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Milkmaid Mom-To-Be

I was out on the back patio doing a charcoal and pastel study of the three roses I had just picked from the garden. There was a velvety deep red one, a glowing yellow, and a rich peach. They looked amazing in the blue and white Chinese vase I had gotten for Marg a couple of years before she passed away. So the picture was sort of a tribute to her. She had also planted the roses. But it also honored Andie, my young tenant, who was so talented at bringing the roses to luscious full bloom. Perhaps it also honored the daughter Andie was due to have any day now right here in the garden in my classic barrel hot tub.

I had also chronicled Andie’s pregnancy with my art. On rust colored paper, now on her kitchen wall In the cute ADU I rent to her and Dan; there is a portrait of her lovely face, her ripe, pregnant cheeks glowing, There are also more ‘discreet’ pictures of her in the nude, in my ‘Andie folder’, revealing her changing body at various stages of her pregnancy. And here she comes for one last one before she gives birth.

“Are you ready for the big day?” She is swaying across the lawn in a loose floral maroon housedress that buttons up the front. From what I can tell she is not wearing anything else.

“Everything else is ready, but I’m not. The hot tub is full of sterile water. The doula is coming round this evening to check me out. Her ‘kit’ with all the birthing stuff is there in the pantry. My O.B is on alert.” Heavily, Andie settles next to me on the bamboo and canvas outdoor couch. “Dan should be back from his driving run in a couple of hours. Little Ethan is happy at Dan’s mom’s. My mom is showing up about the time Dan does, bringing food, bless her.”

I hand her a tall glass of lemonade.

“I’d offer you a beer. If it’s like you say, the kid will be out here with us before any of it could get through to mess her up.”

“This’ll be fine unless I change my mind.”

Impishly, she pulls her dress up her thighs and spreads them just a bit.

“And I treated myself to a mani-pedi and a special ‘Brazilian’ to get my little lady to open up for my new daughter.”

“Amanda?”

“Amanda. So. Everything is ready except me.”

“Wait, isn’t it a little late to be having second thoughts about having this baby? And you said you weren’t really scared of the mess and the pain….”

“Yeah, well, you know I lied about that. But, actually, Ethan was such an easy birth; I’m hoping to flup this one out pretty much the same. And the warm water and all the loving people should help….”

“But…?”

“I’m not ready more like I am so ready and yet my body just doesn’t want to give the baby up yet. No spotting…sorry…TMI…no Braxton-Hicks, no false labor, nothing. Like I’m just going to be this little beluga forever. So. I so need to kick the engine into life and get this thing started. Could we…?”

Her legs were stretched out in front of her, one elbow on the shaped bamboo arm of the couch, the other on her belly, generous thighs still uncovered….

“I was going to do one last portrait of you before Amanda is born. Maybe something for you and Dan to remember this moment…?”

She was pensive. “Mr. B, I can trust you, right? Because you have helped me with the milk thing, and done these very personal portraits and…other stuff…we can say we have an understanding, yes?”

I nodded. Where exactly was she going with this?

“We have some of your pretty pictures of me pregnant. We love them. They’re beautiful and artistic…lovely. But…” She started unbuttoning the dress. “I definitely want a picture; but I want something different. I’m feeling sort of crazy today. Something not so much about me being the sweet mom-to-be and more…this. How I’m feeling, and how I look…right now.”

The housedress was open. Nothing underneath. And Andie didn’t demurely cross her legs. She leaned back, spread apart, hands squeezing her swollen breasts.

“This is me. This is me right now. And I want you to see…look at…closely…and draw…paint…all of me…whatever… like this.” Her hands framed her swollen vulva. This. Just like it is. Not prettified. Raw. Open. Red. Wet. That’s the way it feels all the time now. Soon I will push my daughter out of it and return to something…what? escort bursa More genteel? But right now this is me. Can you capture this? It would be amazing if you could. And these too. Look at these puppies! They are wonderfully gross. Gross. Yeah. Perfect word. Look at these oh so dark nipples and the dark purple cones around them. So swollen. And these purple veins, like little rivers all over them. And they leak with this stuff…I call it ‘almost milk’. They are just so messy and leaky…and sensitive! Oh. Em Gee. I touch them like this and, I swear, sometimes the baby jumps. And my poor open pussy just squeezes. Actually aches.”

I was happy to admire this amazing ripeness. And I got busy preparing my paper and pastels, choosing tans and purples and pinks and even oranges to try to match the ripe colors I was seeing. Andie’s vulva was incredible…this deep scarlet, with pink and purple tones, and so moist. How would I capture that?

She was happy to sit like that for me, kind of quiet. And I just focused on the painting. I wanted to get, not just what she looked like, but also her mood, her state of being, because this person I was seeing in front of me, so fierce, so exposed was someone different from the cute bouncy gal I had seen around my yard. Her hair was thick and mussed. Her eyes were big, wet and hungry. Her lips and even her nostrils were swollen with the ripeness of her pregnancy. And all her skin had this thick creamy quality.

She was breathing funny.

“What is it? Are you having a contraction?”

