Hello Doctor

Had she really worn a 34B before she came to the Barn? It seemed hard to remember now.Amanda clawed at her back until all four hooks gave way with a sudden burst of elastic, then gingerly peeled the brassiere away from her tender breasts. No bra could comfortably minimize and support and hold the thick, spongy milk pads, and it was with an audible sigh that she let the heavy spheres tumble free.For a moment Amanda cupped the huge, milk-swollen mounds in her hands, gazing at them. They felt even bigger than they looked, warm, throbbing, engorged with life and need. Tiny thin droplets, forced out by the pressure of milk inside, were already beading up at her nipples and dripping to the floor. Whenever she held them like this, the deep, deep desire became overwhelming...But as she watched the leaking droplets fall a sudden shadow of self-doubt crept in. What am I doing here? she wondered faintly, hefting the warm flesh that now overflowed her hands. I can't believe how big I am now.. They were falling, staining the smooth painting of her cheeks. She looked me in the eye again, I can feel how itchy they must be to her. She shook her head gently, sadly. She removed her hand, and it slipped out of her ring. She was gone. I had forgot again. I looked across the table and found a young woman, in a white gown. She was crying. She looked at me with such sadness and misery in her eyes. ‘Monica?’ ‘Yes, dad. I’m here.’ I could hear the trimmers and shaking in her voice. Her sniffling. I started to remember. It wasn’t five years ago. It was thirty. Thirty years today. I had forgot again. I held my dead wife’s ring in my hand. The emerald ring was all that I had left of her. She had died that night, in a car accident. A drunk driver had killed her on the way home from the art studio. I had begged her not to go. It was Christmas. It was our Anniversary. We had a fight, and she left angrily to go to work. I had made dinner to try and apologize. All I had left, was her.
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