MILF: Sweet Cream Island Hucow Farm (Young MILF, First, Voyeur, Romance)

by Miranda Cougar

  MILF: Sweet Island Cream Hucow Farm

  By Miranda Cougar

  Copyright © 2015 Miranda Cougar

  All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains raw hot romance with graphically descriptive language. It is written for adults only.

  Story Description

  “You’re mine – all mine,” Kale tipped my chin up with one swift flick of his finger. “Know this Aurora – I claim your delicious bounty as mine, and mine alone. I claim all of you to love, to keep safe, to cherish – and to pleasure for every day of the rest of our lives.”

  Young Aurora Silver is no stranger to loneliness.

  As an orphan from the wrong side of the galaxy, she’s suffered alone through more than her fair share of hard times. But now, for the first time in her memory, she has hope for a happy future.

  She’s been accepted for a position as an experimental hucow on an island farm.

  She’s finally leaving behind the flying ball of space junk she was born on to travel to the lush green planet of New Maui. Once there, she’ll work alongside four hundred other young women at the creamery and fertility clinic called The Farm.

  She’ll find that life on The Farm can sometimes be frustrating. But, Aurora has a determined heart and she’s willing to endure whatever trials she must to win what she wants most in life – a happy home and a loving family.

  Dr. Kale Craig, the handsome head physician at The Farm falls in love with the spirited Aurora at first sight. But, his unquenchable thirst to claim her as his own personal hucow pushes him to pursue her in ways that – shock even him.

  He’s her doctor and she’s his patient – she’s off limits.

  He can never claim her body or her love for himself – or can he?

  Sweet Island Cream is a novelette with an HEA. It’s a steamy romance and it’s written for adults only. Be warned – these pages contain graphically descriptive themes and adult language. If naughty & thirsty love offends you then please do not read this book.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Bonus Chapter

  Chapter 1

  My daily visitor is here — spying on me again.

  Her tiny, bio-engineered camera is already buzzing around my bedroom.

  It’s on time. I’m the one who’s late. I’d better hurry up, strip off my pajama bottoms and jump into the shower before I disappoint my favorite voyeur.

  Aurora needs her morning fix of jilling off material. And I want, no I need her to know I’m the man she can rely on to help satisfy her daily cravings. My chiseled body is all the eye candy she’ll ever need to get her off.

  The last thing I want is for her to begin her day unsatisfied. She deserves to experience all the pleasure her body can handle. The Farm owes her that much. I owe her that much.

  On a purely personal level, I enjoy knowing the woman of my dreams starts her days watching me cleanse my naked body. Sometimes I even put on a sexy show for her while I’m in the shower. I do some dirty dancing and stroke myself, making my manhood grow long and hard for her viewing pleasure.

  But, I can’t be overtly sensual every day. It would be too risky. So, most days, I just take a quick shower and pretend like the mother of my secret children isn’t watching me bathe.

  Nix on the sexy stroking and playful strip tease this morning. Today I’ll take a short shower. I’m already late for my work in the medical offices of The Farm. My daily itinerary has been moved up by an hour. And I already have several patients waiting to see me before I attend my scheduled morning meeting with The Farm’s publicity department.

  I’ll miss stroking off in the shower for Aurora this morning. But, I know that by sacrificing this small moment of pleasure, I’m making the best choice for the both of us – actually for all four of us. I’m helping to secure a happy future for me, my future wife and our two children.

  I know in my heart, taking a quick non-sensual shower is the smartest course of action right now. I shouldn’t take my flirtations with Aurora too far. If I keep staring directly into her spy-camera while I bathe and brush my fingers down the hard angled lines of my body, she might catch on that I know about her secret fetish. I know she’s been secretly watching me shower every morning for the last five years of this medical experiment.

  I don’t know what she would do if she knew that I knew about her voyeuristic habits. She might break her Milkmaid contract, leave The Farm and go back to living on that metal ball of space junk she used to call her home. If she leaves, all our lives will be ruined. Hers, mine and both of our children. The children she knows I’ve given her, but doesn’t know I’ve fathered.

  There’s nothing illegal about what I’ve done – fathering her children. I promised to give her babies and I kept my word. I even inseminated her with volunteer seed, just like I said I would. I simply neglected to mention to her, or anyone else involved in the experiment that I was so taken with Aurora – no, so in love with her – that I substituted my own volunteered seed for the original random sample she was initially supposed to be inseminated with. Twice.

  I’m aware that my meticulously planned actions of impregnating her with my own life giving fluids were morally repugnant. But, I simply couldn’t allow any other man’s seed to take root in her womb. She’s mine. She’s the wife of my heart, although she’s not my legally wedded bride –at least, not yet.

  Just like Aurora craves my body, I crave her affection. I live for the affection and admiration of my beautiful, lusty, experimental hucow. It comforts me to hear the soft buzzing of her tiny fruit fly spy cam as it flutters around my bedroom each morning. It feeds my soul to know I’m the man she chooses to visit each day. I’m the man she desires. I’m the man she would choose to love, and let love her — if she was allowed to.

