A Conversation with ...
Hannah gripped the piece of paper tightly, her eyes moving back and forth between the address and the building before her. The bright red color along with the sloped roof made her think of one word - barn. Her phone had lost signal around half a mile back, but the address matched the mailbox she passed by at the end of the street. She pulled her car to the end of a long driveway and got out, feeling rather out of place in her business casual gray pants and button-up shirt. Her C-cup bust barely held in her shirt, revealing a hint of skin in the button area, but she'd never cared much about it. Compared to her friend Kelsey, she thought. Kelsey had a boob job a year ago and now looked like a prostitute with her chest barely covered in revealing shirts or tank tops. Nothing about that turned Hannah on and she'd never admit it if she was honest. If it did, then...
But this had to be some kind of joke, right? She made a face, trying to suppress the smell of fresh farm manure. She'd been promised an incredible postgraduate internship by her friend, Kelsey, and Sorority sister - nine months of free lodging and meals, along with a small stipend for what she imagined as a bustling city life. Unfortunately, there was no nightlife and no civilization within miles of this place.
She pushed aside her frustrations and began walking unevenly down the dirt path towards what looked like a white door on the barn. As she reached it, she heard strange animal noises. For a moment, she hesitated, pressing her ear against the door instead of just opening it. It didn't sound like any cows she'd heard before. Maybe goats? She gingerly placed her hand on the heavy metal handle, hesitant once more.
"Hannah!" a voice called out behind her, making her jump and spin around. A tall man with dark hair and a short beard was walking towards her, his broad shoulders covered in a flannel shirt and scruffy jeans. She felt very small as she took him in, reminding her of a farm boy in a romantic novel. She prayed she wasn't looking as red as she felt. "Welcome!" he said.
"How did you know my name?" she asked, a bit surprised.
He chuckled, a deep sound that made her feel tiny. "We're only expecting one interview today," he explained, "so I guessed you must be Hannah. Am I correct, miss?"
Hannah definitely felt her face flush as he referred to her as 'miss'. "Yes, sir," she replied, berating herself for the slip. She never used 'sir'. He just smiled at her like she pleased him, glancing up and down at her.
"I understand you're a bit overdressed for this operation," he said, "but don't worry. We can sort that out in a while. So, Miss, shall we go inside the house for a small interview?"
Hannah glanced at her car but decided to follow him. He seemed harmless and her friend knew where she was. Besides, she was desperate for a job and had the bold confidence of a new graduate. So, she went with him into the farmhouse right beside the barn.
They both sat down at the dinner table, where her resume was laid out, along with a few snacks and coffee. Only two chairs were set up - one at the head of the table where Dylan sat, and the other seat to the left of him. Hannah took a seat and had Dylan pull a chair out for her. She smoothed her chestnut-colored hair behind her shoulders and scooted forward.
"Help yourself," Dylan said, sipping his coffee. He looked over her resume in silence for a while, so Hannah took a sip of her own coffee to break the awkward silence. It was a perfect blend of warmth and the right amount of sweetness and bitterness. She noted hints of chocolate and plum. She had another sip and relished it.
Dylan didn't speak until she was finishing her cup. "So, Miss Kelsey is a year older than you, I assume?" he asked. Hannah nodded, glancing at the pot in the middle of the table. Dylan nodded again, then asked, "Do you have any family in this area?"
Hannah was too preoccupied with the coffee to find the question odd. "My family lives in Boston," she replied, thinking of the vast distance between this place and her hometown. She'd been awarded a pole vault scholarship to the University of Nebraska, which was as far away as she could get from her family. They didn't get along well.
Dylan remarked, "You've gotta miss them," looking over at her. She shrugged, observing her mug. To be honest, she didn't. He hummed in response, displaying understanding.
"Y'know, y'had okay grades," he went on. "Not the best, but enough to be an athlete. Not much else," Hannah winced a tad, as her grades were a sore spot. No good enough for him? "I'm serious, I tried!"
"C'mon, sweetheart, I'm sure you did." His calming voice comforted her a bit, and she took another gulp of the warm coffee. Relaxing in her seat, she let her guard down.
