Read Milk for the Billionaire (billionaire domination and lactation erotica) Online
Authors: Francis Ashe
Tags: #older man younger woman, #alpha male, #power play, #lactation, #lactation fetish, #lactation erotica, #sex at the office, #billionaire sex, #secretary sex, #billionaire domination, #milk filled tits, #personality domination, #alpha billionaire
Milk for her Billionaire (an erotic domination and
lactation fantasy)
By Francis Ashe
Copyright 2012
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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of this author.
***
“Sandy, could you come in here for a minute?
I need to ask you something. Thanks.”
Her boss’s voice was leathery, rugged and
warm, but Sandy Jackson’s hand trembled a little as she put her
finger to the ivory-colored intercom button with “Mr. Madisen”
printed underneath.
“Yes sir, right away,” she said, flattened
her skirt and checked for spotting on the front of her blouse.
Disappointed to find the vaguest hint of a milk mark, she shrugged
into her blazer and checked her hair. For all the intimidation and
power that Mr. Madisen had, he was also absolutely gorgeous, and he
always seemed to look at Sandy with a bit of a naughty glint in his
eye which she had to admit turned her on just a little.
Sandy, recently divorced mommy of a chubby,
funny three-month old, sat at the desk in front of Michael
Madisen’s glass-doored office, staring into the mirror of her
compact and wondering when she would be able to go back to wearing
a normal bra.
Maternity leave was both a blessing and a
curse for Sandy, since she got to stay home with little Adie for
three full months, but at the same time, she was worried for most
of that time whether or not she’d be shifted around to a new place
in the company when it was time to go back to work. She liked her
job. The pay was pretty good, but the main thing she loved about it
was how easy it was – most times, no one even came to the front
desk at all, and when they did, it was to ask directions to some
meeting room or office.
As it happened, she was not only moved, but
given a promotion. She had no clue what she had done to get it, but
the fifty percent pay raise, along with a spot on the mostly
deserted fifth floor were not things she questioned. In fact, the
only other person she saw most times was Mr. Madisen, so she had
lots of free time to do pretty much whatever she wanted. The
problem with that, though, is that she felt like her career was at
a standstill, just kind of idling. Even with the huge pay raise,
she was not actually
doing
anything. She worried that when
the time came to move on, her skills like “looking through
magazines” and “playing solitaire” would not get her very far.
“Okay Sandy, what are you so upset over?” She
asked herself. “He’s a nice enough guy. Just go see what he wants.
Probably the current edition of that investment journal he thumbs
through and pretends to read.”
She stood, stretched her back which had
started aching for the first time in her life when her formerly
petite breasts became engorged with milk for Adie. Rubbing her
lower spine, Sandy twisted back and forth twice, checked to make
sure she had not lactated through her blazer somehow, and willed
herself to Mr. Madisen’s door. Halfway there, she realized that she
had been his personal assistant for going on two weeks, and had yet
to actually see his office. Dismissing the thought, she took a deep
breath and entered.
Inside, the room was more sparsely decorated
than she had imagined. One painting that resembled a Jackson
Pollock and two statues of tall birds represented the only
decor.
“Sandy, hey,” Mr. Madisen began, “I wanted to
explain the arrangement a little more. I know you’ve been sort of
thrown into the deep end since you came back, and - oh, would you
like to take off that jacket? Here, let me take it for you. Get
comfortable, we have a lot to go over.”
“No. I mean, uh, no thank you, Mr. Madisen,”
Sandy stammered, clutching her blazer a little tighter than was
probably necessary.
“Is something the matter? I hope I haven’t
upset you somehow. Here, let me take that for you.” He reached out,
his hand brushing against Sandy’s face, and eased her hand off the
lapel of her jacket. “Relax - I’m not going to bite. Anyway, it
makes me nervous when people are more dressed up than I am.” He
tugged one shoulder down, and Sandy shifted in her seat to oblige
him.
Jesus I hope he doesn’t notice these
spots
, she thought,
I’ll just say – oh Hell, he’s not an
idiot. Anything I say, he’ll know I’m making up. Maybe this is all
a bigger deal than I think. I mean, I did just have a baby and
all.
As Mr. Madisen turned to hang her blazer, the
form fitting, open-collared dress shirt he wore showed the
musculature of his back, neck and upper arms. Sandy realized then
he was a
lot
more attractive than she thought. And, he was
just her type, too, with his powerful biceps, dark hair and those
smoldering emerald eyes.
When he faced her again, those emeralds
fixated directly on the spots growing on the front of her
blouse.
“I’m so embarrassed, Mr. Madisen, please let
me have my jacket back. I don’t want you to have to see this.” She
pleaded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No. Well,” he exhaled heavily, “I may as
well be honest. This is why I called you back here.” His eyes
ravished her, and in spite of herself Sandy felt sexy,
really
sexy
, for the first time in months.
“I see you every morning when I come in,
those big, gorgeous tits barely contained by whatever you’re
wearing.” He watched her, searched her face for a moment and then
let his eyes return to devouring her body.
Almost unconsciously, she let her arms
relax.
“Good,” he said, moving closer to where she
stood, “very good.”
Sandy’s jaw dropped open just a smidge when
Mr. Madisen unbuttoned the first of eight tiny buttons running down
the front of her shirt and stroked the skin underneath with the
back of his hand. His attention was fully on her milk-filled
breasts, which she just noticed had begun to ache. She glanced over
at the art-deco-looking clock on the wall behind his desk.
Oh my God,
she thought,
I haven’t
pumped in over three hours. No wonder
. She had a breast pump in
her desk that she used every so often to keep her baby supplied and
to keep her tits from getting too sore, but somehow, she had
forgotten. She glanced at Mr. Madisen as he slipped her third
button through its loop and put his hand on the skin above the
upper trim of her bra.
