The Cougar's Milk

Chapter One

 

It seemed like easy money. Just be a gardener for the summer. A few hours a day. I had a bunch of summer jobs, all under the table, and I was being paid well.

Emmabeth was in her forties; at least I guessed that she was. She said she was a teacher and had the summer off. She was also totally hot, but in an older woman way. Not too old and not at all out of shape; she was like a classic sports car. Bright and shiny and completely worthy of admiration, even if she was out of date and not the best and greatest any longer.

I had a lot to learn.

Her hair was blonde, but I wondered if she dyed it. What really struck me was that she had sea-green eyes.

Well, that and the fact when I met her she was wearing cutoff jean shorts and a top that would be better suited for the beach than the backyard garden.

Her tits weren’t huge, but she filled out the cropped tank top more than adequately.

I hope she didn’t catch me checking out her tits.

If she did, she didn’t say anything or acknowledge it. She put me right to work.

Gardening isn’t easy work. I was hauling dirt and mulch and weeding and trimming and cutting and (briefly) mowing. By the time my three hour shift was up I was sweaty, covered in scratches and bug bites and dirt.

I had even taken off my t-shirt because I was so fucking hot in the humid air. I never take off my shirt, not that I’m embarrassed to, but because I didn’t think it was proper in a working environment. Or maybe my father told me that and I couldn’t stop believing it.

“You look terrible,” Emmabeth said to me, handing over a few folded bills and a huge bottle of water.

I stuffed the bills in my pocket, downed the water in three gulps, and went to retrieve my shirt. “Thanks. Do you need me back tomorrow?”

“Yes, but why don’t you at least shower off before you leave,” she said. “If nothing else, it’ll cool you down before you get home.”

I looked down at myself. I was filthy. “I don’t want to go into your house and get dirt everywhere.”

She smiled. “You can use the outdoor shower.”

“Outdoor shower?” I was confused. I had thought about just dousing myself off with the garden hose, but is that what she meant? Did she mean for me to set up a sprinkler and run though it like a little kid?

She beckoned me with one finger and led me around to the back of the garden shed.

We were in the middle of our village, a smallish college town. Northeast quarter was the student slums; southeast were the nice houses where townies and professors lived; west side was the college. The southeast houses were all close to the streets, but with huge backyards and lots of trees and greenery between them all.

Behind the garden shed it was almost as private as a bathroom inside a house.

Emmabeth indicated the outdoor shower. It was nothing more than an old shower head above a rectangular piece of slate, almost as big as a regular shower stall.

“Outdoor shower,” she said and looked me up and down, as if examining me for the first time.

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” I told her.

“Just strip down. No one will see you here. You can rinse out your clothes and just put them back on. It’s so hot that you’ll probably dry off before you get home. Are you walking?”

I nodded yes. “I’m up in the student slums.”

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Emmabeth left, but right before she went around the corner of the garden shed, she gave me one last look.

The idea of a cold shower sounded great and at this point I didn’t care if anyone saw me or not.

I stripped off everything, kicking my boots far enough away so they wouldn’t get wet, and turned on the water. It was little more than a garden hose hooked up to the showerhead, but it was glorious.

I stood under the freezing water, shivering in delight, sluicing the dirt, grime, and sweat off my body. My cock shriveled up in the cold water, but I didn’t care.

It must have been a good ten minutes I stood under the water. I didn’t care. The water would be good for the flowers.

It was private. Mostly. From where I stood, the second story back corner of Emmabeth’s house had a partially obscured view of the outdoor shower.

Thinking about her looking at me naked under the water made my cock stir so it wasn’t so tiny.

“Here!” A voice shouted and I jumped, slipping on the slate which caused me to crash to the ground.

Slate isn’t nearly as forgiving as the turf on the rugby field. “Fucking ow!” I grunted and looked at where the shout had come from.

A bright yellow towel was being waved from around the shed’s corner.

“Are you okay?” Emmabeth burst out. She stuck her head around the corner. I hoped she blushed a little, but seeing me sprawled on the slate caused her to rush to my aid. “Oh my god did I make you fall?”

I wasn’t in pain. Much. My ass hurt where I slipped. The water was still going and I tried to reach the faucet from my position on the floor. It was well out of reach. I only succeeded in showing Emmabeth everything I had.

I was certain that she checked me out before summarily turning off the water and then tossing the towel over my body.

“Are you okay?” she repeated, kneeling down next to me.

