Elsie the Cow Ch. 05

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He softened and slipped out in the way of men the world over.

I pushed, gently, and he rolled off of me. Laying there, side by side, face to face, I kissed him again and then had him settle into the crook of my arm.

“Here, baby,” I said, brushing my nipple against his lips. I loved watching him, well, okay, I love watching every man and not a few women, as his mouth opened and he took my nipple. There was that gentle pressure at first and then stronger as he latched on, taking more of my udder into his mouth, his tongue massaging the firm areola and nipple against the roof of his mouth, encouraging me to flow. I sighed with that pleasure only a woman can know as my nipple relaxed and my milk started flowing.

I hummed a little lullaby as he nursed.

I brushed a few stray hairs away from his face and whispered, “I love you, Benjamin.”

He was suckling hard now, feeding, his eyes were closed, and I thought, “There is nothing more beautiful than feeding another from your body.”

I felt his hips starting to rock and reached down and patted him. “No, baby,” I said very softly, “that’s for later. Now drink your fill.”

He settled and nursed.

I lay in that glow only a woman can understand and thought as he nursed. This Family, this Community is most certainly a Patriarchy. No one in the Family would argue with a decision Charles made. But all of the women knew that many of his decisions and positions were guided by his wife, Phyllis. Women, since Oog the caveman hit Oogla over the head and dragged her into his cave, have understood how to, well, “guide” her man is a good word.

That is what I intended for Benjamin. He was the Man of the House in our relationship, no matter how long it lasted. But as the Lady of the Manor, I figured I could be persuasive.

My reverie was broken when my nipple started hurting and my beast was empty. I used my finger in that way women have since we were still living in trees and broke his latch on my breast, adjusted our positions, and offered him the other nipple.

“Here, baby,” I said.

He smiled up at me, a little of my milk dribbling out of his mouth, and said, “I’m full.”

I smiled back.

“But I’m engorged, honey,” I said, brushing his lips with my leaky nipple, “so help me.”

His brow furrowed a little, I could almost see him thinking, Then he grinned, said, “Okay,” and latched on.

But he really was full and after just a minute he opened his mouth and released me. So there I was with that unequal feeling, one udder drained and fallen, the other not quite engorged but still full. So I rolled out of bed and got the pump out of my overnight bag. No woman in The Community would ever be without her pump. Breast milk is one of the primary products, oh, hell, is the primary source of income for The Community and I wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

He watched, fascinated, as I lubricated the cup with Vaseline to ensure a good latch and started the machine running with its soft little whoosh-click sound.

“Damn,” he said in a soft exhalation.

“God, Benjamin, take a picture,” I said, but I was giggling, “it lasts longer.”

He kissed me then, a good kiss, and then said very softly, his lips right at my ear, his breath warm canlı bahis siteleri little puffs as he spoke, “I am so glad I chose you as my first.”

I smiled up at him, feeling that contentment only a woman pumping can know, and said, “So am I.”

He watched as I carefully sealed the plastic bag, put it into the refrigerator, and then cleaned the pump equipment and put it back into its case.

As I put everything up I felt him behind me, his hands coming around to meet at my belly button, his erection hard against my ass.

“You said something about a next lesson?” he said softly.

I captured his hands in mine, brought them up to my lips, kissed them, and leaned my head back.

“Who knew,” I said softly, “that I would be the first for a rabbit.”

He laughed softly and said, “Can’t help it. You have me addicted.”

I wiggled my ass a little against his obvious interest.

When he reached down and aimed between my cheeks I giggled and turned around to face him.

“Patience and control is the name of the game, today,” I said.

I led him back to bed and had him lay back.

“Patience first,” I said, kissing my way up his body and then laying next to him, kissing him, a soft lingering kiss.

When he started to push my shoulder, wanting me on my back I caught his hand and used my weight to push back until I had his hand up beside his head.

“Patience,” I said, covering his face with kisses.

When he started kissing back I kept my hold on his hand but moved it down to my hip where I released it.

“Patience,” I said again, my hand moving to his hip and then slowly caressing his skin.

His hand started moving, slowly this time, not demanding, and I rewarded him with a soft hum and a little squirm.

“Men are SO easy to manipulate,” I thought, “even those you’re head over heels in love with.”

“That’s nice, Benjamin,” I said, my hand finding his ass and pulling him to me.

Then his hand was at my shoulder again, pushing, and I was resisting.

“PATIENCE,” I said for the third time.

He sighed theatrically, making us both giggle a little, and slowed down.

His finger traced down my belly, finding that little crease at the bottom, below my navel, where my eight pregnancies had left me with a little pot belly that hung down. Well, okay, it wasn’t JUST the pregnancies. I come from a long line of big girls and ran true to form. I didn’t have that full belly apron yet that gave my mother and grandmother along with a half dozen aunts and cousins their natural modesty, but there was that little soft roll for him to play with and me to enjoy.

“That’s nice, Honey,” I said, covering his hand with mine and guiding his finger under my clitoral hood to find that hard bud of my pleasure center. “Like this,” I said softly, piloting his finger into the tiny circles that I like.

He was a quick learner and I was a good teacher. Soon he had me squirming.

“That’s right, Benjamin, like that,” I said as that wonderful pressure, that special agony/ecstasy of a building orgasm, grew in my belly.

He kissed me then, a good kiss, taking me closer to my release.

“That’s right, Baby, like thaaaaaaaaaat,” and I came.

It bet siteleri surprised me.

Oh, I’m not hard to bring to orgasm, but I usually needed a longer build-up. I suppose it was the situation as much as anything. I was still keyed up over being chosen as his First.

