Did Pam and Zach Obtain Milk?
The ongoing shenanigans of Pam and Zach. Let me specify that all characters are over 21 years old. While enhanced for entertaining purposes, experiences similar to these truly took place.
Zach longed to be drained and inserted...We came close...
One sultry Sunday afternoon, we were toiling in the yard. Zach was trimming the grass, while I, clad in cotton briefs, my shortest cut-off denim shorts, and a fitting white tank top knotted beneath my chest, was planting some perennials and spreading mulch in the flower beds. The day was blazing hot, with temperatures nearing 93 degrees and humidity at 85%.
When Zach concluded the first half, he ambled over, smirking. His forehead, chest, and arms were drenched with perspiration. Swiping his hand across his face, he uttered, "I had to check out your breasts staring through the armholes of your top from across the yard."
I laid down my garden spade and intentionally raised my top, subsequently lowering it tightly against my chest. I observed that my perspiring had rendered my top semi-transparent, causing my newly erect nipples to seem as if they were straining to poke through the fabric.
"This is the grittiest, wackiest wet T-shirt competition I've ever participated in," I chortled.
"Yeah? You've actually been in a wet T-shirt contest?" Zach inquired.
"Only once, in college. Suffice it to say, with these small breasts of mine, I never had a shot at winning. I just joined in for laughs. Most of my cross country teammates participated as well. We had a blast."
I perceived Zach was still observing, so in my sexiest voice possible, I suggested, "I'll end what I'm doing when you're done. Then we can both unclothe on the back patio and hose off." Zach merely chuckled, caressed his groin, and wandered back to finish mowing. Back at my gardening, I couldn't help wondering, 'It continually astounds me how swiftly I can excite him'.
When he concluded, I gathered my gardening tools and walked alongside him as he pushed the mower to the backyard shed. Following his execution of this task, he popped back outside to snatch the half-open sack of mulch. In an attempt to add to the seduction, I unfastened my top and undid the zipper on my shorts, exposing my now moist panties. Attempting to strike a sensual pose, I hoisted an arm to a rafter and placed my other hand on my now angled hip.
Zach, ferrying the mulch about 20 feet away, eventually raised his gaze upward and beheld my lackluster attempt at seduction.
"Holy moly! You're the sauciest garden gnome I've ever witnessed," he expressed.
Placing the mulch down in the corner, he positioned his palms on my waist. As he leaned in and kissed me, I encircled my arms around his neck, pressed my breasts against his torso, and passionately invoked my tongue into his mouth. As our tongues clashed, his hand delved into my shorts and I sensed his fingers curling in my sodden undergarment while arousing my genitalia.
Pulling back, I confided in his ear, "If we weren't so sweaty and mucky, I'd have intercourse with you here."
"I thought you favored sexual intercourse whereby we both perspire," retorted Zach.
"I do favor shedding perspiration during intimate relations, yet I don't want that filthy penis of yours to pollute my immaculate vulva," I humorously corrected.
"I can't fathom your vulva being pristine at the moment," Zach jested, resulting in us both laughing heartily.
Rubbing my palm along his now erect phallus, I vowed, "I'll more than compensate for it this evening." I darted toward the back patio to find the hose, removing my shorts and panties first and subsequently dousing myself. Washing off the grime and stench from my hair and complexion, I was concluding as the water cooled. Zach moved toward me, disrobing. As soon as he straightened up from piling up his shorts and undies, I sprayed an entire stream of water at his groin, hitting his still erect phallus.
"Wow! That's cold!" he yelped. "What in God's name was that for?" [asked Zach]
"I'm just trying to calm your excitement and lower your expectation," I chuckled. I knew better than to hand him the hose, so I dropped it at my feet and dashed into the laundry room, closing and locking the storm door before he could spray it. I pressed my chest against the glass and stuck my tongue out.
"Did you lock that door, Pam?" Zach asked as he held the hose over his head, washing away the results of a hot and humid day's work. "Pam? Did you?"
"Uh oh. It might have accidentally locked when I closed it," I teased. "Would that be a problem?"
"You're not going to make me run around naked to the front door, are you? Seriously?"
"Run? Never. But if you were to walk around there, I promise I won't lock that one too," I said, knowing it was already locked. I wrapped myself in a towel from the laundry room and casually strolled to the front door. I got there several seconds before Zach, holding his hands to cover his privates, sneaked around the corner of the house and onto the front porch. When he reached for the handle and found it locked, his face went into panic mode.
"Come on, Pam. Please?" he pleaded, looking back over his shoulder toward the street. I was just smiling on the other side of the glass, counting to ten. Then I unlocked it and held it open. He quickly dashed inside and stood against the wall, out of view of anyone who might be coming down the street or watching from their window.
"In my defense," I explained, "It was already locked."
He reached out, grabbed my towel, and yanked it off me, then ran into the living room, leaving me now totally exposed in front of the door. Foiling his intentions, I stood there for a second before nonchalantly closing and locking the door behind me, thinking at that moment, "I might be starting to like the idea of being somewhat naked in public."