"What're you looking for in this job, exactly?" Still pretty hazy on the details, she'd only gotten a brief rundown from Kelsey.
Dylan leaned back in his squeaky chair, "Ah, well, the usual for an intern spot. Enthusiasm, eagerness to learn, being adaptable," he stuttered. Hannah flushed, picturing what his lips would feel like against her neck, and damn, Dylan's voice was so pleasant! "You're a pretty young thang, should've made it a whole lot easier for yourself."
Eyes flashed, but she just shrugged it off. An inexperienced cowboy, that's all he was. "Fine," she huffed. "But what d'you want from this position, then?"
Dylan leaned forward once more, "Gotta figure the same as most job hunters, gurl. Honestly, to have a go-getter like you. We ain't got but a minute, though, so if you're not that kinda gal-"
"What? I can be!" she snapped back, indignant. Lying through her teeth, she just wanted to please.
"Good enough." He set the resume down, then eyed her with an indulgent smile.
"But... in this position?" She inquired.
"You'll, uh, be shuffling about, keeping tabs on one of the handymen," he explained, and she nodded. "Alright, front and center."
Hannah decided to play along. "Okay, but what're you looking for specifically?" Straightening her posture, she said, "I want to be of use." Oh yes, my dear, be of use, she thought dreamily.
Dylan smirked, leaning back. "It's not exactly... complex, but it's vital," he answered. She sipped the now lukewarm coffee, feeling warm inside.
For some embarrassing reason, Hannah's body reacted. Do these clothes make my butt look big? Oh, fudge, now she was conjuring up fantasies. Relaxing, she unbuttoned her top.
Dylan looked a bit startled, then he chuckled. He pressed his fingers to her temple and bemused, "Oh! I didn't actually mean it like that."
Biting her lip, she blushed. "Sorry." She couldn't help but add, "anyways...what exactly amI* looking for in this job?" She thought earlier, was this a ploy?
Dylan got up, "Dey make a good coffee here. Let me getcha a refill."
Hannah unbuttoned his jeans while he was gone and marveled at how wide his boxers fit his waist. Hmm, Cinnabon, not sex, right? Okay. "Finish yer coffee, little lady, I'll take care of it all."
Hannah slowly undid the rest of the shirt's buttons and untied the lace-front, toning down the blush as she saw his evident hardness. She'd seen Joe do the same with her mom. Their neighbor, yucky...
Scarfing up the final coffee dregs, she removed her shirt altogether, exposing heaving bosoms in her black bra. Dylan returned to tour her. "Wow, but you're such a nice-lookin' girl," he said, moving closer. Those eyes! "Unbutton my" He said the "button" so triggersingly.
Suddenly feeling randy, Hannah followed suit and unbuttoned him, impressed. A dark patch at his groin, he was hardly disappearing. He reached down, unfurling her hands. "Now, lean into me here and smell." He guided her, and a whiff of his... it was so far from Cinnabon. Her thoughts waved goodbye as she inhaled, moaning. What the hell?
"Now, let's get properly comfortable," he urged, caressing her hair to pull her forward so she nipped at his groin through the boxers. "You don't need to rush now, sweetheart."
She moaned as she humped her seat, fingers jabbing at her buttoned jeans, panties soaked. What the hell was happening? 'Dey're so damn ironic.
He placed her hands back on her sex. "Can you tell me your name?"
She stroked herself. "Yeah, hello."
"Aww, that's cute," he said, though his words went in one ear and out the other. "You'll need to gain some weight, though." He moved his hand from her crotch - she was already caressing herself - and placed it on her breast. "You've got the hips, but a well-fed girl like you could use some bigger udders."
Hannah moaned again, fantasizing about expanding for him. The voice in her head screaming for self-preservation and rational thought was shrinking by the second. All she could think about was her dripping pussy.
"Stand up for me," he said, a sound she was growing fond of.
She obliged, stumbling slightly to regain her footing after sitting. She would've preferred to go down on her knees but wanted to comply with his wishes a bit more.
"Take off your pants," he directed her, "you don't need them."
