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Cowgirl

By: ZotDragon



In junior high school calling a girl a cow was one of the biggest non-profane insults regularly used. I was lucky enough to be within traditional weight and height boundaries so that insult was never used against me. It's ironic that later in life, after having two kids, becoming and being called a cow became an odd mark of pride for me.

Like so many other things it starts off innocently enough. I had two kids and breastfed both of them. My husband was fascinated with this whole process, not just the fact my boobs went from a respectable C cup to an overflowing D. Every man is excited by that event. But Michael not only liked this, but liked to watch my babies nurse, and didn't mind that I had to wear nursing bras and stuff them with leak-proof pads. I wasn't surprised that he didn't mind getting a little breast milk on him from time to time when I leaked in bed. But when we had sex for the first time after giving birth, he latched on to my tit and wouldn't let go until he had drunk half his fill.

I liked being on top, it gave me a sense of control. I wasn't big on lying back and letting a man slam his cock into me; I always wanted to be an active participant during sex. So there I was, kneeling above my husband, working his cock back and forth in my cunt, when he sat up and kissed my neck, which I liked, then worked his way down to my breasts, which I also liked, then I realized he was sucking on my left nipple, which I normally liked, but he wasn't sucking to give me pleasure, but to drink my milk.

"Stop that," I said, pulling my tit from his mouth. "That's for the baby."

He didn't say anything and went right to my other tit. He made a noise I interpreted to mean he thought my milk was delicious.

"There won't be enough for the baby," I complained, pulling my other nipple out of his greedy mouth, crossing my arms in front of my breasts and leaning back out of easy range.

"Sure there will be," Michael argued. "Haven't you always told me that your breasts will make as much milk as he needs?"

"That's with just him drinking!" I hissed at him.

"What about women who have twins?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

"That's what I thought," he said, pulling me back to him. His lips clamped on my left tit again and he started sucking my milk. It was...nice. His latch and suck was much stronger than my son's. I could feel the milk being literally sucked, pulled from my body. When one of my children nursed, I knew my milk was being taken, but I couldn't feel it like I could with Michael. It caused a shiver to run up my back and I squeezed his cock with my vag muscles. It felt good. I couldn't help myself, my body responded on its own, my hips pumping back and forth, trying to make his cock spill its seed in me again. I clutched his head to my breast and ran my fingers through my husband's curly hair. 

The orgasm I had was strange, both good and strange. It didn't just originate from my clit and cunt, but from my breasts as well. 

He was right—a fact I resented—my baby, only six months old, didn't suffer at all. And Michael nursing from me simply increased my overall milk supply. I could feel my breasts getting bigger. I hated it when he was right, but I certainly enjoyed it when we lay down in bed together and he took my full breast in his mouth and slowly drained me. It was a little slice of heaven connecting to the two of us.

It was so easy to fall into a pattern of behavior that you don't even think about how you're acting and how your behavior is completely different from the rest of the world. At first it seemed strange that Michael liked to suckle from me, but then it became the most normal thing in the world and I started looking forward to lying down in bed and having him latch on to me. I'd drift off to sleep running my fingers through his hair. Sometimes we'd fuck first, then nurse and sleep. Other times he'd suckle first, then we'd fuck, then sleep. Most often it was just suckling and then sleep. They were all good.

"What is this?!" I demanded when I opened the small jewelry case.

"It's a necklace," Michael patiently explained to me.

"I can see that." I picked it up from the case and carefully examined the odd little piece. It was a choker necklace in silver and black. The black band intended to go around the neck was slippery-smooth, I wasn't sure at first if it was silk or satin, but it was much thicker than usual for those materials. The heavy clasp was ornamental silver, as was the sliding charm, which was a tiny and cute square bell. When I turned over the material I noticed my name, Beth, carefully and ornamentally stitched into the thick silk. I fingered it while thinking.

Michael noticed my actions and spoke up. "I had it specially made for you. The chain is thick because it needed a certain stiffness and strength to take the ornamental stitching. Try it on."

He took it from my hands, slipped behind me, and before I knew it the necklace was encircling my throat. I had to admit that he had done an excellent job with the sizing, not too tight or loose, he must have somehow gotten my neck measurement without me knowing. It was pretty, austere and bold in its own fashion. I adjusted the band so that my name appeared just below the pulse of my jugular, the charm centered above the notch of my collar bones. I admired myself in the bedroom mirror while Michael unbuttoned my shirt and started disrobing me. He kissed the side of my neck. "You look beautiful."

When my bra came off exposing my full breasts to view, it suddenly came to me what I looked like. "I'm a cow!" I cried out as Michael squeezed my tits forcing a slow drip of milk.

"Uh-huh," Michael agreed with me, not at all upset with what he had done.

I would have physically pushed him away if he didn't already have one hand down my pants. I was a slave to my body; his fingers were rubbing my clit, making my panties wet. The other hand was wrapped around a breast, massaging the milk slowly out of it. "That's mean," I complained. It was more of a sigh than an actual complaint.

"You're a beautiful cow," he whispered in my ear, and then pulled his hand out of my panties to turn me around. His mouth latched onto my free breast and he started suckling. It felt wonderful. I looked down at his face as he drank from me. My heart warmed at the sight and I pushed my pants down off my hips.

"Girls don't like to be called cows," I told him.

"You do," he replied while pulling off my breast and turning me around. I was wet and willing and ready so when he pushed me down on my hands and knees, I didn't resist. So what if he wanted to call me a cow in private? Who else was to know? "Ready to be bred by your bull?" he asked, nudging his cock against my wet sex.

"Fuck me," I sighed, dropping my shoulders to the bed and keeping my ass in the air. Michael slipped into me and started thrusting with great enthusiasm. I moved my hands under my chest and played with my teats. My milk was slowly seeping out, wetting the sheets of the bed. My body faintly shook with each of Michael's thrusts and each time I could hear the tinkle of the bell around my neck. I was a cow.

I squeezed around his cock with my vag muscles, trying to pull his seed from his cock. It didn't take long. Obviously this was a fantasy he had been planning for some time.

When he splashed his hot seed inside my vag, I could feel it heating up my cervix. That was all I needed; I moaned because it was too much to bear, my body shook and broke out all over in a fine sheen of sweat as I orgasmed. Michael kept thrusting into me, east thrust ending with another spurt of cum flooding me.

It might not have been traditional, but I did enjoy the orgasms. 

Cowgirl



I'm a cowgirl, in an almost literal sense of the word. Now I've never ridden a horse or hogtied a pig, but I think I've more than earned that title. It started a few years ago. I was dating this guy named Seth. He wasn't all that bright, but he was nice enough and very good looking, so I figured we could have some fun for a while. It didn't take him long to get into my pants, though truth be told he was a lot more interested in what was under my shirt. Seth was a boob guy, through and through.

This made for some damn good foreplay. He could easily spend an hour on my breasts, stroking them, massaging them, kissing them. I loved every minute of it. My nipples are more sensitive than most, and the extra attention was just what I needed to get off four or five times in a row. Sometimes he wouldn't even fuck me. He'd just lie in bed with me with his head at my breasts, lazily sucking at my nipples as I stroked his hair.

As it turned out, this had some unexpected consequences. All the extra attention my breasts were getting inspired them to do what they were designed to do, in spite of the fact that I've never been pregnant. After a few weeks, my breasts started to spill out of my increasingly confining collection of bras. One night I woke up to find my sheets were soaked with an unusual smelling liquid. My suspicions were confirmed the next morning as I tried to squeeze my swollen tits inside one of my undersized bras and a jet of milky white liquid shot out of my nipple.

I'd broken things off with Seth just a few days before, so I assumed that my little lactation would go away with him. Instead, it got worse. With no one suckling me a few times a day, my breasts became more and more engorged as the pressure built inside them. Every now and then the pressure would become downright painful, and I was forced to duck into a bathroom and squeeze the excess milk out of my tits. On top of that, I was leaking constantly. I never made it to the end of the day without having to change shirts.

I had a hard time keeping up with the growth of my breasts. I replaced my C cups with D cups, and a few weeks later I was having a hard time fitting in those. I broke down and bought a couple of maternity bras, accepting that my situation was going to be long term if not permanent. I picked up a breast pump as well, hoping it would be a more efficient way of milking myself.

I felt like it would be a waste to just pour the stuff down the drain. I tasted it. It was pretty good, considering it came out of me. Thinner than cow's milk, but sweet. I bottled the milk I pumped out and stored in my fridge. Sometimes I would cook with it; sometimes I would just drink it. There was an awful lot of it.

Over the next few months my milk production continued to increase. I had to pump every few hours, and even then I wasn't keeping up. I got fired from my job. Something about me being a walking health code violation. My rent was late, I was unemployed, and I was spending literally hours each day with a pair of suction cups attached to my tits.

Things were getting out of hand. I was broke, I couldn't get a job, and I was about to get evicted. I didn't know what to do. I sat in the park after yet another unsuccessful job interview, reduced to tears. I didn't have long to cry though. The familiar pressure in my breasts was starting to build, and I needed to relieve the pressure soon. I composed myself and started to head back to my apartment. Before I made it out of the park, a bright flyer caught my eye. It must have been fate.

Lactation specialists wanted. Nursing, production, and other positions open. Call (534) 555-1287 for more information.

Now, I had a pretty good idea what they meant by nursing, but I had no idea what they meant by production. Still, I was desperate. I wrote down the number and headed for a pay phone right away.

The next day I sat in a clean, sparse waiting room, looking through some literature. Apparently this company was sponsored by one of those crazy vegan animal rights groups. In addition to wet nursing, they specialized in mass producing human breast milk for use in their products. It seems hooking up a suction cup to a cow was cruel and demeaning, but doing it to a human was just fine. Whatever.

Still, the pay wasn't too bad, and the hours incredibly flexible. I decided to give it a shot. I followed an older hippie chick into the back. What I saw left me speechless. There were two rows of chairs filled with topless girls with suction cups attached to their tits. I was beginning to have second thoughts as I took my seat. As the hippie chick sterilized the suction cups, I took a look across the room. Directly opposite of me was a woman that was about seven months pregnant. She smiled as she caught me staring.

"First time?" she asked.

"Yes," I gulped nervously.

"Don't worry," she said kindly. "You'll love it."

"If you say so," I replied.

I was so overwhelmed by my circumstances that I failed to realize that my escort was attaching the suction cups to my breasts. I felt the suction immediately. Instead of a constant tug, it pulsed in intensity, causing my nipples to stretch and recede inside the cups. I didn't realize how stimulating the experience would be. As I watched my milk spray inside the cup and run down the hose, I found myself becoming wet in spite of myself.

Every now and then the hippie chick would come and offer me crackers and water. I took full advantage, watching in awe as the bottle my pump was attached to steadily filled with milk. Before I could stop myself, I was crying out as my first orgasm hit me. As my spasms began to subside, embarrassment started to creep over me. Who the hell gets off from being milked?

"Told you so," the pregnant girl smirked.

In spite of my embarrassment, I could feel my excitement start to build again. Abandoning all pretext, I started to massage my bare breasts, barely resisting the urge to start fingering myself right then and there. Unfortunately, before I could get my rocks off again, the old hippie lady came back and turned off my machine.

"Impressive. I've never seen a girl produce this much on her first day. You could make a career out of this," she remarked with surprise.

No kidding. Turns out there was fifty bucks worth of milk in that bottle. I guess vegans were willing to pay top dollar to protect the poor little cows. I kind of felt like a cow myself, but fifty bucks in less than three hours went a long way to put me at ease. I pocketed the money and headed home.

When I woke up the next morning, my breasts felt painfully engorged. I took a quick look at my old breast pump and decided it just wasn't enough. I wasn't planning on going back to the diary farm the next day, but necessity dictated otherwise. Besides, I could use the money.

After I signed in at the desk, I immediately strode back to my chair. I silently urged the one of the workers to hurry up. I needed to be milked badly. After what seemed like an eternity, a skinny young guy that smelled distinctly herbal flipped on the machine and placed the cups on my eager tits.

"You know man, you can set the thing up yourself if you want," he said.

"Good to know," I sighed.

I didn't really care about anything at this point. It felt so good to have the pressure relieved. I surrendered myself to the sensation of the rhythmic sucking of the milking machine. I felt my panties grow damp as the painful pressure gave way to arousal. I made a mental note to find a way to push the threshold of this experience. I honestly felt sad when I was finally drained dry. Still, I'd made fifty bucks before noon. Not bad at all.

Turns out, my day wasn't over yet. A few hours later I was leaking into a new camisole. That just wouldn't do. I headed straight for the farm. Three hours later I was sore, but satisfied, and another fifty dollars richer.

I started going every day, twice a day. My breasts were emboldened by the challenge to produce more milk and started growing again in order to keep up. I had to order custom made maternity bras online. I was concerned that my boobs would get so big that there wouldn't be a bra on earth that would fit them. I felt like I was already half boob as is.

Though the held up nicely, they were so massive that they covered the bulk of my ribcage coming steadily closer to my belly button. I quickly learned that the process was smoother the more turned on I was, not to mention more pleasurable. A week after my first visit, I smuggled in a little something to help enhance the experience. I didn't bother wearing panties anymore, since they were always soaked anyway, so it was easy enough to slip a hand under my skirt and turn on the vibrator I'd stashed away in my pussy. 

Over the next few weeks I brought in a variety of toys, becoming bolder with each visit. It paid off too. I ended up producing more milk in less time, which meant more money. Jackpot.

Within a month I was going to the human dairy farm three times each day. I was spending hours each day getting milked. It seemed like everything I ate and drank instantly turned into breast milk. I ate a lot too. I was easily eating enough for three people, yet the only place I put on weight was in my breasts. I was a freak of nature.

