The Milkman

She swallowed again, and quickly she snatched the empty carafe from Scotty's milk carrier and lowered it beneath his dick. Scotty's balls erupted again and his load dumped into the carafe. Mrs. Anderson used her hand to pump Scotty, aiming his cock into the bottle, milking him. Scotty continued to unload into the bottle, his dick milk nearly filling the carafe. Mrs. Anderson's hand warmed itself against the glass of the bottle as it filled with Scotty's fresh seed.

Scotty was out of breath as he sat on the kitchen table. He relaxed and his eyes softened as he looked at Mrs. Anderson, her little hand still stroking him. His eyes widened as he looked at the milk bottle in Mrs. Anderson's hands. "Did that come out of me?"

Mrs. Anderson giggled. "Yes, it did, Scotty," she said. "And I have a feeling there may be just a bit more left in there." She gave his dick a long, strong suck. A wave of orgasm came over Scotty one last time as he shot one final load of ball juice into Mrs. Anderson's eager mouth. Scotty shivered. He looked down at Mrs. Anderson. His dick was lodged deep into her face. She had the gooey white stuff all over her lips, some of it was running down her chin. She was a mess, but there was something radiant about her, Scotty realized she had never looked more beautiful to him than she did right then.

Mrs. Anderson gulped down his load and she let his dick fall from her lips. "Thank you, Scotty; that was wonderful."

Scotty smiled sheepishly at her. "Aw, shucks, it was nothing."

Mrs. Anderson stood up, still clutching the fresh carafe.

"Mrs. Anderson," Scotty asked. "What is that stuff?"

Mrs. Anderson shook her head and smiled at him. "Don't you worry about it Scotty. You'll learn about it soon enough."

Scotty's dick was beginning to soften. He got up from the kitchen table and collected his clothes. He realized that though Mrs. Anderson had removed his shirt, he was still wearing his black bow tie. He pulled up his pants and buckled his belt. He grabbed his shirt but Mrs. Anderson stopped him.

"Scotty," she said, placing her hands on his. "You know, it's getting warm outside, maybe you could finish your route without the shirt."

Scotty was puzzled. "Without my shirt?"

"Yes," she replied, gazing at his body. "You have an incredible body, Scotty. It'd be a shame to hide it. Here," she straightened his cap, took his shirt from him and stuffed a corner of it into the back of his waistband. "There, that's perfect."

Scotty stood there in his new uniform sans his shirt. Mrs. Anderson licked her lips as her eyes poured over his chest muscles. She handed him his milk carrier. "Now, where are you off to next?"

Scotty thought for a moment. "Next I am delivering an order for Mrs. Gilford."

"Mrs. Gilford, next door?"

"Yes, mam," he replied.

Mrs. Anderson turned to her telephone and began to dial. After a moment, "Yes, Violet? Good morning this is Elizabeth. Yes. Listen, I just received my delivery from the milkman and he'll be on his way to your house shortly. Yes. Yes. Well, you'll never believe it, but there's been a change in carriers. Yes. Well, you'll never believe it but it's little Scotty Stephens. Yes! Yes!" She laughed. "Absolutely. Oh yes, I'm sure you will. Ok dear, I'll see you this afternoon. Goodbye."

She hung up the phone and walked over to Scotty. She ran her hands over his chest once more and gave him a soft, tender kiss. "You run along now, Scotty. I'll see you soon."

Scotty tipped his cap to her. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Anderson." He walked out of the Anderson home and made his way next door to the Gilford's little white frame house. He skipped up the back steps to the kitchen and knocked on the door. "Milkman," he called.

A voice came from inside the kitchen. "Come on in, Scotty."

Scotty opened the door and let himself inside. He hadn't even returned to his milk truck, he hadn't even filled his carrier with Mrs. Gilford's order. But it didn't matter. There would be time for that later.

Propped against the kitchen table was Mrs. Gilford, a young housewife, fresh and stunning. An emerald, silk bathrobe hung open from her shoulders, her bare breasts exposed, her pussy peeking out at him.

Scotty swallowed. "Mrs. Gilford?" His dick began to fill with blood again.

She smiled. "Yes, Scotty."

A crooked, boyish smile began to spread across his face. Scotty was beginning to understand. It was all coming to light. He tightened his grip around the handle of his carrier; he was the new milkman of Maple Street. He licked his lips. "It seems I forgot to grab your milk from the truck, Mrs. Gilford."

Mrs. Gilford pouted her lips and gave him eyes. "Well, how do you like that?" She walked over to where Scotty stood. She smelled of honey and lilac. She placed her hands on his smooth chest and began to play with his nipples. "But I wouldn't worry about it; I prefer to get my milk straight from the source."

Scotty was ready to burst from his pants. "You want to suck this dick, Mrs. Gilford?"

She giggled and backed away from him. She let the bathrobe fall to the floor and she bent over the kitchen table, teasing him with her smooth, gorgeous ass. "I do. I really do. But first I need you to fill...a previous order."

Scotty stared at her bent over the table, her tight little asshole puckering. He unfastened his belt and pulled his cock out — his massive, thick, 13-incher of pure and perfect manhood. Mrs. Gilford's eyes bulged at the sight.

Scotty moved closer to her. He readied his enormous throbber and brought it directly to Mrs. Gilford's back door. He placed a hand on her waist. She looked up at him, hesitation in her eyes. Scotty gave her a wink. "Here you are, Mrs. Gilford. Special delivery."