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I’d lost the bet, and now it was time to face the music. She was going to *milk* me, she said, her voice carrying a mischievous lilt, like it was some private joke only she understood. The whole idea sounded absurd, almost dreamlike. How do you even milk a guy? It wasn’t something I’d ever pictured, especially not for someone like me—someone who’s usually pretty confident, though never cocky. But there I was, stark naked, on all fours atop a wooden table in her softly lit apartment, the cool surface pressing into my palms and knees. Exposed, vulnerable, and, if I’m honest, a little turned on by the sheer ridiculousness of it all.
She moved closer, her steps calm and deliberate, like she was setting the stage for something special. With a faint clink, she slid a wide, shallow ceramic bowl beneath me, its smooth surface catching the dim light. “To catch every drop of your milk,” she murmured, her tone playful enough to make my cheeks flush. Her eyes drifted to my crotch, and I felt my cock stir, despite the embarrassment burning inside me. It wasn’t just big—it was *huge*, a thick, heavy length that always drew stares, even when soft. Now, under her gaze, it was starting to harden, twitching slightly against my thigh.
She reached out, her small fingers struggling to wrap around the base of my shaft. “Wow,” she breathed, a hint of awe in her voice, as she began to stroke me, her touch slow and gentle, like she was handling something precious. The way she moved, firm yet tender, felt exactly like milking—a steady, rhythmic pull that seemed designed to draw out everything I had. My cock swelled quickly, growing into a thick, throbbing column, its veins standing out under the skin. I could feel its weight, the tension in every inch, as she kept going, making my body respond in ways I couldn’t control.
“It’s incredible,” she said, her voice warm with admiration as she traced her fingers along my length, lingering on the glistening tip already slick with precum. Then she cupped my balls, full and heavy, feeling their weight with a smile. “They’re so loaded… You’re gonna give me a lot of milk, aren’t you?”
“Please, just get it over with,” I mumbled, my voice shaky with a mix of shame and desire. I wanted it to end, but at the same time, every stroke of her hand made my body crave more. My cock was already leaking, a shiny thread dripping into the bowl below, and the feel of her hands was too good to ignore.
She didn’t answer, just leaned in and kissed my balls softly, her warm, wet mouth enveloping them with care. A shiver of pleasure shot through me, making my cock twitch, another thick drop falling into the bowl. Her fingers, now slick with my own fluids, glided over my shaft, exploring every detail with a slowness that drove me wild. Then, out of nowhere, her tongue moved higher, licking my ass with a boldness that caught me off guard. It was gentle but confident, her movements wet and audible, warm saliva trailing down my skin. The tip of her tongue teased my entrance, pressing just enough to make me tremble, while her hand kept stroking my cock, using the precum to massage the swollen, sensitive head.
I couldn’t see her, and that made every sensation more intense, like I was completely at her mercy. Her touches were unpredictable: one moment, she’d kiss my skin with a tenderness that made me sigh; the next, she’d nibble or lick with more fervor, keeping me on edge. My cock was fully erect now, so big her hand could barely encircle it, pulsing with an urgency I couldn’t ignore. She kept stroking, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she wanted to savor every second of this strange, intimate moment. This wasn’t just about the bet anymore—she was enjoying having me like this, open and surrendered to her will.
She paused for a moment, just to look at me. “God, it’s so big,” she said, her eyes bright with fascination. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She wasn’t exaggerating: my cock was massive, its girth challenging her grip, the head swollen and shiny with precum that kept dripping steadily. I could feel it throbbing, full of blood, aching for release but held back by her slow, teasing pace.
Suddenly, she slipped a finger inside me, probing until she found my prostate. The sensation was like a bolt of lightning, a deep, pulsing pleasure that made me gasp but stopped short of climax. My cock jerked, more fluid splattering into the bowl. “Please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “I need to cum.”
She added a second finger, massaging my prostate with slow, precise strokes. Each touch sent waves of pleasure through me, making my cock swell even more, its size almost overwhelming. Her other hand sped up, stroking me with more intensity, like she was coaxing everything out of me. My balls tightened, heavy and aching, ready to burst. Precum poured into the bowl, forming a glistening pool, while she kissed my balls with tiny nibbles that made me shudder.
The room was filled with sounds: her wet, sensual licks, my ragged breaths, the steady drip of precum hitting the bowl. My body was trembling, caught in a pleasure that wouldn’t quite break. She didn’t stop, her fingers working my prostate while her hand pumped my huge cock, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge. “Give it all to me,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “I want every drop.”
Then, without warning, she pressed harder on my prostate, her hand moving faster. The pleasure exploded, and I came with a low, guttural moan, my body shaking as thick, heavy streams of cum shot into the bowl. It was a flood, each pulse pouring out more, filling the dish with an amount that seemed unreal, some spurts splashing onto the table. My cock throbbed with every burst, its size still striking even now, as if it refused to give in.
She rested her head against my thigh, her breathing as unsteady as mine, like she’d felt the climax with me. My cock stayed half-hard, still twitching in her hand, a few final drops falling into the brimming bowl. She stroked it gently, coaxing out the last of it with a care that made me sigh. “That was amazing,” she murmured, her voice warm and full of wonder. “Look at all this milk you gave me.”
As I tried to catch my breath, my body still buzzing, she lifted the bowl, its thick, creamy contents gleaming in the soft light. With a playful smile, she dipped her fingers into the mess, bringing them to her lips. She licked them slowly, savoring each taste like it was a rare treat, her eyes locked on mine. Then, with careful, deliberate licks, she cleaned the bowl, lapping up every bit, even the drops that had spilled onto the table, letting out soft moans as if the act was as delicious for her as it had been for me.