“Yeah,” I grunted, struggling up into a more dignified position. “I’m okay. Ruggers are used to falling.”

“But not on slate,” she pointed out.

“Yeah. Well...I’m still okay.” My left ass cheek and left thigh hurt, along with my left wrist, but I’d survive.

“Do you want some ice?”

“Sure,” I said. No reason to fight a bruise. “I’ll take some ice.”

“Come inside the house. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get your place all wet.”

“Back door leads to the kitchen. You won’t get it all wet.”

I managed to get up to my feet and wrap the towel around my waist. It was sufficiently sized, though I sort of wished it was a little smaller. Maybe Emmabeth would want to sneak another peek.

She led the way and I gingerly followed. The fall wasn’t bad and her ass was enticing enough for me to follow. More than enticing enough.

Inside she grabbed me a couple of ice packs and gave me more water and hovered all around like a worried nurse. I kept checking out her tits; I figured I had earned that privilege. I sat on a bench just inside the door with an ice pack under my ass.

It wasn’t doing my cock any favors.

“I think I’ll survive,” I said.

“I feel so bad,” she apologized. “It was all my fault. I should have told you I was getting you a towel and I shouldn’t have startled you like that.”

“It’s fine.” I was still staring at her tits. I wondered what they looked like without the tank top on. Did she have tan lines? Were her breasts still spectacular even without the support of the athletic top?

She was silent for a long moment. “Do you like them?”

“What?” I asked, startled once again.

“You’re staring at my boobs. Do you like them?”

I turned my head and looked away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to stare. I was...uh...distracted by them.”

Despite my situation, my cock started to rise.

FUCK! The last thing I needed was to have a woody in front of my new employer, especially a one as attractive as Emmabeth.

She might have noticed. I wasn’t sure because what she did next surprised the hell out of me and my cock really appreciated it.

Digging her fingers under the tight elastic band that defined the bottom of the crop top, she pulled it up over her head, freeing her tits.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.

“Do you like them?” Emmabeth asked again, enunciating each word carefully.

I nodded slowly. “You don’t have to show me your...uh...breasts.” I looked away, not wanting to upset her, which made no sense because she had taken off her top. It hadn’t fallen off by accident or suddenly disintegrated because of a fabric failure on an atomic level.

“I wanted to,” she said, leaning back and showing them off a bit. I couldn’t keep NOT looking away. I looked back and stared.

They were gorgeous. Full without being huge. Still upright despite her age. She had tan lines, and she must have spent a lot of time outside in a small bikini top that barely covered her light brown nipples and areola. The areola were perfectly sized to her breast volume, but her nipples were slightly too large, both in length and diameter. They were almost too big to be attractive, but that one little detail that didn’t fit made her even sexier. Her nipples were hard in the air conditioning inside the house.

“After all, I’ve gotten several good looks at your cock.”

“What?”

“You slipped. You didn’t cover up very well.”

My face flushed hot, not with the weather or physical exertion, but embarrassment.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. “Well, maybe not a first. Cold water didn’t do you any favors, but now I’m quite impressed.” She looked down at my lap. My cock head was poking up between the ends of the towel.

I hurriedly covered myself up with both hands.

“Are you ashamed of your cock?” she asked me.

I shook my head no. I had no idea of how to proceed. She was coming on to me. That was obvious. I wasn’t stupid. But she was twice my age and I was certain she was showing me her tits to atone for making me fall.

Or maybe she was just a horny middle-aged woman who liked to fuck college guys.

I hoped it was the second thing.

Smiling, she stood up and leaned back against the kitchen counter. Her hands went to her tits, cupping them but not covering the nipples. I appreciated that.

“They aren’t too big, are they?”

I shook my head no again.

Emmabeth leaned forward, showing them off at another angle. “Do you want to know what makes them so perfect?” she asked.

Perfect. Yes. That was the word for her tits. There was no other word to adequately describe them. They were the type of tits that all other tits in the world aspired to be like.

“Good clean, pure living?” I asked nervously.

She laughed and shook her head. “No. They’re full of milk. Too many women go their entire lives never using their tits for their intended purpose. My tits have been full of milk for most of my life and look how perfect they are.”

What she was saying was crazy, but I was happy to go along with it.

“Oh. That’s...that’s great. That’s incredible.” I cleared my throat and wished my cock would go down, but her tits were making that impossible. One part of me wanted to grab my clothes and run away; the other part of me wanted to keep sitting on the bench and hoped she would just give me a blowjob. A secret, tiny part of me wanted to fuck her right there against the kitchen counter, but I was too much of a coward to make that happen.

