Usually, my uncle was right there, helping to relieve the ache by suckling my breasts, drawing the milk from them and taking heavy gulps. But I was alone in the room this morning and got up to go search for him.
It had been months since I’d arrived, and the farm felt like home in a way I hadn’t expected. In all honesty, it felt more like home than… home.
We worked side by side during the day, tending to the animals and the land, and spent our evenings together lost in pleasure and orgasms.
I slipped into the bathroom and peeled off my nightgown, the fabric clinging slightly to my damp skin. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, my breasts round and full, my nipples dark and stiff with tiny beads of milk clinging to my skin.
I traced my fingers lightly over the areola; the touch sending a shiver through me. These werehisnow just as much as the rest of me was. The thought made my stomach tighten and my pussy grow wet. Unable to resist, I swiped a finger over one of my nipples and scooped up the milk onto the tip then sucked it into my mouth.
A groan passed between my lips while my cunt pulsed and moistened just from the small taste. I really wanted to milk my breast with one hand and fuck myself with the other, but I was on a mission. I needed to find my man. My Uncle Brooks.
I dressed quickly, pulling on a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, not bothering with a bra because he’d be draining my breasts before any actual work would be done.
The ache in my breasts was getting harder to ignore, the pressure building as I made my way downstairs, each step bouncing my tits, causing beads of milk to leak from my nipples. I stepped on the landing and let the scent of coffee and bacon greet me. Uncle Brooks was already in the kitchen, shirtless and holding a cup of coffee.
His broad shoulders flexed as he turned, and our gazes locked, his eyes lowering to note my heaving tits and the wet circles over my nipples because I was so full.
“Morning, baby girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill through me. His dark eyes lingering on my chest. “Mmm,” he hummed. “You’re leaking for me.”
“I know,” I murmured, stepping closer to him. “They’re sore. Help ease me, Uncle Brooks.”
His gaze was intense as he reached out to cup one of my breasts through the fabric. His hand was big and warm, and the touch sent a jolt of heat straight to my pussy.
“I’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice thick with arousal, his cock straining against the material of his pants.
When he wanted milk, mine was the only one he drank now, and the thought made me needy. It was intimate and primal.
I knew the routine. He’d ease my tits first then take me out to the machines. That’s where he really got off on it all. And I did, too.
I leaned against the counter and let him push my shirt up. He was on my breast seconds later, his lips latched around my areola and nipple as he sucked. His auctions were fierce, and I moaned, my pussy creaming as he slid a hand between my thighs and rubbed me through my shorts.
I felt my milk letdown, a tingling and almost uncomfortable sensation, but he kept drinking from my breast and rubbing my pussy that it all morphed into pleasure.
When he drained both breasts enough, they didn’t hurt so badly. He pulled back, and I looked down to see my nipples elongated, wet, and a deeper red color from the suction of his mouth. It was obscene and made my pussy clench.
He took my hand and led me to the barn.
The milking machine was already set up, the familiar hum of it filling the air. My nipples tingled at the sight, the anticipation twisting low in my belly.
“Sit,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. I obeyed, settling onto the stool he’d positioned in front of the machine, now eye-level with his raging hard-on that tented his pants. Wasting no time, Uncle toed his boots off and kicked his pants and boxers off, standing in front of me totally naked.
I was already removing my shirt and setting it aside, the cool air hitting my exposed breasts. His breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of them—swollen, leaking, and entirely his.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. He knelt and leaned in, his lips brushing against the curve of my breast before his mouth closed over one nipple.
I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair as he suckled deeply, the pull sending a sharp jolt of pleasure and more relief through me.
I smoothedmy hands down his back and grabbed the muscular globes of his ass, massaging them, squeezing them. Caught up the sensation of Uncle Brooks drinking from my breast, I let go of one of his ass cheeks and cupped my other engorged breast. Pinching my nipple with my thumb and forefinger.
I milked myself,coating my fingers until they were dripping with the sticky, sweet fluid. I ran my hand back down through Uncle’s crack, circling a milky fingertip around his tight hole. Pressing in with a firm but gentle touch, I slipped it through the ring of muscle and wiggled it around, causing my uncle to momentarily stop his sucking.
Then I proceededto pump my digit back and forth into his asshole, fucking him with my milk-coated finger, his ass trying to suck it deeper and deeper inside. A long, tortured moan vibrated around my tit followed by a hard bite to my sensitive, rock-hard nipple.
Uncle Brooks jumpedinto overdrive and drank greedily and roughly from me, his lips and tongue working my nipple until I was a trembling mess. I felt milk spilling down my chest and trail to my stomach.
When he releasedmy tit and pulled back, my finger popped from his asshole. He groaned, “Delicious, you naughty, naughty girl.”
I hadlittle time to catch my breath before he was attaching the suction cup to my tit, the cold silicone making me shiver before the machine started up. The rhythmic pull started instantly, coaxing milk from my breast.
