by Francis Ashe
Milk for her Billionaire (an erotic domination and lactation fantasy)
By Francis Ashe
Copyright 2012
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
***
“Sandy, could you come in here for a minute? I need to ask you something. Thanks.”
Her boss’s voice was leathery, rugged and warm, but Sandy Jackson’s hand trembled a little as she put her finger to the ivory-colored intercom button with “Mr. Madisen” printed underneath.
“Yes sir, right away,” she said, flattened her skirt and checked for spotting on the front of her blouse. Disappointed to find the vaguest hint of a milk mark, she shrugged into her blazer and checked her hair. For all the intimidation and power that Mr. Madisen had, he was also absolutely gorgeous, and he always seemed to look at Sandy with a bit of a naughty glint in his eye which she had to admit turned her on just a little.
Sandy, recently divorced mommy of a chubby, funny three-month old, sat at the desk in front of Michael Madisen’s glass-doored office, staring into the mirror of her compact and wondering when she would be able to go back to wearing a normal bra.
Maternity leave was both a blessing and a curse for Sandy, since she got to stay home with little Adie for three full months, but at the same time, she was worried for most of that time whether or not she’d be shifted around to a new place in the company when it was time to go back to work. She liked her job. The pay was pretty good, but the main thing she loved about it was how easy it was – most times, no one even came to the front desk at all, and when they did, it was to ask directions to some meeting room or office.
As it happened, she was not only moved, but given a promotion. She had no clue what she had done to get it, but the fifty percent pay raise, along with a spot on the mostly deserted fifth floor were not things she questioned. In fact, the only other person she saw most times was Mr. Madisen, so she had lots of free time to do pretty much whatever she wanted. The problem with that, though, is that she felt like her career was at a standstill, just kind of idling. Even with the huge pay raise, she was not actually doing anything. She worried that when the time came to move on, her skills like “looking through magazines” and “playing solitaire” would not get her very far.
“Okay Sandy, what are you so upset over?” She asked herself. “He’s a nice enough guy. Just go see what he wants. Probably the current edition of that investment journal he thumbs through and pretends to read.”
She stood, stretched her back which had started aching for the first time in her life when her formerly petite breasts became engorged with milk for Adie. Rubbing her lower spine, Sandy twisted back and forth twice, checked to make sure she had not lactated through her blazer somehow, and willed herself to Mr. Madisen’s door. Halfway there, she realized that she had been his personal assistant for going on two weeks, and had yet to actually see his office. Dismissing the thought, she took a deep breath and entered.
Inside, the room was more sparsely decorated than she had imagined. One painting that resembled a Jackson Pollock and two statues of tall birds represented the only decor.
“Sandy, hey,” Mr. Madisen began, “I wanted to explain the arrangement a little more. I know you’ve been sort of thrown into the deep end since you came back, and - oh, would you like to take off that jacket? Here, let me take it for you. Get comfortable, we have a lot to go over.”
“No. I mean, uh, no thank you, Mr. Madisen,” Sandy stammered, clutching her blazer a little tighter than was probably necessary.
“Is something the matter? I hope I haven’t upset you somehow. Here, let me take that for you.” He reached out, his hand brushing against Sandy’s face, and eased her hand off the lapel of her jacket. “Relax - I’m not going to bite. Anyway, it makes me nervous when people are more dressed up than I am.” He tugged one shoulder down, and Sandy shifted in her seat to oblige him.
Jesus I hope he doesn’t notice these spots, she thought, I’ll just say – oh Hell, he’s not an idiot. Anything I say, he’ll know I’m making up. Maybe this is all a bigger deal than I think. I mean, I did just have a baby and all.
As Mr. Madisen turned to hang her blazer, the form fitting, open-collared dress shirt he wore showed the musculature of his back, neck and upper arms. Sandy realized then he was a lot more attractive than she thought. And, he was just her type, too, with his powerful biceps, dark hair and those smoldering emerald eyes.
When he faced her again, those emeralds fixated directly on the spots growing on the front of her blouse.
“I’m so embarrassed, Mr. Madisen, please let me have my jacket back. I don’t want you to have to see this.” She pleaded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No. Well,” he exhaled heavily, “I may as well be honest. This is why I called you back here.” His eyes ravished her, and in spite of herself Sandy felt sexy, really sexy, for the first time in months.
“I see you every morning when I come in, those big, gorgeous tits barely contained by whatever you’re wearing.” He watched her, searched her face for a moment and then let his eyes return to devouring her body.
Almost unconsciously, she let her arms relax.
“Good,” he said, moving closer to where she stood, “very good.”
Sandy’s jaw dropped open just a smidge when Mr. Madisen unbuttoned the first of eight tiny buttons running down the front of her shirt and stroked the skin underneath with the back of his hand. His attention was fully on her milk-filled breasts, which she just noticed had begun to ache. She glanced over at the art-deco-looking clock on the wall behind his desk.
Oh my God, she thought, I haven’t pumped in over three hours. No wonder. She had a breast pump in her desk that she used every so often to keep her baby supplied and to keep her tits from getting too sore, but somehow, she had forgotten. She glanced at Mr. Madisen as he slipped her third button through its loop and put his hand on the skin above the upper trim of her bra.
