Naked Thirst Ch. 01: Prologue

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The beautiful Asian woman waits, naked, hands and knees on a low, black vinyl bench. Her flawless brown skin glows under diffused light, back arching to display flaring hips and rounded ass. On her heavy breasts, droplets of blue-white moisture gather at the swollen tips, like dew on a flower bud about to bloom.

A second woman approaches, also bare skinned. She’s older, less generously endowed, with a tanned, toned body that moves with practiced grace. She kneels before the bench and gives the other woman a long, sensuous kiss. Their lips part, and the petite woman asks, “Are you looking forward to the party tonight?”

The young woman nods, her high pony-tail bobbing up and down.

“We’d better prepare the refreshments.”

The woman on the bench licks her lips in anticipation as the dark-haired beauty in front of her turns and picks up a pair of long acrylic cylinders that rest atop a small machine. The kneeling woman flicks a switch and a soft, rhythmic hum fills the room. She carefully positions one of the cylinders under a full, soft orb and then presses it into place. The machine’s balıkesir escort suction makes a tight seal.

There is a sharp intake of breath as the mechanical vacuum pulls and distends first one thick, brown nipple and then the other, as the second cylinder is attached.

“Is the suction too strong?”

Face tight with discomfort, the beautiful Asian shakes her head, determined. In a few seconds her expression smoothes, becoming a languid smile as her body adjusts to the determined tug of the milking machine.

The cylinders quickly fill with milk, which drains into a bottle on the floor.

“Do you think we’ll have enough?” A man’s voice interrupts, soft and deep. He stands to the side holding a camera.

The woman on the floor runs her hands over the lactating woman’s face, down her shoulders, and gently strokes her breasts.

“I think so, but why don’t you come over here and help with . . . inspiration.”

The man carefully places the camera on a tripod and then walks behind the woman on the bench. He’s naked as well, his huge cock swollen balikesirmetroturizm.com and throbbing. Wide hips lift to greet him. He grips them with large, strong hands and plunges forward. There is a gasp and then a moan as he begins working in a slow rhythm, his muscular legs and ass flexing with each stroke.

“Yeah, baby, fuck her good,” the woman purrs, checking the flow of milk. “Fuck the cream right out of her.”

He picks up his pace, drawing more sounds of pleasure from the woman. Her breasts swing wildly as his hips slam forward, threatening to dislodge the milking attachments. The woman on the floor reaches forward to steady them, and takes the opportunity to press her lips against the young woman’s gaping mouth, swallowing her moans.

The three stay bound together: the lactating beauty the focal point, the man pumping his pleasure into her eager, young cunt, and the woman drawing that pleasure from her mouth with lips and questing tongue as the milking machine pulls sweet, white liquid from her swollen tits.

The slap of flesh on flesh escalates. Sweat drips and breath comes in pants and groans. Finally, the man grunts and withdraws his throbbing cock, pumping it hard in his fist, sending a rain of thick, white globs all over the ass and back of the woman on the bench. On the opposite end, the kiss is broken and the petite woman reaches up to wipe a pearly drop of cum from her cheek, before licking her finger. Then she checks the pump. Only droplets splatter the inside of the cylinders, so she reaches over to turn off the machine, carefully removing the attachments from hugely swollen, purpling nipples. She notes the level of liquid in the bottle with satisfaction as the woman on the bench curls onto her side, protecting her tender teats. The other woman pets her head gently.

“I can’t wait for tonight. I love sharing your milk with our guests. They all appreciate it so much.”

The prone woman smiles sleepily.

“It goes so fast. Too bad you can’t make more.”

“I think we’re getting all we can expect,” adds the man, returning to his camera.

“It seems so,” she agrees, and rests a gentle hand on the tender flesh of the young woman’s breast, the engorged areola glistening with drying milk. “I think its time to find you a friend. Would you like that?”

A sleepy smile and an eager nod confirm that she would like that very much.

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