Cowgirl Ch. 04

Marie was surprisingly cool and distant at work, which I appreciated because it would just be too odd for her to suddenly become my best friend just because he got tattooed together, I saw her tits and she put her hand on my ass. I did take closer note of her, however. And I could tell that she always wore a padded bra to hide her nipple rings, though I didn't look too closely. I didn't want to be caught leering at another woman's breasts at work.

I discovered Marie was fun. She liked to send me emails and notes through the day. She had a wicked sense of humor and a sharp wit that she kept otherwise completely hidden from our co-workers. I began to trust her more and more—why not? She had seen my bare ass and who knows what else. But I didn't yet trust her enough to tell her the secret that Michael and I shared.

Between Michael's nursing and my regular sessions with the milking machine he had created, my breasts felt full almost all the time. I purchased a small hand pump to take to work. In the middle of the day during my lunch I would slip off to one of the private lockable offices and pump to relieve some of the pressure. It was almost too much to bear during the day. If I didn't get a chance to pump I would often wind up letting down my milk the moment I saw Michael at night. He took this to be a sign of love, even though I always told him it was simply a physiological reaction. It didn't mean anything like love. But you try telling that to a man sucking milk from your tits.

Michael started taking pictures of my ass and my tattoo, sometimes when I was lying on the bed, sometimes when I was on the milking machine. It started off with him saying he just wanted a few pictures of my tattoo. I knew it wouldn't end there; but I didn't try to stop him. Maybe I liked the extra attention he gave me because of my tattoo. And pictures were harmless enough.

He was admiring my ass and tattoo while I was hooked up to the machine one night when he started on his next conquest with my body. "You need something on the other cheek to help balance it out," he said, tracing my cow tat with his fingers.

"It's not on my ass cheek," I said. "It's on my hip." I knew this wouldn't hold true with him.

In response he brought his hand down sharply on my tattoo, slapping the flesh off my ass. "That's your hip?" he asked.

I giggled as the milker sucked another squirt of liquid from me. "No."

"Then we're going to put something over here to balance you off," he said drawing an invisible circle on my right cheek.

"I'm not getting another tattoo."

"No, not a tattoo..." he said thoughtfully.

"You're thinking too much," I told him over my shoulder.

He just grinned back at me.

My breasts hurt, I typed to Marie one day.

That time of the month coming?

No, I replied. No now, I think I'm skipping this month.

Skipping? She asked.

Sometimes I skip a month.

Pregnant? She asked me.

I shouldn't have been message chatting with her at all right then because I was trying to concentrate on a claim. Which partly explains my next comment to her. No. I've been over-milked I think.

I didn't notice the long pause between this and her next message. I wasn't paying close attention.

Over-milked? Her message came to me. What? Does he nurse like a baby from you?

The moment I looked at the message I knew I was busted. My face flushed red and my stomach hardened and sank through the floor. I was certain she could feel the heat from my face even if she couldn't see me.

My pause was too long because she followed her message up. You there?

Yeah. I typed. What else to say? Michael likes to, you know, drink my milk. My legs were shaking and I could feel my breathing stop. What was she going to think or say?

I knew there was something kinky about you. She would have included some stupid smiley icon if our work messenger allowed it. That's kinda hot. Kinky hot.

Don't tell anyone! Ever!

Who would I tell?

That was true. Marie hardly ever spoke to anyone at work; and if I was keeping her secret then she could certainly keep mine. Okay, just don't tell anyone. It's kind of embarrassing.

Tell me about it; it sounds hot.

So I told her. Everything. Including the way he likes to nurse from me. The way I have to wear my bell, the way he likes to fuck me, the reason why I got my tattoo, the way he likes to watch me on the milking machine.

He built you a milking machine?

Yeah. It's weird, but kinda feels nice when I'm in the mood for it, especially when I'm too full and he's not around to drain me.

Kinky. Can I try it?

I'd never thought about sharing my milker with anyone else. It seemed a little bit like asking to share someone else's vibrator. It's perfectly okay to use one, but you just don't share it with a casual acquaintance, even a friend, unless you are physically intimate with that person.

Um. Yeah. Maybe. It's really just a breast pump hooked up to a frame.

And so a week later, when Michael was out with friends and I had put the kids to bed for the night, I was dragging the milker out from my bed to show Marie.

