The tingling in her nethers truly opened Latte’s eyes to simply how debaucherous her little scheme was. Most studs would be more than happy to sample her succulent sample, but she was adamant that Anon be the one to savor it—even unknowingly. Maybe it was morally wrong to slip a swig of her milk into Anon’s brew, but with how badly she found herself yearning for the sensation of both the satisfaction of relieving her swollen bosoms and to see him try some, it was an, arguably unjustifiable, necessary evil.