“Want to try them?” she asked.

“What?”

“Want to try my milk?” Emmabeth clarified. “Milk is the first food everyone has. We give it up too early in life.”

She took the two steps forward to press her tits into my face.

What could I do? I took a nipple into my mouth and sucked.

Bliss!

Don’t get me wrong. I’d experienced plenty of women’s tits in my twenty years. Small ones, big ones, large bulbous ones, torpedo tits, tiny bumps, the whole spectrum. But in one respect they were all pretty much the same: they tasted like skin. Skin that could cause a woman to gasp in pleasure, but that was it.

After just a couple of tentative sucks on Emmabeth’s nipple, my mouth was flooded with a sugary sweetness. It was similar to a thin fruit juice or warm water with honey, but somehow it was better than that.

Emmabeth trembled slightly as her milk filled my mouth and I swallowed because what else does one do in that situation?

I would have told her I wanted to drink from her tits for the rest of my life after that one drink, but my mouth was full of her nipple and milk so I did what came naturally. I continued sucking and swallowing.

My hand went up to her free breast because I wanted to fondle it and pinch her nipple. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found it was leaking milk. That didn’t stop me, of course, from squeezing her firm flesh, but it wasn’t something I had experienced with other women.

Abruptly she stood up straight, pulling her breast from between my lips. “What?” I was confused. I wanted to keep sucking on her.

“My back,” she complained, putting her hands on her lower back and rolling her hips around. That action did wonders for jiggling her breasts about and I was mesmerized.

“Want to go do this somewhere more comfortable?” she asked me after a moment of ogling her tits.

“Sure!” What the hell else was I going to say? No thanks, your tits have milk in them and you’re probably twice my age. That’s just too kinky for me.

That wasn’t nearly too kinky for me.

“My bed would be best,” she said.

I nodded and stood up. My butt was still sore, but for her tits—and a promise of so much more—I was willing to work through the pain.

Without thinking, I automatically adjusted the towel around my waist in an effort to hide my hard cock. It was a wasted effort.

“You’re really going to keep that on?” she asked me.

“Oh. Yeah...right.” I dropped it on the floor. Her eyes examined my manhood with approval. I’m not going to brag, but I’ve gotten lots of compliments on size, length, shape, curve, the whole package as it were. Every woman has her preference, but I like to think I have a utilitarian cock that serves almost all needs.

Emmabeth reached out and caressed me. I wanted to cum right there and then, but I held back. There was more pleasure to be had in waiting.

She curled her fingers around my length and gently tugged me forward.

I followed. It was an easy decision to make.

She led me through the house, up the stairs, to her bedroom where she summarily pushed me down into a sitting position on the bed, my cock standing up from my lap.

I admired her tits. I couldn’t stop admiring them.

“You like them?” she asked me again.

I nodded yes.

“I told you milk was good for them.” She proceeded to stick them in my face again.

This time I turned my head the opposite way and sucked on the other breast. Its milk was just as sweet and flowed easily. She liked it when I cupped her other breast and teased the nipple.

Slowly she crawled onto my lap and pushed me back so that I was forced to lie down and she was straddling my hips. My cock was pressing up between her legs, but she still had her cutoff shorts on. No chance of penetration.

But that didn’t matter at the moment because her tits were in my face and her nipple was in my mouth and I was sucking happily, greedily at her milk.

Totally worth it.

She moaned appreciatively at my efforts. There was almost too much milk to swallow. It wasn’t like a never-ending fountain, but it came steadily and I wanted it more with each mouthful.

I found myself switching back and forth between her tits. Judging from her moans and shivering reactions, she seemed to like that.

She didn’t mind at all that I let my hands roam all over her body, especially her ass. While her tits were fantastic, her ass was more than enough competition. Firm under the shorts, but with just enough give that I couldn’t wait to give her a couple of bare bottomed smacks.

My cock was being strangled between her thighs pressing down on me, but I wasn’t complaining. I wanted to please her first because I didn’t want this to be the last time we messed around.

I found the secret. Suck hard on one nipple while rolling the other back and forth between my fingers. She trembled and shook when I did that.

“Fuck,” she breathed softly. Then said it louder, “Fuck!” And louder still when she got to her peak. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK YES!” She came hard on top of me. Her milk got all over my chest, but I wasn’t complaining. It was a compliment.

