Milking Station
“Alright, we’re here.” “Dude, I’m not going in there.” I had let Mitchell drag me into a lot of stupid situations that turned out to be kind of fun or that at least gave me interesting stories to share at parties. But whatever prank he wanted to pull in the mall’s Breastfeeding Area, I wanted no part of. “Don’t you trust me?” “No, really not. Is this why you told me not to jerk off for a week? What the fuck?” “I come here every day. I know all the moms; it will be fine.” I let him go in there alone, watching as he candidly opened the glass door and disappeared around a wall inside. After a couple of minutes, I resorted to pretending my shoelaces were loose to not look like I was …