  It’s not her fault she’s so insatiably horny that she’s resorted to voyeurism. It’s the experimental hormones’ fault.

  Well, to be honest, the hormones she takes daily aren’t actually experimental. They are ancient formulas with well-known effects. Their first recorded use were on twenty-first-century earth hucow farms where they were employed to exploit women and turn them into milk producing, mentally feeble, sexually lascivious beasts.

  Their use was banned eight centuries ago and for good reason. But now we need the use of these powerful hormones again. We need them to help humanity wage battle against the plague of barrenness that’s sweeping the satellite colonies surrounding the eight terraformed planets.

  In addition to their renowned hucow effects, these powerful hormones cure female infertility. Transforming into a hucow is a small price to pay for the blessing of becoming a mother. Isn’t it?

  I just hope we don’t repeat the sins of the past with our current hucow fertility experiment. I hope we can use these hormones responsibly this time. I know there’s a way to solve our fertility problem without causing any harm to any more women. I’m sure the solution to the fertility crisis is right under our noses. We’ve just been looking for that solution in all the wrong places.

  For better or worse, it’s my duty as the Chief Medical Direct
or of The Farm to make certain we find a cure for this crisis. And while finding a cure for infertility is vital, we must make sure that as scientists, we act reasonably and keep the unwanted side effects of these miracle fertility hormones to a bare minimum.

  My scientific team and I are trying our best to tweak the hormone profiles of the ancient Lacta-pump formula we use. We’re working hard to decrease the pill’s unwanted side-effects while maintaining its fertility benefits. But, I fear we’re fighting a losing battle. The hucows who live on The Farm are growing more milk heavy and lusty with each passing day.

  “Authorization, Chief Medical Director, Doctor Kale Craig. Close private diary.”

  Chapter 2

  “Yes, yes, oh…god, yes!”

  Swiftly, I angled my chin down in the throws of my pleasure. As I whipped my head from side to side, my long, loose, coffee-brown ringlets of hair flew in front of my face, temporarily blinding me. But, I didn’t care. I didn’t need to see or think right now. All I needed to do was feel — good.

  Oh, god, this feels soooo…good.

  I circled my finger faster. Around and around, and up and over my tiny nub, my finger flew. I gritted my teeth then cried out again as I pushed my solitary finger down hard and rubbed. I rubbed and rubbed…and rubbed until my climax peaked and my body shivered with pleasure. Then I laughed aloud my ecstasy as my clit first jumped up then settled down into a peaceful pulsing bliss.

  I panted — hard.

  “Howzit, Aurora?”

  Damn it. Can’t a woman enjoy a moment of pleasure, unmolested?

  “Howzit, Aurora?” My best friend Tita’s voice echoed loudly inside the tiny multi-purpose room of my living quarters.

  “Howzit, Aurora?” Her strong voice rang out again. Thank god, Tita wasn’t actually here. It was just my ancient earth-style ringtone pestering me again. It was letting me know I had an incoming telephone call.

  Oh, crap! I have an incoming call.

  Just about everything on this planet was ancient — and left me alone to engage in my private vices — except the medical technology and the artificial intelligence here at The Farm. If I didn’t answer my telephone soon, my apartment’s AI would sense I was home and answer the phone call automatically. I would be caught wet-fingered with my hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.

  With rushed motions, I propelled the fingers of my clean hand forward, searching blindly for the button that would return my spy-cam to me. Bang! Bang! My flailing fingers turned into one continuously smashing palm moving swiftly, pummeling the koa wood top of my antique coffee table, in vain.

  I lifted my head and brushed away the tendrils of hair blocking my vision. My eyes flitted from side to side, searching frantically until I found the flat pink switch.

  Got ya! With the dexterity of a woman used to working with her hands, I slammed my palm down hard on the emergency shut-down button. The holographic image of the very naked Dr. Kale Craig enjoying his morning shower vanished instantly.

  Now panting from exertion instead of bliss, I slammed my thighs shut and pulled down my long milking-skirt while saying the words aloud.

  “Authorization, Milkmaid Aurora Silver. Accept incoming call - now.”

  “Aloha, good morning, Aurora!”

  The hologram of my government handler, Napua, popped up curvy and tall in front of my eyes. I smoothed my long brown curls with my clean hand, hoping I looked presentable, knowing she could see me too.

  “Aloha! Good morning, Napua. You look as beautiful as ever,” I greeted her, thankful she had spoken her greeting in English. I’ve lived on this planet for five years now but still have yet to begin to master the language.

  My brain just can’t seem to grasp the meaning of the new words. Doctor Craig says it’s a side effect of my treatment. So, everyone at The Farm is extra kind to me and addresses me mostly with phrases I understand.

  “Mahalo hoaloha,” Napua said with a broad smile.

  There she goes again using words I don’t understand. I believe she said ‘thank you, friend,’ so I smiled back and nodded like I understood her exact meaning. While I was still grinning and bobbing my head up and down, she returned my nod with a half-smile that was clearly masking a concerned grimace.

