Chapter 23

 

Gordon: I thought you were never going to text me back

 

Galatéa: Sorry. Busy day yesterday. 

 

Gordon: I was thinking that we should get together with the kids

 

It took her a moment to realize what he was asking. She didn’t want to reply. It seemed like a serious step. Meeting the kids. 

Did she want that?

Galatéa didn’t know what she wanted…other than to go to Poz’s barn, get her tits out, and have them sucked by a stranger.

Near stranger. She had already done this once with Miles. 

 

Galatéa: Yes. Let’s make plans.

 

It was a lie, but she had to say something.

 

Gordon: What about later today?

 

Galatéa: I’m working.

 

Gordon: I was hoping to see you too

 

Galatéa: I’m working. Maybe tomorrow?

 

It surprised her how much she was looking forward to working another scene in the barn. It didn’t matter who it was; she just wanted to do it.

 

Miles was strapped to the table, the same table as Simon. The difference here was that Miles was naked.

Almost naked.

Simon had been encased in a gimp suit. Miles was wearing a tiny pair of black underwear. It was so small that it didn’t contain his erect cock. It barely hid his ball sack. Miles had more body hair than Galatéa liked, but he had shaved his pubic area completely. She couldn’t remember if he had been fully denuded the last time she had seen him. It seemed like that was an important detail, but that had been forgotten. It didn’t matter; as far as she could tell he had shaved everything that she could see. Galatéa couldn’t wait to get his tiny underwear off him before he got up.

He wasn’t restrained at all. He was just lying on his back. His hands were gripping the edge of the table and he was under strict orders not to move or touch Galatéa. She wouldn’t have minded. He had been polite last time and this was a game and he was reasonably attractive. Maybe even more so than Gordon.

She was wearing an underbust corset that had partial cups that just barely gave her a bit of support. The purple garment was mostly decorative. In addition she had on her high-heeled black boots, lacy black thong, and a mask that would have been perfectly in place at a Victorian costume ball. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want Miles to see her face—he already had—but she wanted to project an aura of mystery. Plus she didn’t want him remembering her outside the barn. 

“Are you going to be good and obey?” she asked him. 

Poz was in the corner of the barn, observing and monitoring the two cameras set up for this encounter. Galatéa started to wonder who she was. A prostitute? A slut? A porn actress? Something else entirely?

“Yes, mistress. Yes I am.” Miles said the words with conviction. 

Galatéa wasn’t afraid of anything that might happen. She felt safe with Poz there and there was precious little she would say no to. Maybe sex with Miles was exactly what she needed right then and there. It would be nothing at all for her to jump on the table, pull aside her thong, sit down on his cock, and ride him to oblivion.

But that wasn’t what he had paid for. Galatéa knew she was being paid for this. Not that she needed the money, but it felt good to earn something for her natural skills and talents.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked. 

“Yes.”

Of course he was.

She stood at the foot of the table and put her index finger on his calf while slowly walking along the table, dragging her finger along his skin. She veered toward his inner thigh, which caused his cock to twitch, but she slipped away before contacting his balls or shaft. Precum oozed from his meatus, making a small puddle on his stomach. More than anything she wanted to grab his cock and give him a blowjob, but she needed to control herself. This wasn’t about her. This was about him.

As she walked his eyes didn’t leave her. More accurately, his eyes didn’t leave her tits that were full of milk. They bobbled beautifully as she moved. Maybe she bounced on her feet a bit more than necessary. Maybe she rolled her shoulders more than needed when her finger traced along the edge of his underwear, then over the strip of fabric, before continuing her way upward. Her finger circled one of his nipples before she brought it all the way up to his shoulder before she broke contact.

He moaned.

His cock twitched.

She wondered if she could make him cum just by teasing and barely touching. Maybe she’d have to dangle her tits just out of reach of his mouth, but that would be worth it. She had never made a man cum without having sex with him, or at least a blowjob. It was a heady power to contemplate.

“I’m full of milk,” she unnecessarily said. Bringing her hands to her breasts, she hefted her flesh. Miles’s eyes went wide and he licked his lips in anticipation of what was to come. 

“I’m so thirsty.”

She squeezed herself. Though she had done it before, Galatéa was surprised when multiple streams of milk shot out of her nipples. The milk landed on Miles’s face, neck, and chest. He caught some of it on his tongue but most of it was wasted. He moaned and begged.

“Please…”

She didn’t give in because he was begging. She gave in because she needed to have her tits sucked. Her nipples were ripe with anticipation and her milk was already dripping freely. All she had to do was lean forward a bit and shift her shoulders. 