“No, damn it. But I want to, soon. And…and I need you to work fast because I want to go into labor soon…soon. In fact, right now, I’m going to do the first thing that could kick it off. You can keep drawing…but with this hand I’m going to play with my nipple until I can really feel it down there. Because it does that. I can kind of feel my womb squeeze out. Yeah…oh yeah that’s good. And with this hand I’m going to start to play with myself. Oh god! My clit is so sensitive! See how I can just swipe a little down here and my fingertips are now all slippery. And now…now if I rub…oh lord…that’s…oh shit…I can feel that so deep. Oh there…the baby moved and my puss…oh…oh…this is so good…okay, now the baby can wait…I’m sorry, maybe I’m moving too much for you to paint….”

“That’s okay, I’ve got what I need and I can finish it later. I’d ask to take some ‘reference photos’, but…maybe not….”

“Not…I think.”

She wasn’t really listening to what I was saying. She was getting too busy. And, frankly, I wasn’t really in much condition to draw or paint well. My hand was shaking. My balls were aching. For a while I just sat back and watched this new Andie beast pleasure herself. At first, her fingers were just dancing on her clit…all over her vulva, really…tweaking this and pinching that…dipping in for a quick finger stir…twisting her nipple with her honey-anointed fingertips. Sometimes she had her teeth clenched…sometimes her mouth was open and loose, almost dripping and often she caught my eyes with this hungry stare. After a while she stopped, panting…her shiny fingers resting on her heaving belly.

“Nope…I thought I could get it that way, but…I’m getting little squeezes, but those big ones I know will start moving Amanda out. I thought I might…might need your help and yup….”

“What can I do…?”

“Just…just come sit next to me and ‘do that thing you do’ so well. Her voice was small and sweet. Maybe I should have objected; made my excuses; but of course I knew this was coming…. “I took my proper position next to her. Intoxicating. This young woman so ripe with life.

“Suck on this one first. When I pinch her I can feel it deep…in there, so….”

I was happy to oblige, even though the position was a little awkward. I did have to rest my head on her swollen belly. A bit strange. With my ear I could feel the baby move. But duty is duty and I took that huge dark nipple and all the areola into my mouth and began to suck with the familiar rhythm. Immediately, Andie groaned and her hips flexed with the feeling. Little crying sounds repeating over and over.

“Oh yes…so nice so nice so nice so nice. Oh…just….just like that.”

Almost görükle escort quiet…more small moans from deep within. Two fingers were tucked between her legs.

“The other one…the other one now.” I scrambled to the other side of her and pulled the free nipple between my lips and possessed it with my tongue. A small taste of thick sweet cream. Another moan as more came into my mouth. Andie was squeezing that breast, encouraging it.

“Uh…uh…uh…uh…uh. Yes!. I can feel it make my….womb want to squeeze…oh yes…please just keep it…uh…uh…uh…uh…uh.”

Her hips were beginning to get into it, her thighs quivering as she pushed. I was worried.

“Andie, Andie, should you really….”

“Oh hush! Yes! Yes I should, and that’s so…exactly what I need…but…but…I need…more. My little fingers. I need…I need…IN. Could you…I know it’s…but…please….”

She reached for my hand that was resting on her thick thigh and pulled it over onto her belly. Pushed it down where she was swollen and so wet.

“Please…your strong fingers! Put them…put them IN now. You know…just…push…or pull…you know…please.”

She had that sweet hungry look I could not resist, her eyes all wet, her brows wrinkled in a kind of soft pain, her lower lip pouting.

It was so easy. Like pushing my fingertips into a thick, soft, wet mango or papaya…the flesh parting as I pushed in, but hot and thick around them…her hips rolling to catch more feeling.

I turned my fingertips up and dug in, stirring, pushing against the wonderful meaty flesh. It yielded. It pushed back. It was red and musky and so ripe.

Andie was lost in the feeling, especially as I let the meat of my thumb press firmly on the tight column of her clit, scrubbing it back and forth. It was so swollen, so needy. Andie was riding my hand, groaning and growling. Her face was a sight, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip in her teeth, nostrils wet and flaring. My hand was getting soaked.

A sudden squeak and a jet of water bathed my wrist. And again. And again.

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry…I just can’t help. Sorry. Oh sorry!”

I knew the flagstones of the patio didn’t care. But I kept churning her, my mouth tight on her breast, my tongue coaxing new little doses of colostrum into my mouth. They seemed to come when she came, many mini shocks, and she was breathing hard, one hand squeezing her free breast, the other clamped on top of the one I had buried in her.

“Nnnnnnggghhh!”

One big orgasm…body shaking…and she pulled my hand away from her throbbing vulva.

“Too much…too much…too sensitive….let me….”

She lay back, panting, feeling the orgasm wash out of her; but in a moment she was shaking her head.

“Nuh…nah…that was great but…it didn’t quite get it. All that wet was not my water breaking, just super garden variety, literally, squirt. But thank you…thank you….” She pulled my mouth to her swollen lips for a very nice kiss of gratitude. “Whoof! Suddenly I’m so thirsty. Where is that lemonade?”