He deftly undid the rest of them, pulled her shirt tail out of the skirt she was wearing, and let it billow out to her sides. Mr. Madisen slid his hands around her waist, raising little prickles on her skin where he touched. Slowly, almost like he was testing the waters, he moved them up her sides until he touched near her underarms.
“Nothing in the world,” he began with sort of glassy eyes and a whispering voice, “nothing in the world is more beautiful than a woman with big, round, milk-filled tits.”
His hands moved to the front of her bra, fingers dancing in a little circle, and Sandy let out a soft moan as he approached her stiffening, sore-from-suckling nipple that pressed, hard, against the covering fabric.
“Mr. Madisen, I - I just don’t know about this, I mean...”
He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. Softly at first with three fluttering kisses, and then a longer, deeper, sucking kiss pulled her voluptuous bottom lip between his teeth. She sighed again, a satisfied, content sigh, as this gorgeous billionaire cupped her breast in his hand and gave her a squeeze, causing more of her mother’s milk to drip. He explored her lip with his tongue, searching each tiny crevice before he took adv
antage of her moaning to slide it in against hers. His hand, rasping against her bra, squeezed again, releasing another drop and causing her to yelp lightly with a mix of pleasure, pain and just a little raw sexual urgency.
She wrestled his tongue back into his mouth and then let him invade her again. Somehow, the wantonness, the ferocity of his actions made her entire body want to be taken by him, ravished by this depraved billionaire. Sandy arched her back, so often sore from the weight on her chest, but now seemingly free, liberated from pain by how monstrously, terribly horny Mr. Madisen had made her. She felt the lips of her slit move against one another when she shifted position and realized that for the first time in far too long, she was getting wet because of a man rather than a five minute vibrator session.
No way is this happening right now, she thought in between desperate, deep kisses, no way this is happening. He gave her another tit squeeze, this one harder than before. She felt warm milk trickle out of her body and down her breast before it joined the rest in the spreading pool on her bra. His tongue plunged deep again when she squealed, and Mr. Madisen’s other hand went hungrily down her back, massaging her upper ass and searching for a hook. She felt her skirt ease and slip a bit when Mr. Madisen found and opened the clasps with a metallic clink.
Without warning, Mr. Madisen gave her another hard, lusty kiss and then stood back, reclining his body against his desk.
“Sandy. I want to see you. Show me your body.” His voice was somehow different than it had been. His tone was lower, a little more urgent, she thought.
Just as he said, she began to wiggle out of her skirt.
“No, no, no,” he said in that soft, insistent voice, “make it sexy. Show me how much you want me. Show me how much you want me to milk those big, aching tits. You know how badly you want me to suck you, to slurp it all up, get it all out. Show me how much you want it.”
This guy actually wants me to strip for him. Why does he think I’m sexy? Why does he want me anyway? Sandy wondered to herself, almost afraid that he was just joking with her, just playing with her emotions. She was afraid that as soon as she relaxed, Mr. Madisen was just going to start laughing.
In spite of the nerves and fear, Sandy could not stop herself. Almost without thinking, her hips started to sway from side to side. Slow little gyrations at first, as she slid the zipper. Doesn’t matter, she thought, it just doesn’t matter. I haven’t felt this good in... I don’t even know how long. She had, she realized, wanted Mr. Madisen for quite some time. But now, there was no simple want anymore. All of Sandy’s desire, all her burning and all her insecurity began to vanish when she looked Mr. Madisen in the eyes.
There was no joke behind them, no cruelty.
He, she realized, needed her just as badly as she did him.
Sandy finished unzipping and let the skirt slip halfway down her hips, keeping one hand on the waist in the front to tease Mr. Madisen. She turned, still having trouble believing that all of this was actually happening, and let the back of her skirt droop low to give Mr. Madisen an eye full. I haven’t done anything like this in a long, long time, Sandy thought as she turned to give him a profile view and let the skirt fall to the floor. One hand covered her sex and the other arm covering those leaking, aching nipples that Mr. Madisen could not ignore.
She glanced over at him, and saw his gaze locked on her moving body, eyes tracking up and down as he took in the spectacle. He had a subtle grin across his lips and his face was relaxed and content. He watched her hips, watched her face and her breasts, hoping for her to take away that arm that blocked his view.
Sandy slipped a finger between her pussy lips and felt the tiny, but growing, wet spot between her legs, which made her blush. Blushing, she thought, me stripping, my massively rich boss hungrily staring at my tits, and I blush because I’m a little wet. She had to crack a grin and let a little giggle escape, but as soon as she pushed harder with that finger, and her nipples stiffened against the restraining, almost painful fabric around them, she involuntarily pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, a look that caused Mr. Madisen to start plucking at his buttons.
“I just can’t take anymore,” he said, breathing harder, “come here. Undress me. I need those tits; I need to taste, to suck. Get over here.”