The real kicker was that I still had plenty of milk by the time I went home. I used it for just about everything. Cereal, pancakes, waffles, cakes, you name it, I put breast milk in it. 

One day as I sat in my beloved chair, smiling dreamily as my mechanical milker sucked away at my massive tits, I accepted the fact that this situation was permanent. I guess it was kind of a strange career choice, but I was happy. I was making good money, I loved my job, and I felt strangely fulfilled. I was a real-life cowgirl, and I couldn't have been happier.

Don't get me wrong, I still get out from time to time. Though all my girlfriends look at my obscenely large tits with a mixture of envy and disgust, they still seem to like having me around. Of course, the guys are all over me. Big tits is a pretty popular type for guys, which is fine by me. Plus, they all love my cooking. I wonder why.

A few months ago, my formerly flat belly become started to become significantly rounder. Once it started to stick out even further than my breasts, I finally realized what happened. Forgetting to take your birth control tends to have side effects.

Oh well. Looks like my breasts are finally going to do what they were meant to do. I'm not worried. After all, there's plenty of milk to go around.



Cowgirl



He called. He wants a cowgirl ride.

I don't say anything, just hang up.

He's not asking. We both know it.

I just get ready.

I'm basically clean, so no shower.

He likes it rough, anyway.

I undress, sit on the sofa.

Wait.

I hear the key in the lock, I climb on the ottoman.

Hands and knees.

My head's down, waiting.

He comes in, ties a scarf around my head.

He likes me blindfolded.

Roughly, he pulls my arms behind my back, ties them.

My ass is in the air, just like he likes it.

I'm helpless, but it doesn't matter.

I've already surrendered.

Submitted.

I hear him pull off his tie, jacket, shirt, shoes, socks.

I hear the belt and zipper, the pants slide off, then the underpants.

So far, neither of us has uttered a word.

I feel his hand on my bottom, softly, sweet caressing, his fingertips just touching the soft warm flesh.

Now he kneads it, still tenderly. He loves my ass. It's an object, though, not part of a real person.

He doesn't love me, really, but he loves loving me.

He moves beside me, I feel him fastening the collar around my neck.

His hand rubs my spine, down, up, down, ending with a finger over my anus.

It circles, circles, circles, finally he penetrates me.

It 's not foreplay. All of this is for him.

It's not that he doesn't, well, he doesn't care, not really.

He just uses me.

I have to let him.

He uses my body, obviously, but he uses me, too.

I must respond.

His domination denies me the privilege of refusing to enjoy our scenarios.

He harnesses the reins to a bit, then places the bridle over my head.

This fastens to the collar and buckles around my head.

He holds the reins in one hand, a crop in the other.

He moves behind me. I feel his erection, he backs up, rubs some lubricant over my pussy, pushes some inside me with two fingers.

Next, he mounts me.

No fucking, really, he just shoves it in.

All the way.

Now, he buckles a harness around our legs. Our thighs are loosely coupled with some leather straps, connected with some metal fixtures. Part of each fixture is a sleigh bell.

Yes, I swear it.

Sleigh bells.

Now, he touches me with the crop. Just a touch.

I begin moving as much as I can, given that we're coupled.

In three places.

I don't have much room to move back and forth, but I use what I have.

I can move up and down, side to side.

I can rotate, moving in a circle.

I do all these things, singly and in combination, hoping to please him.

Finally, he cries, "Yes, Yes!"

This encourages me. I keep trying different motions, feel him harden inside me.

He moves, too, the sensation is pleasant to him.

He slashes me with the crop, anyway.

I scream. 

It hurts!

He loves it when I scream.

Unfortunately, he pulls the bit to silence me. 

My scream chokes in the middle.

I wiggle furiously, trying to find a new rhythm.

It doesn't matter.

He crops me, again.

Another scream, choked, more wriggling.

I begin moaning, "Please, no more, please, I'll do anything!"

He bridles me, silencing me.

Crops me again.

I scream.

I'm sobbing, I lose control, I'm still trying to please him.

He loves the sobbing. He knows when it's real.

I feel him stiffen, begin to throb inside me.

He drops the reins and crop, grasps my waist, pulls me to him.

His ejaculation is so hot, so full, the juice is running out of me, down my thighs.

He cries out his pleasure.

Finishing, he unbuckles us, walks around in front of me.

Removes the bridle, shoves his penis in my mouth.

I clean him.

I'm crying, but I clean him.

He finishes, dresses, leaves.

When I hear the key in the lock, I wiggle out of the scarves. They're not tight.

Just symbolic.

I get up, run over to the full length mirror.

There's no blood, not even a red mark.

I still don't know how he does it.

Nothing but our juices running down the inside of my legs.

I adjust the video camera, put a towel on the sofa, sit, rub myself to orgasm.

I download the video, email it to him.

I'll take that shower, now.

First I have to clean the leather.

Put it away.

For next time.



Cowgirl



She was standing in front of me, long blonde hair, big blue eyes, a bit nervous and yet giving me a smile before quickly checking one more time that her parents had gone away.

She smiled again, this time with little bit more flirtatiousness as she waved her fingers and motioned me to come in.

"Come in sweetie pie" she said in her delightful Kentucky accent as I was already climbing her bedroom window.

I had been patiently waiting on the ladder for almost twenty minutes and my hands were getting sore but finally there I was, in Kay's bedroom, and she sure looked excited as she took my hands and pulled me closer as we kissed.

She was 18, only 5 years younger than me and she was the sweetest girl ever, but her sexual hunger was something I never encountered before.

She pushed me on her bed and even more to my surprise she pulled her checked shirt and the white top under it to reveal the majesty and gorgeousness of her huge tits, which popped out popping my eyes open also.

She looked satisfied seeing the look in my face, but there was a hint of innocence in her otherwise confident expression that made her even sexier.

She pulled my pants down, started stroking my semi-erect dick and then took it in her mouth while I removed my shirt and I was already hard as can be, touching her juicy big breasts as the icy blue of her eyes was staring right into me and created such a contrast with the hotness of her body and of that day.

My hands in the gold of her hair, at the back of her head, I gently pushed her face towards my dick as I felt the deepness and tightness of her throat and she gagged coming back up and then down sucking harder, taking my dick deep inside every few strokes.

When she finished her eyes were watery and some of the light make-up had naturally come down with the tears but she was happy and ready for her turn as she cleared the strings of saliva linking her mouth to my dick and smiled.

I got off the bed and spread her legs, and eagerly licked her pretty slit as she encouraged me with a "eat me, baby" in the sweet tone of her adorable voice and so I ate her up real good, using all the power in my jaws to pleasure her to the maximum extent possible.

She was biting her lip and gripping on her bed sheets as I stuck my fingers inside with one hand and rubbed on her clitoris with my thumb as I kissed the inside of her thighs and asked "you like this baby?" she just nodded, her face full of satisfaction.

I grabbed her legs and pulled her thighs close to me, pressing on my chest with my arm, the back of her knees resting directly on my shoulders as I held my hard cock in my hand pressing it against her pussy and very slowly, given the position, gradually pushed it in inside her as she moaned.

I started fucking her, her legs locked inside my arms as I went up in intensity and speed I could feel her enjoying it more and more, she really wanted my cock inside her pussy.

Her curvaceous body had me wanting her boobs pressed against my face more than anything, it was all I could think of, so I quickly changed position, releasing her and laying down below her as she came on top to ride my dick like a good cowgirl, instead I raised my upper body to kiss her while my cock was still inside of her.

I started kissing her while rocking back and forth, fucking her with deep passion and then finally pressed my face into her amazingly beautiful jugs after raising them up with my eager hands, squeezing, kissing and then sucking her big nipples while she was riding my cock in a rush of pure delight, her hands gripping on my shoulders.

A bit tired, but still hungry for cock, she stopped to kiss me again, her boiling hot hands wrapped around my head..I wanted to fuck her hard.

I stood on my knees as I positioned her in front of me and she was on her hands and knees waiting for me to come in, looking behind to me.

I spread her buttcheeks apart sticking my dick inside her warm pussy and holding her by her boobs I started fucking her hard as she tried to maintain balance, pressing her hands onto the bed and taking it deep and hard.

While fucking her doggy style I pressed her shoulders to the bed as her butt stood up to take my cock, and I held her close stimulating her clitoris with my hand, more and more as I pounded her and she finally came, her pussy and my dick soaked.

She was so horny, she just wanted more and more, so she decided to try anal for the first time, with me, "but be gentle" she said as she smiled, some of her hair stuck to her face through the sweat of that summer afternoon.

I was extremely excited as I licked both of her holes and fingered them gently, pillows were resting below her tummy to keep her up without effort.

I stuck my dick inside, this not without effort, I really had to go slowly and push it in one bit at a time.

In the meantime she was already starting to moan loudly and purring like a cat, when I managed to go all the way inside and started fucking her little tight asshole.

She was in a little bit of pain, but she loved it.

She would keep moaning and purring and screaming "FUCK ME, FUCK ME BABY" with that sweet voice of hers and repeat, until I felt all the tightness in her ass on my cock and fucking her harder I came inside her, all of my cum making an anal creampie.

We just stayed like that for a few moments, elated and completely orgasmic, then I fell on my side taking her with me, wrapped in my arms and her pussy dripping.

I fucking loved Kentucky.



Cowgirl and Belle in Vegas



I saw her in the valet parking area of one of the big new Vegas hotels. It was like a scene out of a movie--this whole crowd of Southern gals, dressed to the nines with billowy dresses and high heels and big floppy hats, saying goodbye to a toothy blonde bride in white lace. I wasn't looking at the bride, though, but at one of the bridesmaids. She was a giant, six feet tall and what was politely called big-boned. Well, being the rangy cowgirl type myself, I always liked a good-sized woman.

Anyway, it was a fair description, she wasn't fat and sloppy, she was large and majestic, long, sturdy trunk-legs propped up in high heels to show there was muscle as well as fat there, a broad bustle of beautifully firm rounded ass, statuesque breasts squeezed up and out to show off a modest, but still flirtingly girlish, amount of cleavage. And her face... like sunshine breaking through a dark day under the shadow of that ridiculous enormous hat, a jolly smile and gleaming teeth set off by long dark hair, gathered up and waiting to be released.

I got wet just watching her deal with the business of wishing the bride and other bridesmaids off--smothering them with massive hugs from that big beautiful body. I wondered what it would be like to have my skinny, boyish self caught up in all those curves and folds. But my fantasy was unlikely to go anywhere, because surely in a moment her car would come and she would just be a memory to pleasure myself with.

But she didn't leave, alone of the ones waiting there. As she wished the last of them off, she went back into the casino, and I followed her.

I watched as she sat down at one of the bars to play video poker, and took the space beside her and struck up a conversation. Her name was Beth, she was mostly from a small town in Georgia although being Air Force the family was from all over (that's why her cousin's wedding was held here). And she was alone in town for another day and a half. I said I was too, suggested that we should hang out together, and then started dropping more and more hints about my interest in her--that she was more beautiful than the bride, that some people liked girls as big as her, that we should go to the disco in the hotel tonight, that's where the action was.

"I'm not interested in pickin' up sum gah on the dance floor," she said, looking a little worried.

"I'm not interested in picking up some guy, either," I said, stressing the word guy. "I'm interested in dancing with you."

"Oh," she said. If she'd been denying what she had to know about my interest in her, she couldn't deny it any more. "Um, sweetie, I'm not--"

"Don't say what you are or what you aren't," I said. "That's how people try to define you. They've defined you in lots of ways, haven't they, Beth? By your size. 'She has a good personality.' 'Makes a great bridesmaid.' Always in terms of how men look at you. Well, maybe I look at you a whole different way. Beautiful. Strong. Alluring. Independent. Maybe in a place like Vegas, you can be those things, and anything else you want to be, free of their definitions. You can experiment as much as you'd like, and when you go home no one has to know but you." I stood up. "And if all you want to do is dance, all you have to do is dance and we'll have a lot better time together than if we both spent the rest of the night feeding quarters into video poker. So, Beth, wanna go dancing?"

She thought for a moment. "Okay," she said. "Ah'd love to."

The disco was tacky but it fit the bill; it was dark, crowded, noisy, and it made us feel like we were alone with each other even with a hundred people around us. A couple of times some jerk came up and tried to dance with me, and each time I loudly said "I'm with her." The first time Beth seemed embarassed, the second time a little proud.

It was great watching her on the dance floor; after a while she really got into it, jiggling all she had back and forth, getting into flashing me a view deep down her ample cleavage, shaking her big round booty up and down. I loved watching the jiggles start with her big round arms and ballooning breasts, then go all the way down her back and into her ass and thighs. On one number we started doing the bump, then rubbing our bellies together, and I took the opportunity to say "I know how this could be even more fun without our clothes on." She blushed but she didn't say anything against the idea.

When that song ended she said "I have to sit down" and started to lead me to a table. Now or never, I thought. "We could lie down instead," I said.

"Y'all are wiiiicked," she said.

"You have no idea," I said.

She mopped sweat from her brow and leaned against me. I put my hand on her thigh, and it didn't get pushed off. "So... what's it lahk?"

"You want me to try to DESCRIBE sex? Well, it's kind of like those big hugs you were giving out in the valet area, combined with cumming so hard you'll about blast your toenails off."

"Y'all were in the valet area?" she asked, looking a little worried suddenly. I kicked myself for giving that away.

"I saw you out there and followed you back in," I said, realizing this was the now or never moment. "Because you were the sexiest thing I'd seen in years," I said, and leaned over to kiss her on the lips.

She jumped back. "Oh God. You really do want me, don't you," she said, as if she couldn't believe it.