She complied, fumbling with her buttons and ultimately hauling them to the floor. Her soaked panties came off, too, leaving her in this stranger's dining room, breasts covered by her fragile black bra, and a wet pussy on display. She trembled in anticipation, staring at his waist as he lowered his pants and underwear. He was larger than she'd anticipated - an impressive eight inches - and she immediately sank to her knees without hesitation.
"Show me how skillful your mouth is," Dylan urged her. "Prove you're smarter than you appear."
She wasn't, but she took his cock into her mouth because she craved it.
As she accepted him, she felt indescribably right. Like an itch all over her body that abruptly vanished. Coincidentally, at the same time, her chest, buttocks, and hips began to ache profoundly. Her head bobbed up and down on his cock, his hand in her hair, forcing her pace faster, deeper. She emitted throaty moans.
"Ooooh," she uttered, with a pause whenever his cock touched the back of her throat. He held it there, waiting until she relaxed her throat to accommodate him. He began to throat her, gradually increasing speed. She couldn't breathe, her lightheadedness complementing the intensifying pleasure in her pussy and body.
"Good, good," he encouraged her, her preferred term of endearment. She moaned around his penis, while his groans signaled his pleasure in her mouth. Then, for the first time, she heard him groan. It delighted her. She was eliciting pleasure from him. "Give in to it, dear. Let it consume you."
She felt herself evolving, becoming larger somehow - her breasts pressed against her bra, pleasurably at first, then uncomfortably. She whimpered, detaching her bra straps, but Dylan snatched her hands. "No," he growled, pinning her arms behind her back but allowing no freedom. "Let them expand. I want you to feel it."
Hannah whined but obeyed. She was his... his... his Dairy Maid, she contemplated, the title bringing meaning to her. If he desired her to wear her bra until her bosom burst, she would.
Even her pants had been removed. Her ass shook with newfound vulgarity as she bobbed, her hips and buttocks swelling. That's when she felt her breasts swell painfully. Right when she felt oddly unable to cope with the discomfort, he dragged her up by her hair, causing pain in her scalp and distracting her. She cried out, then moaned as he ejected his cock and shoved her onto the table. "I'm going to fuck you," he notified her, "thank me."
"Thank you," she vice-gripped, feeling his cockhead prod her wet pussy lips. Fluidly, he thrust into her all the way to his balls.
She hollered and wept for a little while, but only a little while. When he withdrew, the void in her vagina drove her to crave him. He whacked her rump with his palm and thrust back in. Striking her again and again, she moaned, climaxing on his cock, but he hadn't finished with her.
Over and over, he drove his cock into her, reducing her mind to two focal points: the overpowering weight of her swelled tits against the kitchen table, and the push and pull of his cock revamping her insides. Once in a while, he'd smack her again, prompting her to moan. Her moans, declining in human resemblance, accompanied each strike.
What's going on? What's happening to me? Some part of her mind yearned to inquire, but all that emerged was a muffled "Ooooh, mmmooooooh, moooo-" accompanied by another climax around her Master's cock. Simultaneously, her tits escaped the confines of her bra, wildly splaying on each side, as she was taken beyond any logic or reason.
"Ahh, ahh," Master hummed contentedly, and she felt the shudders from her orgasm. Despite having experienced multiple climaxes, she was still brimming with lust, longing for yet another. Unfortunately, she was speechless, leaving only more moaning as she remained impaled on his penis.
When he secured something around her neck – a collar – and tightened it, "Say your name for me, sweetheart," Master demanded, but she was at a loss for words.
Her voice was a mangled "Moooohhh, mooo," and he chuckled.
"You could be promising," he quipped, leading her by her steeled collar. Her body jiggled and relaxed with its newfound weightlessness and submission, her professional persona entirely abandoned. "Let me show you around the flock. You're joining us." She went along willingly, completely naked, as he dragged her out of the kitchen and towards the barn that would now be her humble abode.
Read also:
- Lisa's Milk Issue: Chapters 6-7
- Boot Him Out Part 3
- Dominant Futanari's Life: Chapter 34
- Julie Attends a Wedding: Part 12
Source: www.nice-escort.de
