Billion Dollar Milkmaid: The Complete Series (5 page)

Suddenly a hand was on her arm and she was being lifted up and away from the man. She opened her eyes to see Mr. King standing before her, a look of barely contained rage on his face.

“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” the man protested.

Mr. King ignored him. He pulled Amy through the tangle of men and women to a door hidden behind a large curtain.

As he dragged her inside the hidden room, Amy couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face. She had been right- Mr. King did have feelings for her. He was clearly jealous.

Amy walked across the room and sat down on the bed. She crossed her legs and waited for Mr. King to speak.

He paced the room before finally coming to a stop in front of her.

She had called his bluff and won. He knew now that she was not the kind of girl to shy away from a challenge.

Amy, however, only had a moment to savor her victory. Without saying a word, Mr. King jumped on top of her, knocking her flat on the bed. He kissed her hard.

All thoughts of their tug-of-war fled her mind as he ripped off her bra and panties. He began kneading her breasts.

It didn’t take long before his lips were secure around her nipple.

Absently, Amy noted that he avoided the breast the grey-haired man had fed from. He obviously didn’t like to share.

He sucked on her nipple harder than he ever had before. Amy arched her back, pulling away from Mr. King.

He pulled on her nipple with his teeth, then released it. A boyish, mischievous grin spread across his face.

Amy petted his head gently and smiled sweetly. He looked at her with what Amy thought was genuine affection. It warmed her heart, but it felt dangerous. Mr. King seemed to scare easily.

She wrapped his hair around her fingers and pulled.

Mr. King looked amused. She pushed his head to her breast smothering his laughter.

He began sucking again.

Amy slid her hand between her legs. She began fingering her clit. She moved her fingers quickly, rubbing her g-spot hard.

Amy writhed underneath Mr. King. Her fingers passed between the folds of her vagina quickly. She longed to feel his cock inside her, but he was fixated on her breasts and the sweet milk inside.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist. He pinned it above her head, preventing her from touching herself. His hands gripped her roughly.

Amy squirmed beneath him, frustrated that she was left out.

Mr. King abruptly released her nipple and lifted his head from her chest. He breathed in deeply as if he had been holding his breath. He ran his tongue over his full lips. They were bright red from the exertion of sucking.

Amy had the sudden urge to taste her breast milk. She pulled Mr. King to her and kissed him deeply. 

Her tongue prodded the inside of his mouth. She could taste herself on his lips. The milk was rich and sweet, full of vitality and life. Her tongue probed deeper, eager to taste the smooth nectar. The taste faded and a new desire overtook her.

Mr. King situated himself between her legs. Amy lay limp she wanted him to have his way with her.

He grabbed her legs and spread them apart. Then, with the quick motion of an experienced lover, Mr. King was inside her.

He loomed tall over her, his back as straight as a cadet.

He fucked her hard. The sound of the headboard crashing into the wall echoed around the room.

Amy clawed at the mattress.

Mr. King slammed into her over and over.

Her full breasts bounced on her chest under the force of his thrusts. He watched, mesmerized as they moved back and forth.

He straightened his back and fucked her faster. His cock glided in and out of her with ease.

The flesh of Amy’s breasts tingled with arousal. She began kneading them as her sore nipples cried out for Mr. King’s touch.

His eyes never strayed from her soft milky flesh as he came inside her.

As he laid beside her his hands drifted over her chest. He longed to drink from her breasts again, but feared she was tapped out.

He leaned into her. Unconsciously, his mouth opened. He longed to feel her soft nipple between his lips. At the last second he pulled away.

“What?” she asked.

Amy felt drowsy as if she’d been slipped a drug. She ran her hands through Mr. King’s hair. It felt like a luxury to simply lay beside him.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

His hand went to his face and he began to rub his jaw. His finger would occasionally pass over his mouth. She had become familiar with the gesture. He often touched his lips when he wanted to feed.

Amy took a deep breath and turned to him. Her hand passed over her neck and moved slowly down between her breasts.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. Her words were barely louder than a whisper.

He watched her eyes closely. He seemed to argue with himself before finally coming to a decision. Wordlessly, he leaned in and took her nipple in his mouth.

In truth, Amy was a little disappointed. She wished they could enjoy some quiet time, just the two of them. But, she had to remind herself, it was not what she was being paid for.

His movements were slow and languorous. He took his time enjoying the sweet milk that flowed slow like honey from her breast.

The pinching sensation was replaced by a soft pressure. It felt like an intimate kiss.

Amy sighed and felt her whole body go slack. She stroked his back as he fed.

