2. Kevin
Kevin
Her whispered green, green, green was still echoing in my skull when I lowered my mouth again.
This time I took my time. The first round had been urgent, desperate—five years of want compressed into minutes of greedy sucking. Now I wanted to savor. I wanted to learn the geography of this new body she'd brought back to me.
I traced the underside of her left breast with my tongue, following the delicate blue veins visible through her pale skin. Laura's hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in, and I felt the tremor run through her thighs where they bracketed my hips.
"You're so full," I murmured against her skin. "So fucking full. How long has it been since someone drained you?"
"Too long." Her voice cracked. "I try to do it myself, but it's not the same. My pump is—it's mechanical. Cold. I can't?—"
"You can't make yourself come while you do it." I pulled back to look at her. "Can you?"
Her cheeks flushed, but she shook her head. "No. The sensation is wrong. It's just... pressure relief. Nothing more."
"Then you've been suffering." I cupped both breasts, feeling their weight, the tautness of engorged tissue. "All that milk building up, no one to drink it, no one to make you feel good while you release." I squeezed gently, and a bead of milk pearled at her right nipple. "That ends now."
I didn't wait for permission. I took her nipple between my lips and sucked, hard.
Laura cried out, arching her back, and the milk flowed hot and sweet across my tongue. I swallowed, pulled again, felt the letdown response ripple through her body. Her hands fisted in my hair, holding me in place, and I groaned against her flesh.
"This is what you needed," I said, releasing her with a wet pop. "Someone to take control. Someone to drink from you like you're his personal dairy."
"I didn't know—" She gasped as I switched breasts, tonguing the nipple before drawing it deep. "I didn't know it could feel like this."
"That's because you've been alone." I suckled rhythmically, matching the pace of her breathing, swallowing every drop she gave me.
"You've been trying to handle this body by yourself, but a body like yours—" I pulled back, milk dribbling down my chin.
"A body like yours needs to be worshipped.
Needs to be used. Needs to be filled and drained and filled again. "
"Kevin—"
"I'm going to fuck you while I milk you," I said, the words rough, possessive. "I'm going to fill your cunt while I drink from your tits. I'm going to make you come so hard your milk sprays everywhere."
Her pupils blew wide, and the scent of her arousal thickened the air between us.
"I want that," she whispered. "God, I want that."
"Then get on the bed." I stepped back, giving her room to slide off the counter. "On your hands and knees. I want to see your tits hanging down, dripping while I take you from behind."
She moved like a woman in a trance, her blouse still hanging open, her skirt riding up her thighs as she climbed onto the king-sized bed in the alcove. The morning light caught the curve of her ass as she positioned herself, knees spread, forearms supporting her weight.
Her breasts swayed beneath her, heavy and full, and I watched a drop of milk fall from her right nipple onto the white sheets.
"Fuck," I breathed.
I stripped quickly, my cock already hard, aching with the need to be inside her. But I didn't rush. I climbed onto the bed behind her, positioning myself so I could reach around and cup her breasts while my cock pressed against her slick folds.
"You're soaked," I said, dragging the head of my cock through her wetness. "Your pussy knows what it wants, doesn't it?"
"Please, Kevin?—"
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me." She pushed back against me, trying to take me inside, but I held still. "Please put your cock in my cunt and fuck me until I can't think."
I obliged, but slowly—agonizingly slowly. I breached her inch by inch, watching her lips stretch around me, feeling her inner walls clench and release. She was tight, hot, perfect.
"Look at you," I murmured, leaning over her back, my chest pressing against her spine. "Taking my cock like you were made for it. Like your pussy was designed to grip me."
"It was," she gasped. "Fuck, Kevin, you feel so good?—"
I bottomed out, my hips flush against her ass, and held there. Her cunt pulsed around me, milking me without movement, and I groaned at the sensation.
"This is what I think about," I admitted, my voice rough. "When I'm alone at night, touching myself, I think about your cunt. How it felt the first time. How tight you were. How you screamed when you came."
"I remember." Her voice was muffled against the sheets. "I remember everything."
I began to move, slow deep thrusts that dragged against her walls. At the same time, I reached around and took her breasts in my hands, squeezing gently, feeling the milk shift beneath her skin.
"I want to fuck you until your milk lets down," I said, increasing my pace. "I want to feel it spray over my fingers while my cock fucks your greedy little cunt."
"God—"
"Tell me you want it. Tell me you want to be milked while I fuck you."
"I want it." Her voice broke. "I want you to use me. I want to be your—" She hesitated. "Your personal cow. Your dairy. Whatever you want to call me."
The words sent a jolt of electricity through my cock. "Say that again."
"Your cow." She pushed back against me, taking me deeper. "I want to be your cow. I want you to drink from me. I want you to breed me."