Zach used my towel to dry off, then wrapped it around his waist and went into the kitchen. "I'll start dinner while you get a shower," he announced.
"That's great," I replied, headed for the bathroom. "I'll finish it up and set the table when I'm done so you can get cleaned up."
"Deal," he responded.
We were enjoying a really nice meal and having pleasant conversation when, out of the blue, Zach asked, "Do you know what a milking table is?" I froze for a second or two, never expecting that question to come up at dinner.
"Actually, yes, I do," I answered confidently. "Do you?" I had to ask.
"I believe it's like a massage table, right? But there's a hole cutout so that my penis and testicles can stick through."
"You're right. It's a table for milking cows," I answered matter-of-factly. "And the hole allows..."
"It gives you easy access to my." he stopped, looked nervous, and stammered, "You know...my parts...so you can..."
"So you can what?" I asked, wanting to hear him say it.
"You can jerk me off or maybe..." he hesitated, then continued, "Maybe give me a blowjob."
I didn't want to make fun of his embarrassment, as I've been trying to get him to open up for a long time about everything, not just sexual things.
"If this is something you want to try, we can certainly figure something out. We could get a massage table and you're good enough to be able to cut out a hole. But I'm a bit tall to fit under that comfortably enough to enjoy giving you pleasure. What would be better is a set of old bunk beds we could set up in the basement. I'm sure we can find a cheap set on Marketplace. However, before we dive into that, I want to make sure it's something we both will enjoy doing."
"I've seen a video and it looked interesting and I thought it might be something you'd enjoy as well," he said, still feeling guilty about revealing his desires.
"Zach, my dear," I said tenderly, "you don't have to justify your desire to try something new by adding that it might be something I'd enjoy as well. If you want to try it, then we'll try it. I always find pleasure in making you happy."
And, we don't have to wait till we get a table. In fact, we should see if you enjoy the technique of milking before we spend any money on a table. I've seen those videos, and I think there's a position we can do to simulate that technique."
Just saying that phrase out loud made me hot and damp down below. "Why don't you clear these dishes and the kitchen so I can get a few things ready?"
Zach couldn't contain his excitement any longer. That only encouraged my "Dirty Pam" personality to come out.
While engaging in my task, I left to obtain a blanket and covered the sofa back, seat, and front, as well as a portion of the flooring. Subsequently, I proceeded to our cellar and extracted a toy from our cabinet, which I concealed adjacent to the couch. venturing to our bedroom, I removed my attire except for a pair of panties. From our plaything box, I procured lubricant and the cock and ball ring. Following this, I acquired my dildo and removed the pretend penis attached; replacing it with a 8-inch, fleshy, vein-filled, balls-hard, realistic silicone penis dildo resembling a genuine male appendage. I had yet to introduce this dildo to Zach, and tonight was the ideal time.
While caressing my 8-inch imitation penis, Zach arrived from the kitchen.
"Is... is that intended for me?" he inquired, understanding what was occurring.
"Were you interested?" I inquired in return.
"I'm uncertain," he responded.
I vacated the couch and walked over to him, massaging my "male member" as I did so. Lifting up his T-shirt, I removed it. My fingers maneuvered to his nipples while my lips locked with his in a passionate kiss. Concurrently, I rubbed my "dick" across his groin and thigh. Afterward, I yanked his shorts down to his knees, lifting them off his feet with my foot. He was already erect. I positioned my "dick" and his in our hands. Rubbing them together, I lingered at his nipples, while savoring our lip-lock.
"Grab hold of mine and stroke it," I instructed, initiating the stroking myself.
Zach complied.
Standing upright, we stared into each other's eyes. Zach began to perspire. Next, I guided him to the couch, sitting on the edge; legs apart while leaning on my arms.
"Crouch between my legs," I urged.
Zach gravitated to his position.
"Do you fancy being penetrated by a strap-on this evening?"
"Yes," he confirmed, indicating his consent.
"Demonstrate the way you prefer a mouthjob on your dick."
Unhesitatingly, Zach took hold of my artificial penis with two fingers. He redirected his fingers, moving up and down, proceeding to lavish his tongue on the pinnacle. He then enveloped his lips around its circumference, strongly capturing it with each reverse motion. He subsequently lowered it, darting his tongue along the shaft before regaining it and bobbing it in his mouth. Alternating movements, he rubbed his other hand over my balls.
"How come you entered my vagina instead of simulating a cock sucking?" I inquired curiously.
"I was picturing it as your anus. Or yours... I mean, my anus," he enlightened me. He persisted in sucking me off.
Fortified by his oral actions, my pants were thoroughly moistened. I permitted him to continue for a few more minutes.
"That was incredibly arousing," I affirmed gratuitously.
