Maid for Milking

Vanessa de Sade

Description

It's 1939. The Great Depression still ravages the Kansas plains, and young Lizzie Ljunggren has just given birth. But, fecund and full-breasted - and possessed of the sweetest milk in all the state - it isn't long before Lizzie's in the service of the black-veiled Mistress, owner of a mysterious organisation called The Farm, which lists human milk as one of its many 'services.'

Sujets

• Erotic literature

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 03 octobre 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783339938
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title Page
MAID FOR MILKING
Vanessa de Sade



Publisher Information
Maid for Milking
published in 2014 by House of Erotica
an imprint of Andrews UK Limited
www.houseoferoticabooks.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © Vanessa de Sade 2014
The right of Vanessa de Sade to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.



Prologue
Firefly Summer
It was a summer of hot and searing winds. A summer of lean times and going a-hungry for most folks. A summer of flickering wildfire lighting in the red-and-blue-bruised evening sky, empty Coke bottles clinking against each other in the old tin tub at McIver’s Store, that day’s ice long-since melted. And it was a summer of small radio stations playing Woody Guthrie ballads and Robert Johnson selling his soul to Old Tom Devil down at the crossroads. But it was a summer of sadness too, and, for young Lizzie Ljunggren, it was the summer that both her folks got took with the cholera and she found herself sent to live with her stony-faced Aunt Em.
And the tragedy is that it could have been a summer like any other. Dull, hard-working, uneventful, and lost in the grime of memory along with all the others, like so many old photographs in a box that you look through one day and say, now when was that? Nineteen thirty-eight or thirty-nine? Except that it was that summer that Lizzie got her first serious attack of hot britches, and a devil got into her and took control.
And things might even have still worked out okay if it hadn’t even been for the presence of Tom Handley, that cock-sure strut-about farmhand that Em Ljunggren went and hired against her better judgement. Though there were some as said that even the Iron Em liked the way the boy looked, and maybe there was a little bit of hot britches affecting the old wife herself, even though no-one was going to come right out and say it out loud.
Anyway, that was the incendiary set up that tinder-dry and dusty August. Lizzie was in heat, and Tom was right there on hand to assist with his big cock all nice and obvious under his faded denims, sniffing around her like an old hound dog and ready to make his move at a moment’s notice. And so it wasn’t too long before she was sneaking out to meet him in the hot firefly sunsets, the air alive with the little glowing dots that served as fairy lanterns to her eager imagination and made it easy for her to believe him when he told her that he loved her, down in those warm and fragrant corn rows, far away from the lights of the house and her aunt’s ever-critical tongue.
And it could all still have passed harmlessly, because Lizzie knew what was what, having been a farm girl all her days, and she knew full well what the consequences would be if she took Tom’s big red-raw doggy dick right up inside her cute little pussy, like he wanted her to. So most nights they just lay and kissed and she let him put his hands inside her dress and stroke and touch, but she finally became lost to good sense that hot and balmy night when he pulled her panties right off and then lifted her skirt up to look at her sleek little cunt, all neat and furry and nestled like a quivering bird in the creamy vee-joint of her thighs. And then he made the clever move of not touching but going down on her, softly kissing and licking her at her tiny blonde minge until it was slippery, then splitting her glossed-down little pussy like it was a fresh Turkish fig, all gleaming and golden on the outside, but red and fiery within, and all wet with sap and begging to be kissed.
And, freed from the customary restraint of having her panties round her ankles, she just opened her legs for him like Moses parting the Red Sea, her hands in his hair as she pushed her pussy into his face, clit like a sap-slick pecan, bare ass grinding in the rustling ricepaper-dry corn stalks and dirt, begging him to lick right up and down her aching slit and then crying out and whimpering when his tongue-tip neglected her stiff little girl-cock for more than a few seconds.
