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Daddy's Milk

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Slowly, Daddy pulled His lips from mine, but I hungered for more. I felt so ashamed of how I was feeling, and how warm my body had gotten from just a simple kiss from Him. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell Daddy that it wasn’t the other boys making me cry now, that it was Him. I wanted Him to be like that Daddy I knew He was, and not this monster taking advantage of me. But I kept silent. A thought occurred to me at that moment; maybe if I was good, then He would stop. Naïve of me to think of it now, but at that moment, it made sense. He fingers me, rubbing my clit, turning me into a squirming little mess. I’m glad to have found such a wonderful, lewd partner so early in my life. I’d never expected said partner to be my father, but who cares? Nobody else knows. I’d also never expected to have children so early on, but that’s great, too. I’ll get to see them grow up, but still be fairly young myself! I’ll be able to keep up with them for ages, too. Maybe they’ll want an older guy to breed them, too… I can’t imagine being a grandma! Whether your dad actually went out for milk or not, these jokes will have you laughing until you cry (or until your own milk runs dry). Honestly, he’s almost as fascinated with the whole process as I am. I love growing a new life in my belly, feeling myself grow and change. I particularly appreciate what it’s done for my breasts. They’re so much bigger, now. I wonder how they’ll be after I pop out a few more kids for Daddy? I’ll be a big breeding cow, just for him. I hope it won’t get too difficult for us to have wild, babymaking sex once our kids get older.

One astronaut says to another. I can’t find any milk for my coffee. The other astronaut replies “In space no one can. Here, use cream”. If you've ever breastfed, you know that just thinking about nursing can, well, have certain consequences. My breasts were flooding with milk. I had no control over it, and when I looked down, there was a damp spot on my chest. At the time I wasn't interested in having him -- or anyone, for that matter -- as a companion. I was an unseasoned single mom who was trying to get over her ex. I was still trying to get a handle on raising my daughter solo. I wasn't ready for a relationship. But I did crave sex. And I was curious. I wanted to know what it felt like to have a man drink my milk. The world’s most explicit erotica writer Layla Marie proudly presents "Give Daddy Milk" – Incredibly hot erotica short stories!

As in date? They had to be kidding. Not only was I a 29-year-old single mom with dishes in the sink and baby clothes with stains I'd never actually scrub out, but I breastfed "on demand." How in the world could I even think about hooking up with some hot man when my cha-chas were making milk? After all, laughter is a universal language, much like the universal love for a refreshing glass of milk.

This was a time when I believed that love would overcome anything. Well, it certainly overcame me. The very first thing I did, even before crying, was to sit down on the living room rug and nurse my daughter, M. Nursing was my landing pad. It was the place where my milk could turn my anger into white, warm calmness. Nursing had the same soothing effect on my baby, no matter how hungry, agitated, red-faced and cranky she was at the start. Nothing beat nursing.Have you heard about the movie that involved haunted dairy items? I believe it is called Paranormal Activia. Afterwards, when I told a couple of friends what had happened, they scrunched their noses up. "You let him do what?” You deserve the hottest erotica and you're getting the hottest erotica when you get "Give Daddy Milk".

Why was the farmer good at math? He knew how to add and multiply, but most importantly, he knew how to divide the milk. Why was the farmer always quiet when milking? Because it’s hard to talk when you’re udder concentration.Summer break is always fun. I sit on the couch in the living room, breastfeeding Daddy’s eldest daughter. Well, his eldest daughter other than me. ‘Hey, slow down there… don’t drink too much.’ Daddy pulled my face towards His, and kissed me. It wasn’t a soft, fatherly kiss. It was hungry, lustful, and primal. He forced my mouth open to receive His tongue. I wanted to fight Him, but my body responded to His touch. The moment His tongue touched mine, I melted in His arms. Daddy took His hand away from under my chin, and wrapped it around my waist. He held me steady as His tongue darted in and out of my mouth, slowly twisting and dancing with my tongue. This was wrong, and I knew it in my mind. My Daddy had raped me, and stole my virginity, and He was going to defile me again tonight! But for whatever reason, all common sense left me as His tongue ravaged my mouth. I stood there as limp as a raggedy doll, only being held up by His good arm. The following Friday, after enlisting another girlfriend to baby-sit, I dashed out the door to meet the lawyer at a bar. When I got inside, he waved. I didn't see the cuteness -- he had a receding hairline -- but maybe I was too nervous.

I started a company selling land mines that look like prayer mats. Prophets are going through the roof. Horror Writing | Screenplay Writing | How To Write | Write Books | Read Write | Writing Tips | Writing Tools | Writing Community Same, baby girl. I can’t wait, either. I wonder if it’ll be a boy… or if I’ll have four daughters, now?’The milk was playing hide and seek, but I found it hiding in the fridge, it couldn’t handle the suspense.

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