“You made me cum,” she breathed, barely able to stay kneeling above my body. I was holding her up with my arms, but I was getting tired. I eased her down to my chest. Our faces were incredibly close. It was only natural for me to turn my face and kiss her.

Emmabeth’s lips were soft and inviting. I wanted to kiss them forever. She opened her mouth just a little, letting me push my tongue against hers. They did that dance every couple learned from each other, wet muscle feeling out the other wet muscle.

She was the one to break the kiss. “I love the taste of my milk,” she told me.

“Oh...yeah. I love it as well.” What the hell else was I going to say? I was worried that she knew what her milk tasted like, even on my tongue, but I wasn’t going to question that.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re a natural at nursing.”

“Thanks?” I said, still uncertain on how to act or reply.

“Some men take a lot of practice to learn not to bite or suck too hard,” she said, sliding off to the side of my body.

I opened my mouth to reply, but her hand found my cock I was once again unable to articulate my complex emotions just then. It was especially hard considering the sexual politics of the moment.

I watched as she started jerking me off. Watching her fist pump up and down on my cock was much better than having it pinched between my body and her jean shorts. I had been hard the entire time I had been sucking on her tits, so it didn’t take much for her to put me on the edge.

“You are a big boy,” she complimented me, pausing in her firm stroking.

“Nooo…” I moaned. “Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please don’t stop.”

“Do you want to fuck?” She asked me.

My eyes lit up. “Yes!” I was desperate. Of course I wanted to fuck. I was a horny twenty year old college student wasting away my summer.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you well enough to fuck you,” she said.

I groaned in complaint. I needed to cum or my head was going to explode.

Luckily she started masturbating my cock again.

“Oh...oh...oh yeah…”

I was right on the bubble...and then she stopped again!

“What the fuck!”

Emmabeth laughed at me. She literally laughed. “You’ve never been properly teased before?”

I was gasping. I just wanted to cum. I had made her cum. It was my turn to cum. I had earned a nice orgasm. Of course I could have just grabbed my cock and jerked off in front of her, but that was humiliating and I wanted her to do it. It feels better when someone else does it for you.

“No. I don’t want to be teased. I want to cum.”

She wrapped her fingers around me again. “I can keep you on edge all day if you want. All day and all night.”

“No...I want to cum. I want...FUCK! I need to be at my next job in…” I desperately looked around the room until I spied the ornamental clock on the wall. “In half an hour. Shit!”

Her hand knew exactly what to do. I had been jerked off by other women...other girls, really...and Emmabeth’s technique was the best.

Or maybe I was just horny laying next to her because I needed to cum and be done with it.

“I’ll make you cum,” she promised, “but if you want, I’ll keep this going for hours.”

She circled a finger around the corona of my head and had me gasping. I wondered how effective her hand work would be with some lube. Would I have already cum or would she have made my erection even more painful?

Both sounded like perfect torture. I’d pay money for either outcome.

“Please make me cum,” I begged. “Please.”

I sounded pathetic to my own ears. I surely sounded worse to hers. She was an experienced woman who had fucked...I don’t know a dozen guys in her lifetime? A hundred? It could have been two or it could have been a million for all I knew. My pathetic number of getting in bed with six girls and actually fucking only three of them seemed lame.

I suddenly understood why experienced, older women were held in high esteem.

“Okay,” she relented. “Let me help you out.”

But instead of helping me out, she let go of my cock.

I whined at her action.

And then her lips wrapped around the cockhead, right behind the ridge and I was on edge again. I was going to cum.

She sucked gently, lowering her mouth just enough, but not swallowing all my length. Her mouth was warm and wet and I was going to cum and give her a treat to swallow that was better than her milk.

But she backed off too soon. I was right there! I just needed another second of sucking to explode.

“I want to watch you cum,” she said and ran her finger up the length of my cock from my balls to the tip. She circled the head with her finger and then rapidly zipped her finger up and down the thick vein on the underside, using her saliva as lube.

It was a strangely erotic and unique feeling. It left me gasping. It was too much.

She pulled her finger away at just the right moment. I was about to cum and when she pulled away, my orgasm refused to erupt.

I kept gasping. I was on the edge. I was over it. I was back to torture.

Emmabeth stared at my cock. I stared at my cock. It was huge and purple and was jerking on its own accord.

I needed to cum. I stared at Emmabeth’s bare tits.

They were slowly dripping milk onto my leg and her bed.

That’s all it took.