Outside she could hear the sound of the partygoers laughing; a girl screamed playfully. She wondered what they were doing out there. What had become of her silver fox?

Her mind wandered to the money she would make for the evening. Perhaps, she thought, she should look up the grey-haired man. He looked like the kind of guy with deep pockets.

When she looked back down Mr. King had finished. He stared up at her, his chin resting on her left breast. He had such an intense look on his face Amy wondered if he had asked her a question.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” She had been lost in thoughts of money and images of wild parties.

He shook his head and rolled off of her. Turning his back to her, he began to dress.

As much as she longed to be with Mr. King, a part of her wanted the attention of the other men as well. She had spent most of her life being treated like a freak because of her condition and now she was the unique position of being desired by men.

Knowing that there were men on the other side of the bedroom door that would treat her like a goddess made her impatient with Mr. King. His mood swings were unpredictable, like that of a spoiled child. As he gave her the cold shoulder she considered abandoning him and rejoining the party. It couldn’t be that hard to find a new benefactor, could it?

She put on her bra and underwear. She was fixing the bra, making sure her cleavage looked deep and inviting when she looked up to find Mr. King watching her.

“You’re unhappy,” he said.

In truth, yes, but she wasn’t paid to be honest about her feelings. “All that matters is that you’re happy.”

“That’s not all that matters,” he muttered. “You’re thinking about going back to the party. You’re probably thinking they’ll take care of you.” He scoffed derisively.

Amy wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “You don’t want me to see those men?”

Mr. King ran his hands through his hair and began pacing the room. “No, I don’t. They won’t treat you right. They’ll throw you away once the novelty wears off.”

The word ‘novelty’ made her stomach drop. “Is that all I am? Just a novelty act, a sideshow?” She rose and began to leave.

“No, wait.” He grabbed her by the arms and turned her around. “Not to me. That’s the point. I want-” He looked away. Amy felt he was on the verge of admitting something, but she wasn’t sure what.

“I’ll pay,” he said, “for exclusivity. Name your price, whatever you want. Three? Four times as much? Fine.”

He abandoned her and began digging through his coat pockets for his checkbook. Amy felt depressed that he had shied away from being honest with his feelings. Instead, he had fallen back on to the safety and control his money brought him.

He furiously scribbled a figure on a check and handed it to her. Amy didn’t look at it. She folded it over twice and stuck it in her bra.

“Whatever you wish Mr. King.”

She felt a heaviness settle in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to get out of the room and away from the house. She needed time to think.

Amy turned to leave, when she heard a scream. It was a sound of rage. Suddenly, the door flew open. Blocking Amy’s exit was Mr. King’s girlfriend.

4

A cool chill shot through Amy’s body. She opened her eyes and sat up with a jolt. The room began to spin around her.

She was laying on a couch, but when she closed her eyes she felt as if she were on a ship being tossed around by the sea.

A masculine arm wrapped around her shoulder, giving her strength. He held her steady as she pitched from side to side.

“There, are you alright?”

The voice echoed inside her skull. She put a hand to her head as a sharp pain shot through her jaw and neck.

Amy closed her eyes tight. Nausea and vertigo threatened to overtake her. She breathed in slowly, held her breath, then exhaled.

When she opened her eyes she realized she was in the room where all the gentlemen had been drinking and talking. Hours, or minutes before, (Amy wasn’t sure how much time had passed) the room had been full of half-naked women.

They worked the men, soliciting them for money in exchange for sex, specifically breastfeeding.

At first Amy had found it odd, but after her experiences with Mr. King she’d come to find it exhilarating and deliciously taboo.

“You should lay back down. You may have a concussion.”

The man gently eased her back down onto the couch. Amy was surprised to see that it was the silver-haired, older man from earlier that night.

He leaned over her and brushed her hair out of her eyes. He looked handsome hovering above her. He had a nice well-defined jaw and soulful blue eyes. Amy smiled up at him.

“Are you feeling better, sweetheart?”

Amy tried to nod, but the pain returned.

“Take it easy.”

He took her hand and petted it gently. They looked remarkably youthful and well-manicured. Amy wondered how old he was. The grey hair made him look like he was in his late fifties, but he could have been younger.

She rubbed her brow. Why was she worrying about how old this man was? And where was Mr. King?

The last thing she remembered before blacking out was his girlfriend’s insane scream as she hit Amy with a blunt object. The whole situation made Amy’s headache return. She needed to talk to Mr. King.

Amy tried to relax. A heavy coat rested over. She pulled it around her snugly before realizing that it belonged to Mr. King. Where was he?