Bbw Milking Novels & Stories

The next morning, Jake led me into the barn to help milk the cows. Bay led a tan cow down the center aisle past us. He shakes his head when he saw Jake and I, and walked down the aisle to cool off. Throughout the process of milking the cow he could not get his eyes off of me. I’ve been spending so much time with Jake the past few days and Bay hated it. After sometime he huffed and stormed off.

The double filling made me feel so full, so dirty, but so good. Beatrice and Ruth kept the suckling going, their mouths working together like they had done this before. They squeezed the bases of my tits with their hands, milking me like a cow, white streams shooting into their mouths. Some milk escaped their lips, running down their chins and onto their habits.

It will make it so much easier to do what I have to do. Abbadon grabs a bowl from the table and without asking lifts my shirt up, tucking the tail end through the neck of my shirt, exposing my soaked bra. I don’t try to stop him. Hell, I don’t even care, and I don’t know why. Carefully, he undoes the clasp of my bra, and takes my rock-hard breast in his cold hands, the long, strong fingers massaging the painful tissue until the milk starts gushing out. He holds the bowl under my breast to collect the milk. “No one taught you how to do this?” he asks.

"Ol' Bessie here must be getting full by now." "Is she now?" Our eyes lock between veiny pinkness and strong cow legs. Narrowing mine, I increase my pace. "Well, then you better hurry up and fill your pale, slowpoke." His brows raise, lips stuck on a silent retort. He snaps them back together, before his fingers work in quicker motions. I increase my speed, the milk splattering into my pale. He does the same, filling the space with sounds of sloshing and ringing as the rim of the milk grows taller in our buckets.

“Cowgirl. Bounce like a slut.” Milo straddled Rex—reverse cowgirl, sinking slow inch by inch, ass cheeks clapping loud. He bounced, wet squelch, Rex’s hands gripping hips, guiding hard, thumbs digging into flesh. Brianna whistled sharp. “Cream it” she said. “White on his cock. Froth it.” Milo ground down—froth building, thick white cream coating Rex’s shaft, dripping down balls in filthy rivers, splattering the desk..

It was so much physical tension, and nothing made it feel better than sitting on my daddy’s bareback dick. “Thank you, daddy.” I said, tears of relief streaming down my cheeks as I rode him, my tits in his face so that he could drink as much milk as his stomach could hold. Tim was squeezing them at the same time, spraying my milk all over his face and into his mouth. I’d never had such large breasts during sex before, and never realized just how much attention the boys would pay to them. “It’s so sweet, Britt. I love it.” he said, squirting the milk into his mouth and letting it fill up before swallowing. The pure volume of milk I was producing was insane, and I watched Tim cover himself in

When the paddles start getting heavier, you would know that the cream starts turning into butter lumps and buttermilk. Then it is just some more crunching, draining, rinsing, patting, and repeat. Simple. And like I said; no brainer. Even a drunk-three-years-old can do it. and that's what I am, I guess; a bloody drunk-three-years-old. But Madam Anne said once, the work here is more than just about milking the cows or making cream, butter, cheese, and feeding them to the entire bubble. It's about turning the mindless chore into something greater: a mindful moving meditation with the least simulation possible.

As soon as she reached her room, Bia closed and locked the door. She leaned against it, breathing heavily as her heart pounded. Looking down at herself again, she felt mortified that both of her bosses had just seen her looking like such a mess. Bia quickly took off her shirt and noticed a bit of breast milk still leaking from her chest. Was she experiencing hyperlactation? She had read up on basic mother and baby topics—especially breastfeeding and lactation. But hyperlactation did not make sense since her milk supply was actually pretty limited.

she groaned, ass bouncing, milk flying. I reached under, cupping one breast, squeezing hard—milk shot forward in thick streams, soaking the pillows. I leaned over her back, mouth latching onto the other nipple, sucking in time with my thrusts. The dual sensation—her pussy gripping my cock, warm milk flooding my mouth—drove me insane. She pushed back, meeting every stroke, moans turning into desperate whimpers.

However, her cheeks looked a bit flushed and she seemed to be breathing a little heavily, her breathing getting more erratic with the passage of time. And as she expertly moved her boobs up and down, and gyrated them in different ways to stimulate Sol further, small trickles of milk seeped out from her fully erect cherry-colored nipples. “Nh~… It comes out when I massage them hard enough…but the addition of milk should serve as a good lubricant…” He recalled hearing that all cow women began to produce milk in their teenage years. It was a genetic trait of theirs inherent in every female of their race, which made them an excellent choice as wet nurses and nannies.