  “Sorry for disturbing you before your morning milking,” she cleared her throat. “But, I don’t want you to forget that you have an appointment this morning with The Farm publicity department. It’s your turn to record this week’s promotional video.”

  “I thought it was Tita’s turn again,” I said wrinkling my nose and searching my mind for the memory of which one of us was supposed to demonstrate our milking skills this week.

  “No,” Napua said, chuckling softly. “You’re the Milkmaid who has been awarded the privilege of representing The Farm this week.

  “Thank you,” I gasped, genuinely grateful she had reminded me. Publicity would be furious if I missed another recording session.

  I was The Farm’s second most popular milkmaid behind Tita, of course. Tita and I sold a lot of milk. Expensive, highly prized donkey milk — and human breast milk too.

  Milk sales were the engine that funded this medical research facility and working farm. We were all doing important work at The Farm; the milkmaids and medical staff alike. We were feeding the thirsty elite of the eight terraformed planets while simultaneously helping to save humanity from potential extinction with our vital fertility research.

  I was happy to do my part to keep the research facility profitable by filming another milking demonstration publicity video. Perhaps I would milk my favorite donkey, Alana for today’s demonstration. She and her newest foal were such loving animals. Alana was a fine mother who always produced the most deliciously creamy milk.

  “Aloha, happy milking,” Napua waved her goodbye before she disconnected the call and her hologram evaporated before my eyes.

  Happy for the reminder, but relieved to be alone again to continue my morning routine, I lifted my glistening index finger to my lips and licked its length. I savored the rich taste and fragrance. And with two twirls of my tongue and one long, deep suck, I cleansed away the perfumed feminine arousal coating my slick digit like I did every morning.

  Damn it. A rush of heat smacked my already flushed face — lava hot. Here comes the shame. It's crowding out my brief stolen moment of pleasure, again. Just breathe. Do exactly what the island elders instructed you to do. Just relax and let the uncomfortable emotion flow through you.

  I’m bad.

  No, I’m not bad – the correct word is wrong.

  I’m wrong. No, it’s wrong. It’s wrong,

  I know what I keep doing is wrong.

  The licking.

  The peeping,

  …and the lust.

  But, I can’t help myself. I’m a desperately craven woman.

  And no matter how deep my shame runs over what I do each morning, I continue with my lustful habits day after needy day.

  I remain ashamed, but I’ve come to accept the type of woman I’ve become here on The Farm. I’m the type of woman who spies on her doctor using a bio-engineered fruit fly spy-camera and watches him shower naked every morning. And I’m the type of woman who manually stimulates her clitoris with her finger while she enjoys the view of him lathering up his hot muscular body — in particular, his long, frequently hard and erect cock.

  Mmm…Doctor Craig’s erect cock.

  I licked my lips and swallowed hard, imagining what his creamy flavor would taste like savored inside my mouth. His flavor is the only one I’ve dreamt about relishing between my lips every day of my past five years living in this place.

  But, the flavor of his sweet cream in my mouth is the one delicious taste I fear I may never win the chance to drink down. He’s my doctor, and I’m his patient. It's simple. He’s off limits. His thick, creamy goodness can never be mine. Just like his love and affection, his delicious sweet cream is something I will forever be denied.

  Damn it, woman. Control your lu
st.

  I clenched my fists then allowed them to relax.

  No. No, no no. Lust can’t be controlled. But, it can be soothed away. Listen to the elders’ advice and allow your lustful thoughts to float away from the front of your mind. Let the swelling waters of passion flow outward, like the smooth rippling waves of the ocean flow naturally away from the seashore.

  I stood. My feet glided across the wood floor toward my kitchen. While dipping my head gently from side to side, I turned on the tap and hoped the sensation of the warm water on my hands would distract me from my lascivious thoughts.

  I had work to do. I needed to allow my obsession with Doctor Craig’s hot body to rest until the morning. I couldn’t let my lust for him distract me from my duties.

  Time was ticking by, and I still needed to perform my morning milking. Now would be a good a time to begin expressing my cream. I could relieve both my mind and my body’s tension with a good milking. My breasts were full and heavy with cream, and it would be a welcome relief to feel the suction of my breast pump working its magic on my sore bosom.

  Chapter 3

  Thank goodness milking myself is a simple and hands-free process. It’s far simpler than milking a donkey. Donkey milking is hard work. Satisfying, but hard work.

  Damn it, I’m already horny again.

  I wasn’t always so lustful and ravenous for man meat. But, the current bizzare circumstances of my life have made me this way.

  This wanton woman took a chance and made a deal with the doctors at The Farm five years ago. Now I must own the consequences of that decision.

  Five years ago— what now feels like a lifetime ago—I signed a legally binding contract. My fingers had gripped my pen, and I’d scribbled my signature in the presence of a roomful of government lawyers on the morning of my eighteenth birthday.

  And the worst part was I’d signed that contract willingly. I’d signed away a part of myself that day— a part I had no experience with and didn’t think I would miss — that first day I was officially an adult and free to make my own choices.