David Shaw, Victorian Messenger Ch. 03

"Well milk him girl; imagine he is one of the cows in your father's farm," said her Mistress.

"Oh, I do now see m'am," said Daisy Perkins and I lay there with my arms by my sides with my head inside the young girl's skirt and petticoats and stared at her gyrating buttocks under her starched cotton bloomers.

She was clearly used to milking as before long I felt the familiar tingling of semen building up deep inside me ready for my ejaculation. I was determined to delay my pleasure for as long as possible and wanted her milking never to cease.

Daisy milked away; each long stroke was followed by a short strong as her young thin fingers pulled and pushed my foreskin up and down and over my glans. I had never experienced such expert wanking before and marvelled at the girl's skills.

Soon I was at the brink, the very edge of pleasure. I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes as I felt it well up inside me. I held back for as long as physically possible. I rammed my face up into her arse and shouted " Yes" and released seven spurts of boiling semen into her fingers and whatever else lay in its path.

I could hear Perkins and Lady Huntington whoop with delight at the slimy, stringy stuff that had escaped from my loins. I felt completely 'shagged-out' and in need of refreshment.

"Take Shaw down to the kitchen and give him some tea," said Lady Huntington to Perkins as if reading my mind.

I felt that I had had a very satisfying morning and wondered what else Maynard and Son had in line for me for the rest of the day, and indeed the rest of the week.