"I thought I'd made it obvious, but yes, I really want you. I think you are gorgeous, I want to devour you and make you cum so hard it straightens your hair and curls it back up again, I want to wake up looking into those big brown eyes and knowing that I put that smile there with my own tongue. I want to give you the most amazing night of your life."

"I think y'already have," she said. "I don't know--God, yes, I want to," she said. "I cain't believe it, but I really really want to. Let's go, now, quick."

We got up and hurried to the elevator. As soon as we were inside I grabbed her again and we started mashing lips. I slid my tongue past her teeth and she let it in, then sucked it vigorously. She watched herself in the mirrors all around and her eyes were about big enough to serve dinner on. It felt so good to be wrapped up in her big arms, folded in her massive body. We ran down the hallway of her floor, hand in hand, and as she fiddled with the keycard I felt her up from behind, squeezed those massive heavy melons and wrapped my arms around the roundness of her waist. We hurried inside and she slammed the door, then wrapped her arms around me and picked me up off the floor as we tongue-kissed again.

We did that for a few minutes and then I led her to the bed. "I don't know if ah can--you know, do it for you..." she said as I unbuttoned her dress and pulled it down to her waist, exposing the huge, heaving breasts trapped in their white cotton prison.

"Why don't you see how much you like having me lick you inside out before you decide," I said as I released her enormous boobs and they plopped to either side, giving off the sweet scent of polyester-trapped sweat. I held one up and started sucking the thumb-sized nipple as I felt between her trunk-like thighs. I pushed the skirt up until I reached cotton undies and felt the heat radiating from their center. Still sucking her tit, I slipped a finger into the scratchy thicket inside, then felt slick, warm lips open up to receive me. She fell back onto the bed and I took advantage of the moment to pull her underwear off, then the dress after it.

I stood back for a second to look at her, and she looked back at me, naked, waiting for what I would do next. She was a vision of chubby splendor, with her massive melons lolling to either side, her vast white tummy jiggling in anticipation, and the sturdy thighs tapering down to thick ankles and little pink piggies. As I pulled off my own top, revealing nothing much but a pair of B cups at best, I decided to start there, and picked up one of her round little feet, sucking the toes into my mouth. She wriggled impatiently, sending a wave through her belly, and so I pushed her legs apart to show her beautiful feminine flowers. I kissed my way up those fat jiggly thighs, cupped her broad round ass under my arms and rubbed my own tiny tits across her belly, scratching my nipples in her grassy fur. She moaned as I squeezed her fat ass cheeks, kneading them so that her pussy and asshole each smooshed together with each squeeze.

Then, at last, I put my tongue out and ran it along her sweet orchid, her slippery purple labia, getting that first tongue-on-metal taste as my tongue skated across the top of it. She shivered and moaned "Oh Gawd, yaaaayes," in that beautiful southern accent of hers. I dove in again, lifting the petals apart with my tongue, past the thicker skin of the outer lips and finding my way into the smoother, wetter velvet inside. My nose burrowed into her pubic hair as my tongue went deep into that hot slippery hole and my hands kneaded that enormous ass like it was dough. How could any woman not be a dyke, I often wonder, when there are steamy purple flower-pussies like these out there, waiting for the right moment in a strange city to be seduced and devoured.

She started writhing, her massive tits bounding up and down on either side of her, that alabaster whale tummy shifting up and down, and I picked up the pace on her rubbery clit. I pushed her legs up, revealing the wrinkly brown hole below her love tunnel, and as I rubbed her clit with my finger I let my tongue dive into that peppery pucker below. She practically screamed, biting the pillow she clutched in one hand as the other massaged one of those giant tits. I switched back to chewing on her clit but rubbed her asshole with my index finger, and her ass practically sucked it inside. I kept up the rhythm, licking her clit as I pile-drove her asshole with my finger, and it was only a few more moments before she came, her ass pulsing around my finger and her cunt throbbing in my face.

She lay there, devastated, ravished, the spot on her chest hot and red enough to fry an egg on. She didn't look like she was going anywhere, so I moved up to her and snuggled next to her. She didn't look at me, though, just gazing at the ceiling. "How are you doing, Beth?" I asked. "Do y'all believe in sin?"

Uh-oh. Here it was, the post-cunnilingual regret. "I suppose there is such a thing," I said. "Like prejudice against people being the way God made them. Against them seeking love and pleasure with the kind of person they were made to want. I'd call that a sin. But if you're asking if I think there's anything sinful about what we just did, no, I think it's as natural as anything you've ever done with a guy."

"Darlin', I've never had any guy do half of that to me," she said. "When you jabbed your finger into my ass, I thought I was seein' stars. But... maybe you can't help what you are, and that means it isn't a sin for you. But I'm not a... you know."

"Lesbian."

"Right. So for me to go and do it... when it's not what Ah have to be, like you do..."

Jesus, the things religion can do to people's heads. "Beth, how do you really know what you are until you've tried it? I watched you cum from the best seat in the house, and if you ever felt like that with any guy, shit, introduce me to him and maybe I'll turn straight too. Until then, you gave the best impersonation of a hot, sexy dyke I've seen in a while. So before you give up on the idea and convince yourself that you just committed a big sin, maybe there are some more things you need to try first. Or one thing, right between my legs."

"Jesus, you are bold," she said, with that mischievous smile back again. "Okay, but if I don't like it, Ah'm stopping." Considering our respective sizes, I thought, there wasn't much I could do about it anyway. She leaned over me, those massive melons resting on my chest, and we kissed again, sucking each others' tongues. "Taste something good on me?" I asked.

"Oh stop, you're so bad," she said. I felt her hand move down my stomach and to my wet cunt, where it traced the slit and then two fingers went inside me and I bucked with them. She licked my nipple and I massaged the globe of her massive white butt, running my finger along the wetness that had run into her crack. She spread my legs apart and looked at my sex, rubbing my clit with my finger as she tried to make up her mind. "If you don't do it now, you'll spend the rest of your life wondering," I said.

"Ah guess mama and daddy did teach me always to return a favor," she said, and kissed my clit. Then she put her lips to it again, and kept them there, her hot breath warming my pussy lips. Suddenly I felt something emerge, a little tongue resting against my slit, and it started to move up and down the outside of my pussy. Then suddenly a whole fat tongue appeared and lapped me up like an ice cream cone. She grabbed my legs and pressed my whole body against her face as she licked and sucked me. Her tongue went deep inside me and then suddenly I felt a fingernail pressing at my asshole. It was sharp and dry and it burned like hell when she rammed her chubby finger in, but I wasn't going to argue if she was getting into it.

It wasn't long before I came, but she didn't seem to want to stop. So I maneuvered her over me, her massive white ass in my face, vagina and asshole spread open. It was incredible, having her big ass sitting on my face, practically smothering me, her flabby tummy spilling over my skinny little self, her enormous melons draped over my bony hips as she chomped away, slurping everything that flowed from my pussy. We ate each other to two or three orgasms, and later, she asked me what else there was to do and we got out a strap-on and she fucked me and I fucked her, and then I fucked her in that broad beautiful ass with it for good measure. But all good fun has to come to an end, and the time came that she had to think about the future. "Have you decided what you think you are?" I asked her as she lay next to me in a bathrobe, tits and tummy spilling out of it, toes looking delectable as ever at the end of her long thick legs.

"I think I'm a girl's girl, and horny for the taste of your sweet pussy," she said. "And if that's what I am, it cain't be a sin."

"Not until morning, please," I said, as an ache ran through me at the very thought. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, I cain't go back to Georgia like this," she said. "Lord knows who I might attack, or worse yet, convert. The whole town'll be licking pussy in no time." She suddenly turned serious. "I kind of hoped maybe... but maybe you aren't interested in one person--"

"Beth, will you come with me... and cum with me? It doesn't have to mean one person--in fact, I have some friends I think you'd really enjoy meeting--but it does mean choosing what you are, at last, and wanting to be that thing--"

"You mean, a lesbian?"

"Yes, a lesbian, with me."

"Okay," she said, and we embraced again and sucked each other tongues. "I want to come with you, and cum with you, and be a part of the beautiful world you've opened me up to." We hugged and held each other, imagining the years of pleasure that awaited us. Suddenly she sat up. "Let's seal it by eating pussy."



Cowgirl and Indian



Lakota (Sioux) Information

* Sioux means "Lesser Snake" in Chippawa.

* The people call themselves Lakota, which means "friend."

* The Lakota lived on the plains with many other tribes, such as the Cheyenne and Oto.

* Traditionally, the Lakota hunted buffalo and followed the herds from place to place.

* Today, the Lakota have reservations in North and South Dakota and Montana.

* The Lakota decorate their clothing with bead work and designs to honor the spirit world.

* Traditionally, clothing was made of buckskin and elk skins.

* Women traditionally wore dresses and leggings, and men wore shirts and breechcloths.

* In cold weather, Lakota wore buffalo robes. Infants were placed in cradleboards for protection.

* The Lakota people used buffalo to provide everything they needed to survive.

* The buffalo was considered a Spirit Being by the Lakota.

* Buffalo meat provided food, the pelt, clothing, and the bones, tools.

* The buffalo is central to the traditional religion of the Lakota and of neighboring tribes.

* The Lakota called their houses "tipis" which means "the place where a person lives."

* Because they roamed the plains following the buffalo herds, Lakota needed housing that was lightweight and could be taken apart quickly.

* Tipis were made from buffalo hides. They were warm in the winter and cool in the summer and large enough for the entire family.

* * * * * *

Part One:

lately i've been having dreams about this pretty little white lass... i wake up shivering

i know that she will one day be mine, like all the other foals in my life

but there's something about her

that makes me shiver

and when i hunt

sometimes i imagine i can see her

peeking at me

but i know she is far far away

but i know she exists

i feel it in my every fiber

and when i go back to camp

i always keep an eye out

and i saw her in the clouds

peeking down at me

it's less of an actual sighting and more of a feeling

eerie and yet exhilirating

i know when she arrives, my life will change for the better

until then, i sleep with my sluts at night, and dream of her

and sometimes, i can't take these girls fawning all over me

admiring my muscles

and all the battles i've won

and i walk

the camp

for hours on end

in the dark... thinking of that funny lady

and how fast she'll be at my feet

begging me to make her mine

and why that will change my life so much

i went to medicine women

i told her my dreams

i asked her what will be

(she said que serra serra, whatever will be, will be. the future's not ours to know)

she told me the day is yet coming

and behold on that day i will undertand that the bull will become the cow, and the goose will become the gander

and while i don't understand the prophesy, i know that bulls don't give milk

i hope her coming will mean the end of darkness

and the herald of bright days

but i fear she'll just be another failed prophesy, another slut at my feet

and i also fear that somehow she'll reject me (hard to imagine) and embarrass me before all the tribe

and so i pace

and hunt and imagine

chief warAndPeace called me the other day

he tell me of white tribe camping down stream

he order me to go alone

and see who is there

and what they want

he warn me, don't fight - just observe

don't talk, don't be seen

and so i walked at night

along the river's edge

where my steps are muddy and quiet

the moon was hiding and know one noticed me leave

even the spirit of the river didn't hear me

i walked quickly and i walked smart

before midnight i was by the camp

there was noise... fire and smoke

i could smell animal roasting

i could see the young men, scrappy and ripped pants

i don't know how they move with all those clothes

that's also how i can move faster

i see the leader, out in the open instead of in the tent

this tribe will not survive

they are too primitive

i can see they are a brave group

they brought whores with them

many groups in this area leave females at home

for fear of us, and they are right to, an indian is far superior to a pale man

i have seen it... and my sluts tell me so

i can see the females standing in a group

maybe they think that will protect them from their superior tribemates

but i can see these men... they are quickly getting drunk

and then... these whores will be in their master's bedroom

i wait for that

i know then i will sneak closer

and listen to the chief and his concerns

he will not take a whore

i can see he is married

he will watch a while and then retire with his second in command

perhaps to discuss the day

or strategy or??? but i know he will

the spirit of the wind tells me so

and so, i'm not surprised when the place starts emptying out

and that the whores leave docily with their mates

for the evening perhaps

no matter... the chief is going to his tent

and now he's inside

i approach quietly

i am standing outside the tent

i listen carefully

i hear their concerns

i concentrate hard to catch every word

Part Two:

i am crouched just outside the pale chief's cabin. i pay close attention to every word. Even though these people don't know how to speak properly, my prior experiences with these peoples have taught me the basics of their language.

i can hear the chief speak of peace and security. i hear his right hander agreeing, but he can detect that he is nervous about being alone out here. Not scared enough to do something stupid, and i know i can return to Chief WarAndPeace with a good report. 

i decide it would be best to have a peek inside. i creep around and find a small window. i see in. They are sitting away from me, the small flickering flame fills fully for me to see. i can see on a desk, they have death bows.

Chief WarAndPeace would not be happy to hear that. Many braves died from the rocks that come out of those death bows. And even if they don't kill braves, they use death bows to kill the heavenly animals.

As i'm staring in the window, i see their side door opens. The chief's daughter enters the room, carrying a small tray of apple slices. Suddenly her face come in view. i gasp!

No! It can't be. It can't be her. The woman of my dreams is the chief's daughter?

I can see now that this is no cheap girl. She, a chief's daughter, is truly of royal stock.

i sit there staring for 2 or 3 minutes, and then i realize i am outside and in a few hours the sun god will appear. i must get back my tribe immediately.

i sneak out of the clearing and within moments i am swallowed up and swiftly on my way back.

As i walk, i ponder what this all means. Do i give Chief WarAndPeace the news that we have new peaceful neighbors and try to forget she exists, or perhaps if i make them just menacing enough he'll send me back to keep an eye on them.

As i trek back, i realize i want to see her again.