Her breast hit him in the face. He turned his head, desperately seeking out her nipple. He had no trouble finding it and immediately set to nursing.

She moaned and went weak in the knees. The only way she remained upright was by bracing herself against the table with one locked arm.

Galatéa panted hard several times as Miles indulged himself. She didn’t mind indulging him. She could feel him sucking her soul out of her body. Her pussy went from a swamp to a swimming pool. She was dripping amrita down her inner thighs. Still, she managed to remain professional and took her free swinging breast in hand.

“I think you earned this,” she said. She had no idea if he had earned the privilege or not. It didn’t matter. 

Squeezing her firm flesh again, the milk sprayed from her nipple. She managed to aim it on Miles’s body. Little droplets clung to his chest hair. It was less than a minute when she pulled his breast free of his mouth and took a step back so he couldn’t go after the other one.

That didn’t stop him. Miles sat up and started to reach for her.

“No!” she said sharply. “Lay down. You know the rules!”

She glanced at Poz in the corner. He hadn’t moved from his chair, but he was watching closely. 

Miles lay back down. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“Doing this without restraints is a privilege,” she reminded him.

“I know. It was a mistake. I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

She frowned at him. “See that it doesn’t.”

After making him wait for a moment, she approached the table again, this time offering him her other breast. He didn’t move his hands from the side of the table but quickly found her nipple and started nursing again.

She hated and loved how good it felt for him to do that. This time she was better able to stay on her feet, not having gone quite so weak in the knees. Still, it felt good to have him nurse. As much as she wanted to, Galatéa didn’t slide her hand down inside her panties to jill off. She wanted to remain professional.

However, she did take her free breast in hand and squeeze again, painting Miles up and down with her milk. They continued the little game, changing her breast every minute or so. Him nursing and drinking her milk, and her squeezing and wasting the milk all over his body. But it wasn’t really being wasted. It was what he wanted. She was being paid handsomely for this odd spa treatment.

Galatéa knew her body. She knew that she was going to cum before him. That was only her right and privilege. 

“Fuck,” she cursed softly and came, her body trembling slightly. She had to brace herself once again to keep from falling. Miles did his job and just kept sucking on her nipple, not once moving his hand off the table. She breathed and sweated and trembled and milk sprayed from the breast she was barely touching.

“Oh that’s so good,” she whispered to herself. 

“Thank you,” Miles said politely. She was unsure if he was thanking her for her milk or for spraying it all over him or if he was accepting a compliment for making her cum from suckling.

“Do you want to cum?” she asked him politely. 

His cock was still hard. This was a fantasy fulfilled for him. The small puddle of precum was now slowly dripping down his stomach off to the side, to drip onto the table. She was impressed with how much he was producing. His cock was straining so hard that it was pushing his underwear aside, letting his balls bulge out. 

“Uh-huh.”

There were a couple of ways to approach this situation, Galatéa knew. She could just take him in hand and stroke him a couple of times. That she knew would make him cum. She could get on the table and run her pussy lips along his shaft. That would work as well. She could lick his cock, maybe suck it a little, and then watch as he shot his load all over himself.

She reached out her index finger and ran it lightly along the underside of his cock. 

“How do you want to cum?” she asked, half teasing and half polite.

“Please…” he just begged.

There was no way she was going to give him full release just because he begged. 

Her finger circled the glans. 

“I love it when a man worships my tits,” she whispered in his ear.

He came. He unloaded his cum after barely being touched. The hot sticky ejaculate got on her hand, but most of it arced into the air, falling with a splat onto his stomach and chest.

She was impressed with how much he had produced.

After Miles was gone, Poz approached her as he cleaned the area. “You could make this a career if you wanted.”

She laughed at him. “I’m not doing it for the money.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Then why are you doing it?”

That gave her pause. “For the fun of it. If you find a job you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.”

“Don’t believe that for a minute.” He shook his head. “Vicky and me…we’ve talked about it. There have been a few more requests for your services.”

She shook her head. “I’m just doing this for the fun of it. I don’t need the money, really.”

“You won’t be able to do this forever.” He gestured to her breasts. “You won’t be making milk forever.”

Galatéa hadn’t considered that. But it didn’t matter. “This is just a hobby for me. I’ll get bored of it eventually.”

“You seemed to really enjoy it.”

“I’m not doing it forever.”

“Do you want to get serious about it? At least for the next few months?”

She couldn’t answer that question.