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He was facing the opposite wall when the door on the lower level creaked open at last, his heart tripping in his chest as he unbuttoned his pants.
“How are you today?”There. Completely appropriate. Benign small talk.He swallowed hard as he turned, unexpectedly meeting the girl’s eye. Huge dark eyes, luminous like the moon. He was a sucker for big doe eyes and always had been. She was petite, slightly pear-shaped with appealing curves, and clearly human. Or at least, humanoid, with no discernible smell that set her apart as something else. She wore lavender scrubs, a mask covering the lower portion of her face, and a surgical cap over her head, a curly ponytail of dark hair spilling down her back. Her voice was hesitant as she responded, edging into the room.
“I’m well. It’s nice to see you again.”
It was idiotic to admit that he was elated that she remembered him, but that didn’t stop a bubble from inflating in his chest, crowding out his lungs.This is undignified. You’re probably old enough to be her father.He wasn’t, not really. He could see that plainly. The technician was no child, and he thought there might be around a decade between them, but he’d never been terribly good at guessing ages, particularly for humans, and didn’t want to leave it to chance.
“Actually,” she went on, ducking beneath the bench he was meant to be straddling, “I suppose I’m well enough.” She had completely disappeared from his line of sight.And that’s that.
He undressed slowly, listening to her narrate her tale of woe, a series of mishaps beginning, it seemed, with his file. “So, does that make me the origin of all your bad luck?” He was meant to be straddling the bench already and would have already been gritting his teeth in impatience if the technician had kept him waiting on them the way he was currently keeping her stalled in place, but he could not bring himself to approach the bench, not yet.
Her voice was like the chirp of a little bird, which was not helping his dilemma. He couldn’t sit down unless he knew that she wasn’t some wide-eyed undergrad. He would never be able to ejaculate if she was, and as it stood, he wouldn’t be able to do so withoutknowing. At least, that’s what he told himself. His cock had not received the same memo, and it stood eagerly at attention, bobbing as she spoke.
“Well, then we’d best get started so you’re not late to your last appointment,” he quipped lightly, forcing himself to straddle the bench at last. “I’ll try to time my inconveniences for later in the day next time.” He needed to fit himself through the opening, relax against the bench, and think about second-quarter billing, something deadly dull and serious, and not focus on what was happening beneath him. “Are you still in school?”
The words were out before he could stop himself.Open mouth, insert hoof.Silence seemed to vibrate through the room, and he wondered if he would simply leave, reporting him for the inappropriateness of his question.What is wrong with you? Why does it matter?!
“I’m not.” Her voice was slower, and he heard the hesitation there. “I finished grad school over a year ago. Just waiting for a job in my field that actually pays the bills now.”
His erection jerked at the news. He was sure she heard his sigh of relief, grateful she couldn’t see the way his shoulders sagged.Thank fuck, she’s an actual adult.
“It’s difficult out there right now,” he murmured, palming himself. He was desperate to be touched by then and was unsurprised by the bead of pre-cum that welled from his cocktip as he gave himself a stroke. He was positive his penis jerked away from him, not wantinghistouch at that moment.I know, I know. “Entry level isn’t what it used to be. But they treat you well here?”Why does that matter now? Are you going to ask her for a list of references next? You’re going to screw up your schedule for the whole day at this rate.
When she answered in the affirmative, he wasted no more time as he lowered himself to the bench, filling the hole until his hips were flush with the upholstery. His cock was rock hard. He was a professional, Rourke reminded himself as she slickened him with oil. He owned his own business, was a respected member of the minotaur community, and was a good neighbor in Cambric Creek. He had people who depended on him, and he ought to display the sort of comportment expected from someone in his position. The pad of one of her dainty fingers pressed against his slit at that moment, spreading pre-cum over the pink dome of his cockhead, nearly making him choke, comportment evaporating.
“Just let me know if this is too much pressure.”
Her voice was low and hushed, and although he knew it was likely owed to the barrier of the bench between them, it was easy to imagine a more intimate setting. Her words muted against his skin as they stretched across his bed, the rumble in his chest vibrating against her as she gripped him. It had been ages since he had a woman in his bed. At least, someone who wasn’t fumbling for her panties an hour later, in a hurry to find the exit, not that there had been many of those either. His sporadic hookups almost never took place in his own bed, but it was the personal sanctum of his bedroom he thought of now.
Thiswould be slow, exquisitely slow. She would stroke him until he was writhing, ending her with her astride him, riding his cock as if he were a mechanical bull in a pub, trying to keep her seat as he bucked up inside her. He would bury his face between her thighs, licking up every drop of her sweet honey, feasting on her cunt until she came against his tongue, writhing as he licked her clean. Her lovely dark eyes would still be heavy-lidded with pleasure when he at last settled himself atop her, the same position he was in on the bench.