And so at daybreak i find myself in Chief's tent explaining that the Pale men are here for peace, but they have death bows and they are not completely stable. i tell him that maybe we should send a band of men to make trouble and scare them away. i know Chief would not agree with that, and so i expect him to say...

"That's bad medicine for this ailment. We must keep an eye on them, but we must not startle them or scare them until we know for sure that they want war.

"Go to their camp and spend a moon's time by them. See what they do. Listen to their voices. Report back immediately if you see we in danger, but don't be seen and don't be heard. Don't fight and don't kill. Don't scare them."

i smile to myself, the plan has worked!

i retire to my place and sleep the day away.

When i wake up it is dusk. i get an early start and when i arrive by the enemy's camp it still early evening. i scout a place that will be my home for some time. i like it, it is safe, it is covered, and it is secure.

i find a covered area where i can peak through the branches and see what is going on without being seen. i see the painted girls wearing fabric skirts. The men are strong and lean, and they also carry the death bows. They sit by a fire and eat their roasted animal. The smell of death is strong in the air.

----

Part Three:

Suddenly, i feel someone staring at me. i look around, but no one seems to see me.

i can feel the presence, it's very close and very intense, but still i don't see from where. i whisper in my mind to the spirit of the trees for guidance. i know now that that he's to my left, behind me. i turn around slowly and there... she is!

She stands there, her hands over her chest, leaning back on one foot. She looks mighty comfortable being alone with me. And it comes to mind. i remember this scene in my dream!

The words of The Chief come to mind... do not talk. It was bad to be caught, i have never failed so badly before, but i will not disobey a direct order. i stand straight up, my back reaching to the heights of the eagle. We stare at each other, as the shouts from the nearby campfire are re-routed around us. For us there are no sounds and there are no trees. All i see are her brown eyes, gazing deep into mine. After some time, she clears her throat, as if prompting me to speak, but i don't fall for that.

Finally she whispers, "Why are you here?"

So many thoughts fill my head, i want to tell her of my dreams, of our destiny, of how i saw her the other night. i want to inform her that i am here to spy on her tribe. But instead i just stand there mute.

"Follow me!" she says.

i remain rooted to the spot. i don't know what she plans, but i will not allow her to make my mission a complete failure. i will slip away and find a better spot for tomorrow.

"If you don't come along I will scream and all the men will come running."

Her words don't frighten me too greatly, i have stopped many larger groups than the one around this campfire.

"I will say you attacked me!"

While i don't fear their death bows, my mother gave me protection against the rocks, an attack against the Chief's daughter would be a prelude to war. That would ruin the whole plan. Defeated i stepped towards her - showing my willingness to follow.

She smiled. Ripped my heart out!

"Good little boy"

i didn't understand how she could call a mighty warrior like me, little, but i couldn' t argue.

She walked carefully, like an native, to her cabin. Once we were inside she closed the door.

She stood face to face, i could feel her warm breath on my neck, i could feel her chest points almost touching my chest. She was almost my height and yet she never looked up at me. i felt almost like i was looking up at her, but that seems so weird.

Her hand reached to touch my face. Like so many before her, my face is such that she can't help but touch. Her hand pauses by my cheek and for a moment i feel like leaning in to complete the transaction, but i can't figure out why i would even want that. i just know i do.

After that moment, she lowers her hand onto me, and she pets my cheek, like i was a horse. i feel like yelling at her or asking what she is doing, but i keep to my warrior code and stay silent.

"You are just the cutest thing. You must be tired from standing all day. Why don't you rest on the floor?"

i look around for something to relax on, seeing nothing i drop to my knees and i begin to adjust myself so i can sit normally.

"That's a good position" she giggles, "Let's see how strong you are. Stay like that"

i yell on the inside, 'what kind of game or you playing. First, you tell me to relax and now i'm kneeling on my knees?' but i remain stoic.

i find myself facing her midsection, and now i am truly looking up at her.

Her hand covers my long head hair and she pets me.

i want to run away. i want to grab her and throw her on the bed. i do nothing.

--

Part Four:

i feel her hand on my head. She is pushing my head, down!

i allow her to push me down, and instinctively my hands drop to catch myself.

i sat in that position for a moment. Then i felt her hand on my backside, she lifted my waist covering. i couldn't believe that she was looking there. Now i felt her hand curved around my bottom. She patted me softly. i could feel my bottom jump and fall from her touch. i felt her hand moving about my nether region, and then i felt her finger on my hole. i almost screamed out. i almost jumped up and punished her for putting me in the position of a lass. But i did none of that. Instead i crouched there meekly, while her finger made circles into me. i'm ashamed to say i stayed there like a mare as she mounted me with her finger. i felt her finger rub parts of my body i never knew existed and i felt my snake rising up. Just as i was realizing the connection between her motions inside me and my awakedness, her other hand reached around to incircle me. With her soft hand she was stroking me, and with her hard hand she had completely penetrated me. i could feel her palm pressing against my end and i knew at this point i was her puppet.

i tried once more to summon the strength to return things to normal. i focus all my energy and called of the Spirit of Breath, and just as i was about to release my hands from the floor and push her away...

she cooed, "I see you really like this pony boy" and she gave a little laugh. Not an evil laugh. A laugh that said she was surprised at how happy it was making us.

With her casual putdown and her amaxazing laugh i gained insight. i think i really did enjoy this! Maybe not as much as sinking my snake into her rabbit hole, but still...

And so i stayed docile, tamed? and ready for her to release me;)

But, just as i felt the poison welling up within my snake. Just as her hand was about to get coated. She released me.

And then after one last twist from deep within me, pressing all my internal buttons, she withdrew her finger.

i was confused.

She took her hand up to my face and held it there. i could see her finger was clean, but i could smell my sweat on her.

"I should make you clean it with your mouth" she teased, but then she moved her hand away and wrapped it in a leaf.

"you may get up now" she said. Without another word she rose and walked out of the room. i followed her with my eyes. i enjoyed the waves Her bottom made as She sashayed out of the room. i thought to myself, next time She'll be the one kneeling.

i slowly raised up to a standing position, my bottom hurt a little from the intrusion, but it wasn't terrible. i made my way outside and once i found shelter i contemplated what i should do.

--

Part Five:

i knew that the right thing to do was to return to camp and report to my Chief that i had failed. i wasn't able to hide properly and for all knew she had already told her father that i was there.

If she did, it wouldn't take very long for the second-in-command to convince the pale man's chief that he should send out a hunting party. And while i could withstand their death bows, my tribemates could not. We would need all our finest on the front lines ready for an invasion.

i knew that if i returned i would be disgraced before the tribe. No one would ever want to talk to me. Perhaps even the Medicine Women wouldn't heal me when i was ill. i knew that i would be seen as a failure of the lowest order. my dreams of one day leading the tribe would never come true.

More than my desire to keep my tribe safe, my still unsatisfied body wished to remain right here and figure out how to get the white woman of my dreams.

Deep down i knew She was my destiny. i knew that even if i returned to camp She would eventually be mine, but i didn't want to wait for destiny. i wanted Her now!

And so i spent the night debating and justifying that She wasn't going to tell anyone. i justified that She just wanted a good time and there was no reason to panic. i justified that i should be proud for having kept silent, even as she "tortured" me. Mostly i justified staying, because i wanted to be with her again.

--

Part Six:

Shortly before the sun arrived, i found a quiet place to sleep.

When i woke up i was instantly alert. Had i miscalculated? Was there a posse on it's way to my friends now? i quickly stole over to the white man's camp and saw that everything was calm. There was no hint of panic or stress. Since the sun was still overhead i tread very carefully.

Once i satisfied my curiousity i walked back silently to my hiding place.

As i walked i imagined She was watching me. i wondered how She knew where i was hiding last time. Why had She degraded me so badly last night? What did She get out of it?

i had so many questions in my head, but i was still very alert and i am extra careful to make less noise than even the ant walking the soil.

When i got back to my hiding place i surprised to find that my pile of leaves had been disturbed. i looked about and realized She was up the tree watching me!

She descended quickly and stood before me. She was so quiet i wondered again if she descended from the fox.

i couldn't even wonder how She found my place again, or why She was here, before She grabbed my hair. It hurt! She pulled my hair down and i quickly got into the position from the previous night.

i was not surprised when her hand once again held my bottom. But this time, she started massaging my snake ( Sioux means "Lesser Snake" in Chippawa. :) ), and immediately it grew and appeared furious. i felt Her rub something around it, and then She peeled it off. i looked down, but i couldn't understand what She was doing.

i felt her teasing my hole and i found myself hoping She'd enter and relieve me, but She didn't... and before i knew it, She was gone. 

--

Part Seven:

i began to dread and anticipate my time here. i knew that made no sense, but i worried what was happening to me, and i looked forward to feeling her pleasure. For some reason all the girls in my camp didn't excite me half as much as this Girl's hair grabbing.

There's no reason for a warrior like me to submit to her demands. Why hadn't i pulled her hair back? She has more than i. Why did i kneel like a lovesick dog before her?

i resolved to pin her to the ground next time. i know i will hold her down and force Her to take me into her mouth. And once She tastes that, She'll be begging me to feed it to other parts of her body. And this time i will surely empty the quiver before we finish.

The sky began to mourn the sun and the moon ascended it's throne. i cautiously made my way to the gathering place. i listened carefully. The settlers were talking about religious nonsense and community gossip. Everything seemed calm, and i let out a deep breath i had unknowingly been holding.

i was not at all surprised when out of nowhere She suddenly was at my side.

"Come" she demanded. Without a fight i followed her again to her cabin.

"Are you going to talk tonight or will i have to torture you again."

Suddenly, i understood. She hadn't been trying to excite me? She was trying to make me speak! That would explain why she stopped it early, before i spewed, but why was She letting me stick around? It was then that i knew that She had been following me since i arrived. That's how She always knew where i was, and that i was not a threat.

Did this also mean She had kept quiet about me?

"I see. Still keeping quiet. [sigh] okay drop down. or do I have to set you down?"

i saw She was preoccupied with Her silly games of domination, and seeing my chance, i sprang at her.

One of my hand reached for her neck, while the other went to circle Her waist.

As fast as i was, and as sneaky as i can be, i was not fast or sneaky enough this time. She smartly stepped to the side and my hands barely grazed her vest. i crashed to the floor and immediately She was above me, pushing my head against the floor. Hard!




Cowgirl Ch. 02



A few weeks later Michael brought up the subject of the necklace. "You don't wear it when you go out in public, out to work," he said to me.

Unconsciously my hand when to my neck and I touched the fine, thick silk that encircled my throat. It was true. I wore the necklace around the house because I wanted to please Michael, because I did enjoy how he treated me in bed when I wore it, because I enjoyed when he suckled me, but I felt uncomfortable wearing the unusual necklace where people might inquire about it. The necklace was an odd ornament for someone who didn't decorate their desk in a bovine theme.

"It would be hard to explain to my co-workers," I explained.

"Every time a bell rings," he quoted, "an angel gets it wings."

"Yeah, like they'll believe that," I said.

He pulled me close and started stripping of my shirt and bra. "You'll wear it tomorrow," he ordered me. "Or I'll lock it around your neck and you'll never get if off." His lips clamped on my tit and started sucking. He knew how to manipulate me.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll wear it to work tomorrow."

And, as promised, I did. For the longest time no one in my office said anything and I started wearing it to work on a regular basis. Of course I always wore it at home when Michael and I fucked. We had moved to have sex almost exclusively in the rear entry position. I enjoyed being fucked that way, even with the animalistic symbolism of that particular position.

It was at work that I was almost outed for the first time. I encountered Marie, who worked in a cube the next row over from me, in the break room while making coffee. "That's an interesting necklace," she said, pointing at my collar.

I froze and blushed, then tried to recover myself. "Thank you," I stammered. "It was a gift."

"It's cute," she said innocently. "It almost looks like a cowbell."

I laughed, probably a little to nervously. "Every time a bell rings," I said for her, "an angel gets its wings."

Luckily she laughed too.

"Michael calls me his angel," I said, compounding the lie.

"Really!" Marie said. "My boyfriend calls me that too. That's why I got my tattoo."

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, but Marie seemed so quiet, so demure, that a tattoo wasn't at all her style. I certainly hadn't seen one on any of her exposed skin at the office. I hoped I wasn't about to find out something I was going to regret.

"Tattoo?" was all I could say. "Do you have an angel tattoo?" I asked immediately regretting the direction of the conversation.

She shook her head. "No, that would be too obvious. I have wings." She smiled as if sharing a naughty secret.

"Where?" I blurted without thinking.

"On my back of course," she replied, turning around and tugging down the neckline of her blouse to expose the top edge of some carefully inked feathers. Judging by the relative size of the few feathers I saw, the wings must cover her entire back.

"Wow," I said, amazed in more ways than one. "That's...impressive."

"You should see me without my blouse on," she said without a hint of humor or tease.

"Yeah, maybe," I vaguely agreed.

"I'll bring you pictures too," she promised. 

I shivered, unsure if I was excited or scared by that prospect.

It was Friday night and Michael was fucking me, as usual from behind, he was enjoying himself, spanking my ass, then leaning forward and squeezing my tits to make a little milk flow out. This he would wipe away, and knowing him, he'd suck my milk off his fingers. I was especially horny and had already gotten two orgasms when he abruptly pulled out.

"What are you doing?" I complained. "Don't stop!"

"I've got a present for you," he announced.

I froze, the last time I got a present from him, I wound up with a cow bell around my neck. I couldn't imagine what he had for me now. My leeriness wasn't eased at all when he threw on his robe and disappeared out the door. I waited a few moments, still on my hands and knees, then said the hell with it and rolled over to my side. After a few minutes Michael reappeared in the doorway carrying a large wooden contraption he had put together in his workshop. 