Breed me.
The words hung in the air, loaded with fantasy and danger and the most intimate kind of trust.
"You want me to breed you?" I slowed my thrusts, making her feel every inch of me. "You want my cum in your cunt?"
"Yes." Her voice was a sob. "I want you to fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me for days. I want—" She paused, and I felt her body tense. "Kevin, I'm going to?—"
"Come," I commanded. "Come on my cock while I milk your tits."
I squeezed her breasts, hard, and milk streamed over my fingers as Laura's body convulsed around me. Her cunt clamped down, spasming, and I felt her orgasm ripple through her thighs, her stomach, her chest.
I didn't stop. I kept fucking her through it, watching milk drip onto the sheets, feeling her walls clench and release and clench again.
"More," I growled. "Give me more."
"I can't?—"
"You can." I pinched her nipples, and another wave of milk flowed. "Your tits are full. Your pussy is hungry. Give me everything."
Her second orgasm came faster, building on the first, and this time I let myself follow. I buried myself deep, my cock pulsing as I filled her with hot, thick cum.
"Fuck," I groaned, pressing my forehead to her back. "Fucking—Laura?—"
We stayed like that for long moments, breathing hard, connected in the most primal way. Her cunt continued to clench around me, milking the last drops from my cock, and I kept my hands on her breasts, feeling the steady drip of milk between my fingers.
Eventually, I softened and slipped out of her. A rush of cum followed, mixing with her wetness, staining the sheets.
"Don't move," I said, my voice still rough. "I want to watch."
I pulled back just enough to see her cunt, pink and swollen, leaking my seed. Her thighs were slick with it, and I felt a surge of possessive satisfaction.
"This is what you look like when you're claimed," I said, tracing the line of cum with my finger. "This is what you look like when you're mine."
Laura turned her head, meeting my eyes over her shoulder. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from biting them, and there was something vulnerable in her gaze.
"Was that—" She swallowed. "Was that real, or was that just the fantasy?"
I leaned down, kissing the back of her neck. "It was both. That's the point." I pulled her against me, rolling onto my side, keeping her close. "We negotiate the fantasy, and then we live it. But the feelings underneath—those are real."
"Kevin." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can do this without getting hurt again."
"I know." I pressed my lips to her shoulder. "And I'm not going to promise you I won't hurt you. But I promise I'll try. I promise I'll be honest. And I promise that whenever you say red, I stop."
"Red." She tested the word. "Yellow."
"Green." I smiled against her skin. "I like that one best."
She laughed, a wet, relieved sound. "Me too."
We lay there as the morning light shifted, as the milk continued to leak from her breasts onto the sheets, as my cum slowly cooled on her thighs. The world outside the loft didn't exist. There was only this room, this bed, this woman I had never stopped wanting.
"So," I said eventually, my hand drifting down to cup her breast again, "about those rules I mentioned."
"You're really going to make me negotiate right now?"
"Yes." I squeezed gently, feeling her nipple harden against my palm. "Because I have ideas. Kinks. Fantasies I've been saving for someone I trust." I kissed her temple. "And I think you have some too."
Laura was quiet for a moment. Then she shifted, turning in my arms to face me, her eyes searching mine.
"I want to explore this," she said slowly. "The milking. The... the cow thing. But I need to know it's not just about the kink. I need to know you see me, not just my tits."
"Laura." I cupped her face, making her meet my eyes. "I've been in love with you since we were twenty-two. Your tits are a bonus." I grinned, and she swatted my chest. "But seriously. The kink is the language. You and me—we're the story."
Her eyes glistened. "That's... that's actually beautiful."
"I have my moments." I kissed her forehead. "Now, about those rules. I'm thinking we need a schedule. Regular milking times. Maybe some equipment—a proper pump, some collection bottles."
She laughed. "You've been planning this."
"For years." I didn't joke. "I just didn't know why until you walked through my door."
Her hand found my cock, still soft and slick with our combined fluids. "Then let's plan," she said, stroking me gently. "But first, I want round two. I want to try something."
"Name it."
"I want to be on my back," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I want you to straddle my chest and fuck my tits while I lick the tip of your cock."
My breath caught. "Fuck, Laura."
"Then I want you to come on my face," she continued, her hand tightening around my growing erection. "I want to taste your cum mixed with my milk."
"I thought you were worried about getting hurt."
Her smile was wicked, vulnerable, and utterly irresistible. "I'm not worried about getting hurt in bed. I know you'll take care of me there." She pulled me closer. "It's the rest of the time I'm worried about."
"Then let's stay in bed," I said, rolling on top of her. "I'm in no hurry to leave."
And for the rest of that morning, we didn't.