She leaned back, her smile warm and satisfied, looking at me like we shared a secret. She didn’t say a word, just watched me, her eyes sparkling with a quiet connection. I slumped onto the table, my mind foggy, my body spent but strangely alive. My cock, still big and heavy, rested against my thigh, a reminder of what we’d just shared.
Maybe losing this bet wasn’t so bad. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be okay with losing again.
She moved closer, her steps calm and deliberate, like she was setting the stage for something special. With a faint clink, she slid a wide, shallow ceramic bowl beneath me, its smooth surface catching the dim light. “To catch every drop of your milk,” she murmured, her tone playful enough to make my cheeks flush. Her eyes drifted to my crotch, and I felt my cock stir, despite the embarrassment burning inside me. It wasn’t just big—it was *huge*, a thick, heavy length that always drew stares, even when soft. Now, under her gaze, it was starting to harden, twitching slightly against my thigh.
She reached out, her small fingers struggling to wrap around the base of my shaft. “Wow,” she breathed, a hint of awe in her voice, as she began to stroke me, her touch slow and gentle, like she was handling something precious. The way she moved, firm yet tender, felt exactly like milking—a steady, rhythmic pull that seemed designed to draw out everything I had. My cock swelled quickly, growing into a thick, throbbing column, its veins standing out under the skin. I could feel its weight, the tension in every inch, as she kept going, making my body respond in ways I couldn’t control.
“It’s incredible,” she said, her voice warm with admiration as she traced her fingers along my length, lingering on the glistening tip already slick with precum. Then she cupped my balls, full and heavy, feeling their weight with a smile. “They’re so loaded… You’re gonna give me a lot of milk, aren’t you?”
“Please, just get it over with,” I mumbled, my voice shaky with a mix of shame and desire. I wanted it to end, but at the same time, every stroke of her hand made my body crave more. My cock was already leaking, a shiny thread dripping into the bowl below, and the feel of her hands was too good to ignore.
She didn’t answer, just leaned in and kissed my balls softly, her warm, wet mouth enveloping them with care. A shiver of pleasure shot through me, making my cock twitch, another thick drop falling into the bowl. Her fingers, now slick with my own fluids, glided over my shaft, exploring every detail with a slowness that drove me wild. Then, out of nowhere, her tongue moved higher, licking my ass with a boldness that caught me off guard. It was gentle but confident, her movements wet and audible, warm saliva trailing down my skin. The tip of her tongue teased my entrance, pressing just enough to make me tremble, while her hand kept stroking my cock, using the precum to massage the swollen, sensitive head.
I couldn’t see her, and that made every sensation more intense, like I was completely at her mercy. Her touches were unpredictable: one moment, she’d kiss my skin with a tenderness that made me sigh; the next, she’d nibble or lick with more fervor, keeping me on edge. My cock was fully erect now, so big her hand could barely encircle it, pulsing with an urgency I couldn’t ignore. She kept stroking, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she wanted to savor every second of this strange, intimate moment. This wasn’t just about the bet anymore—she was enjoying having me like this, open and surrendered to her will.
She paused for a moment, just to look at me. “God, it’s so big,” she said, her eyes bright with fascination. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She wasn’t exaggerating: my cock was massive, its girth challenging her grip, the head swollen and shiny with precum that kept dripping steadily. I could feel it throbbing, full of blood, aching for release but held back by her slow, teasing pace.
Suddenly, she slipped a finger inside me, probing until she found my prostate. The sensation was like a bolt of lightning, a deep, pulsing pleasure that made me gasp but stopped short of climax. My cock jerked, more fluid splattering into the bowl. “Please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “I need to cum.”
She added a second finger, massaging my prostate with slow, precise strokes. Each touch sent waves of pleasure through me, making my cock swell even more, its size almost overwhelming. Her other hand sped up, stroking me with more intensity, like she was coaxing everything out of me. My balls tightened, heavy and aching, ready to burst. Precum poured into the bowl, forming a glistening pool, while she kissed my balls with tiny nibbles that made me shudder.
The room was filled with sounds: her wet, sensual licks, my ragged breaths, the steady drip of precum hitting the bowl. My body was trembling, caught in a pleasure that wouldn’t quite break. She didn’t stop, her fingers working my prostate while her hand pumped my huge cock, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge. “Give it all to me,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “I want every drop.”
Then, without warning, she pressed harder on my prostate, her hand moving faster. The pleasure exploded, and I came with a low, guttural moan, my body shaking as thick, heavy streams of cum shot into the bowl. It was a flood, each pulse pouring out more, filling the dish with an amount that seemed unreal, some spurts splashing onto the table. My cock throbbed with every burst, its size still striking even now, as if it refused to give in.
She rested her head against my thigh, her breathing as unsteady as mine, like she’d felt the climax with me. My cock stayed half-hard, still twitching in her hand, a few final drops falling into the brimming bowl. She stroked it gently, coaxing out the last of it with a care that made me sigh. “That was amazing,” she murmured, her voice warm and full of wonder. “Look at all this milk you gave me.”
As I tried to catch my breath, my body still buzzing, she lifted the bowl, its thick, creamy contents gleaming in the soft light. With a playful smile, she dipped her fingers into the mess, bringing them to her lips. She licked them slowly, savoring each taste like it was a rare treat, her eyes locked on mine. Then, with careful, deliberate licks, she cleaned the bowl, lapping up every bit, even the drops that had spilled onto the table, letting out soft moans as if the act was as delicious for her as it had been for me.
She leaned back, her smile warm and satisfied, looking at me like we shared a secret. She didn’t say a word, just watched me, her eyes sparkling with a quiet connection. I slumped onto the table, my mind foggy, my body spent but strangely alive. My cock, still big and heavy, rested against my thigh, a reminder of what we’d just shared.
Maybe losing this bet wasn’t so bad. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be okay with losing again.