"You're not supposed to be lying down," he said. "You have to get up on your hands and knees for this to work."

I looked at him skeptically. "For what to work?" Actually, Michael is very handy and his small inventions and household repairs are very reliable. What worried me was his bringing a strange wooden contraption into our bedroom during sex.

He didn't hear me. "Actually, maybe we should try it on the floor first." Without looking at me he placed the machine on the floor, grabbed some cords and hoses and started hooking them up. Only when I recognized my old electric breast pump and saw it had been integrated as part of the toy he had created did it dawn on me what he had built.

"No way, you're not forcing me to use that!"

He glowered down at me. I wasn't sure if this was part of the game or if he was truly angry, but I started to move to his contraption. Michael carefully positioned me above the structure, moving me slightly then adjusting all of the lifts and clamps until everything was to his liking. 

"There," he announced. "Perfect fit!"

It was little more than a scaffold-like structure designed to hold the suction funnels of my pump, these could be raised and lowered on the structure. The funnels he raised up to my large, full tits, positioning them right over the nipples so that they were ready to spew forth milk. He had arranged a neat and orderly system that arranged the collection bottles, hoses, cords that connected to the breast pump.

"You're going to love this," he whispered in my ear as he turned on the pump. I felt the familiar tug of the funnels around my breasts, it was a little harsh, then it let go, when nothing happened. A moment later the tug was back and I could feel my milk being sucked from my tits. It was familiar and nice. I had used the pump extensively when I had returned to work after giving birth, but hadn't used it in a while. And of course I had never used it while completely naked (except for my necklace-collar) and on all fours.

"Comfortable?" Michael asked me.

"Uh-huh," I responded dreamily. I had forgotten the strong suction of the pump not only drew out my milk, but stimulated my pussy as well. I was already wet from our early fucking and this only helped make me wetter. Michael had put me not on hands and knees, but let me rest on my forearms and knees, forcing my ass into the air and bringing my tits closer to the floor. I should have been ready for what came next.

"This is going to be great," he announced as his hard cock slipped its way between my open sex lips and well up into my cunt, where it belonged. It was wonderful. He fucked me from behind, adding a slap to my ass every now and then. I could hardly think except to concentrate on the cock in my cunt and the suction on my tits. When Michael carefully pressed on the brown rose of my asshole, I clamped down on his cock causing him to flood my cunt with his spunk.

He groaned and thrusted a few more times before pulling back and removing his cock from within my body. I waved my ass at him, but didn't move my chest away from the milking machine he had created for us.

"Are you done yet?" he asked. 

I looked down at the collection bottles and funnels. The suction pulled at me again and another squirt of milk went into the bottles.

"Not yet," I said, wishing I could reach down between my legs and frig my clit, but that would break the suction and spoil the game. "Soon."

I stayed in my position on the floor as Michael fell on the bed and watched the machine pull the milk from my tits. He smiled at me and I knelt there proudly, wondering what he would do with my milk.

"You're a good cow," he complimented me.

"You're a good bull," I said. "Are you trying to breed me?" We hadn't really discussed birth control since our last child and he certainly hadn't made any attempt to use a condom when fucking me, but the constant flow of milk from my tits had disrupted my cycle and fertility. I wonder if I was even capable of getting pregnant now.

"Maybe," he smiled, watching the last of my milk dribble into the nearly full bottles. He rolled off the bed and turned off the pump. I pulled away from the funnels and examined my slightly reddened breasts. The cups always left unusual marks on them that faded in a few minutes.

"What are you going to do with the milk?" I asked him as he carefully screwed the caps on.

"Use it on my morning cereal, maybe as creamer for my coffee."

And damn him if he didn't drink that milk. He found that it was fine with cereal or straight, but mixed with coffee it wasn't so good. It served him right to have a sour taste in his mouth.

It was good, the machine he built for me, my milking machine. Sometimes we would fuck while I used it, sometimes he would watch me be milked, then he'd fuck me, other times I just used it to relieve my over-full breasts. As with everything else, it was strange at first, then it seemed ordinary, commonplace and comforting.



Cowgirl Ch. 03



True to her word Marie brought to work a pair of pictures showing off her angel wing tattoo. I found the envelope on my desk with the note, "Don't pass these around." The photos were taken in what looked like a doctor's office, then it occurred to me that it was just a sterile, antiseptic tattoo parlor. Marie was posing away from the camera, but looking back over her shoulder letting the viewer know it was her. She was topless, of course, but instead of wearing pants she was only in a thong. The outlines of the angel wings on her back—which I assumed would be on her back alone—went from her shoulder blades all the way down over the arch of her back and the hump of her rear end and tapered off to points at the tops of her thighs. 

It must have taken hours and hours to have all the inking done on her back. And that was just the black outline. It was slowly being filled in. So far she had gotten halfway down. It was oddly beautiful and scary at the same time. Just looking at the photos sent a familiar shiver up and down my spine.

I pulled up the office messenger service on my computer and dashed a note off to Marie.

Got the pix. Very impressive.

It was a minute before she responded.

Thnx. It's a work in progress. 1st time ive shown someone at work.

That was weird. Marie had never shown the slightest inclination at friendship before.

How much time has it taken?

(pause) Over a year now.

No, I mean, how many hours have they worked on you.

Oh. Probably about 100.

"Wow," I whispered to myself, then typed. Wow.

My boyfriend thinks it's beautiful.

It is, I agreed with her.

You should get one, she typed back.

A hot flash rushed over my body. I don't think so. No. Needles scare me.

She immediately typed back. It doesn't hurt. 

Doesn't mean I won't be scared. I replied.

C'mon. My artist will give you a small one for free. 

Really? I wasn't interested in getting a tattoo but I found the subject intriguing.

Sure. For all the business I've given him, 15 minutes under the needle is nothing.

I don't think so.

Guys find them sexy.

And so I found myself calling Michael telling him I'd be home late from work, I was going out for drinks with a few of the girls. Except "drinks" meant "tattoo" and "girls" was "Marie."

It was a very nice, very clean place. Not quite a sterile as a doctor's office or surgical room, but very clean, brightly lit and had none of the appearance of a traditional tattoo parlor I was expecting. Marie quickly got the artist to agree to do a small tattoo for me for free, then set me to look through the many, many books of art that I could choose from for my work.

As I breezed through the books looking for exactly what I wanted, Marie pulled off her shirt and bra, as casual as if she were stripping down in a locker room, then lay on a padded table in the back half of the parlor. The artist set to work, adding detail and color to more of her feathers. I barely spared her a glance as I looked for what I wanted. Most of the traditional artwork I wouldn't even consider, but once I found the section of cartoon animals, it was easy to pick out what I wanted.

The assistant artist, who Marie's friend directed to work on me free of charge, took the book from me and then asked the important question. "Where do you want this?" He was kind of cute, probably barely out of high school with a scraggly blond goatee and too many earrings, but still kind of cute. I would have seriously hesitated and walked out if he was ugly, but he was cute so I didn't mind telling him.

"Right here, on my butt," I said pointing to my left cheek. He grinned at me and I blushed.

"Okay, take off your pants, hop up on the table and I'll get started."

I took the table next to Marie. Her head was tilted in my direction. Apparently the pain of tattooing didn't bother her in the least. Her eyes were slightly glassy and she was relaxed. "What'cha gettin'?" she asked dreamily.

"You'll see," I said nervously pulling down my work slacks and shivering slightly. The room wasn't cold; I was just scared. As I stood their in my shirt and panties, I realized I needed to make a decision. Since I wasn't wearing a thong I was either going to have to pull up my panties and give myself a wedgie or pull them down and let Mr. Junior Artist get a full moon, and who knows what else.

"Where you getting' it?" she asked, grinning.

"Right here," I said, smacking my less ass cheek. She giggled slightly as I climbed upon the table and pulled down my undies.

"I'm Tim," the artist said as he reappeared with his tools and apparently a stencil from the book. "You'd better show me exactly where you want this." I propped myself up on one elbow and positioned the stencil on my cheek with his help. He grinned at me as I blushed. "Don't be embarrassed," he said. "I've done tats right on the naughty bits. This is nothing. And since it's on your ass, it'll hardly hurt at all."

He lied. Or at least he gave me his opinion on how much a tattoo hurts a woman who never had one before as compared to how much it hurts a barely-post teenage boy who was half covered in ink already. It wasn't screamingly painful, more like someone was slowly and steadily scraping my skin over and over again. I wonder what it would have felt like if I had it done on a sensitive bit of skin.

Marie kept craning her head to try and catch a glimpse of my work, but her artists wasn't having it. Eventually hers was done before mine and he let her up from the table—after applying some Vaseline and a bandage over the fresh ink—and she immediately rushed over to see what I was having done.

"You're kidding!" she exclaimed after looking at my ass.

I wasn't surprised at her reaction, I was a little surprised to see that she didn't even bother to cover up before inspecting my work. Her breasts were smaller than I expected. She showed no shyness in displaying them for me, the artists or the few other customers in the parlor. That wasn't at all surprising when I noticed that both nipples were pieced through with a bright steel rod that had little balls on each end holding it in place. Quiet Marie, I thought to myself, so reserved and focused on her job...spends her time adding to her huge back tattoo and getting her nipples pierced. What other surprises did she have for me?

"A cow?" she asked, her eyes not having moved from my butt.

"Yes. I think they're cute." It wasn't truly a lie, and Michael would appreciate it I was certain.

She shrugged. "It's just that most women get flowers, or butterflies, or birds, cute little animals and such for their first tattoo. You got a cow."

"I like cows," I said. It was then that she noticed I was staring at her chest. My eyes hadn't moved from the barbells going through her nipples. I was fascinated with the way the light sparkled off the balls.

"Apparently you like women's breasts too," she commented with a light laugh.

I winced. Hopefully she thought it was because of the needle and not my embarrassment. Last thing I needed was to discover that Marie was a lesbian and thought I was coming on to her. "No, it's not that," I said. "It's just that I've never seen pierced nipples before. Well, not up close and in person," I amended.

"You like them?" she asked raising her hands to cup her small boobs. "Ian did them for me."

"That's right, I did," my tattoo artist, apparently named Ian, said.

"You want yours done?" she asked me.

"No!" It came out more emphatically than I intended.

She laughed. "It took me a while as well. Small steps." She still didn't make a move to cover herself. She must have been proud of her body. It was attractive enough; she was a small woman, barely above five foot two, but lithely built with curves in all the right places.

"I would have thought your tits were bigger," I blurted trying to change the subject and doing a horrible job of it.

She laughed and gathered up her top and bra. She displayed the undergarment to me; it had copious padding that added to her small Bs bringing her up to an adequate C. "I wear the thick bras because they hide my piercings better, especially the rings. I like wearing rings better than studs and barbells, they're prettier."

I just nodded in agreement as she slipped on the bra then her shirt. Marie didn't seem to be suffering any of the pain that I was undergoing, but she was probably used to the needle—and who knows what else. After getting dressed she looked down at my naked ass again. I was starting to feel seriously underdressed in the small parlor.

"It looks good, cute and sexy," she complimented me and Ian.

"Thanks," I breathed. Ian said nothing. The pain was starting to increase from an annoying itch up to an eight-hour sunburn level. Then Marie did something completely shocking. She laid her hand on my ass right next to my tattoo. I froze, then looked over my shoulder at what she was doing. 

I have naturally pale skin, not pasty white, just the kind of pale where the day after summer any tan I might have had is instantly gone. I was delighted to see that my tattoo stood out boldly from my skin, but alarmed to see that everywhere around it my skin had turned bright red, as if my ass had been exposed to the sun all day. This was where Marie had placed her hand. It wasn't exactly sexual, but it wasn't exactly completely innocent either.

"You do have sensitive skin," she commented. "The flesh is hot. You're ass is going to be sore tomorrow." She didn't remove her hand. I was torn between telling her to get it off and telling her if she was going to leave it there to do something a little more exciting with it. I was acutely away that her bare hand was barely inches away from by now moistening pussy.

"Done," Ian announced, breaking the spell between us. Marie removed her hand, looking more than a little guilty. I started to pull up my panties but Ian stopped me. "I've got to put the bandage on first."

The tattoo was barely three inches across but after slathering the Vaseline across my already sore bottom and then taping on the wide bandage, I felt like I was wearing a diaper instead of panties. Ian went over the aftercare instructions with me as Marie listened in. Not that she needed to know how to care for a tattoo. She'd been through this a hundred times before.

Once out of the parlor and walking back to my car, I began to quiz her again. "You do this all the time?"

"Yes. It's going to take about twenty more hours to finish my feathers."

"How many other tattoos do you have? I just saw your big one."

She smiled as she reached her car. "You'll have to wait to see those," she said, then quickly kissed me on the lips, slipped into her car and drove off. I was left wondering what the hell that was all about, what she was hinting at, and if I'd be able to sit down long enough with my ass on fire to drive home.

Michael immediately knew something was up when I limped inside the house. 

"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, not overly concerned since I was moving, but slowly and jerkily.

"No."

"Then what's the matter?"

I sighed and looked at the kitchen chair. There was no way I was sitting on that hard wood surface. "Okay, let's go into the bedroom and I'll show you."

I hobbled in front of him. I'm sure he was staring at my ass and could see the bandage hiding my tattoo. What was I thinking? I'm not the sort of person to make sudden, rash decisions like getting a tattoo or picking up a stranger in a bar. I was going to be stuck with this tattoo forever. I had been careful with the placement so it would be hidden even when wearing a revealing swimsuit, and even in today's world lots of different people got tattoos for all reason. So why had I gotten a cow permanently placed on my ass?