Anyway, I came, my back arching, hips bucking, and my pussy squirting. I get messy with my orgasms.

I guess I cried out although I didn’t mean to, because he released me and leaned back, meeting my eyes, asking, “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

I giggled, a little breathlessly, and said, “No, Baby, I’m the precise mathematical opposite of hurt. Thank you.”

He smiled and kissed me.

“Next lesson,” I said, my breathing slowly getting back to normal.

“Yes?” he said, his eyes bright. When I waited, breathing, getting myself back to normal, he kissed me. He WAS a good student and it was a good kiss, gentle but full of desire, the right amount of pressure, the right amount of tongue, his hands busy, caressing my cheek as he held the kiss. A VERY good kiss.

“Next lesson,” I repeated when he broke the kiss.

I pushed him away far enough to focus on his eyes.

“No woman in this Family will ever say ‘no’ to you, Benjamin,” I said, “but if you want to be wanted, if you want to be the man we all want to father our next baby, then you’ll learn to give your woman at least three orgasms before worrying about your own pleasure.”

He smiled and his finger found my clitoris, taking my breath away.

“Wait,” I said, catching his hand and gently pulling him away.

“Did I do it wrong?” he asked, looking every bit the abashed student.

“No, Honey, no, you did it right but there are other ways to give me what I need,” I said, holding his eyes with mine.

“What would you like?” he asked, and in that instant, I realized he was no longer a boy. He was truly a man, ready to please his woman.

“Wellllllllllllll,” I said, giggling a little and deliberately drawing out the syllable, “there’s your mouth.”

“Oh,” he said, and there’s one of those words you see written but never use.

“Oh,” he said, looking abashed.

“Yes, Honey,” I said, smiling, “A man should enjoy the taste and scent of his woman.”

He hesitated a fraction and I said, “I won’t force you, Benjamin, but it’s something we’ll both enjoy.”

He smiled then and moved so that his knees were between mine.

He held my eyes until his disappeared under the rise of my belly and my udders.

I felt his fingers at my unshaven labia, playing, tugging at the hair there, and then that wonderful sensation of a man blowing gently, cooling me in that most private place.

I heard him inhale deeply and knew my scent, laden with pheromones, would affect him. And then his tongue was probing and I came.

Again I was surprised with the suddenness of my body’s reaction. God, this new Man in the Family was making me feel like a teenager again.

It was the sound as much as anything that gave me that third orgasm I told him about. The first powerful rush of my climax was past but I could feel as my body continued pushing and squeezing, my natural lubricants flowing freely. And I could hear him slurping noisily as he drank en iyi bahis siteleri my pleasure.

I felt his fingers open me and then his mouth suck gently, drawing my inner lips forth and making them swell pleasantly.

When he released me and lifted himself to meet my eyes across my belly and udders his face was wet and shiny.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, “now fill me up.”

He grinned, a completely adult expression, and said, “No more lessons then?”

“Fill me up,” I said again, “Plant your seed, Benjamin. Put a baby in me.”

His grin spread, obviously enjoying his new role.

“Say please,” he said.

I couldn’t have stopped my own smile if I had wanted to, and I didn’t really want to.

“Please, Darling, please, give me the mangift I need. Fill me up. Help me be a woman again,” I said, not entirely acting. I hoped new seed might quicken me again.

I pulled my legs back, parting them and pulling until my knees touched my nipples, offering myself in that way of a woman needing a man.

He was gentle as he moved forward, his erection pointing straight up his body. He guided himself, and I shuddered, as I always did at a man’s touch in that way that promised so much.

I couldn’t draw breath as he slowly entered me. As he eased inside, stretching me in that way of a man, I squeezed, wanting to hold him. I did the quick arithmetic, counting from my last period, and thought I might be ovulating and had a quick fantasy that this would be the start of that baby I wanted so badly.

He was gentle but he was young and inexperienced and hair-triggered.

He came with a shudder and I squeezed, holding him inside of me, sealing us together as my arms wrapped around him to pull him to me and my heels dug into his ass, wanting him to stay. He managed to say a few seconds but then, in the way of all men, softened and slipped out with a gush of his semen running down my ass.

“Grab a pillow, Benjamin,” I said, grunting with the strain of holding my hips up.

“Huh?” he said, confused, and making me giggle.

“Grab a pillow,” I said again, “and put it under my butt.”

I giggled more at the confused look on his face but watched as he moved to comply.

“Double it up, Honey,” I said, grunting again as I lifted my ass higher.

He did and I slowly relaxed, the pillow under my butt holding my hips elevated.

“What?” he asked, standing beside the bed and looking almost comically confused.

“Come here, Benjamin,” I said, holding my arms out.

He crawled up onto the bed beside me and I kissed him, a gentle, loving kiss.

“The pillow helps make it more likely I’ll get pregnant, Honey,” I said, my hand lightly caressing his arm as he lay beside me, watching my eyes.

“With my baby?” he asked, eyes big.

“Yes, Benjamin,” I said, smiling at him, “Your baby. OUR baby. You paid me the greatest compliment a man in this Family can pay a woman and I want to make it complete.”

“Oh, God,” he sort of moaned.

“Don’t you want to make me pregnant?” I asked, unable to stop the sudden rush of tears.

“No. Yes. Oh, fuck,” he said, and then we giggled together.

“Yes,” yes he said, “I’d LOVE for you to have my baby. No, I didn’t mean I didn’t want that. Yes, oh, Paulette, yes, YES. I KNEW I chose well.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice bubbly through my tears.

“No,” he said, rolling up to kiss me and, hard again, to slip inside again.

He didn’t last.

But it was good, anyway.

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