He deftly undid the rest of them, pulled her
shirt tail out of the skirt she was wearing, and let it billow out
to her sides. Mr. Madisen slid his hands around her waist, raising
little prickles on her skin where he touched. Slowly, almost like
he was testing the waters, he moved them up her sides until he
touched near her underarms.
“Nothing in the world,” he began with sort of
glassy eyes and a whispering voice, “nothing in the world is more
beautiful than a woman with big, round, milk-filled tits.”
His hands moved to the front of her bra,
fingers dancing in a little circle, and Sandy let out a soft moan
as he approached her stiffening, sore-from-suckling nipple that
pressed, hard, against the covering fabric.
“Mr. Madisen, I - I just don’t know about
this, I mean...”
He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers.
Softly at first with three fluttering kisses, and then a longer,
deeper, sucking kiss pulled her voluptuous bottom lip between his
teeth. She sighed again, a satisfied, content sigh, as this
gorgeous billionaire cupped her breast in his hand and gave her a
squeeze, causing more of her mother’s milk to drip. He explored her
lip with his tongue, searching each tiny crevice before he took
advantage of her moaning to slide it in against hers. His hand,
rasping against her bra, squeezed again, releasing another drop and
causing her to yelp lightly with a mix of pleasure, pain and just a
little raw sexual urgency.
She wrestled his tongue back into his mouth
and then let him invade her again. Somehow, the wantonness, the
ferocity of his actions made her entire body want to be taken by
him, ravished by this depraved billionaire. Sandy arched her back,
so often sore from the weight on her chest, but now seemingly free,
liberated from pain by how monstrously, terribly horny Mr. Madisen
had made her. She felt the lips of her slit move against one
another when she shifted position and realized that for the first
time in far too long, she was getting wet because of a man rather
than a five minute vibrator session.
No way is this happening right now
,
she thought in between desperate, deep kisses,
no way this is
happening
. He gave her another tit squeeze, this one harder
than before. She felt warm milk trickle out of her body and down
her breast before it joined the rest in the spreading pool on her
bra. His tongue plunged deep again when she squealed, and Mr.
Madisen’s other hand went hungrily down her back, massaging her
upper ass and searching for a hook. She felt her skirt ease and
slip a bit when Mr. Madisen found and opened the clasps with a
metallic
clink
.
Without warning, Mr. Madisen gave her another
hard, lusty kiss and then stood back, reclining his body against
his desk.
“Sandy. I want to see you. Show me your
body.” His voice was somehow different than it had been. His tone
was lower, a little more urgent, she thought.
Just as he said, she began to wiggle out of
her skirt.
“No, no, no,” he said in that soft, insistent
voice, “make it sexy. Show me how much you want me. Show me how
much you want me to milk those big, aching tits. You know how badly
you want me to suck you, to slurp it all up, get it all out. Show
me how much you want it.”
This guy actually wants me to strip for
him. Why does he think I’m sexy? Why does he want me anyway?
Sandy wondered to herself, almost afraid that he was just joking
with her, just playing with her emotions. She was afraid that as
soon as she relaxed, Mr. Madisen was just going to start
laughing.
In spite of the nerves and fear, Sandy could
not stop herself. Almost without thinking, her hips started to sway
from side to side. Slow little gyrations at first, as she slid the
zipper.
Doesn’t matter
, she thought,
it just doesn’t
matter. I haven’t felt this good in... I don’t even know how
long.
She had, she realized, wanted Mr. Madisen for quite some
time. But now, there was no simple want anymore. All of Sandy’s
desire, all her burning and all her insecurity began to vanish when
she looked Mr. Madisen in the eyes.
There was no joke behind them, no
cruelty.
He, she realized,
needed
her just as
badly as she did him.
Sandy finished unzipping and let the skirt
slip halfway down her hips, keeping one hand on the waist in the
front to tease Mr. Madisen. She turned, still having trouble
believing that all of this was actually happening, and let the back
of her skirt droop low to give Mr. Madisen an eye full.
I
haven’t done anything like this in a long, long time,
Sandy
thought as she turned to give him a profile view and let the skirt
fall to the floor. One hand covered her sex and the other arm
covering those leaking, aching nipples that Mr. Madisen could not
ignore.
She glanced over at him, and saw his gaze
locked on her moving body, eyes tracking up and down as he took in
the spectacle. He had a subtle grin across his lips and his face
was relaxed and content. He watched her hips, watched her face and
her breasts, hoping for her to take away that arm that blocked his
view.
Sandy slipped a finger between her pussy lips
and felt the tiny, but growing, wet spot between her legs, which
made her blush.
Blushing,
she thought,
me stripping, my
massively rich boss hungrily staring at my tits, and I blush
because I’m a little wet
. She had to crack a grin and let a
little giggle escape, but as soon as she pushed harder with that
finger, and her nipples stiffened against the restraining, almost
painful fabric around them, she involuntarily pulled her bottom lip
between her teeth, a look that caused Mr. Madisen to start plucking
at his buttons.
“I just can’t take anymore,” he said,
breathing harder, “come here. Undress me. I need those tits; I need
to taste, to suck. Get over here.”
A little surprised at his insistence, but
feeling like they were in almost exactly the same place, Sandy
demurely crossed the eight or so feet between them and pressed her
soft, moist lips against his skin where his shirt fell open at the
third button. She undid the fourth, then the fifth, each time
touching his warm, clean-shaven chest with a circle of her tongue
as a prelude to a sucking kiss. When she had him unbuttoned down to
his belt, she slid her hands up his body and pushed the shirt back
to reveal rounded, gorgeous shoulders, and a chest she would have
never believed a man like Mr. Madisen could have. Muscular, tanned
and tight, he was
just
the kind of man she loved to have
underneath her.