by Freya Kane
My milk had come in.
I’d been fantasizing about reversing the roles between us for some time, and my overflowing breasts finally gave me the opportunity.
The dress I had slipped into was light blue, though at this point it was really more of a shirt. The fabric pulled across my breasts, the cotton barely able to contain the fleshy bounty. The skirt portion of the dress skimmed over the round globe of my belly before ending at my waist, the extra stretch around my middle making an already short hemline positively indecent.
The tight top put pressure on my nipples, and I reached upward to squeeze one of my breasts, smiling in satisfaction at the wet spot that quickly appeared on the fabric. Already feeling my pussy growing slick with anticipation, I brought my hand to the other breast, squeezing until a quarter-sized wet spot had soaked into that size as well.
“You know how much I love playing with my toys,” I called out. “But I can think of something that will be so much fun for both of us to play with.”
I strode out into the living room where Jack was waiting, reclining on his chair, his pants already tented with an erection at the thought of our games. When his brain connected what the wet circles on my top were, he was groaning in desire.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Milk. My milk. I’ve been wanting to do this since before you even knocked me up.” I sat on Jack’s lap, straddling his hips and feeling his fabric covered erection pressing against my core. My belly kept us from being able to embrace properly, but Jack was at eye level with my breasts.
“They’re so full,” he murmured. He reached his hands up and grasped the collar of the dress, tearing the bodice enough so that my breasts spilled out. He took over of them in his hand, squeezing the round globe before focusing on the nipple.
I moaned as he twisted my nipple, squeezing and releasing it until the first drop of milk beaded at the tip and dripped down his fingers.
“I want you to nurse from me. Now it’s your turn to be the baby.”
Some tiny part of me had expected Jack to balk at the complete role reversal. After all, he liked having me play the little girl. Jack certainly hadn't been volunteering to suck on a pacifier himself, but before I even finished my sentence, his lips were wrapped around my nipple.
That first suck had me shaking, my empty pussy clenching and squeezing. I wondered idly if this was what it felt like for a guy when he was getting his dick sucked.
I rocked on Jack’s erection, my pussy juices soaking the fabric of his pants while he drank my milk, drawing mouthfuls of that sweet nectar into him. When he lifted his head, a smear of white clung to his lips.
“Delicious,” he purred. “You taste so fucking good, Karen.”
“Drink up, baby,” I said, drawing his head to my other breast, desperate to feel more of that tug has he filled himself.
I reached between my legs, fumbling with Jack’s zipper, the crotch of his pants dark and sticky with my juices. I froze as a shudder went through me when Jack latched onto my nipple. He paused, letting my nipple slip out of his mouth so he could talk.
“You almost just came, didn’t you?”
I whimpered, nodding my head yes.
“Get my cock out, I know that’s your real favorite toy.”
Any other time I would have giggled at the cheesy line, but Jack sucked my nipple back into his mouth, and as I felt my milk start to flow I forget about everything by yanking down that zipper and pulling that delicious, rock-hard organ out of the slit in his pants.
I shifted my hips, lifting myself up and impaling myself on his cock in one quick motion. Jack grunted as he felt my pussy surround him like a warm, wet glove.
He wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me as close as my big belly would allow and drew me into a rough kiss. I tasted the sweet flavor of my milk on his tongue as I bounced on his cock.
“You can have all the dollhouses you want if you keep fucking me like this!” Jack growled, his hips snapping upward.
“I’ll hold you to that!” My voice broke as I started to come, my pussy tightening around Jack’s thick cock, milking him just as he had milked me. “Give me that come!” I sobbed, barely conscious of what I was saying as I writhed on Jack’s cock.
“Fuck!” he roared, and a moment later I felt the hot flood of his come warm my pussy.
I slumped forward, grateful for the roomy recliner. My thighs were still quivering in aftershocks, and I knew it would be a few minutes before I could even think about standing up.
Jack didn’t seem to have a problem with it though. His hand rested flat on the swell of my belly, feeling the fluttering of the life inside there. His other hand toyed with the ruined fabric of my dress.
“I destroyed your pretty dress,” he said, sounding completely unapologetic. “Some example I’m setting for you. No wonder you’re such a naughty girl .”
I shivered, feeling Jack’s cock twitch inside me. “Well since you ruined my dress, maybe you sound let me buy some furniture for my new dollhouse.”
Jack laughed, and I could feel his cock start to swell already, the idea of disciplining me hardening more than just his resolve. “Someone still hasn’t had her punishment for that dollhouse.”