Once in the bedroom, I dropped my slacks to the floor and laid belly down on the bed. I was certain Michael could see the bandage under my panties.

"What?" he asked.

He was clueless so I eased my panties over the hump of my ass to display the bandage to him.

"What is that?"

"Take it off and you'll see."

Apparently he was either too eager or too stupid to realize he shouldn't just rip it off, which he did causing me to scream out in pain, but he didn't even hear my shout.

"Holy shit!" he cried out. "That's fantastic."

I was surprised and looked over my shoulder at him. "It is?"

His eyes were shining in excitement. "Yeah. Sexy. And cute." He touched it with one finger and I squirmed away.

"Don't. It hurts. Can't you see the red?"

"Oh, sorry." He barely heard me, he was still staring at it. "I really want to fuck you now," he said while starting to undress.

"Don't," I warned him. "My ass hurts too much to have you slamming into me and I'm not laying on my back while you fuck me. You'll have to wait until it's healed."

I forced him to wait two days before I allowed him to fuck me again. He thought that was an unnaturally cruel and long time to go without sex, even though I allowed him to nurse whenever he requested it. Michael seemed to forget that I liked sex too—I had become accustomed to getting fucked just about every day, sometimes twice—and the wait seemed interminable to me as well.

Still, he appreciated the tattoo—even though it was completely out of character for me. Michael said the decoration only added to my sexiness, that it gave him something else to look at and admire when he was fucking me. Plus it reminded the both of us the current lynchpin of our relationship.



Cowgirl Ch. 04



Marie was surprisingly cool and distant at work, which I appreciated because it would just be too odd for her to suddenly become my best friend just because he got tattooed together, I saw her tits and she put her hand on my ass. I did take closer note of her, however. And I could tell that she always wore a padded bra to hide her nipple rings, though I didn't look too closely. I didn't want to be caught leering at another woman's breasts at work. 

I discovered Marie was fun. She liked to send me emails and notes through the day. She had a wicked sense of humor and a sharp wit that she kept otherwise completely hidden from our co-workers. I began to trust her more and more—why not? She had seen my bare ass and who knows what else. But I didn't yet trust her enough to tell her the secret that Michael and I shared.

Between Michael's nursing and my regular sessions with the milking machine he had created, my breasts felt full almost all the time. I purchased a small hand pump to take to work. In the middle of the day during my lunch I would slip off to one of the private lockable offices and pump to relieve some of the pressure. It was almost too much to bear during the day. If I didn't get a chance to pump I would often wind up letting down my milk the moment I saw Michael at night. He took this to be a sign of love, even though I always told him it was simply a physiological reaction. It didn't mean anything like love. But you try telling that to a man sucking milk from your tits.

Michael started taking pictures of my ass and my tattoo, sometimes when I was lying on the bed, sometimes when I was on the milking machine. It started off with him saying he just wanted a few pictures of my tattoo. I knew it wouldn't end there; but I didn't try to stop him. Maybe I liked the extra attention he gave me because of my tattoo. And pictures were harmless enough.

He was admiring my ass and tattoo while I was hooked up to the machine one night when he started on his next conquest with my body. "You need something on the other cheek to help balance it out," he said, tracing my cow tat with his fingers.

"It's not on my ass cheek," I said. "It's on my hip." I knew this wouldn't hold true with him.

In response he brought his hand down sharply on my tattoo, slapping the flesh off my ass. "That's your hip?" he asked.

I giggled as the milker sucked another squirt of liquid from me. "No."

"Then we're going to put something over here to balance you off," he said drawing an invisible circle on my right cheek.

"I'm not getting another tattoo."

"No, not a tattoo..." he said thoughtfully.

"You're thinking too much," I told him over my shoulder.

He just grinned back at me.

My breasts hurt, I typed to Marie one day.

That time of the month coming?

No, I replied. No now, I think I'm skipping this month.

Skipping? She asked.

Sometimes I skip a month.

Pregnant? She asked me.

I shouldn't have been message chatting with her at all right then because I was trying to concentrate on a claim. Which partly explains my next comment to her. No. I've been over-milked I think.

I didn't notice the long pause between this and her next message. I wasn't paying close attention.

Over-milked? Her message came to me.  What? Does he nurse like a baby from you?

The moment I looked at the message I knew I was busted. My face flushed red and my stomach hardened and sank through the floor. I was certain she could feel the heat from my face even if she couldn't see me.

My pause was too long because she followed her message up. You there?

Yeah. I typed. What else to say? Michael likes to, you know, drink my milk. My legs were shaking and I could feel my breathing stop. What was she going to think or say?

I knew there was something kinky about you. She would have included some stupid smiley icon if our work messenger allowed it. That's kinda hot. Kinky hot.

Don't tell anyone! Ever!

Who would I tell?

That was true. Marie hardly ever spoke to anyone at work; and if I was keeping her secret then she could certainly keep mine. Okay, just don't tell anyone. It's kind of embarrassing.

Tell me about it; it sounds hot.

So I told her. Everything. Including the way he likes to nurse from me. The way I have to wear my bell, the way he likes to fuck me, the reason why I got my tattoo, the way he likes to watch me on the milking machine.

He built you a milking machine?

Yeah. It's weird, but kinda feels nice when I'm in the mood for it, especially when I'm too full and he's not around to drain me.

Kinky. Can I try it?

I'd never thought about sharing my milker with anyone else. It seemed a little bit like asking to share someone else's vibrator. It's perfectly okay to use one, but you just don't share it with a casual acquaintance, even a friend, unless you are physically intimate with that person.

Um. Yeah. Maybe. It's really just a breast pump hooked up to a frame.

And so a week later, when Michael was out with friends and I had put the kids to bed for the night, I was dragging the milker out from my bed to show Marie. 

"Oh, it's simpler than I thought it would be," she commented. I looked down at the familiar piece of machinery. 

"Yeah, sometimes simple is better," I commented, feeling a little like I was showing her my secret stash of porn or sex toys—probably because this was a sex toy.

Without saying anything else, she pulled off her shirt and was in the middle of unhooking her bright white padded bra before I could gather my thoughts and speak again. "What are you doing?" I asked her, completely shocked.

"Trying it out," she said as she manipulated the small balls that held her barbell nipple piercings in place. "You said I could."

Not really I thought to myself, but in the presence of her naked breasts I found myself unable to protest. "Oh."

She looked down at the machine. "How does it work?" she asked, obviously eager to try it out.

"You get down on all fours—knees and elbows, forearms really—put your breasts in the funnels, turn on the pump and off you go."

She got down like she was supposed to, her skinny ass pointed into the air, but no matter how she tried to drop her chest down, her tiny tits wouldn't reach the cups. I had to get down on the floor with her to adjust the height controls on the suction funnels. It was a challenge making the adjustments trying not to touch her breasts, but somehow I managed to do it with a minimum of skin to skin contact. I don't think she noticed.

"Turn it on," she said once she was happy with the placement. She looked up at me as I was about to flick the switch. Her eyes were shining with eagerness, completely in contrast to my reaction when Michael first showed me the milker. My heart nearly melted when I saw her in that position, submissive and eager; it made her beautiful and sexy and I suddenly wished I had taken advantage of her—at least a little bit—while I was helping her into the milker.

I flipped the switch and her eyes widened suddenly as the suction kicked in, grabbing her virgin breasts and pulling them. I knew from experience it wasn't exactly painful, but the first time using the machine can be a little shocking. Through the translucent plastic I could see her pink nipples elongate, then spring back as the machine let go. "Oh," she moaned, surprised at the ferocity of the milker. "That's...nice. Harsh, but nice."

The machine fell into a steady rhythm, sucking her nipples and giving her pleasure. I didn't realize how focused on her breasts Marie was, she was obviously building toward and orgasm. I wondered how much her nipple rings stimulated her and if that was why she had them done.

I laid down on the bed and watched her. "Do you like it?" I asked her.

"Mm-hmm," she sighed. "It nice. It's good. No wonder you let Michael do this for you." She glanced down at the collection bottles hanging beneath her. "No milk yet."

I laughed at her. "It would take you weeks, months even, of stimulation to start you lactating."

She half-closed her eyes and moaned. "I could get used to that. I wonder if my boyfriend would like me to do this for him." She wiggled her ass a bit, showing off her excitement. I had never seen another girl orgasm in front of me (porn films don't count) and I wanted to see it happen now. I laid on my side and slipped my hand between my thighs, not stimulating my pussy just yet, but leaving it close enough so I could feel the warmth I was generating.

"You've gonna cum," I said softly to her.

"How do you know?" she asked, wiggling her hips trying to stimulate herself some more.

"I can tell. Let it happen," I ordered her.

"Uh-huh," she agreed, shaking her head. A few beads of sweat broke out on her brow and moments later she cried out in pain, pulled away fro the suction cups and slipped to the floor, tears slid down her cheeks. "Oh, that was wonderful," she whispered to me. "No wonder you love your husband."

It wasn't exactly why I love him, but seeing her getting off, made me want to masturbate as well. "Do you mind if I get off?" I asked her.

"Go ahead," her voice was husky and distant. I doubt she even understood what I asked her. It didn't matter. I opened my pants, slipped my hand inside my panties, found my wet and slippery clit, and in a minute I was moaning and shivering with desire. Another minute later a wave broke in my body and I had my own orgasm.

We lay their together, quietly, for a few minutes. It was Marie who broke the silence. "Can I watch you use the milker?" she asked.

"Uh," I stammered. What did it matter now. I wasn't exactly sure how far one could go and still be considered a straight girl, I was pretty sure I had already crossed the line to bi-curious. "Sure, why not?" I got up from the bed, unbuttoned my blouse, pulled off my nursing bra, kicked off my pants because at the end of the day I insist on being pant-less, and knelt next to the machine. 

Marie moved over to make room for me. I adjusted the funnels back to my height, positioned my large breasts into the cups and hit the switch. When the suction first pulled at my nipples did I realize I was wearing only my silky black panties, which were partially soaked with my juices and starting to slip into the crack of my ass. I realized all of this and it made me feel sexy so I was happy to show off in front of Marie.

"Wow!" she exclaimed as the first squirt of milk issued from my nipples and the thin white liquid flowed down into the collection bottles. "That's so cool. And sexy." 

I smiled at her as she watched more and more of my milk dribble into the bottles. 

"Do you like how it feels when it's pulled from your tits?"

"It doesn't hurt, sometimes it feels really nice." She moved around behind me and put her hand on my left ass cheek, pushing up the material of my panties. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"I want to see your tattoo," she said. By now it was as if I were wearing a thong, but it felt good and sexy to show off in front of her.

I had barely started filling the bottles when Marie suddenly shut off the pump. "I want to taste it," she said. "I can't wait for the bottles to be filled."

"Okay," I agreed. What did it matter to me? I pulled my boobs off the suction funnels and started unscrewing one of the bottles, when I felt a mouth on my left tit. I looked down at Marie's face. Her eyes were closed and ecstasy was on her face as her mouth as attached to my breast, sucking the milk directly from me.

I was scared, but it felt good. I told myself I was just nourishing another human being. There was nothing wrong with what we were doing, I had to remind myself. My free breast was dripping slowly so I grabbed a cloth I kept next to the milker and soaked up the excess milk. I wasn't sure if I was in love with Marie, but I loved what she was doing to me.

"Let's lie down on the bed," I told her softly. She broke her latch on my nipple and nodded her head. We crawled up on the mattress, I laid on my side and she took up my breast again, slowly, steady pulling my milk from my tit. I watched as her jaws worked, keeping the suction going as I stroked her hair and just enjoyed the sensations, relaxing with my friend.

Eventually she drained my first breast so we shifted positions and she settled into my other breast. It was stimulating and relaxing as well. We didn't feel the need to have sex, but Marie wiggled her hand between my legs and cupped my pussy through the silk of my panties. It was nice, so very nice that it took no effort at all for the two of us to fall asleep in each other's arms.

We were woken by Michael, who flipped on the bedroom light and announced, "Lesbians are hot."

"I'm not a lesbian," I complained sleepily, squinting my eyes against the light. My protest was weak; it's hard to claim pure heterosexuality when you're sharing a bed with a half-nude woman while wearing only a pair of panties. And wet panties at that.

"Bi then," he amended. "Still hot."

"We're not lesbians," Marie spoke up. She sounded more awake than I was, maybe she hadn't been sleeping, but she certainly wasn't shy about letting my husband see her naked tits. "We didn't have sex."

He held up his hands in protest. "I'm not judging. Though I wouldn't mind watching..."

"That's okay," I said rolling off the bed and grabbing my bathrobe to cover up. Yeah, Michael had seen me naked hundreds of times before, but somehow in front of Marie, it felt wrong...or at least dirty. "I think we're done for the night." Those few words were enough to completely crush Michael's spirits. Too bad, I say. I invited Marie over for me, not him.

Marie, on the other hand, wasn't the least bit shy about showing off her body. She casually and languidly rolled off the bed, and instead of looking for her shirt or bra, she found her nipple rings that she'd placed on the dresser and casually started to re-insert them. Michael goggled at this uninhibited display of sexuality.

"You sure you two ladies don't want to have a little ménage a trois?" he asked anxiously.

"Maybe some other time," Marie said after slipping on her shirt and patting his lightly on the side of his face. He was too stunned to have any reaction. "I'll see you tomorrow at work, sweetie," she said to me, moved in quickly, kissed me in a way that I could only describe as intimate, and swept out the door.

Michael was on me in an instant, pulling off my robe and opening his pants to display a rampant cock. "What are you doing?" I asked him, pretending to be uninterested in what he was doing.

"Fucking you," he grunted, pushing the head between my wet lips.

"Oh," I sighed as he started thrusting in earnest. "Did Marie excite you so?"

