Elsie the Cow

I woke to that wonderful sensation of him latching on.

"And good morning to you too, sweetheart," I said, lightly stroking his hair.

I used my hand to massage my breast, encouraging the milk flow.

"Drink your fill," I said softly, my hand trailing down his belly, finding where he was hard.

"I love you, baby," I said, as my hand stroked him slowly, taking my time.

He didn't stop nursing as he came, and I held him until he was completely soft.

And still, he nursed until I got the giggles.

I used my finger to break his latch and pushed him away.

"God, baby," I said, "you'd think this was the first tit you ever had."

He smiled and said, "Well, it's the first from my First."

I giggled and rolled out of bed. "Gotta pee, honey," I said, heading for the bathroom. I lifted my arm, sniffed, and said, "and I HAVE to shower"

I heard the water running as I did my morning business and then joined him in the shower.

He was almost timid when I got in with him and began soaping up the washcloth.

But he got over it pretty quickly and soon we were washing each other, making a bit of a game of it. He shampooed my hair and acted very sorry when I got soap in my eye. He rinsed and kissed the pain away and damn but he WAS turning into a very good kisser.

Clean and dry I kissed him and asked if he wanted me. He smiled and surprised me by saying, "I want to show you off."

I smiled and kissed him.

"God, I love you," I said, and pulled the blue shift, the color of a First, over my head and took his hand.

"Get dressed, then," I said, "and let's go show The Community how proud I am to be your First."

And we did just that. It's a small town and as we walked to my favorite downtown restaurant I kept both hands on his arm, signaling my possession of him and his of me. I don't know that I have ever been prouder, walking beside this handsome young man who had chosen me.

He held the door and we drew looks and greetings from almost everyone in the place. I was so proud I damn near cried when he laid his hand possessively on my hip as we stopped and exchanged greetings as we made our way across the room to an empty table. I had a high-energy breakfast, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, a short stack of pancakes, coffee, and orange juice. He pretty much mirrored what I had. There was no charge for breakfast. There was no charge for anything in The Community for a New Man and his First.

I had never been a First, and it was interesting watching him adjust to his new status. It was nothing dramatic, but the men talked to him as an equal, the handshakes were those of an equal, and the eye contact was that of equal to equal. The women, in contrast, who would have treated him as a boy yesterday showed him a subtle respect. More than one made it clear, through that body language passed down from our hundred-thousand-times-great grandmothers, that they were available to him when he wanted them. The boys with whom he played yesterday were similarly respectful of a New Man. He was accepting it well and I thought his dad had done a good job with him.

There were good-natured catcalls as we headed back for the cottage and I put a little extra swing into my ass drawing a few whistles which made me blush.

I had been thinking of how to, well, how to "teach" him. It's not something talked about among the women of The Community because so few of us get the opportunity. There's no "playbook" or "lesson plan" from which to copy.

So I had been thinking of it, okay, I hadn't been thinking of much else since my husband had told me I was to be a First, and I moved on to the next step.

Inside the cottage, I turned and embraced him, a full-on-try-to-absorb-him-into-my-body embrace, and covered his face with kisses.

"May I undress you?" I asked, making sure to show the proper deference, woman to man.

"Yes," he said, his voice muffled between my big soft breasts.

So I stepped back, just enough space for my hands to get between us, and started.

"This is a lesson, Benjamin," I said, smiling and using his full name deliberately.

"Oh?" he asked.

I smiled and said, "undressing should be a sensual experience."

I reached down and started pulling his T-shirt up, doing it slowly, my fingertips brushing skin up his waist and ribs and armpits. When I had his arms straight up, effectively captured by the shirt, I bent and blew on his armpit and then licked it making him squirm.

I tossed the shirt aside and wrapped him in another embrace, my hands on his back now, covering him with soft caresses and light scratches with my fingernails. He was moving his head back and forth slowly, burrowing between my tits,

I started easing to my knees, kissing him on the way down, but a fairly brief kiss because that was an awkward position for me.

On my knees, I kissed his belly button, a bit of an outie, and couldn't resist sucking it a little making him try to jerk away but my hands on his ass held him to me.

I lifted his foot then, untying his tennis shoe and taking it off followed by the sock. I caressed his bare foot and then lifted his foot and bent down and kissed it. Then I did the other foot the same way.

Finally, I undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped, and worked them down, bringing his boxers with them. He was hard, of course, and I bent forward, opened my mouth, and took his entire erection in. It was still a boy's cock and didn't even touch my gag reflex. But I just closed my lips, laid my tongue across the bottom, and pulled off, not fast but not slow either, Just a greeting before I brushed my cheeks across where he was so hard and then standing.

