Elsie the Cow Ch. 06

I was proud, you might even say I was overproud and far too full of myself when Benjamin wanted me to stay with him. Now that his first night with his First was complete, he was a full member of The Family and was free, under our traditions, to move among the women of The Famly and sample at will. All women wanted to be with a New Man. I know I always had.

But he showed no interest in that. He insisted I continue to wear the cobalt blue shift of a First, signifying that I was off limits to others until he released me. Every morning when he held out the blue shift for me I felt that rush deep in my belly and a wave of pure pride. You could call it hubris and you wouldn't be wrong.

That first week we must have made love 50 times, and it WAS making love. I was head over heels, crazy, stupid in love in a way I hadn't been since I made the Marriage Walk to my husband. I knew it was crazy and stupid. I knew it would end. But I was wallowing in this and happy.

And he was such a fast learner, I was receiving pure pleasure like I hadn't, well, maybe ever. Our "lessons" continued and we learned each other's tells, our likes, and those things that made us say "ewwww," but want more.

In part, it was the way he liked my milk so much. God, I would wake to the sensation of him nursing and go to sleep with the sensation of him nursing. In between he would sample and snack.

He was finishing school. All children in The Famly are home-schooled. We don't want them corrupted by the insanity we see in the public, or even the "private," school systems. He was preparing for the state-sponsored tests that would give him a state-issued high school diploma if he wanted to go to college, and working his part-time job at the repair shop that kept The Family's outdoor power equipment running.

I tended to my family's house, cooked meals that I left in the refrigerator, allowed whoever might be home to nurse, and was back to the First Cottage by the time Benjamin got home.

Well, here's a typical day in that first month.

I would wake, well before the alarm clock went off, to that wonderful sensation of his nursing while his hand explored, finding those special spots he was learning so well. The morning I'm describing, his mouth was latched on and I was flowing as I woke and, almost instinctively, moved my arm to provide a cushion for his head while my other hand lightly stroked his hair and I started humming a soft lullaby. His free hand was working its way down my belly, squeezing gently where that roll formed, and then probing under my clitoral hood to find that little button that always took my breath away.

As he took his fill he brought me along. Both of our rhythms broke while we adjusted so he could finish on my other udder. Then as he latched on his finger returned to where I was SO ready. He finished, releasing my nipple and then finishing me with a flourish, leaving me gasping for breath as he chuckled and rolled out of bed to shower and start his day.

I got my breathing back under control and followed him. In the shower, it was sensual without (quite) becoming sexual. I find there's something amazingly sensual about having a man wash my body. I LOVE the feeling of his fingers and a washcloth as he soaps and rinses those rolls that I'm afraid are getting more prominent every month. Mostly, though, it's the sensation of him lifting my heavy udder and cleaning the bottom where I seem to always sweat a little the way my tit lays against the rest of me. In Benjamin's case, it was even more sensual since he was young and inexperienced and it was all new to him. When he did between my legs, front to back as I taught him. I couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped.

And I enjoyed doing him too. There's something about scrubbing a man's face, shampooing his hair, and then doing his body, and yes, that includes that sudden erection, that gets to me. With all of the men I've ever showered with, and there have been quite a number, I always enjoyed doing their asscrack and butthole. I don't know why but I think it has something to do with the way they squirm when I touch that special private place.

Clean and dry, I sat him in the chair before the dressing table included in the First Cottage and shaved him. He was young then and hadn't decided on his beard style. Besides that, I found that if I shaved him every third day, that was enough. So this morning I got the mug and shaving brush and lathered his face before carefully polishing the blade on the leather strop hanging from the closet door. In The Family, one of a woman's responsibilities is to keep her man's beard looking good, and no woman is allowed to use anything but an old-fashioned straight razor. I think it's a trust thing myself, but I have enjoyed tending to beards since my first time, never mind how many years ago.

While he dressed I threw some bacon in the frying pan, dropped a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster, started Mr. Coffee brewing, and started making breakfast. He had nursed, of course, but a man needs some solid food too.

I fed him and dressed him, giggling as he got grabby, and sent him off to school. As a senior, he was in Eleanor's class and I happened to know that her spankings hurt, so I made sure he was out of the house in time to be on time for class.

