spooned under that tree in the rain, your fingers massaged your thick semen in circling motions into my still-swollen clit. Soon I was gasping with pleasure as I rose toward my own peak of release. When I finally reached it, my nipples were spraying again; slowly coating the dark tree bark to speckled-white.

We slept and snuggled; your belly at my back and my breasts in your hands. The rain grew softer and nourished the earth, as this love we made began to burst and split and multiply inside me like a pretty marble made of dreams.


Love Lactation Erotica? My Lactation Erotica stories can be found HERE.