He was smiling.

"Later," I said, kissing him, "I'll put on more clothes and let you practice but for now, hop up on the bed for the next lesson."

He did with that odd mixture of grace and awkwardness of puberty and growth spurts.

Undressing, for me, was much easier. I simply pulled the shift up and off.

He was reaching for me and I said, "I won't say no, Benjamin, but I'd rather show you something first."

He smiled and, in one of his first truly adult statements, "teach me then, my First."

I crawled up onto the bed beside him, much less graceful and much more awkwardly than he had I'm afraid, and sat back on my feet, smiling down at him.

"Now," I said, smiling, "your next lesson. Just looking. I'm going to learn every square inch of your body and then you can learn mine."

He smiled and said, "okay."

So I did.

I started at his hairline, running my fingers gently across his forehead, running them through his hair like I was checking for lice. I moved down his face, the same way, my fingertips touching every inch of his skin. He squirmed when I did his ribs and again when I played with his outie. A few drops of thick precum worked out of his erection as I pulled down that residual foreskin from his circumcision and ran my fingers around the ridge of his glans. I didn't dare linger or I would have finished him right then and I didn't want to do that.

The inspection continued down then, his legs and feet before I rolled him over and started up his back. He squirmed again as I played with the backs of his knees. When I got to his ass he got positively squirmy and when I spread his cheeks and kissed what I exposed he came.

I giggled and waited for the spasm to pass and then moved up his back. When I finished I moved to sit on his ass and massage his shoulders. As I massaged I moved my hips in a slow rocking motion, deliberately rubbing my coarse pubic hair where his cheeks split, something every man I had ever been with found arousing.

I bent and kissed the back of his head before rolling off, laying back, and saying, "your turn."

He mirrored what I had done and I realized that this was something I would tell all of the other women about. For the next hour of perfect sensuality, I laid back, trying to be still, as he studied my body.

He started with my face, as I had, his fingertips very light on my forehead and my eyelids and my cheekbones and my lips, like he was a blind man learning my face with his fingers. He ran his fingers through my hair and carefully inspected my scalp, checking for lice and making me giggle a little at the image.

He was even more thorough than I had been. His fingertip found each separate little crease and dent on the shell of my ear, the little tab right at the ear canal, that soft sensitive spot at my earlobe. When he breathed, "I love you, my First" into my ear I damn near came right then, and whispered, "and I love you."

He spread my nostrils and looked up in there, making me squirm a little because I could feel my nose running a little in concert with what was happening between my legs. When he touched and drew a long silvery thread I said a soft, "ewwww," but when he kissed me I kissed him back.

His fingertips on my chins was enough to make me shiver and I felt the heaviness in my breasts as my milk let down suddenly. To my surprise, he ignored my breasts where I could feel the internal pressure making my nipples drip slowly. Rather, he did my hands and arms, doing each finger separately and then my palms, making me shiver when he hit a nerve ganglia at the center of each palm. He did my arms, slowly, the firm forearms first, and then the softness of my upper arms. He made me squeal when he tickled and then licked and then nipped my armpits.

When he finally got to my breasts it was my turn to cum almost spontaneously. He laid his hands flat on my ribs, his thumbs under my right breast first, touching, and the edges of his forefingers along the sides. He slowly moved his hands until his fingertips touched and then began forcing my mammary gland forward. The pressure from my let-down milk forced it to flow slowly from my nipple. What got to me, well, beyond the fact that I was head over heels in love with him, something I suppose happens to every First, was that he didn't latch on. Instead, he touched the milk with his tongue, licking it up rather than suckling.

And I came. Not a hard orgasm having me trying to do a situp, but a flowing of ecstasy leaving me slick between my legs. I could feel my love nectar running down the crack of my ass as my legs scissored a little. Time lost meaning as he did both of my breasts like that. I was panting and writhing when he finally moved his exploration down my body. It's not like my udders hadn't leaked before, but right then it was like I could feel every drop emerge from the milk ducts and then slowly run down the sides of my breasts making the sheet under me damp.

I giggled when he used his hands to squeeze my belly fat and then fell into a laughing fit when he shook it and I felt the little ripples up and down my body.

He gently pressed my thighs then and I parted my thighs, lifting my knees a little to ease the pressure on my hip joints.