"Oh, it's simpler than I thought it would be," she commented. I looked down at the familiar piece of machinery.

"Yeah, sometimes simple is better," I commented, feeling a little like I was showing her my secret stash of porn or sex toys—probably because this was a sex toy.

Without saying anything else, she pulled off her shirt and was in the middle of unhooking her bright white padded bra before I could gather my thoughts and speak again. "What are you doing?" I asked her, completely shocked.

"Trying it out," she said as she manipulated the small balls that held her barbell nipple piercings in place. "You said I could."

Not really I thought to myself, but in the presence of her naked breasts I found myself unable to protest. "Oh."

She looked down at the machine. "How does it work?" she asked, obviously eager to try it out.

"You get down on all fours—knees and elbows, forearms really—put your breasts in the funnels, turn on the pump and off you go."

She got down like she was supposed to, her skinny ass pointed into the air, but no matter how she tried to drop her chest down, her tiny tits wouldn't reach the cups. I had to get down on the floor with her to adjust the height controls on the suction funnels. It was a challenge making the adjustments trying not to touch her breasts, but somehow I managed to do it with a minimum of skin to skin contact. I don't think she noticed.

"Turn it on," she said once she was happy with the placement. She looked up at me as I was about to flick the switch. Her eyes were shining with eagerness, completely in contrast to my reaction when Michael first showed me the milker. My heart nearly melted when I saw her in that position, submissive and eager; it made her beautiful and sexy and I suddenly wished I had taken advantage of her—at least a little bit—while I was helping her into the milker.

I flipped the switch and her eyes widened suddenly as the suction kicked in, grabbing her virgin breasts and pulling them. I knew from experience it wasn't exactly painful, but the first time using the machine can be a little shocking. Through the translucent plastic I could see her pink nipples elongate, then spring back as the machine let go. "Oh," she moaned, surprised at the ferocity of the milker. "That's...nice. Harsh, but nice."

The machine fell into a steady rhythm, sucking her nipples and giving her pleasure. I didn't realize how focused on her breasts Marie was, she was obviously building toward and orgasm. I wondered how much her nipple rings stimulated her and if that was why she had them done.

I laid down on the bed and watched her. "Do you like it?" I asked her.

"Mm-hmm," she sighed. "It nice. It's good. No wonder you let Michael do this for you." She glanced down at the collection bottles hanging beneath her. "No milk yet."

I laughed at her. "It would take you weeks, months even, of stimulation to start you lactating."

She half-closed her eyes and moaned. "I could get used to that. I wonder if my boyfriend would like me to do this for him." She wiggled her ass a bit, showing off her excitement. I had never seen another girl orgasm in front of me (porn films don't count) and I wanted to see it happen now. I laid on my side and slipped my hand between my thighs, not stimulating my pussy just yet, but leaving it close enough so I could feel the warmth I was generating.

"You've gonna cum," I said softly to her.

"How do you know?" she asked, wiggling her hips trying to stimulate herself some more.

"I can tell. Let it happen," I ordered her.

"Uh-huh," she agreed, shaking her head. A few beads of sweat broke out on her brow and moments later she cried out in pain, pulled away fro the suction cups and slipped to the floor, tears slid down her cheeks. "Oh, that was wonderful," she whispered to me. "No wonder you love your husband."

It wasn't exactly why I love him, but seeing her getting off, made me want to masturbate as well. "Do you mind if I get off?" I asked her.

"Go ahead," her voice was husky and distant. I doubt she even understood what I asked her. It didn't matter. I opened my pants, slipped my hand inside my panties, found my wet and slippery clit, and in a minute I was moaning and shivering with desire. Another minute later a wave broke in my body and I had my own orgasm.

We lay their together, quietly, for a few minutes. It was Marie who broke the silence. "Can I watch you use the milker?" she asked.

"Uh," I stammered. What did it matter now. I wasn't exactly sure how far one could go and still be considered a straight girl, I was pretty sure I had already crossed the line to bi-curious. "Sure, why not?" I got up from the bed, unbuttoned my blouse, pulled off my nursing bra, kicked off my pants because at the end of the day I insist on being pant-less, and knelt next to the machine.