I cleaned up around the house but there's only so much domesticity one woman should be required to handle.

House clean, beds made, and absolutely nothing on TV, I decided to venture out. My udders were engorged again, well, the right was engorged where he hadn't drained me completely, the left was just full, and I didn't think Benjamin would be home for lunch. I put on the blue shift, signifying my position as a First and, therefore, my unavailability. It felt funny, if I'm being honest, being this monogamous. I hadn't experienced anything like this since my first two months with David before I proved pregnant and became a full woman, available to anyone in The Family.

So I visited the MilkHouse. I wanted the companionship of women and there's no better place than that. I'm not sure why, but felt a little out of place as I walked in wearing my blue shift.

"Look at YOU!" Arlene said, grinning, and the mood was broken. Arlene is older than me and anywhere but this Family she would stand out with her HH cup breasts. Here she was just slightly above average.

I smiled and did a quick pirouette.

"He wants me to stay with him," I said and, yes, I knew as I said it just how prideful it sounded but I didn't care.

She smiled at that.

"How long since Emma was born?" she asked.

I knew what she was really asking but chose to just answer the direct question.

"Four years," I said, "she'll be starting school soon."

She met my eyes directly.

"Is she going to be your last, then?" she asked.

"I don't think so," I said, "and God knows I hope not. Jesus, I MISS being pregnant."

She smiled, sympathetically.

I don't know why, but I felt compelled to go on.

"Benjamin says I will be the mother of his first child," I went on, "and God knows he's willing to try to knock me up."

She laughed at that, and I felt it was laughing with me, not at me.

I worked the top of the shift off of my arms and down to my waist before sitting at the milking bench. I laid my udders on the cushioned bench top, carefully lubricated the teat cup with Vaseline to ensure a good seal, and wiped my nipples with alcohol. We're very careful about keeping things sanitary and the sudden chill made them hard, ensuring they would be tight when the machine started pulling them deeper.

"I haven't seen you in here for a while," Arlene said, breaking my reverie as I went through the process of getting ready to provide my addition to The Family's basic product and I giggled suddenly as the phrase "cash cow" ran through my mind.

"I've been busy, you know. Four kids at home and all of them wanting to be fed, a hungry husband," I wound down, realizing I sounded foolish.

She was laughing.

"Oh, Pauly," she said, "I was just teasing. With that brood, I'm surprised to see you here today. So spill it. What do you REALLY want to talk about?"

I turned on the milking machine, lifted and adjusted my udders slightly so I was comfortable and enjoyed the rush of purest pleasure as my milk started flowing, before I responded to her.

"What if Emma IS my last?" I asked, and felt the tears start running down my cheeks.

"Oh," she said, and then said nothing while she turned her milking machine off, freed her nipples, large and distended after her milking, pulled the little transparent inserts from the teat cups, tossed them into the trash, and carefully wiped the cups with alcohol swabs. She was taking her time and doing those basic courtesies that every woman in The Family is taught from her first menses.

Finally done, she moved to me and began rubbing my shoulders, a sensation that was so purely sensual without being sexual that it sent tingles all the way to my toes.

"Are you still having your periods?" she asked, her fingers finding little knots of tension and working them out.

"I miss some, but yes," I said.

"Okay, then," she said, making me yelp when she found a particularly hard little knot of tension and dug into it, "Are you ready to take Aunty Arlene's advice?"

"Always, you old crone," I said.

Now, don't misunderstand. That was not an insult or a joke. In The Family, women who had been through menopause were called crones as a badge of honor. We used the traditional meaning of the word, from when it was still considered to be describing the archetype of a wise old woman.

She giggled.

"Okay, youngster," she said, "If you're still having periods you're still fertile. What's your cycle?"

"Thirty days, regular as clockwork," I said. This was a bit of knowledge any woman in The Family could tell you.

"So," she said, "keep your calendar current." I watched as her eyes moved up and right as she did some mental calculations. "Count 12 days from the beginning of your next period and for five days enjoy that young man. Have wild sweaty monkey sex. Have gentle loving sweet sex. Have sex on your back and your belly and standing in the closet. But ONLY," and she smiled and waved her extended forefinger back and forth in the universal "don't do that" motion, "vaginal sex."