He squirmed around then, positioning his knees between mine, and explored between my legs the way he had done my face, his fingertips exploring like a blind man. I felt his fingers low in the crack of my ass and then slowly dragging up through my labia. As I watched he slowly lifted his hand, looking at it like it was one of his favorite cookies. My love honey, when I'm fully aroused like I was right then, is thick and milky white, and from his fingers a string of it hung as he turned his hand, looking at it like he was inspecting a diamond ring. He smiled at me as he put the two fingers into his mouth, closed his eyes, and sucked.

"You are delicious," he said, the first words since he had started his inspection.

I managed to get, "thank you," out as he went back to his inspection.

He seemed fascinated with my soft belly apron, a gift from my children, and, well, okay, my love of eating. He lifted the roll at the tops of my thighs and traced the bottom of the fold with his fingertips over and over, making me giggle and squirm.

When he lifted my clitoral hood, touching that hard little button of pleasure, my body jerked, but he moved on before I would cum again.

He worked his way down my legs then, tracing each little cellulite dimple and then the soft little roll at my knees. He made me squeal and squirm by running a fingernail lightly down my shin where I am ticklish and then made me yell when he grabbed my foot and started tickling that.

"BENJAMIN," I yelled, "you'd better stop that or you'll see me pee."

He laughed at that and then gave me a wonderfully adult Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle. "That might be fun too," he said, dragging a finger up the arch of my foot, making me squeal and squirm.

"Pervert," I said, laughing.

"Student," he said, sliding off the end of the bed and then saying, "roll over."

So I rolled over and wriggled around to get centered on the bed.

I felt goosebumps rise along the trail of his fingertips as he lightly traced up my calves. My body jerked when he got to that place behind my knees where I'm SO sensitive. Then there were more goosebumps as his fingertips worked up the backs of my thighs.

I held my breath and managed to not squirm or jerk as his fingers explored the depths of my

gluteal sulcus

, the line where a human ass meets the backs of her (or his I suppose) thighs. I managed to relax as he slowly touched each cellulite dimple and I was surprised when he said, in a soft voice, "God, you are beautiful."

I giggled and said, "thank you, Benjamin, flattery is always nice."

I yelped when he slapped my ass.

"Elsie," he said, and there was a very adult snap in his voice now, "you may be my First, but I AM a product of The Community and I know how to handle a woman. Now I'm warning you, if you accuse me of flattery again I WILL turn you over my knee. When I say you are beautiful I MEAN it."

I was surprised by the tears that flowed.

"I understand," I said in my best naughty girl voice. I mean, no woman in The Community reaches adulthood without at least a few spankings and I recognized his tone.

"Good," he said, his voice soft again, "now, where was I?"

I giggled and wiggled my ass.

"Ohhhhhhhhh yeah," he said.

After that exchange, I felt different. Until then I had been, well, the "teacher" is a good way to think about it. But now I realized I was, well, "claimed" is a good word, on the level I hadn't been claimed since my wedding.

When I felt his hand on my ass, gently spreading my cheeks, and then his fingertips finding the very sensitive skin there, I shivered. When he traced that circle surrounding my anus the way my big

gluteal

muscles contracted was a reflex, my brain had nothing to do with it. He waited until I relaxed, spread my cheeks again, and then I could feel him blowing gently, the sensation making my pussy pump again, adding to the wetness on my belly now.

His exploration of my back was more of the same, leaving me limp and panting by the time he got to my hairline and kissed my neck, whispering, "you're done," into my ear.

He got off of me from where he had been sitting on my ass and I rolled up onto my side.

Laying there, face to face, my arm across his waist and his over mine, I smiled, not caring about the tears or my runny nose. I was in love like I hadn't been since my marriage.

"You are beautiful," he said and all I said was, "thank you, baby."

I lifted my leaking breast and said, "baby, I'm about to explode. Help please."

We lay like that, him nursing first my left breast and then my right for some fraction of eternity as the aching of my breasts eased.

I could feel him hard against me, and God knows I was wet and ready for him, so I used my finger to break his latch on my nipple and reached down to touch him where he was hard.

"Come on, baby," I said, rolling onto my back.

He smiled, and climbed around until his knees were between mine. I spread my legs, lifting my knees, offering myself fully.

He kissed me, slipped inside, and came.

"Oh, God," he said, "I'm sorry," and he started to pull away.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding him, not letting him go.

"Don't feel bad, baby," I said, "it's a compliment."

I kissed him about 20 times, covering his face before he relaxed and started kissing back.

"But," I said, pushing him away far enough to focus on his eyes, "I think our next lesson will be about control."