Like a picture painted on glass in black, then broken. As she stepped forward and started to change, I could see her more clearly and calmed a little....It changed again, and a solid figure appeared in my bedroom. It was a woman. She was human, a black woman, short, with large breasts that swayed as she moved. She wasn't a tiny woman, and older. Forty-five or so, not a teenager. She also had no hair at her crotch, but that on her head was long and straight, hanging to her waist. As she stepped. “Ahhhh,” I stammered as my cock twitched hard against my shorts.“Now do you see why you can’t help me,” she said with a big smile.“Oh, I think I could definitely help you out there,” I couldn’t help myself from responding.She just stood and stared at me, her eyes blinking rapidly, her cheeks bright red again, as I said with a slight shrug, “I’ve always wanted to taste mother’s milk.”She looked down quickly. I thought I had made her uncomfortable and was about to apologize when she cut me off by. More

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