It started with a cryptic message from a friend of a friend. “Dom requires subjects for milking. Discretion mutually assured. Enquire direct to 0409 ### ###”. Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued.
A flurry of messaging followed, and proof of life submitted, in exchange for a time and an . Instructions as follows: knock twice, enter, second door on the left, no talking. The date was in four days hence. I existed in a heightened state of anxiety and arousal in the meantime. What was I getting myself into?
The allotted time slowly arrived and I walked up to the front door of an suburban household.
It was a very quiet neighbourhood with everyone out tending to their business. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I knocked, and then turned the door handle and opened the door silently. My footsteps rang in my ears as I walked down the hallway. Was I being setup? I stood in front of the second door in the left. This one was painted differently to the rest, black in a piano gloss. I hesitated with my hand resting on the door handle.
I felt faint, but I realised this was at least half because of the rush of blood to my loins!
I pushed down on the handle and the door opened effortlessly. In front of me was a massage table of firm black faux leather. My attention quickly turned to the figure standing wordlessly in the corner. Her blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, she was squeezed into a tight black vinyl bodysuit atop four inch heels. She stared intently while my eyes took her all in. An eyebrow raised in question as she gestured to the table. “I submit” I rasped out, involuntarily. What possessed me to say that?!
Now I turned my attention back to the table. For the first time I saw the hole in the well cushioned table at crotch level. I hastily disrobed, my cock springing free as I pulled my pants down. I looked again at my new mistress and she nodded once, towards the hole. I mounted the table and eased myself through. The cool air around my now throbbing member reminded me of how exposed I was. She clicked past me in her heels and I could see now the pale globes of her ass, exposed through two cut outs in her suit. She murmured “there is no going back now” but to herself or me I could not tell.
She stopped in front of the mirror to reapply her lipstick, flame red, but her eyes never left my prone figure. I started to speak, wanting to ask her what next, but “Quiet,” she firmly replied. I gulped, and returned to marvelling at her broad arse’s reflection in the mirror.
She unzipped her suit allowing her breasts to fall freely. Picking up the lipstick again she this time painted her erect nipples. As if they needed highlighting.
Then she dropped to all fours, and slowly crawled under the table. Her lips parted slightly and I’m sure she licked them discreetly as she moved towards my knob which I bounced lightly, warming now to my subject role.
Still on all fours she lifted her chin and started licking my balls, taking each one into her mouth in turn, ensuring they were both sopping wet. Her tongue flattened as she reached my shaft and delivering a flick to my purple knob so firmly I bounced off the bottom of the table, causing me to gasp. She allowed herself to let a giggle escape before quickly repressing this also.
On and on she worked my shaft, but was careful to stay away from the business end of my manhood. I thought back to the mindfulness meditation I had been practicing at work, regulated my breathing to keep my state of arousal from pushing me over the edge.
At this point I realised that she had discreetly unzipped her crotch revealing a well waxed pussy with a bright pink wet labia, glistening in the light. She parted her lips and started stroking her clit while she took a good grip of my balls with her other. Taking my end into her mouth her tongue made strong deliberate motions over my glans. My heart ate quickened now despite my efforts in controlling my breathing. I groaned heavily and her fingers worked her folds more quickly.
Slowly and then suddenly she was deepthroating me, her lipstick by now leaving a smear of a red rose where my shaft meets my balls. I caught her eye in the reflection and she continued with great intent, her gaze never leaving mine.
Her work was getting sloppy now and a great string of pearly saliva was suspended from her chin and I noticed a tear slide down her cheek from her exertions. Two of her fingers now dived deeply in her hot mound and she too began to moan from the pleasure.
I was straining into the table by this point, willing ever millimetre of myself into her willing mouth. She was sucking hard now while her tongue enticed my swilled nuts into releasing their flood.
Now it was too late for restraint and I erupted, my hot spunk spurting deep down her throat. She continued to drain me, squeezing my balls lightly then tightly as she coaxed every drop from me. I was spent, and could hardly lift my head to watch her as she wiped cum from her chin and licked her fingers clean.
She stood up, zipped herself up carefully and reapplied lipstick. Then she motioned to my things, and left the room. I got up, cleaned up and dressed. Leaving as quietly as I came I walked out into the bright sun blinking. My phone buzzed: “thank you for your offering.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/dqewiw/an_offering_at_a_milking_table
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