A little surprised at his insistence, but feeling like they were in almost exactly the same place, Sandy demurely crossed the eight or so feet between them and pressed her soft, moist lips against his skin where his shirt fell open at the third button. She undid the fourth, then the fifth, each time touching his warm, clean-shaven chest with a circle of her tongue as a prelude to a sucking kiss. When she had him unbuttoned down to his belt, she slid her hands up his body and pushed the shirt back to reveal rounded, gorgeous shoulders, and a chest she would have never believed a man like Mr. Madisen could have. Muscular, tanned and tight, he was just the kind of man she loved to have underneath her.
That thought made a flush of red creep up Sandy’s neck that spread to cover her shoulders and chest when Mr. Madisen’s warm, smooth fingers began to tickle down her spine as she went lower down his torso.
The smell of leather tickled her nose near his belt, and as soon as Sandy loosened the buckle, Mr. Madisen helped her to pull it free. With a slight tremor in her hand, she opened the waist of her billionaire boss’s pants and unzipped him.
“Take off... take off the bra. I want you to rub those big, sweet tits all over me,” he moaned, “I want to feel my cock slide between them.”
A crooked half grin crossed her face. Sandy yanked his pants and boxer-briefs to the floor, letting his cock spring up and crouched in front of him.
“Oh!” She gasped, wrapping a hand around Mr. Madisen’s shaft and giving him a couple of slow, dragging strokes. He leaned back his head, groaned from deep in his belly, and then stared down at her, watching as he curled her hair around his fingers.
“This... this feels good,” he said, pulling her chin up and meeting her gaze, “it feels good. But, I think I told you to do something. Don’t make me wait.”
For some reason, his insistence made Sandy breathe a bit harder. Something about his urgency, about his lust, made her positively yearn to have him. And, aside from that, the idea that someone was this excited about these big, milking breasts which had caused her nothing but grief for the past few months, was better still. Reaching behind her back as she stood up, she un-hooked the four latches that held the bra on, and let it drop, held up only by the tackiness of moisture on skin.
“Let me see you,” Mr. Madisen said flatly.
Ever so slightly, Sandy felt her lips twitch the way they do when she got nervous. What if he sees me and realizes how... ugly... it really is? What if he changes his mind? I’ll be here, naked, and humiliated.
Still, she had gone this far. Sandy was not a person who normally took risks – any at all, actually – but this one, she thought, was worth trying.
Slowly, she took the bra away from her chest, her nipples prickling in the fresh air and immediately feeling relief. She chewed her lip, worried that all her fears were about to come true, that Mr. Madisen was going to see her in all her naked honesty, her humanity, and reject her.
“Absolutely beautiful,” he said, his mouth slightly opened as he watched her trembling hands reveal her body, her natural, gorgeous body. “Please, don’t be nervous. I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
She nodded and moved toward Mr. Madisen as he shook his arms out of his half-removed shirt and threw it across his desk. He kissed her again, and one of his hands slipped under her breast, gently cupping her and squeezing. Sandy, as much as she thought it strange, loved the feeling of those warm drops trickling out of her. When she fed her baby, it hurt terribly, to have all the gumming and gnawing, but the milk running out of her body was a safe feeling, something that made her feel connected to everything around her. She never expected that lactating in front of Mr. Madisen would be the same.
He took her hand and urged her down to the
ground. Kneeling on the plush, deep carpet, Sandy took a deep breath and sighed as Mr. Madisen pushed her gently backwards and kissed down her jawline, lingering on the little place where her collarbones met. The fluttery, light kisses continued down her body, between her breasts and down to her navel where he turned circles with the tip of his tongue. Her skin warmed under his touch, and a moment later, Sandy’s outstretched hand found Mr. Madisen’s cock.
Stiff, thick and ready for her, he groaned when she wrapped her fingers around him, and grinned as she pushed at one of his knees.
“Mister Madisen – will you st-straddle me?” She had no idea why she stuttered, maybe nerves, maybe pent-up desire. He just smiled.
Swinging his powerful, well-muscled leg around her, he gave Sandy’s hair a stroke and nestled his dick between her breasts. As soon as he began to move his hips in tiny, rocking motions, back and forth against her chest, Sandy pushed her tits together, making a little more milk spill out of both. Trickling down and over Mr. Madisen, Sandy’s milk covered him in a wet slick that he used to stroke against her body.
“This... this feels incredible, Sandy,” he said, keeping one hand on his cock and moving the other first to her left, then her right breast, tracing a line around her areola. One, then the other, he went back and forth making sure to keep them equally excited. That’s when Sandy noticed that the more aroused she got, the harder and stiffer her nipples grew, the more intensely she felt the sensation of milk dribbling out of her body.
Fingerling streams that began on her peaks ran in spider-web patterns down her tits and Sandy began to feel slight relief as the pressure in her body released itself over Mr. Madisen’s hands. He pinched her nipples harder with milk-covered fingers, and snuck a quick taste.
“You taste... mmm... So warm, so wonderfully warm,” he moaned, licking the last bit of white off his finger. “God this feels good, this cock slicked up and sliding between those big beautiful tits of yours. Lick me, lick the tip. Taste yourself on my dick.”