I came.

Thick shots of ropey cum flew up into the air, hung there beautifully a moment, before crashing back down onto my chest and belly.

I came without her touching me at the end.

It was incredible.

I ejaculated more and more. I didn’t think I had that much cum in me.

I didn’t think I could shoot it all the way up to my neck.

“Wow. You really did need to cum,” Emmabeth commented. She ran her finger through the small puddles of cum on my skin, getting just enough of the thick fluid on her finger to taste it when she stuck it in her mouth.

“Yeah...yeah I did.”

“Tell you what,” she said brightly. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow and we’ll do some more gardening and maybe we can pick things up from here.”

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

The next day I went back to Emmabeth’s with some trepidation. Had it all been some weird dream? It didn’t seem real that I could fuck a beautiful older woman with such ease. If anything, she was more eager to fuck me that I was to fuck her.

When I got to her house, dressed in my shorts and boots and t-shirt because I wasn’t dressing for a sex date, I was dressing to work as a gardener, she was already in the backyard garden. Today she was wearing a loose flower print dress that seemed more like something she’d wear to a summer arts festival or to go shopping at the farmer’s market.

I couldn’t help myself and I stared at her chest. It was impossible to tell, but it seemed like she wasn’t wearing a bra.

That thought alone was enough to stiffen my cock. I tried to see if she was checking out my package, but Emmabeth seemed cooler towards me this morning.

Maybe everything we had done was just in my imagination.

After she had jerked me off, I cleaned up with a washcloth in her bathroom, and then had to run to my next job. Looking back I realized it had to have been a fantasy about fucking her. I generally didn’t go for older women—I had never had the opportunity—and the whole thing with her tits dripping milk, making milk, that wasn’t real, was it?

Just a fantasy.

Smiling at me the entire time, she gave me instructions, she finished it all up with, “I’ll be inside if you need me.” I was stunned when she turned around and went inside her house.

Her dress wasn’t tight enough for me to admire her ass, which was a disappointment. Still, I wasn’t getting paid to stand around and fantasize about my employer. I was the gardener. I gardened.

It was hot. It was sweaty. It wasn’t fun.

Her garden wasn’t huge but it was big enough to keep me running back and forth doing all my assigned tasks.

I was certain that I had dreamed everything from the day before and as I finished up I considered using the outdoor shower again, just to cool off and get the dirt off my hands and face, but then I remembered it was just a fantasy. A dream. A gossamer thin memory that wasn’t real.

And then I walked around the far edge of the garden to find Emmabeth on her knees pulling weeds from a flowerbed. That wasn’t all that strange. She had done the same thing yesterday. Today I had a perfect view of her ass as her loose dress pulled tightly around her flesh.

I stared for longer than was acceptable, but she didn’t know I was there.

I took an unsteady step forward and remember that yesterday must have been real because my ass was still sore where I fell. I could feel the bruise.

“Like the view?” she asked, pausing in her weeding, but not turning around to look at me.

“What?” I was startled at her question. How could she know I was staring at her ass if she was still looking at the flowers?

“Do you like the view of the flowers now that I’ve gotten rid of all the weeds?” she asked as she got to her feet and turned around. She wasn’t as hot and sweaty as me, but it was close. I checked out her tits again. Definitely no bra. I tried not to stare and looked at the flowerbed.

“Yeah. It looks great.”

Confession time. I wasn’t really a gardener. I only took the job because it was ninety nine percent manual labor. I couldn’t tell a tulip from a sunflower.

“I think we’re done here. Want to get cleaned up?”

“Sure.”

The flowers were pretty.

I automatically followed Emmabeth as she walked around the shed. For a second I was stunned when I saw the outdoor showerhead and it dawned upon me that maybe what had happened yesterday wasn’t just a dream.

As I took that in Emmabeth slipped her dress from her shoulders. She was facing away from me. She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra. And she definitely wasn’t wearing any panties. Holy shit! She had a great ass for a woman over forty. Hell, she had a great ass for any woman whatsoever.

“Come over here and suckle me,” she said sweetly, turning ever so slowly. I realized we were in the privacy area of the yard behind the shed where no one could see us. No one unless they were in that one bedroom on the second floor.

I did what she asked.

It was awkward walking forward with a full blown erection in my shorts, but I managed. I went down to my knees and took a nipple between my lips.

Her body was hot. Literally hot. She was sweating. I could taste the sweat on her breast and nipple.