Jack helped me to my feet, holding me up when my wobbly legs threatened to give out under me. "If you're going to keep asking for things, I might need to fill your mouth up with another pacifier." Jack eyed me up and down, his eyes lingering on my belly. "Do you think you should keep demanding things you didn't ear, Karen?" Jack’s hand went to his cock, already valiantly starting to rise for me.
“I think I can get whatever I want!” I replied, pouring every ounce of battiness I could muster into my voice.
Jack smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
I ended the night a sticky mess of come and milk, my mouth aching from sucking on Jack’s “pacifier” and my nipples swollen from Jack’s attentions.
Little did Jack know, I had another order from Amazon scheduled to deliver tomorrow. Of course, the five-foot tall stuffed giraffe had been expensive, but my collection absolutely needed it.
And I knew I’d enjoy the toy almost as much as the punishment for buying it!
Fertile Trailer Park
by
Freya Kane
River
I’ve always been just another girl in the trailer park.
It's not low self-esteem or any other trendy buzzwords that come out of the mouths of people with more degrees than real life experience. It's just the truth. Knock on the door of half the run-down shacks and trailers in America, and you'll hear a story like mine.
My Mama had me too young. Barely sixteen and along I came. My father made an attempt to stick around for a couple years. On this side of the tracks, having a kid in high school was almost a badge of honor, at least for the boys.
But when 18 rolled around, and the wide world beckoned, it looked a lot more appealing to him than shackling himself to one woman and a baby for the rest of his life.
I can’t really say I blame him.
The whole town made me very aware that we were the worst kind of trash from a young age. With a high school education and a toddler to feed, Mama spent her days slinging grease at the local diner, and her nights spreading for any man who would have her.
They never paid much attention to me. I got a few empty beer bottles thrown at me over the years, and more than a few nasty words. The type of men she brought home didn’t want to deal with “someone else’s brat.” And the real truth was, I was fine with them ignoring me. I wasn’t looking for a Daddy anymore than they were dreaming of adopting me.
Then I grew up.
I was a late bloomer, but when 18 rolled around, suddenly the looks changed. I wasn’t just a gangly teenager interrupting their time with my mother. Suddenly, I was all long legs and tight curves, and their eyes followed me around the trailer.
All except Ethan.
Ethan lived in the trailer next door. In t
his part of the country, poverty didn’t discriminate. Ethan’s father was a drunk, and his mother spent every extra dime they had calling those psychic hotlines. Neither of us had room to judge when it came to screwed up families.
Mama’s last boyfriend had gotten tossed out on the street after she caught him staring at my ass one too many times. I’d like to think it was some long dormant maternal instinct, but I know the real truth.
She was jealous. Too many years of hard living had aged her and seeing those men staring with open lust at my tan skin and generous curves, the daughter that she still blamed for every hardship made her seethe inside. The only thing that kept her from kicking me out was that I’d had one job or another since I was 14, and my wages kept the lights on.
She’d always barely tolerated my friendship with Ethan. Teenage boys were nothing but trouble as far as she was concerned. We’d been looked down on my too many people in this redneck town for Mama to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, especially a man.
Unlike most of the men in the trailer park, Ethan actually had a job. He’d worked part-time as a mechanic since before it was legal for him to have a job, and once he graduated he went full time. He could never quite get the engine grease out from under his nails or the scent of diesel out of his hair.
In his spare time, Ethan did whatever chores he could at my house. Mama may have been rude to him, but she didn’t slap him around like his own parents, so he spent more time camped out on my sofa than he did in his own house. Mama treated him like a stray cat, but as long as he kept fixing everything that fell apart around our trailer and asking for nothing more than a helping of whatever was warming on the stove, she let him hang around.
Ethan didn’t have the harsh, jaded look most of the men in this town got once they hit 15. Ethan was a man who could have had prospects outside this worthless little town. Why he hadn’t run off already, I had no idea.
***
The apple fell pretty far from the tree when it came to me. Not only had I escaped the small town trap of teen pregnancy, but I’d made it out of high school still a virgin.
Not that anyone believed it.
The boys at school had been trying to slide their hands between my legs long before I filled out. My Mama was a slut, so even if I was still skinny and titless, they figured I was a sure thing.
But I didn’t want any of them. They all seemed to be echoes of my father and Mama’s endless stream of boyfriends – guys who peaked in high school and would never make anything of themselves. Even when teenage hormones had my panties growing damp as a football player fumbled with my bra, I kept my knees clamped together.
Of course, the problem now was I was an adult, the one person I really did want to give my cherry to was sleeping in the wrong room. Ethan had been spending more and more time camped out in our living room. He’d even snuck friends over a few times, something that never bothered me until one of those people was a girl.
