Mark - The Story of the Milkmaid

Our farm was the only one in this valley that raised cattle; they were quite a novelty, weren't they? The others raised
goats or sheep, so our cows' milk brought us a considerable income.

That day, my father said, "Annie, you need to help milk the cows today. Bob went to town. You're
thirteen now; it's time for you to be out and about."

This was the first time I'd milked a cow in a long time. Usually, my sixteen-year-old brother Bob helped.

My father's words made me feel grown up. I remembered asking him if it was like milking goats. He
told me it was, and that he thought I'd get the hang of it quickly, but if I had any problems, I could come to him in the Marrans Mountains
; he was there looking after the sheep.

I picked up the iron bucket and left the muddy yard for the barn, where there were six dairy cows and a pair of calves.
I added some hay to the trough and got my little stool to start milking my first cow, Matilda. I sat beside it,
rolled up my skirt, and slid my knees down onto its belly and either of its swollen breasts, just as I had seen Bob do
. Next, I placed the bucket underneath, grasped one nipple with my right hand; it felt warm and
heavy . Like milking a goat, I pinched my index finger on the nipple, pushed it into the breast, and squeezed. I pulled down
and then covered it with my other fingers, gripping the nipple tightly. A gush of hot, white milk spurted out, splashing onto my
boots with a gurgling sound. I chuckled and tried again. This time I finally managed to ejaculate it into the bucket,
the milk gurgling inside.

Again and again, I emptied the nipple and ejaculated into the bucket until I thought I was skilled enough to use both hands.
I placed the bucket between my ankles, bent forward, and held one nipple in each hand. I squeezed and dragged it alternately,
somewhat surprised by its ease.

Suddenly, a loud bang came from behind me. I turned around to see what had happened. It turned out to be just a cow
kicking at the manger, but as I turned around, I accidentally pulled my teats off the bucket, and a gush of hot milk sprayed all over my knees
. The volume of milk was enough to soak my skirt and even my underwear. I
stood there, letting go of the teats, milk dripping down my face, looking at my soaked lower body. Although I was angry at my own foolishness
, the feeling of the hot liquid between my legs gave me a strange sensation in my lower abdomen. As the hot milk dripped down my thighs
and piled up on the stool, it looked like I had wet myself. Going home to change would take quite a
while , so I continued my task.

As I continued, my lower body felt a little cold. My skirt was wet and sticky, so I
rolled it up to my thighs to work. My groin area was also sticky, so finally I decided to take off my skirt and wet underwear, wipe
my thighs and genitals, and then hang them up to dry. After hanging them up, I stood in the cowshed for a while,
taking in the smell of the cold wind brushing against my buttocks. I suddenly felt a sense of novelty and mischief. I danced around
for a while , but then realized I had to finish milking. I sat down and continued milking,
spreading my legs between Matilda's breasts, but I couldn't tear my attention away from my naked, exposed slit. It seemed to beg to be touched
. I felt a thrill, like wanting to urinate but unable to. Warm milk poured into the half-full bucket, and I suddenly
had the wildest and most daring idea—to spray this powerful milk onto my slit. I tried to
spray the milk to the side as before, but it was difficult. The first stream hit my face, entered my nose and mouth
, and even soaked my hair; the second stream hit my shirt, soaking it as well. I sat there, covered
in hot, milky milk, confirming that there was only one way to get it into my little slit.

I moved the bucket away from under Matilda and lay there with my legs between her lower abdomen. I reached up to
her breast with one hand, grabbed her nipple, and pulled it up. Milk sprayed onto my thighs, and I giggled as
I pulled it until it was aimed at my vulva. A gush of hot milk shot out, spraying onto my petals, and I arched my body to receive its
force. A wonderful, stinging sensation spread from my vulva. I had never known such pleasure. I felt myself
panting and moaning under the stimulation.