"Okay," I said, leaning back as she found another little knot of tension.

"Do that every thirty days," she said, patting my head, "and if you're not knocked up by August come back and see Aunty Arlene for some more sage advice from The Family's resident crone."

I caught her hand and kissed it.

"Thank you, Ar," I said, "I needed that."

She patted my head again and began working her shift, hers pink, the color signaling to all men that she was available, and said, "I'm always available, Pauly, but now I have an itch between my legs and an appointment with a man I enjoy."

With that, she was gone in a flurry of pink.

A couple of the younger women came in to make their deposits and we chatted. Charlotte, still carrying the baby fat of her first baby, hooked up at the bench next to me, her udders showing those stretch marks so many of us have, as they grew faster than the skin could manage. It's considered a sexy look in The Family.

She wanted to know what it was like to be a First, and I suppose I waxed a bit over-poetic as I told her how wonderful I found it.

Finally, I was drained. I turned off the milking machine before it sucked me completely dry and left me with mastitis. At my age and size, that is NOT something you want to experience.

I unhooked, cleaned up the equipment, shrugged back into my blue shift, and headed to my home. I wanted to check up on David and the kids. He was home as I figured he would be. David is a bit of a genius when it comes to financial things and he adds to the Family's finances in healthy doses while being free to stay home most times and do the things he does on a computer and the internet.

When I peeked into his office and said, "Knock, knock," he got up and turned around, smiling.

Okay, I won't deny that I kind of liked the way his face fell a little when he saw me still wearing the blue of a First.

"Just checking in," I said, smiling, "Benjamin's decided to keep me until I quicken."

He did the right thing, came to me, and hugged me tight.

"I'm so proud of you," he said, but I could feel the awkwardness.

"David," I said, pushing him away, "what?"

"Oh, it's nothing," he said, "just me being an idiot."

"What?" I asked again.

"I'm not jealous, really I'm not," he said and kissed me very gently, "but I miss you."

"I know, honey," I said, "but you know you never need to sleep alone."

"I know," he said, chuckling, "and I don't. But I'll be glad when he knocks you up and you come home."

I laughed at that and slapped his hand when he reached for my ass.

"Okay," I said, "Now I know you're okay so I'm back to fulfill my duties as a First."

And he laughed, the tension between us gone.

"Yeah, those duties must be agony for you," he said, "But get back to them, Sluterella."

I laughed, kissed him, and started back to the First Cottage. On the way, I stopped and got some groceries and a box of tampons. I was due and hoping my period would start so I could start the calendar going as Arlene had advised.

I puttered around the kitchen, making sandwiches so I would be ready when Benjamin got home.

"Tell me something you learned today," I said when he got home, after I kissed him.

He laughed, a hearty laugh, closed the distance between us, kissed me, a good kiss, squeezed my ass, and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt, pulling the shirt up.

I giggled and lifted my arms helping him.

"I learned that I'm addicted to you," he said, his fingertips brushing my udders making my nipples and areolas tighten, "and have trouble concentrating."

I laughed again, took his hand, and led him to the couch.

I sat, patted my lap, and cushioned his head as he settled in to nurse.

I drew a quick breath when he latched on and then felt that incomparable pleasure as my milk let down and started flowing.

I loved him right then, more than anything. His mouth worked slowly, taking nourishment and pleasure at the same time. His eyes were closed and in the perfect relaxation of his contentment, he truly looked like a baby.

But it most certainly was NOT a baby's erection I found when my fingers strayed down his belly.

I held him, not stroking or masturbating, I just held him as he nursed. I broke his latch with my finger, offered him the other udder, and held him while he drank his fill.

When he was satisfied he just opened his mouth and let my nipple fall free. The little dribble of milk it left was, I thought, sexy.

"Honey," I said, wiping the corner of his mouth with my fingertip, "I've lost track of my periods so we might as well explore new things."

I loved his grin.

"New things?" he asked.

