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“I’m familiar with it,” he gritted out guardedly when she mentioned it. The unnatural service voice was gone. She was back to speaking with her own voice, the one he had heard in his dreams for weeks, the same soft, wistful voice he’d been conversing with since that first appointment. What the fuck is going on? Is she trying to give you a stroke? You’re going to need to have your blood pressure checked by the time you figure out what’s happening.
“I grew up in an all-human town. Did I ever tell you that? Anyway, that’s who I was meeting today.”
“Do vampires even drink coffee?” Rourke realized he was still sitting up on the bench, that at least ten minutes had ticked by, and he’d not yet even assumed the milking position. He settled gingerly, pressing his knees into the upholstery as his hooves scraped into place, suddenly feeling his heart beating behind his eyes as he eased his cock and balls through the opening.Yep. You’re definitely gonna have a stroke.
“Like I said,” she went on, “I’m from a human town originally, so I didn’t grow up with other species the way people around here did. I really love it, though; when my lease is up, I’m thinking of maybe trying to find something in the area to eliminate the drive.”
His cock inflated with liquid steel, his shaft growing thick, lengthening as his balls pulled up his body. He still didn’t know what happened, what had caused her reaction at the coffee shop, but as she raised her lubed-up hands to his growing erection, he decided it didn’t need to matter. The thought of her re-locating from Bridgeton to Cambric Creek, right there in the neighborhood, bringing all of his fantasies about showing her around town and fucking her in front of the waterfall to the forefront of his mind, and he jerked against her palm as she gripped him.
“So—an elf and an orc live next door to you?”
You can plan a picnic lunch, something right out of one of those rom-com movies. Show her around the historic district, feed her berries on a blanket, lick her pussy for lunch, and stop at the scoop truck for dessert.
“I’ll bet he would have already had a ring taken out of his nose too. Orcs are super tough, right?”
He huffed in outrage, the sound being cut off by a groan as she dragged her hands down the length of his shaft, slicking him with the oil. “I’m not so sure about that. They put rings on their tusks; that’s like piercing a fingernail. Besides, he’s the sort that probably spends two hours every morning primping in front of the mirror; one ring wouldn’t be enough.” His eyes fluttered closed, the whole world narrowing to the tips of her fingers once again. “I grew up on the edge of a human town,” he said hesitantly, feeling as though he needed to repay her confidence with one of his own.
She seemed slightly self-conscious, being a human in this place, and he supposed he didn’t blame her. “My grandmother was human, so it never felt like an awkward thing. No vampire restaurants there either.”
Sharing with her work. She questioned his route firmly as she stroked the back of his shaft, the circle of her hands breaking to cup his balls. He grunted as she pulled them, his hooves scraping against the footrest.
“Is that too much pressure?” she asked softly, in a tone that told him she knew the pressure was just fine without needing to question it. His cock grew stiffer.
“No, it’s perfect.” Another low groan as she separated his balls in his sac, kneading each one. He wondered if she would be able to fit one in her mouth, deciding it was unlikely unless she had naga blood and an unhinging jaw.Still, she can suck on them a bit.
“Does that feel good?”
His cock began to drool at the question. She was still massaging his balls, and she knew damn well he thought it felt good.That’s why she does it every week, to make you feel good. This has nothing to do with making you come.
“It feels amazing,” he confirmed, his eyes rolling back as she gave each plump testicle another squeeze before releasing them to return her attention to his neglected cock. It wasn’t too late to fix things. It wasn’t too late to get this project back on track and deliver results on time and on target.You’ve never lost a big sale yet, and you’re not going to start today.Although, you might wind up with whiplash with the way things are going. “So, the ring out and a vampire restaurant. We’ll have to see what we can do about that.”
***
The Tuesday afternoon receptionist was not the same as the normal Friday receptionist, and he breathed a small sigh of relief when he checked in that afternoon. Those days of coming to the farm twice a week were long behind him, and he didn’t want to be recognized by more members of the staff than necessary.
Rourke wondered as he paced the upper deck of the milking room if she would be able to tell what he’d gotten up to all weekend. After all, it wasn’t a problem most humans would ever be able to understand. His libido was nothing like humans; that was the whole point of the milking facility structure. Once his fire was lit, a single extinguishing didn’t cut it, and his cock had been hard and aching since Friday afternoon.
She had done the trick with her hands again after massaging his balls, until his spine felt loose and disconnected in his body. A snug hand around the base of his shaft and another base of his head, her grip firm but her fingers loose enough to allow him to move. He’d fucked her hands, the most intimacy they could manage with the milking bench between them, the closest thing he had to fucking her.
He wasn’t sure why it was so much different than her stroking him. Perhaps it was because the stroking was part of the job, an action employed to deliver an outcome. It didn’t make a difference who was underneath the milking table; if they stroked his cock long enough, he would come. But this . . . This forced him to be an active participant. It was not something that was being done to him; it was something they were doingtogether. He’d thrust into the tight ring of her fingers until she’d teased his tip with the sucking mouth of the nozzle, exploding when she worked it down his shaft last. She’d milked his balls through his orgasm, squeezing out every last drop, and he wondered if she watched the machine filling with his cum, if she watched each white rope that spattered against the glass dome.
Even though he had left deflated, the thought of her doing so had him hard again an hour or so later. When he stroked himself to completion that evening, his semen pooling in the stoppered bathroom sink, he thought about it again. He wondered how heavy the milk bottles were in her hands, wondered if she thought of him coming for her every time she made a trip down the dairy aisle at the grocery store. He woke that night, needing to masturbate again, after painfully rolling over on the rigid rod of his erection. He found a video of a bull with his coloring, grunting on his back as a dark-haired girl straddled his hips.
Does that feel good?
He imagined her asking the question as she rode him, reaching back to squeeze his balls as she bounced on his cock.Does that feel good?Or maybe down on her knees, sucking the seam of his sac, rubbing into his prostate with her knuckles.Does that feel good?
The following morning, he dug through his closet, the search taking into the garage, finally locating the sleeve mount he had purchased while still living in the city. The textured masturbation sleeve was a poor stand-in for her tight little hands, and it didn’t come with the benefit of her breathy commentary, but his kitchen table was a perfect height for attaching it, pouring lube into the mouth of the sleeve and pushing his cockhead into the silicone with a moan.Does that feel good?
Nothing drained him as effectively as the milking machine, he was forced to admit. He’d masturbated throughout the weekend, putting the mounted sleeve to use, but it had barely taken the edge off. His balls were going to form a blockage, semen backing up, clogging his internal pipes the way they had the power to clog pipes in his house without the proper steps taken. That’s how he would die, Rourke thought. In bed with a hard-on, choking on the taste of his own cum at the back of his tongue. He’d made an appointment request to her for Tuesday afternoon, hoping she wouldn’t be able to tell he had been humping his kitchen table for the past three days.
“We have a trainee joining us today.”
Her customer service voice again was high and cheerful, but rather than it causing him instant distress, Rourke took note of the human that shuffled into the room behind Violet, sullen-looking, even with the mask and head covering.See? It wasn’t just your imagination. You were able to tell she was beautiful from that first day.
“Well, I’m doing it. I have an appointment for this weekend. I’m taking the plunge.” At some point in the previous seventy-two hours, he had been clear-headed enough to make an appointment with the troll who owned the tattoo and piercing studio, deciding the time had come, and there was no time like the present to make changes for his future.
“You’re finally going to cut that scruffy hair?”