Matilda didn't move at all, seemingly unconcerned that I had sprayed milk onto her; she
was simply pleased that her swollen, embarrassing breasts were being emptied. I sprayed myself at least ten times, enjoying
the feeling of the hot liquid flowing down my thighs and abdomen. My vulva was very wet, but it wasn't because of the milk; the wetness
felt different. I began to stroke my wet vulva with my fingertips, feeling an electric current spreading through my body. Then I spread
my legs and slowly rubbed them. I inserted my fingers between my petals, and it gave me a wonderful feeling. I pulled my fingers apart,
parting the wet, glistening petals and the cleft between my legs. My secret cave was flowing with water; it needed something inside.
I pulled Matilda's warm nipple to the entrance of my secret place. I tried to insert it, but it was impossible.

I turned around and knelt on the slippery ground. I grabbed Matilda's nipple and played with it as if it were a
real penis. Now it was almost touching my secret place, so I lifted myself up so that the tip of the nipple rubbed against my
wet petals. I pushed back to meet it, feeling its tip just entering me. I gripped it tightly,
making it firm enough to penetrate me deeper.

I felt a little dirty, but it was a wonderful feeling to let this rubbery thing slide inside my flower gate.
When it entered, I tensed my secret flesh and let a stream of hot fluid shoot into my cervix. Milk filled my body,
then overflowed, soaking the nipple, and dripped from my body to the ground. My other free hand began to massage myself, and I
entered a state of ecstasy. I pushed my thighs back and forth, letting myself be fucked by Matilda's nipple. Every time I
tensed my clitoris, I could feel the warm milk filling me. Milk gushed out, flowing through my hands massaging my lower abdomen. This
made me feel wet, but the erotic sensation wouldn't stop. Just then, my abdomen
tightened , and then waves of throbbing pulse tore me apart, and I began my first orgasm.

Gasping, I opened my eyes and began to realize my situation. I was naked from the waist down, my shirt
was soaking wet, and my whole body was covered in milk. I was kneeling in a large pool of water on the ground. With a splash, I
pulled myself out of Matilda's nipple, stood up, and dried myself with my skirt. My legs were still weak and trembling
, so I leaned against the railing. Still aroused, I began to massage my clitoris again. My body
was still overflowing with milk, and every time I felt my clitoris contract, some milk would leak out and slide down my legs,
forming new small puddles on the ground.

I stood there half-naked, legs spread wide, my fingers wildly rubbing my clitoris. When I looked up
, I was horrified to see my brother Bob staring at me. Perhaps I was too engrossed in my own world to notice him
coming in .

I felt so filthy and foolish, yet I couldn't move. How could I explain this to Bob? He
came into the shed and stood beside me, silently staring at my wet, naked body. I
looked at him, puzzled.

Finally, he spoke: "Need any help?"

"I...I..."

But he didn't let me finish. He reached for my small breasts through my shirt. He looked at me, watching my reaction,
but I was too ashamed to do anything. He leaned down, and I felt his heavy breath on my neck
. Through his shirt, he began kissing my wet breasts, then opened his mouth and sucked on my hardened nipples. The heat from his mouth
was unbelievable, and the pain began to return; he knelt down and reached
between . I knew it was wrong of him, but it didn't seem to matter. I didn't care; I just wanted to be
touched and caressed.

When I looked down, I couldn't believe my eyes. Bob was inserting his nose into my vagina and sniffing,
licking the milk flowing from it. Then he turned me around, holding my legs. He stood up. Strong
fingers spread my hips, almost painfully, forcing me forward, forcing me to hold onto the railing to avoid
falling . I felt his hard thing pressing against my hole. How wonderful it felt. He tightened his grip on my legs and adjusted
my position. It felt so stimulating and painful. Then he thrust into me to the hilt, all the way to
my cervix , and another orgasm surged through my body.

Bob thrust and dominated me in my overflowing vagina, roaring as he reached his climax. The other
sound was the gurgling of my vagina swallowing his hard member as it moved in and out. I pushed back to meet each of his
thrusts, and then he ejaculated inside me, his thick lava mixing with the remaining milk inside. He
pulled out, panting, and I looked at him in alarm. Bob was drenched in sweat, panting like a dog. He
didn't anything, just put away his cock and left his little sister in the messy shed.

We never talked about it again, but now I often milk, and whenever I'm close to finishing, Bob
usually stops to help me…

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Mark - The Story of the Milkmaid

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