When she slipped a finger into the sheath of skin around his cockhead, he thought he might levitate.It wasn’t a one-time fluke. His eyes rolled back as she rubbed him from the inside, unable to hold in a low groan of pleasure. Every nerve-packed inch of his foreskin was vulnerable to her exploration, and she left no part of him untouched. His hooves scraped, his unsupported weight pushing his cock even lower, giving her full access.
Her finger slipped further, finding his sweet spot and rubbing it insistently.Like they gave her a treasure map or something.Maybe the kind kids get at the lobster restaurant — pluck his banjo string and X marks the spot for the biggest load yet. Over and over, she slid against his frenulum until he moaned, a deep, choked groan of pleasure, the fingers he tightened over the side of the bench the only thing preventing him from bucking into the air.You’re supposed to be in control, thinking about the dentist, thinking about anything!It didn’t make a difference. There was no blood left in brain to think about anything other than what she was doing to his cock, and how good it felt.
The whole world had narrowed to the tip of her finger, and it was all he could do to keep from exploding right then and there.Wait a minute . . . exploding is the whole point!When she began to stroke him from root to tip, he groaned again. Rourke wasn’t sure how he was meant to get back on the dating carousel again after this, how he was meant to attempt to have a sexual connection with anyone else.Noonehad ever handled his cock half so well, not any of the partners he’d had in the past two years, not Veleena, nor any of the college girlfriends and hometown fumbles who’d come before. He’d had good sex before. He’d had great sex before. But none of his previous partners had handled him so instinctively, finding his most sensitive spots with ease, turning him inside out.
His hips began to hitch, and the need to thrust was overwhelming. He closed his eyes as he humped against the opening on the bench, attempting to focus on the feeling of her tiny hands sliding down his shaft. This is what he would do to her, if given the chance. He prided himself on being a generous lover, and every moment of bliss she provided him, he would be sure to reciprocate threefold, treating her pussy like a goddess. He would give this girl whatever she wanted, fuck her however and as often she required, and would say thank you for the privilege after.
His cockhead felt as though it were vibrating as her hands stilled, and he prepared for the sound of the milking machine to begin, the unconscious trigger to come . . . instead, she gripped his shaft in both hands, the ring of her fingers remaining loose enough for him to continue moving, and snug enough for the squeeze to make him see stars. She was letting him fuck her hands, he realized, fuck the ring of her fingers the same way he wanted to fuck her, his heavy balls slapping against her.
He would have her up on her knees, ass high in the air, his balls slapping against her clit as he filled her with his huge bull cock, still in his bed, the most and best action it had seen since its purchase. He moaned at the thought, still fucking her hands, until the light in his brain clicked on bright green, the whirring hum he knew so well cutting through the fog of his fantasy.
The girl wasn’t done with him. She teased his cockhead, letting the sucking, textured mouth of the machine slurp at him, making him jerk with every pass until she worked it, at last, down his swollen shaft. When she began to squeeze and knead his balls, he couldn’t hold back. The sound that ripped from his throat would embarrass him later, he was certain. It was bestial, a reminder of the horned creature who’d sired the first minotaur, and his hooves scraped the bench as if he might charge as his cock erupted.
It was almost painful as he spurted into the machine. The girl was still massaging his testicles, milking them like udders, and he wondered if he would bloat her belly with his release in his fantasy scenario. He would keep rutting against her as he flooded her womb, filling her up until she was left dripping in his cum, dripping for days. He would make a mess of the sheets, a mess of the shower, would fuck her on every surface of his house until being filled with him was as comfortable as breathing, and then he’d do it all over again until she was screaming his name.
The machine clicked off, and his cock slipped free, spent and swinging.
What iswrongwith you? Nothing about this is appropriate! This girl is at work. Work! She’s not here to be drooled over by the clients like this is a date. She’s on the fucking clock.He shuddered when she cleaned him off, the same little squeeze to his balls as if she were hugging them goodbye. His balance was unsteady when he pushed off the bench at last, his legs unable to support him for a moment.
Rourke knew the voice in his head was correct — absolutely nothing about this was appropriate, least of all his thoughts, but he couldn’t deny the other looming truth.Thathad not been a typical milking. Even if one only had this place as their point of comparison, he’d been coming here for months and had never experienced anything like what had just happened.
“One more after this, then? The slot after this one is your last for the day?” He forced his voice to sound as casual as possible as if he’d not just had an out-of-body experience and her fingers hadn’t been in his foreskin.It’s all just completely normal; we might be in line at the bank, and maybe we’ll chat about the weather next.
“Yes.” She turned to face him, eyes wide and bright.
Rourke sniffed. There was something in the air, something that tickled at his nose and made his mouth water. If he hadn’t just ejaculated a geyser, his cock might have stiffened at the taste of it on the air, his hips wanting to hitch. He forced himself to look relaxed.