Marie moved over to make room for me. I adjusted the funnels back to my height, positioned my large breasts into the cups and hit the switch. When the suction first pulled at my nipples did I realize I was wearing only my silky black panties, which were partially soaked with my juices and starting to slip into the crack of my ass. I realized all of this and it made me feel sexy so I was happy to show off in front of Marie.

"Wow!" she exclaimed as the first squirt of milk issued from my nipples and the thin white liquid flowed down into the collection bottles. "That's so cool. And sexy."

I smiled at her as she watched more and more of my milk dribble into the bottles.

"Do you like how it feels when it's pulled from your tits?"

"It doesn't hurt, sometimes it feels really nice." She moved around behind me and put her hand on my left ass cheek, pushing up the material of my panties. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"I want to see your tattoo," she said. By now it was as if I were wearing a thong, but it felt good and sexy to show off in front of her.

I had barely started filling the bottles when Marie suddenly shut off the pump. "I want to taste it," she said. "I can't wait for the bottles to be filled."

"Okay," I agreed. What did it matter to me? I pulled my boobs off the suction funnels and started unscrewing one of the bottles, when I felt a mouth on my left tit. I looked down at Marie's face. Her eyes were closed and ecstasy was on her face as her mouth as attached to my breast, sucking the milk directly from me.

I was scared, but it felt good. I told myself I was just nourishing another human being. There was nothing wrong with what we were doing, I had to remind myself. My free breast was dripping slowly so I grabbed a cloth I kept next to the milker and soaked up the excess milk. I wasn't sure if I was in love with Marie, but I loved what she was doing to me.

"Let's lie down on the bed," I told her softly. She broke her latch on my nipple and nodded her head. We crawled up on the mattress, I laid on my side and she took up my breast again, slowly, steady pulling my milk from my tit. I watched as her jaws worked, keeping the suction going as I stroked her hair and just enjoyed the sensations, relaxing with my friend.

Eventually she drained my first breast so we shifted positions and she settled into my other breast. It was stimulating and relaxing as well. We didn't feel the need to have sex, but Marie wiggled her hand between my legs and cupped my pussy through the silk of my panties. It was nice, so very nice that it took no effort at all for the two of us to fall asleep in each other's arms.

We were woken by Michael, who flipped on the bedroom light and announced, "Lesbians are hot."

"I'm not a lesbian," I complained sleepily, squinting my eyes against the light. My protest was weak; it's hard to claim pure heterosexuality when you're sharing a bed with a half-nude woman while wearing only a pair of panties. And wet panties at that.

"Bi then," he amended. "Still hot."

"We're not lesbians," Marie spoke up. She sounded more awake than I was, maybe she hadn't been sleeping, but she certainly wasn't shy about letting my husband see her naked tits. "We didn't have sex."

He held up his hands in protest. "I'm not judging. Though I wouldn't mind watching..."

"That's okay," I said rolling off the bed and grabbing my bathrobe to cover up. Yeah, Michael had seen me naked hundreds of times before, but somehow in front of Marie, it felt wrong...or at least dirty. "I think we're done for the night." Those few words were enough to completely crush Michael's spirits. Too bad, I say. I invited Marie over for me, not him.

Marie, on the other hand, wasn't the least bit shy about showing off her body. She casually and languidly rolled off the bed, and instead of looking for her shirt or bra, she found her nipple rings that she'd placed on the dresser and casually started to re-insert them. Michael goggled at this uninhibited display of sexuality.

"You sure you two ladies don't want to have a little ménage a trois?" he asked anxiously.

"Maybe some other time," Marie said after slipping on her shirt and patting his lightly on the side of his face. He was too stunned to have any reaction. "I'll see you tomorrow at work, sweetie," she said to me, moved in quickly, kissed me in a way that I could only describe as intimate, and swept out the door.

Michael was on me in an instant, pulling off my robe and opening his pants to display a rampant cock. "What are you doing?" I asked him, pretending to be uninterested in what he was doing.

"Fucking you," he grunted, pushing the head between my wet lips.

"Oh," I sighed as he started thrusting in earnest. "Did Marie excite you so?"

"Yes!" he cried out. "I'm going to watch the two of you fuck," he told me. I'm sure he thought it might have been pure fantasy, since I had always demurred whenever he suggested a threesome before, but with Marie, it was much more likely to happen.

Not that I was going to encourage him.