"Come on," I said, lifting his head so I could stand. I was aware of my udders hanging heavy, and leaking, leaving wet traces down my belly. I felt perfectly female right then and utterly feminine, two different things if you think about it.

I led him into the bedroom and undressed him. I'm not proud of my performance. I'll admit that after my talk with Arlene, I was all keyed up, but I was supposed to be the teacher here. Instead, what followed was almost rape.

Oh, don't get me wrong. We both enjoyed what followed, but I was breaking the cardinal principle that guides all women in The Family. I was taking care of my own pleasure first.

"Something new, Benjamin," I said, crawling up onto the bed and holding the position, on all fours, back arched, my big ass sticking up.

I felt the mattress move as he crawled up behind me.

I laid my cheek on the pillow and reached back with both hands, spreading my cheeks, and said, "Use your mouth, Benjamin."

I wasn't sure if he would do it or not. I was remembering the first time David had wanted that, how reluctant I had been. But I was also remembering how wonderful it turned out to be, both giving and receiving, and was thinking that since I didn't know if I could get pregnant or not, it was a good time to teach Benjamin another aspect of sex.

His lips kissing where I held myself open took my breath away. It's such a special intimacy when someone does that for you, never mind the pure sensation of that sensitive place, all of those nerve endings, getting stimulated in such a special way.

But I wanted more. I wanted it all. I wanted that special orgasm that can only come from this. I suppose, on some level, it would be legitimate to say I was crazy right then. I was frightened that I wouldn't have any more children. I was still riding the high of being his First.

But none of that mattered. I wanted it and he was giving it to me.

So I encouraged him.

"That's right, Baby," I said, pulling myself open even farther, "Don't stop now."

I felt this tongue, warm and wet, tracing the circle of my anus, and my body shuddered.

"Don't stop, Benjamin, please don't stop," I whispered, my body shivering with what he was doing to me.

When he penetrated me, that sensation took over.

I screamed into the pillow and came explosively, I felt myself squirting, that special sensation so intense the pleasure merged into pain and then back to pleasure again while he probed with his tongue.

And sanity returned.

"Stop, Benjamin, stop, please, Baby," I cried into the pillow.

But he didn't. His fingers gripped my hips and he kept probing, his tongue in my anus, forcing another orgasm, another squirt, and then a third.

"Please, Baby, please," I was whimpering now, "please, enough."

When he pulled free the sudden removal of sensation was so complete that I collapsed.

He moved to lay beside me, his hand caressing my back, starting at my shoulders, caressing down to my ass, and back, while I lay there, helpless, spent, gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry," I said, over and over.

"Why?" he asked.

"Oh, Benjamin," I said, my breathing slowly returning to normal as I paid my body its oxygen debt, "I'm supposed to be concerned with your pleasure, not mine."

He chuckled, a wonderfully adult sound, and kissed my cheek.

"Oh, Elsie," he said and his use of my cowname, the name The Family gave me, told me he was ready to truly accept his place as a Man of The Family, "you did. It is my pleasure to give you those three orgasms you said a good man always gave his woman before considering his own pleasure."

When I started to speak he shushed me with a finger to my lips and then crawled over so his knees were between mine, laid his palms flat on the cheeks of my ass, and spread me.

"Say please," he said.

"Please," I said and he moved forward. I felt his glans touch my anus where he had me opened up.

"Say please," he said again.

"Please," I said, feeling the excitement build in my belly.

He slipped into my pussy where I was slick, pulled out, and took me anally

"YESSSSSSS," I hissed.

He swapped holes a half dozen times before I was lubricated enough that it was comfortable. And then it quickly moved beyond comfortable to that wonderfully full feeling a man can give a woman in no other way.

When he stopped his movement, I groaned.

"Just so you know," he said, and the calm, almost conversational tone he used caught my attention, "it's not better, just different."

It was surreal. I felt like someone must have slipped me some LSD or something. But I liked it.

"I know, Baby," I said, lifting myself onto my arms to look over my shoulder at him, "But a wonderful different, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said in that same conversational tone and then surprised me again when he started tickling my back. The sensation was so unexpected my breath caught and I felt my skin tighten as goose bumps rose.