"Yes!" he cried out. "I'm going to watch the two of you fuck," he told me. I'm sure he thought it might have been pure fantasy, since I had always demurred whenever he suggested a threesome before, but with Marie, it was much more likely to happen. 

Not that I was going to encourage him.



Cowgirl Ch. 05



That was hot last night, Marie IM'ed to me the next day.

Yeah, it was, I agreed. I always tried to keep my IM's very neutral. I was certain they were constantly monitored by the company, but Marie didn't seem to care.

I was so full of your milk that I couldn't even eat breakfast this morning.

This made my face turn red. Now I was positive that we were being spied on. Not here, not now, I replied to her.

We've got to do it again, she sent me. My boyfriend wants to sample you as well. Would that be okay?

This left me wondering how I get myself into these situations. Uh, maybe. Not right away. I'd like to get with you again. Maybe that would help put him off.

That sounds great! I could hear her enthusiasm through the messenger. Tonight?

No, not tonight. I have a headache. Ha! My jokes always came off flat on IM.

We negotiated back and forth through the day. I was alternately hot and bothered by the idea of what we were planning, and then nervous and scared that we'd be caught—by whom I don't know—and even that made it more exciting to me. Who would have known my breasts were such a source of excitement to others.

And don't forget to have Michael there, she sent me right at the end of the day before she walked out the door.

Michael? I hadn't known he'd be part of this too. Not that it mattered; if she wanted him there, I was more than willing to share.

I insisted on having an evening snack for Marie when she came over; we were meeting too late for dinner, but as a good hostess I couldn't just expect Marie to hop into bed with us without at least offering something to eat or drink.

"It's completely unnecessary," he pointed out to me. "You're the snack. Or drinks, at least."

"Ha ha," I commented, laying out a platter of crackers and cheese. "I'm more than that."

"I'll say," he whispered in my ear, wrapping his arms around me from behind and cupping my breasts. I tried to push him away, I was very full and didn't want to start leaking, but his hands on my tits felt so very good. If the doorbell didn't ring just then I probably would have hiked up my skirt and pulled off my panties, but as it was we were interrupted by Marie's appearance.

I invited her in, offered her cheese and crackers—she took just a few to be polite—but she didn't let us chat idly, Marie went right to the heart of the matter.

"I'm glad Michael's going to be with us tonight," she said. "It'll be nice to have a partner for this."

"A partner?" I asked confused and glanced at my husband. Michael looked away, either embarrassed or guilty, maybe both. "What's going on?" I asked both of them.

Michael still couldn't meet my gaze, but Marie was calm and cool as always. She smiled and raised her chin a tiny bit. Her long black hair fell away from her face. "I've been…talking with Michael. We have something special for you tonight."

I've always been a little slow when confronted with strange, unexpected situations and this was no exception. I finally figured out that she must have been talking to each other behind my back. Before I could do or say anything to protest, Michael suddenly found his voice.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered me.

I blinked at him, it was a blunt approach, but my hand almost automatically went to the buttons on my blouse. Only when Marie spoke did I hesitate.

"Might as well take off the rest of your clothes as well," she said. "It's not like you're going to need them." 

And again I didn't know what to say. Marie took the initiative and started unbuttoning her own shirt while Michael looked on, a boy happily caught between two candy stores.

"Why don't we go to the bedroom first," I suggested. 

Marie eagerly led the way, her shirt unbuttoned, exposing her padded bra but little else. As she ascended the staircase I followed her, watching her shapely ass as it swung back and forth in front of my eyes.

Once in the bedroom, she dropped her bright red shirt from her shoulders, keeping her back to me. Her inked wings were only partly hidden by her tight black pants and the thin bra strap that cut across her back just under her shoulder blades. "Undo me," she asked, pulling her hair aside and looking over her shoulder at me. My hands were fairly trembling when I reached for her black bra and tried to slip free the hooks. After a few attempts I finally managed to work it and the strap came free. She turned around, smiling proudly, and presented me with her bare tits sporting a pair of bright gold rings. I stood there mute, excited but not knowing what to do.

"Let me help you," she said, reaching for my shirt and starting to undo the buttons. I noticed Michael sitting on the corner of the bed, happily watching the two of us. Before I knew it my blouse was on the floor, Marie had moved in close to me, slipping her arms around me to unhook my bra. She kissed me lightly on the neck as she pulled the bra away, exposing my milk-full tits. "Ready?" she asked Michael. 

He nodded and she led me to the bed. Before I could mount the mattress, Michael fell to his knees in front of me, unzipped my skirt and pulled it off, leaving me in just my panties. Or rather my thong; I only owned two thongs, and since this was a special occasion, I decided to go with it to show off my tattoo.

"Get on your hands and knees," Marie ordered me. 

"On the bed?" I asked, confused. Usually I only did that with the milker.

When she said yes, I simply followed orders. Marie laid next to me on one side, Michael on the other. It was obvious what they were planning on doing. My boobs were hanging down, full and ready to be emptied. They worked their heads under my chest, while Marie and I giggled, until their mouths found my nipples and they started suckling.

It was heavenly.

I could feel my milk flowing into their mouths, each one nursing at their own pace. Michael tended to suck harder and take bigger gulps, he was eager to drain me. Marie took her time, enjoying both the experience and time with me, she was gentle compared to him, but just as insistent.

They made me hold that position for a good fifteen minutes while the suckled me. It started off being novel and sensual and more than a bit erotic, but toward the end my arms were getting tired. I wasn't used to being stuck in the same position for so long. "You two had better finish up," I told them. "I'm getting to tired and I don't care how much you like this. I can't go all night."

Reluctantly Michael let go of my tit, gently kissed the side of my breast and rolled off to the side. Marie, however, didn't heed my request and kept on draining me, though by this time I could feel there was nothing left to feed her. "Let go," I prompted, tugging my breast away slightly. She grinned around my nipple and refused to let do, keeping a strong latch on me. I pulled back a little harder, just to the point of pain, but she still refused to let go. Michael laughed at my predicament.

"This isn't funny," I told him.

"Then just pull away," he said.

"It'll hurt!" I complained; secretly I was sort of enjoying the slight torture she was putting me through.

"I think that's what she wants," he said. 

I let Marie nurse a moment longer, then pulled back in earnest. She resisted, looping an arm around my waist to keep me close. In retaliation, I put one hand on the side of her face and forced her away from me. It was a struggle, but I was bigger and eventually prevailed, though at great cost. It felt like she was ripping my tit off when I finally broke the suction.

She immediately pouted. "I wasn't done," she all but whined.

"You're done," I told her, gently holding my breast. "See, there's nothing left." I squeezed to extract any remaining milk. There was none, of course, not even enough to form a pearly drop on the tip of my nipple.

"I'm still thirsty," she said playfully. I knew she was lying, but played along anyway.

"Then why don't you give Michael a blowjob and drink his spunk," I suggested.

Marie immediately brightened. "That sounds great! I love man-cum." She turned to him. "Take off your pants," she ordered.

He looked at me, helpless and confused. His eyes were wide with shock and excitement. I could see the outline of his cock under the denim of his jeans. "Should I?" he mouthed to me.

My chest was tight and I could feel a gush of wetness in my panties. Whatever else I wanted or knew about our relationship, I was eager to see Michael receive a blowjob from Marie. It certainly wasn't cheating, not if he was doing it right in front of me. Was it?

"Yes," I whispered to the two of them.

Marie didn't need to be told twice. She moved over to his side of the bed, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. Together they pushed off his pants and she, without a hint of hesitation or shyness, reached into his underwear, pulled out his already stiff cock, and put it in her mouth.

I was never a bit watcher of porn. It always seemed a bit artificial and contrived to me. The complete opposite is true of a live sex show. Marie didn't cheat to the camera or perform actions that might look interesting on screen, but added nothing to Michael's pleasure. She simply took his cock into her mouth, sucked long and hard trying to make him cum. One hand she wrapped around his balls, the other held firm the base of his long prick; I laid on my side, my hand inside my thong, just barely playing with my clit as Michael received what was certainly an expert blowjob. I almost wished I was a man just so that Marie could give one to me.

So talented was my friend that she could even take all of Michael's length into her mouth and down her throat. While he wasn't ridiculously endowed like a freak from an adult film, I myself couldn't get more than half of Michael's cock into my mouth, so I was duly impressed. Because she was a much better cocksucker than I was, I was disappointed for Michael when she suddenly backed off, freeing his wet cock from her mouth and said. "I don't want to swallow his cum," she announced. "I want to see him fuck you."

She didn't have to suggest that to me twice. Although Michael was eager to get off in her mouth, I was worked up enough that I wanted a cock inside of me. I yanked off my thong—I was happy to be rid of it—laid back on the bed and spread my legs. I could smell the scent of my eager pussy waiting to be satisfied. Apparently my perfume was enough to pull Michael away from Marie's mouth—along with a slight push of encouragement from her. He fell on me and slipped easily into my cunt. I immediately tilted my hips to accept his hard, eager thrusts and wrapped my legs around his waist, crossing my ankles so he couldn't escape—not that he wanted to.

"Oh, fuck her hard," Marie whispered from her spot on the bed. I was barely aware she was still in the room; when you've debauched yourself this much, it hardly matters if another person watches you and your husband fuck. It was just another thrill I was marking off some unknown checklist of kinks, erotic acts and fantasies I never knew I had.

Michael was already worked up by his oral treat from Marie, and I had been playing with myself that entire time as well, so it didn't take him long to grunt twice—like he always did—then shoot his cum inside my pussy. I locked up my limbs and let him slam into me harder and harder until he was done. Not that I minded in the least, each time his pubic bone hit the top of my pussy, he squished my clit and that was all I needed to cum myself. Once we were both done, he rolled off me and sighed in relief.

"That was wonderful." It wasn't Michael complimenting me; it was Marie applauding us both.

"Thanks," Michael said, happy to accept her compliment.

I snorted. He was too eager to be the center of any lauds.

"May I?" Marie asked. She made some gesture, I barely saw what she did since I was still coming down from my orgasm high and my eyes were half closed, so I went along with it.

"Sure. Why not."

A moment later I felt fingers probing in my cunt. At first I thought it was Michael, seeking to bring me off again, but then I realized something was amiss. It didn't feel like Michael's fingers. I opened my eyes to witness Marie probing my cunt while Michael happily watched her. She didn't notice me watching her at first, not that I pushed her away or tried to stop her. Plunging her fingers deeply into me, she scooped up Michael's sticky white leavings and brought them to her mouth. My eyes went wide in surprise; while I'd certainly swallowed my share of cum over the years, I'd never seen it eaten like that before.

"Delicious," she told me. "I was lying before. I did want to taste his cum, but I wanted to see him fuck you too."

I shrugged. What did it matter. Everything felt so good and wonderful, did it really matter if she wanted to eat my husband's spunk from my cunt?

"I've got a request," Michael spoke up. "I want to fuck Marie."

This announcement caused me to giggle. "Do you think I'll say no?" I asked him.

"Maybe," he hedged. 

I was certain that something had gone on behind my back when the two were talking, planning this evening. I decided to surprise him. "Go ahead," I offered. "I doubt you can get it up for her."

It's not that I didn't want Michael to have a good time, it's that I was feeling a twinge of jealousy to see how eager he was to fuck her. I wanted to be the center of attention; it was one thing for Michael to get a blowjob from her before he laid me, it was another entirely to see him fuck her. I had to hand it to him, though, just the idea was enough to make his cock stir, and then when she reached for him, he had a rampant erection in no time.

Marie smiled triumphantly, quickly stripped off her pants and oh-so-tiny panties to display her denuded pussy, then got on her hands and knees to present him with her skinny ass. She looked over her shoulder at us. "Well?" she asked, wiggling her hips to entice him forward.

He didn't need the encouragement. His cock was in his hand ready to guide himself into her sex, when he suddenly stopped himself. My heart skipped a beat; I wasn't sure if I wanted him to change his mind, or just go forward so I could see what he looked like when he was fucking another woman. "Do I need a condom?" he asked.

That's Michael, ever practical.

"No," she said, "I'm safe; I won't get pregnant." 

He hesitated just a little bit again. Was she lying? Did she want to get pregnant? Uncertain what to do, he looked at me and I nodded my head giving him my permission. I needed to see him fuck her. What woman wouldn't want her man to prove his masculinity by fucking someone else while his partner looked on.

He plunged his hard cock into her sloppy-wet cunt with a grunt. She replied with a slightly surprised yelp, then settled into a steady moaning and groaning as he pistoned his hips back and forth, slapping his pelvis into her taut ass. 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she groaned, trying to encourage him.

"Make her cum," Michael said, looking at me.

"What?" I was confused. He was the one fucking her, not me.

"Put your hand between her legs, find her clit, and get her off," he ordered me. Now it was my turn to hesitate. Was this something they had planned? Was he seeing how far he could get me to go? Or was it that he wanted to include me in the most intimate act two—or three—people could have.

What did it matter? Marie's finger's had already been in my cunt. I knelt down next to their coupled bodies, slipped my hand underneath Marie's body, slid my fingers down along her tummy until I encountered her sloppy pussy. It wasn't hard to find her clit, it was hot and bulging out. She felt familiar and strange at the same time, as if I were touching myself, masturbating, but through an odd veil. It was obvious she liked having her clit roughly rubbed. Just a couple of strokes made her cry out in pleasure.

"No," she half-whispered. "Too much."

I found my sadistic streak. Michael held her firm and I rubbed for all I was worth. This brought her off again and I laughed at her helplessness. It sounds crueler than it was for Marie's orgasms were hot and fierce. A minute later Michael, overexcited by two women performing all manner of sexual acts on each other, came hard inside Marie's cunt. He grunted several times, once with each thrust as he deposited more and more of his semen deep within her.