And it wasn’t like she hadn’t come before or anything. Her friend Mabel Desmond had been playing with her own pussy for nearly a year before she showed Lizzie how to do it earlier this summer in the hay loft back home, and the two of them had spent a lot of happy hours up there, first of all with just their hands in each other’s britches, then graduating to stripping each other down to the last stitch and kissing naked, Mabel’s big white udders squashing into Lizzie’s beestings as they ground their cunts into each other’s thighs and experienced the joys of mutual orgasm that only two girls in heat can accomplish.
And even cock-sure Tom knew his way around a pussy pretty well, though you’d have expected him not to care, but the boy got a lot of satisfaction out of pleasing his women and it made his big fire-tipped dick extra hard when he felt Lizzie’s cunt start to convulse and he heard the profanities on her lips as she writhed in little-death agony under his skilful finger tip. Not that she was difficult to pleasure, of course, and her big corn cob of a clit poked up all red and obvious amidst all the soft wet pressed-ham folds of her slippery pink labia as soon as her legs were even slightly parted, so let’s not be giving the boy too much Casanova credit here.
However, the pussy licking was a work of inspired genius, and would make her come and come and come, usually three or four times in row, and it wasn’t long before they would both be naked and she have him straddle her, taking his big sticky cock into her mouth with none of the usual farm girl reticence that he’d met before, sucking at him hungrily and sometimes swallowing all his hot salty come; other times slipping him out just as she felt him stiffen and his big heavy balls tighten, taking the pyrotechnic shower of thick white semen on her face or all over her tiny little tits, the big pink nipples all hard and stiff like candy stalks.
And she always let him take more liberties with her then, having surrendered her hymen to his curious fingers long since as he pushed insistently up there, one finger deep in her slit, a second made slick from her pussy juices and then pushed slowly but firmly up her ass, her little puckered pink orifice offering no resistance to his penetration, his tongue never leaving her hot hard clit until she came and then devoured him back, never wanting to indulge in simultaneous cunilingus with him but preferring to pleasure him once her own needs had been met.
And he was particularly hard tonight, his cock - normally like something that you’d see on a horny old hound dog, stiff as broom-handle and all red and purple like a ripe plum on top - more like a stallion’s dick today, all aflame against the dark animal fur of his pubic hair, his balls fat and heavy like a stud bull’s, strong muscular legs apart as she descended on him, looking like she was going to go down on him but licking her fingers instead and then taking his big monster cock in one tiny hand, the other reaching under his balls and finding his own tight hole.
“What the hell you doing, girl?” he muttered, sounding peevish but not resisting her.
“Ass-fucking you like the bitch you are,” she replied with uncharacteristic candour, probing deeper and feeling his tight heat as her finger slid inside, claiming him for her own. “Come on, boy, bend over for me and let me have my way with you. I’m hound-horny tonight and nothing else will do.”
And though Tom’s face first looked affronted it quickly became, well, calculating; and he nodded and rose silently up on his elbows, clambering up to his knees and turning his back for her without a word and offering up his tight hairy butt.
And Lizzie thought that she was about to wet herself and come simultaneously as she parted his legs, saw his big hairy balls swinging and his tight anus all exposed. It was a like a sullen starfish, light ochre brown in colour, not sugary pink like Mabel’s or her own, and sleek and secret nestling between the light downy fur of his inner cheeks, and she bent quickly to lick him and make him slippery, like a pussy, and then pushed her finger up hard, taking his huge girth with her other hand as she fucked him remorselessly, imagining that her pleading clit was a huge heavy cock and that she was giving him the ass fuck of his life, coming like a gusher as he yelped like a stuck pig and his thick white jism shot out of him and onto the dusty ground, orgasming so hard that it looked like he was pissing jizz.
And it got her so horny that she never even noticed when he flipped her deftly over onto her back and climbed onto her, his cock slipping so neatly up her hot wet cunt that she wondered why there had ever been a day when he hadn’t been inside her.
And that was her downfall.



Chapter 1
Sargasso Sea
And so the hot and dry summer came and went, and soon the first icy winds of November blew bitter as the lush and fragrant days of Fall metamorphosed into a winter’s chill, the soft morning mists giving way to biting winds and a witch’s caress of early snow. And, as Lizzie’s belly fattened and grew with the child inside her, her body, too, began to change and lose its girlish dimensions. And, though she never grew any taller - there were some things th