The Noel Files-04 -- Milk-Made Milkmaid
By CD-B2 (Seedee-Beetoo)
2011 by CD-B2
Two men lay on the floor of the meeting room, gasping in ecstatic frustration. Their clothes were disheveled and damp from sweat. With every breath, every beat of their hearts, their exposed cocks pulsed and throbbed as though they had a life of their own. Each pulse drove the men closer to orgasm, and then mercilessly yanked them back from that precipice. Their minds were in danger of shutting down from the conflicting sensations, but they couldn't stop what was happening to them. Their arms and legs twitched so that they looked like fish out of water. They were powerful men laid low by the pounding rush of cum that seemed to be eternally dammed up inside of their penises.
Sitting above them on the conference table, her stocking-shod legs crossed seductively and a wry smile on her face, was the woman who'd done this to them: Maria Columbus, Milkmaid of the Goddess Noel Fatale. She was topless, even though she wore a chic business skirt and high heels. With practiced ease, she cradled one of her enormous, but firm, breasts in one hand and pinched the nipple with the other. A solid, powerful jet of milk shot forth and hit the two men with the force of a fire hose, drenching them even further. Amazingly, their cocks inflated to half again the size of their current length and girth, and they both cried out in shock and intense pleasure. Maria smiled again. These two would make her Goddess happy. Her Goddess, who was even now on her way up to this very room. The voluptuous brunette with amazing breasts shivered at the thought of how she, too, had been transformed by Goddess Noel.
*****
Two Months Ago
There was something about the city that hummed in her veins; something that made her push and push and push harder than anyone she knew to attain her goals. Maria Columbus was staring from her 7th floor office window, out onto the busy streets below her. She felt as one with the people rushing around on their way to and from places, busy with their lives and feeding the life of the city. She fed the city too, but she also felt nourished by its hustle and bustle and its powerful centers of industry and business. Centers into which her company, The Columbus Combine, was inextricably plugged. She was sole proprietor of one of the most hip, most sought-after advertising/P.R. companies in the country, and was determined to stay on top. To call her "driven" would be a gross understatement.
Maria was a willowy brunette, a bit too thin for her height but attractive in a sharp kind of way. She kept her hair cropped stylishly short, and made sure that any gray that dared show itself was immediately dyed within an inch of its life. She dressed in tailored business suits that made the most of her runway model-like figure. Sharp seemed to be her operative descriptor: sharp mind, sharp clothes, sharp features, and sharp tongue.
Her sharpness was something that kept her ahead of the curve on her accounts and two steps ahead of her competition. She always knew where to find the movers and shakers, and her quick thinking and fast mouth overcame all obstacles. All obstacles except one, that is, and overcoming it was the reason she was burning the midnight oil in her office tonight. For months now, she'd been trying to set up a meeting with the owner of a high-end beverage company, Enn-Eff Satiates, but she couldn't even get them on the phone, let alone make it past the receptionist in their corporate headquarters. She was burning up Google and Lexus-Nexus trying to find out who she needed to target, but so far her searches only led her back to the same receptionist who blocked her every move. It was frustrating, to say the least.
Last week she'd gone down to their offices, a pre-war deco-styled building that she knew cost an arm and a leg to lease, in hopes of getting information from the receptionist. But the blonde bimbo had just stared at her in a way that made Maria uncomfortable (and that took some doing), like the bimbo wanted to sink her teeth into Maria's neck and rip out her throat. She had left hastily, without so much as a shred of information. The memory still gave Maria a cold chill down her spine.
Once back at her large downtown apartment, Maria doffed her business suit, letting the skirt hit the floor in front of the well-stocked bar in the living room. She stood there in her blouse and pantyhose, fuming at her defeat. "How can a receptionist who looks like that be so intimidating?" Maria wondered aloud. "Bitch." She reached into the mini refrigerator by the bar and pulled out an imported ale -- one of Enn-Eff's recent offerings -- and carefully poured herself a glass. "She's just a gorgeous air-headed bimbo. I've brushed past dozens like her! What's the problem with this one?" she asked herself.
She took a sip of the ale; it slipped smoothly over her tongue and her taste buds lit up with unexpected pleasure and sensations. Surprised, she held the bottle up and read the ingredients. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary -- except something called "Goddess Hops." She'd never heard of that variety, but it apparently made a difference in the taste of the brew. She took another sip and the ale warmed her mouth and throat. Her head went light with a feeling that wasn't quite dizziness; it was more like a shifting of something in her mind as the ale warmed her. That's when she realized that she'd never bought any Enn-Eff Ale, let alone put any in her mini bar.
Before she could do anything, though, Maria felt a sensuous heat radiating from her as the drink passed through her body. Her knees felt weak, and as she tried to steady herself against the nearby bar, she something really odd: her nipples were hot, almost burning hot! Not only that, but her pussy was tingling. She wanted to touch herself, but her brain was locked in indecision. Nipples or pussy? She did nothing, though, because she knew that if she moved her hands she'd collapse. Her grip on the bar was the only thing keeping her grip on the here and now. What was in that ale? She couldn't be drunk off two sips, could she? Had she been poisoned somehow? Drugged? She wanted to move, but she was locked in place not only by fear, but also by the sensations starting to course through her body and mind.
Impossibly, Maria heard high heels clicking on hardwood flooring in the hallway outside her front door. It was impossible because the hallway was carpeted. The sound stopped at her door and without warning the deadbolts, all three of them, began unlocking themselves. The security chain slid back and flew off the track. Maria was terrified, but couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even tremble. Her brain had seized up and all she could do was grip the bar for dear life.
Then the door opened, and Maria's eyes grew wide with shock as the receptionist from Enn-Eff stood in the doorway, her hands in the pockets of a sumptuous fur coat. Her blonde hair, covered in a fur hat, seemed to be blowing in its own wind. There was a cruel yet beautiful smile on her red lips as she surveyed the scene in front of her.