When I saw the bliss on Marie's face when Michael came inside her, my heart melted. She looked so cute and happy, there was no way I could be jealous or upset with her because it was just so beautiful.

Michael was all but spent after that and though we tried to encourage him, he slowly drifted off to sleep. Marie and I cuddled up together, soft skin on soft flesh. I couldn't resist slipping my hand between her thighs and feeling Michael's spunk slowly leak out of her.

"That was nice," I said to her as I slipped my middle finger up inside her shaved pussy.

She sighed slightly as I fingered her, then ducked down her head to latch onto my nipple. I didn't expect her to express any milk from me, but I was pleasantly surprised when I felt a bit of milk start to flow and looking down at my exposed breast, a few pearly beads of milk appeared on my nipple. I wiped the excess milk away and licked my finger clean as Marie continued to nurse. After a few minutes she pulled away unexpectedly and looked up at me with a mischievous grin. She scooted up to my face and kissed me; I could taste a bit of my milk on her lips. I was delighted when she didn't immediately break the kiss, but slipped her tongue inside my mouth. She fed me back my milk; it was sweet and delicious, especially after she had warmed it for me.

"Tasty?" she asked.

I didn't answer her and just kissed her back. We fell asleep while gently kissing each other. I never would have thought I would be sharing a bed with my husband and a female lover, but it seemed so right.



Cowgirl Ch. 06



In the morning she was gone, which was a good thing; you try explaining to your three year old why Mommy's special friend spent the night sleeping in her bed with Daddy. She did, however, leave me a present, of a sort.

"What's that," Michael asked when I finally managed to roll out of bed and stagger to the shower. I'm not a morning person.

"What's what?" I mumbled.

"On your ass," he pointed out and helpfully dropped a hand mirror down so I could catch the image that had been drawn onto my skin.

I tried focusing on the drawing, but I couldn't get my eyes to focus and catch my balance at the same time. "What is it?" I asked him.

He laughed and shook his head. "Well, I guess she wanted you to keep it on a while. It looks like it was drawn in permanent Sharpie."

Do you like the tattoo I gave you, she IMed me the moment I sat down at my desk.

NO! I immediately fired back.

I could almost hear her giggle in the next comment. It looked cute on your ass. You should think about getting it permanently done.

Put my husband's initials on my ass, like he owns me?

Yeah, why not, it would be like a brand. You are a cow, aren't you?

What she had drawn on my butt was a stylized version of my husband's initials, set up to look like an old style western ranch brand. I never saw myself as the type of person who got tattoos done, but then again I never expected to hop into bed with my husband and another woman or to be nursing both of them for their and my sexual needs. And besides, Michael said I needed something on the other side of my rump to balance out my cow tattoo.

Yes, I hesitantly agreed. Maybe I should get his initials branded on my butt.

Which is how I wound up back at Marie's tattoo parlor once again, my skirt on the floor and my bare butt exposed to the discriminating eye of Ian the tattoo artist. Marie was nowhere to be seen—at least by me. A few days previous she had finished the final few feathers on her angel wing back tattoo and upon entering the parlor had immediately stripped down to her tiny g-string so she could prance around the place showing off the final finished work to any and all who would look. Personally I was pretty sure she just wanted to be all but naked and show off her body to friends and near-strangers.

I was face down on the green leather table trying to relax, telling myself it would be a nice little surprise for Michael to admire when I got home. It seemed to me that Ian was being slow, the prep time was taking too long after he had transferred the design to my right cheek. I mean how long does it take to get a tattoo gun ready? He had already run a razor over what I was certain was an already hairless ass and then chilled me with a series of alcohol wipes. I could feel the room getting hotter while I waited, which was nice since I was half naked and I figured he must have turned on the heat.

"Ready?" Ian finally asked me.

"Uh-huh," I mumbled; I was in a half-doze from the room's warmth and my general laziness.

"You'll feel a sharp stinging," he warned.

Right, I thought, it didn't hurt that much last time.

Then a white hot burning hit my ass and I screamed and jumped up. I was certain Ian had set my ass on fire or had taken a knife and plunged it as deeply as he could into my flesh. "Calm down," Ian said, trying to relax me, but I was in too much pain to hear him.

Moments later Marie appeared in the small room. "What's going on?" she was still near-naked. Her nipples were adorned with charms dangling from her piercings. She wore only her panties and shoes. Just the sight of her was enough to calm me down. 

"He tried to kill me!" I accused him, pointing a finger at Ian.

He looked genuinely puzzled. "I was just doing the brand," he innocently insisted to her.

Marie looked down at his tools, clamped her hands over her mouth, and tried not to laugh. 

"What?" I demanded.

She got control of herself and managed to get out, "No, she didn't want a brand! She wanted her tattoo to look like a brand."

And so went the great brand tattoo confusion debacle. One of the many services the parlor offered besides piercings, tattoo and other assorted body modifications was branding. Ian had placed a white hot piece of wire on my skin to create a second-degree burn which would turn into a scar. I wanted a tattoo of a brand, not an actual brand.

"What do you want to do?" Ian asked me.

I twisted around, looked at the raised red line on my butt, gave it some thought and said, "I'm a cow. Might as well finish it."

I laid back down on the table. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?" I asked her.

"Yup," she agreed.

"They don't give anything for the pain here, do they?"

"Nope."

"Help me out then." I opened my shirt, pulled down my bra to expose my nipples. "Suckle on me."

To her great credit Marie didn't hesitate; she didn't care what Ian thought. Her suckling let my milk down and when Ian pressed the next hot wire to my skin, somehow the pain seemed so much less. Marie nursed on me through the entire process; something I can never fully thank her for.

It felt like my ass was on fire when he was done. I could barely drive home. The entire way I kept asking myself why I thought it was a good idea.

Somehow, when I got home, showed Michael what had happened, opened my shirt for him and lay down in bed together, it all seemed worth it. I was a cow, I had my brand to prove it. Best of all, I wasn't the least bit ashamed by it.

End.



Cowgirl Learns to Ride



"Come on! Faster! Come on you devil! Get up!"

Pat loved riding her steed. She called him Diablo. He was a three-year-old black stallion. She felt the wind streaming across her face. Her hat was hanging on by the strap.

"Come on, Diablo!" she shouted.

The cool prairie air made her feel good this morning. After Diablo's run, she slowed him to a walk. She stopped to open the corral and led him inside the barn and to a water trough. 

As he drank, she thought about her life. Her boyfriend, Beau, was a miserable pencil-dick urban cowboy. That was all she could find in this small West Texas town. The railroad once ran through here, but now it was a sleepy and decaying town with two bars and a dance hall.

She removed the saddle and bridle and sprayed water over Diablo's back and combed him down. Giving him a slap on the haunches, she watched him gallop out to the pasture.

Pat was a 32-year-old cowgirl who lived on a ranch west of Austin. By day, she ran a saddle and tack shop in the small ranching community of Little Prairie. Pat was a country girl, but she wasn't from Texas. She grew up in New England. After graduating from a prestigious New England college, she came to Austin, Texas, and migrated west. She loved the land, the fresh air, and the open spaces. 

There was only one thing she missed from college. It was cock, especially black cock. She shrugged and breathed a sigh. For now, she would have to be satisfied with white boys. Diablo was the only black male in her life now.





Cowgirl Learns to Ride



Harlon called her every day. Their sexy talk heated up. One night they talked until late.

"How did you learn to suck cock like that?" Harlon asked.

"I started in college. I had three black boyfriends. I gave them all blow jobs."

"One at a time or all together?"

"Both. I loved giving blow jobs to three black men. The word got around and after that, I had a lot of black friends."

"So why did you quit?"

"There are no black men out here. Only pencil-dick white boys."





Cowgirl Off The Silver Screen



I'm such a lucky girl. My girlfriend likes me to strip out of my suit when I get home from work and slip into something pretty. She gets incredibly hot and sexy if I wear an outfit that brings out my feminine side. Tonight for fun I've dressed as a cowgirl in sexy black western boots, knee skimming flared skirt and a cropped white sleeveless shirt that daringly flashes my midriff. Underneath I'm wearing a tiny pair of lace panties and a beautiful matching bra. And before you ask I've no pistol, holster or Stetson. 

My western attire was because the other night we watched a western on TV with Clint Eastwood. Afterwards in bed we talked about some role play and we both loved the idea. Her as the rugged cowboy and me as the demure young cowgirl. I had carefully dressed from a collection of suitable themed clothes I'd secretly bought off Ebay and was ready. I heard her climbing the stairs and a flush of excitement ran to my cock like a speeding train. My skimpy panties strained to contain my excitement. I carefully smoothed my layered skirt behind me as I sat on the stool. I crossed my legs, pointed my black boots and squeezed my smooth legs together. You took your time! I leaned forward slightly and brush my naked tummy with my trembling fingertips. On hearing movement on the landing I placed my manicured hands on my hips and struck a pose. You walk into the bedroom wearing nothing but baby pink, gossamer; see through dressing gown and a broad smile on your face. You're fingering a toy pistol suggestively. You watch joyfully as my eyes bright with lust travel all over your body as you slowly reveal yourself to me. My eyes pausing momentarily to take in the sight of your firm perky breasts, and then again lingering longingly at your shaven pussy. Naked, you trace the toy guns barrel over your washboard stomach and teasingly run it over your groin slipping the nozzle into your already wet pussy. You grin cheekily as you work the plastic barrel inside of you. I can't bear it and flutter my long eyelids and demurely uncross my legs and gaze up at you affectionately like a lost puppy. You beam like a kid at Christmas and drop to your knees before me. A wicked smile spreading across your face. 

You don't utter a word but I can tell you're excited as your amble breasts heave up and down with your every rapid breath. You stare me in the eye and without blinking grasp the hem of my skirt. Carefully you raise both hands, lifting my skirt ceremoniously as if unveiling a plague at a presentation. 'What have we here?' you smirk dropping your head and raising an inquisitive eyebrow as you peer underneath. I tremble shyly as you catch a glimpse of my tiny white lacy panties. I shiver with apprehension but your smile comforts me and I toss my head coyly to one side. My cock strains against the flimsy material bursting to escape. It twitches and a tiny damp stain darkens the pretty silk. You seem pleased and spring into action. With one hand still holding my skirt aloft you firmly prize my knees apart with the other. I resist playfully, my pulse rising, but you persevere opening them up like an oyster eager to see my pearl. You hook a twitching finger around my waistband and tug it wistfully. I giggle girlishly understanding your intention and lift my bottom slightly off the stool. Immediately you pull my panties down my thighs and over my knees allowing the materials restraint to pull my legs together modestly. You smile like a Cheshire cat then gently lift one of my legs and guide a foot out of the silky material. Free from any restraint you carefully prized my legs apart yet again while my pretty panties still on one leg fall crumpled round my ankle.'

My cock now free didn't dangle between my legs but sprang proudly to attention like a flagpole. You didn't need an invite as you suddenly disappeared under my skirt as if bopping for apples at a fete. I gasp and grip the stool with both hands. Your head under my skirt. I feel your hot breath and your inquisitive fingers on my thighs working their way inwards. I hold my breath as your hot breath closes in on my twitching member. You tease me as you pause momentarily hovering in front of my cock. I place my hands on your shoulders and spread my legs ever wider to accommodate your face that's now burrowing into me like a mole.

I open my glossy pink lips and plead for you to take me. I can't stand it any longer. 'Take me,' I scream. However you hover like a bee in front of a flower... Then I felt it... your hot, moist tongue, briefly at first. Just a quick lick like a child with an ice cream and then a slower more meaningful lick taking me deep within your sweet lips. I mumble something uncomprehendable. You slide your tongue up and down my shaft feeling its veins and circumcised head between your teeth. I tremble and squirm on the hard stool as you take me down your throat wrapping your lips round me. Feast on my cock, you devour it inch by inch, your mouth tongue and lips exploring every part of its quivering thickness causing me almost to explode.

I lean back against the wall, raise my boots off the floor so I pivot on my bum like a seesaw and wrap them around you for support. I hear frantic slurping sounds as you transport me off on a wonderful, pleasurable journey. Deeper and deeper you take me, washing me with your tongue until I cry out with pleasure. 

You're a terrible tease, bringing me to the boil time and again, but not letting me boil over until you judge that the time is right. I tense myself, feel ready to blow but you don't want that and sensing my state pull sharply away. I cry out in frustration, disappointment etched on my face, my eyes watering, my stomach fluttering. But you haven't finished with me.

Taking hold off my boots you pull me towards you causing me to fall off the stool with a gentle bump. Disorientated I lay backwards as you clamber on top of me, pulling at my skirt like a hungry wolf, pushing it back over my tummy disregarding the delicate nature of the fabric.

My aching cock exposed and proudly erect you take it by your hand greedily and guide it between your legs. 

You're sobbing wet and I glide easily into you. I feel the heat of your pussy enveloping my swollen cock until I'm all inside you, and then slowly at first but quickly gathering momentum you ride my cock like Cowboy Clint as he galloped across the prairie. 

I gasp in my best cowgirl voice as you bounce up and down on your knees. I shake my head from side to side and thrust my hips up and down rhythmically. I grip your thighs as you raise your hands in the air rodeo style and scream my name... 

As you ride me your pussy grips and squeezes my cock until my body disintegrates in a massive sexual storm, my very soul pouring out from my jerking cock as I empty myself into your hungry welcoming pussy.

Spent and exhausted you clamber off me satisfied. My panties round my ankle my skirt still above my waist we lie together in quiet ecstasy, lost in the magic of the moment.

Oh darling I wonder what film we will watch next that may fire my imagination and inspire me to dress the part.

Got any suggestions? I'd love to hear from you.

The End