She sat, drinking it down, breathing deeply. She shook her head.

“Damn. Maybe I have to let the doula induce me. But I hate the idea. Oh, I’m not a nut about ‘everything natural,’ but I don’t like the idea of chemicals…. What time is it? Well, Maybe half an hour…. We could try a couple of other things…that is…if you would be willing…?”

I know I gave her a stupid grin.

“In for a penny…in for a pound….”

She grinned back…even winked.

“It’s that ‘pound’ I’m thinking might make the difference…. But maybe first…if those ‘old’ knees of yours can handle it…sorry…you are far from old…but maybe we can try…though you just might end up ‘washing your face.’ She winked again.

I got the idea and dropped a cushion between her spread legs. Positioned myself where I could seriously go to work. Whoa. Now I was truly ‘up close and personal’ with her most intimate parts. Red. Really a deep scarlet all around the outer lips melding toward a shiny coral-pink within. She was open, just naturally yawning with the readiness to push a baby into the world. And her clit was out and big and impudent.

I knew what she wanted, and what she didn’t. She didn’t need me to be a gentle lover ‘appreciating’ her creamy thighs and teasing my way closer and closer to her tender bits. They were already shouting for attention. And I had a job to do. Get that womb squeezing. So maybe I didn’t have to be too gentle, careful not to touch the sensitive bead too straight on. Time to go for it.

I reached up and wrapped a hot palm around each swollen teat and lowered my head. Now my skill as a sucker could come in handy in another ‘theater.’ Tongue swipe up the luscious groove. Lips surround the pearl and pull it in.

Andie made a sound that was inhuman, and her hands clamped around my ears. Her hips did a dance that was closer and farther and closer, more, less, more. And then just more as my tongue swathed the bead. She was so hungry to be eaten…and I devoured.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” No words after that, just noise, maybe one of the most ancient sounds in the world, shared by humans and beasts alike. A female lifting off into ecstasy, again and again. I didn’t give her much respite. Backed off just a touch after a big O, letting her clit cool in the night air; but squeezing her puppies until my fingers were sticky with her ‘almost milk’; tweaking those lovelies until I could see her vulva ‘ask’ again. And then it was back to my feast.

Andie’s face was red, her mouth wide, in an imitation of how she would look as she ‘invented’ her daughter.

But not.

After the third orgasm, and another long rippling one that shook out of her for quite a while, she put her hand on my forehead.

“This is great, but this is not getting it. Please. Let’s just do the last thing and then, if that doesn’t convince Mother Nature to help me out, we let my body just do what it does.”

“How…?”

“I think I’ll turn over and put my hands on the sofa, and you can just plain ‘do the dog’ behind me. Does that work?”

“It’s your party….”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t really be too much work. What would be the fun in that? So….”

She got up, just a little shaky, and turned around, chucking the dressing gown on the loveseat. Now there was this wonderful curve of ivory back in front of me, culminating in two of the most wonderful round ‘cakes’ I have ever seen. She was young and flexible. Even with her great belly, she tilted up her haunches like a cat in heat. Red ripe fruit peeking.

“Please. Now. Hard and fast.”

I didn’t need extra prompting. I was as hard and thick as I’ve ever been. It was easy to jam it into her.

“YES!!!”

Her hips surged back against me and I didn’t have to do all the work. She was flexing those strong thighs so they drove her ass back against me. And I could grab her by those gorgeous hips and drive as deep as I needed to go.

And that’s what she wanted.

“Oh, yes! OH YES! Get it deep! Please, get it so deeeeeeeep!” Again, all animal noises, and the wet ocean waves of our vigorous fucking. I confess I lost my head, just driving into her to satisfy my own deep lust. I was close. Closer. Aaaaaand….

Andie gave a high squeal. Just as my balls emptied into her I felt a gush of warm salty water wash around my cock.

“Oh yes! OH yes! Oh…finally…YES!”

We shuddered against each other as the warm liquid ran down both our legs. I found myself panting like an old dog, leaning on Andie’s back, both of her thick breasts leaking into my grateful hands with what would soon be food for the new life.

*****

“Honey, where are you? You weren’t answering your cell.”

An attractive woman in her late middle years came round the corner of the house just after I emerged from cleaning up. Andie had put her housedress on again and was curled up on the end of the outdoor loveseat texting with Dan.

“Mommy! I love that you came to help me have this baby. Sorry, I won’t get up because…oof…labor has already started. Water broke, so it won’t be long now. Dan’s about half an hour out and the doula should be right behind you. You know Mr. B. Sweet of him to put you up.

Andie had her mother’s eyes; not the sweet little crow’s feet, but the soulful ‘bedroom eyes’ that can melt a mate.

“Alicia, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. And you’re Zach, isn’t it?”

“Got it in one. Let me show you to your temporary ‘digs’. Please pardon the somewhat ‘bachelor pad’ feel to the place. I’m not quite as tidy as my late wife was, though I try, especially if I have guests.”

She took my hand and I felt a little ‘buzz’ of something like ‘recognition’. Hmm.

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