I sucked once, and then twice, and then on the third pull, she flooded my mouth with sweetness that washed away the salty flavor of her sweat.

She moaned and moved so that her back was against the shed. My knees were pressed on the slate, but the pain was worth it.

It had only been a day since I had tasted her milk and already I lusted after it more than a beer or a shot. Maybe it was because it was new and novel.

More likely it was because I desired her body more than I realized.

Still, her milk was fucking amazing. I could drink it and only it for the rest of my life and die happy. The strange thing was I wasn’t weirded out by sucking milk from the tits of a middle-aged woman while she was naked with her back against the garden shed.

She didn’t mind me running my hands over her naked body. I think she enjoyed it.

In almost no time at all she was gasping in pleasure and writhing against the shed wall. I wanted to stick my fingers into her pussy, but I held back. I was more focused on her tits at the moment.

And her milk.

For an older woman she had fantastic tits and the fact that she was full of milk made it even better.

I wanted to make her cum again just by sucking on her tits.

Emmabeth struggled against me. I was pinning her against the wall. I wasn’t forcing her to stay there, but I wasn’t letting her push back against me to change positions or do something else. I was determined to drain her milk completely or make her cum, whichever came first.

Though I would have been happier to make both happen.

As it was, I made her cum first. I was sucking hard on one nipple. She had one hand on my shoulder and the other was pinching and massaging her free tit. I had both hands on her naked hips, holding her against the wall.

The sound she made when she came was unmistakable. I’ve been with enough women to know when it’s being faked and when it’s real. She was doing her utmost to keep her little shriek of pleasure stifled, but there’s only so much a woman can do when she’s cumming.

Once I had made her cum, I pulled back from her. She wasn’t stable on her own and slowly slid down the smooth wall to the ground, her legs open, her knees bent. I looked at her naked body. Maybe her breasts weren’t as full as before, but I wasn’t staring at them as much. I was focused on her pussy.

Emmabeth must have spent a good amount of her time out in the sun. She was tan...except for her hips. When she was out having fun she must have worn the smallest possible bikini bottoms. And then I realized that her tits didn’t have tan lines at all. Her breasts were pretty much evenly tanned.

Better and better.

Her pussy wasn’t shaved bare. That would have been hot and sexy. She left a little landing strip of dark blonde curls maybe two inches wide from the top of her slit to just beneath the edge of her tan line.

Her inner lips were swollen. They were probably pulsing. They were certainly slick with her amrita. I could see her juices all but dripping out of her pussy.

“Like what you see?”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded. My cock was trapped inside my shorts. I wanted to fuck her, but, strange as it sounds, it seemed rude to just ask her to fuck. I wouldn’t know exactly how to go about asking, even though we’d already been intimate.

“Get your shorts off,” she said.

“Why?”

Emmabeth laughed at me. That was fine. I deserved a little mockery for such a stupid question. “So I can suck your dick. Why else?”

“Okay.” I wasn’t going to argue with her. It was the best offer I had all day.

Getting off my knees I dropped my shorts and approached her mouth with my hard cock. I had been stupid and left my boots on. That didn’t stop her from wrapping her hand around my manhood and drawing it to her mouth.

If anything, her mouth was hotter than the sultry air. She sucked my cock like I had sucked her tits, hard and with no regard for the weakness of flesh. I don’t produce a huge amount of precum, but I hope she could taste mine over the sweat. I was covered in sweat and the only reason my dick wasn’t covered in dirt was because I had kept on my shorts until this very moment.

Emmabeth proved she was an experienced woman. I’d been with a decent number of women—girls for the most part—but none of them compared to her. She wasn’t shy about taking my length into her mouth and down her throat. She held firmly to my balls, keeping me under her control. Other girls—women—would have played innocent, but not Emmabeth. She happily slid her tongue up and down my length giving me a wet, sloppy blowjob that was easily the best of my life.

Right when I was on the edge and ready to blow, she stopped. Her fingers circled around the base of my cock and prevented any inadvertent orgasm. It was painful not to cum.

“Please…” I begged.

“Please what?” she taunted me. Who knew she was such a dominant woman.

“Please...I need to cum!”

“Maybe I don’t want you to cum.”

“What?” I was shocked. I had made her cum. She had asked to give me a blowjob and brought me right up to the finish line, and then she wanted to stop and walk away. It was cruel and unreasonable. If she wasn’t going to make me cum, that was fine, but she could at least release my cock so I could walk away and jerk off, finishing.