Her name was Sandy, and she was the opposite of me in every way. Her skin was milky pale, and her hair fell in golden waves around her face. She lived in one of the nice houses in a subdivision on the other side of town, but she couldn't resist slumming it with Ethan.
She wasn't his girlfriend, and they weren't in love. I'd caught them once before, and Ethan had smirked and said, “A guy’s got needs” before cocking his head at Sandy and adding, “So does she.”
The walls in any trailer were thin, but in one as cheap as ours they were like paper. I heard the creak of the front door as it opened and shut quickly and the squeak of the couch springs as Ethan and Sandy climbed on, and the low moans that indicated they weren’t doing much sleeping.
My face flushed, but I couldn’t deny the sudden wetness that sprang between my legs. My nipples tightened under the thin tank I wore to sleep in, and Ethan swore loudly.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned.
Without even realizing it, my hands had dipped inside my panties, and I found my body already slick and swollen with need.
Ethan was growling, “Fuck baby” over and over again as the bedsprings bounced. His voice was so loud it sounded like he was in the room with me and not getting his pleasure with HER.
I dipped one finger inside my tight channel, shivering as I imagined how much better it would feel to have Ethan’s thick digits stretching my body open. My eyes slipped closed, and I imagined the thumb circling my clit was calloused and stained with engine grease.
On the other side of the wall, Ethan groaned “Fuck” one last time as he came, and I followed him over the edge, sobbing my own release into my pillow, my hand coated with my own sticky juices.
I didn’t know if it was just lust or if I was crazy enough to be in love my best friend, but it didn’t matter. The only man who ever entered my house who was decent enough to never lay a hand on me was the only one I’d ever wanted.
I was so screwed.
Ethan
She thinks I don’t know.
I’m not going to lie. I’d heard stories about the Hancock women all my life. According to most of the town, Naomi was trash, and her daughter River wasn’t much better.
But who was I to judge?
After all, everyone was so quick to condemn Naomi, but no one ever said a word about the men that eagerly lined up at her door.
“Love’s for children and pop stars,” she had snarled at River one day when she caught her watching some overdramatic soap opera on TV.
A better man would have wanted to change her mind and make her see all the beauty in the world. A better man would have wanted to make her love him.
But none of the men who ended up at Naomi’s door were better men. They just wanted to get their dicks wet and have someone cook them dinner.
But River? She felt everything. While her mother was all rough edges, her heart calloused by years of ill-treatment, River wore every emotion on her face and those huge brown eyes.
I tried to keep those sweet eyes always in focus because I didn’t want to be one more guy in her life who never looked above her chin. But even I couldn’t help stealing glances.
Her clothes hugged those curves in a way that would have any man aching. Tank tops and t-shirts that were always just a bit too worn out to be decent showed shadows of those pink nipples when the sun hit them just right.
I felt like a jerk looking at her, but what was the harm? I might not have been the best guy out there, but there was no way I was going to lay a hand on her. We’d grown up together, and even though no one was going to mistake us for siblings, I cared way too much about her to risk our relationship on a quick fuck. River deserved better than the hand life had dealt her, and she definitely deserved better than a guy like me.
I had myself convinced that was the truth for months until the day I caught her watching.
Naomi and her flavor of the week were gone for the weekend, ditching us like a bad habit to go blow some of River’s hard-earned money at a casino, and for all that I was enjoying the rare piece and quiet, I was bored. Sandy was gone for the summer to stay with her grandparents upstate, and my cock was missing its usual distraction.
I flicked on the television, trying to find anything that could hold my interest on the static-filled connection from our stolen cable.
No luck.
My hard-on had no intention of leaving me alone long enough to focus on a shitty reality TV show. I was just unzipping my jeans when I heard the soft creak of River’s door opening.
I should have shoved my dick back in my shorts and run out the door, back to my back room fucks with women who didn’t look at me like I deserved a medal for not treating her like shit.
I should have done a lot of things, but instead, I eased my zipper down the rest of the way and pulled my cock out. I sat back on the couch, ignoring the springs that poked out of the ancient fabric and stared into the shadowy hallway where I knew she was watching.
My cock twitched, bringing me back to the present, and I started pumping. My hand traveled up an
d down my length, stroking each inch and pausing to twist at the head.
I moaned loudly. I’d always tried to muffle any sounds when I was with Sandy, but I knew the thin walls didn’t offer much in the way of privacy. This time with the awareness of River’s eyes boring into me, I didn’t hold back.
As my hand moved along my shaft, I tried to imagine River standing in the shadows. Was she shocked at what I was doing? Was her hand dipping between her own legs, slipping between those wet folds to touch herself?