Detaching my calves from the bench, I maneuvered him into a vertical position facing me. Placing my lower legs on his torso, he laid upon the couch with his arms resting on the seat portion. Observing the sweat on his chest, he was visibly sexually aroused. After pinning his arms to the seat, I pressed his face between my legs, teasing his nipples with my fingertips. My breasts, now rubbed against his trunk. Note how he grimaced as his dick throbbed, imploring my touch. When it became unbearable, I lifted my legs and captivated his organ with my tootsies. He writhed in anguish as I caressed his penis using the soles of my feet. Sweating profusely, he whimpered for me to touch his genitalia.
Sometime later, I paused to afford him a break.
Handing him the cock and ball cinch ring, I clarified the purpose. "Put this around your balls, making your male organ intimately hard." Extricating his toes, Zach securely attached the ring, keeping his manhood rigid and firm. I removed him from the sofa and placed him with his rear facing the cushions; his arms flat on the seat. Subsequently, I fetched our spreader bar, also from the basement. Securing it to his ankles, I eyed the stretching apart of his lower limbs, "Will this position suffice?" Inquired I. Unphased by the five-position setting, he consented.
Anxiously, I whispered, "On the off chance that I peg you before engaging in anal play, I desire to experience your anus with my tongue. Would you enjoy that?"
Dealing with the cushions, he only nodded, unable to form a response.
I knelt between his legs, gripping his manhood as firmly as I could. Toggling the spreader bar had been my best move for rimming; it'd spread his cheeks apart, enabling me direct access to his erogenous zone. With my tongue, I licked the full length of his shaft, across his balls, and along his perineum before circling his pucker hole. I tantalized him, pushing against the opening, wanting to evoke a moan.
Exactly that prompted a high-pitched moan. Consequently, I switched to licking furiously and, finally, I used my fingers to spread apart his sphincter. I then stuck my tongue as deep as possible. Zach was subtle enough to shudder, arching his spine and utter growling noises. In response, I retracted my mouth and proceeded to lick his entire butt-hole.
Concurrently, I creamed up two fingers and proceeded to penetrate him, preparing him for what was to come next.
Inspecting if he's alright, I interrogated, “Anything wrong? You might want me to stop. Are you ready?"
Zach seemed breathless, cheekily responded, “If you stop now, I'll kill you. You're going to milk me, aren't you?"
Sure, I was, but not merely that. I lubed up a vibrator and placed it against the ready hole, the coldness of the lube causing Zach to surrender.
“I am going to milk you, alright. Right after I fuck you." A few seconds later, I jammed the vibrator’s head past his ring.
A cry of anguish from Zach, chanting, "Ohhhhh GOD!" issued forth. He capitulated to heavy panting, raising concerns that he may pass out. Still, he said, "Don't stop."
Honoring his request, I eased it until it filled him up. Zach's hot body couldn't seem to contain his passion.
With that, I agreed, "I will Fuck you," and commenced to slowly penetrate him. Considering the thickness of the toy, it was an absolute delight to see it spread his sphincter wide. I inhaled and slid it deeper with each movement. The sight of watching it open was reminding me of my vagina's pleasure. Thrusting steadily and showcasing no sign of control loss, I toppled upon skipping regular intervals.
To my surprise, Zach was begging me for harder pounding. Hence, I deviated from the steady rhythm and thrust him with all my might, never letting his body resist my efforts. Sweat from my deepest nicks showered his damp skin, fueling different sensations. I sustained this speed for an indefinite timeframe, each moment feeling both euphoric and primeval.
Aware of his imminent eruption, I paused to allow him enough time to reinstate his calmness. Zach begged, "Don't stop": – I had no plans. Bringing the dildo closer to my cock, I added some more lube for better conditions. "Milking" now was inherently intended for the next part.
After zeroing in on the dildo's head, I passed it through his tight sphincter. "Ohhhh God!", he shouted. Reacting to his exaggerated screams, I pulled it back. As I focused intensively on extracting it, he cried, "Don't! Continue!"
Overjoyed by his response, I planned on withdrawing the vibrator, but his fascination for rougher sensations saw me resume with its usage.
His dream had come true. "Faster, faster!" he constantly preached. I responded with rapidity to his demands, my position barely maintaining my balance. Sweat covered my chest, ensuring a gleaming look. Neither his body nor mind could offer an accurate concept of time. With every thrust, a new velvety skin rag was layered above the previous layer of his musk, announcing my unrushed actions.
Barely seconds had passed before I recognizing the climax drawing nearer, indicating a minimum delay from his initial unsolicited moan. Through sheer willpower, I held on – my close-knit muscles contracting, quivering, and drenched in sweat. I detached myself and realized my terrible mistake. My thoughts were misplaced. I'd wanted to milk him... not fuck him.
Crawling up beside him, I furiously chastised myself: "Sorry, Zach. I got overeager there," admitting my loss to his passionate request.
"That's okay. This is something else tonight," he affirmed, a sparkle of joy in his voice. Confessing, "I'm glad you didn't stop," his words reaffirmed my own passively detached attitude.
Read also:
- Breeding Me: Chapter 2
- Early Timber Rising
- Entering Expert Status Once More
- Seeking Amor At Any Expense
Source: www.nice-escort.de
