The Milman Cometh

'One extra pint today - and double-cream!'

Enoch crunched the scribbled note in his hand, put it in his pocket and grinned: Mrs. Howell was one of his favourite customers and he never let her down. Carefully, he twisted the solid brass handle and eased the heavy oak door aside, shushing it sternly when it creaked on its hinges. He looked over his shoulder, not expecting to see anyone on the lane at this early hour, but better safe than sorry. Nothing stirred in the grey dawn except a robin, hopping over the well manicured lawn, looking for breakfast.

"The early bird catches the worm," he said to himself, closing the door behind him and looking up the stairs to his right.

"

This

early bird needs more than a worm to satisfy her appetite," an educated voice said in a husky tone.

Startled, Enoch looked behind him where she was waiting, clad in a flimsy nightgown that lay half-open exposing a creamy expanse of thigh and a sensuously curved breast. His grin widened and he stepped forward, parting the delicate lace curtain aside to run a hand across her smooth stomach and around her slender waist, pulling her towards him.

"I know what you need," he whispered, taking a firm handful of her pert bottom.

She wiggled seductively in his arms, rubbing her crotch on his growing erection, sighing happily at the solid sensation of it on her bushy mound.

"Something hot, thick and creamy," she breathed in his ear, nipping it playfully between her teeth.

Enoch buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed the soft skin gently, inhaling the light fragrance of her perfume and the deeper musk of her arousal mixed with night-sweat from her slumber, an intoxicating blend that hardened his desire for this middle-aged mother of two. Her kids had left home several years before he arrived in the village, although she didn't mind telling him of their success in London where her husband also worked as some high-flying lawyer, too busy to take care of her most basic need, though he kept her in a lifestyle that suited her expensive tastes.

"I got just what you ordered right here," he said, unzipping his trousers.

"Mmmmmmm," she purred, wrapping her slim fingers around his thick shaft, "Is that

all

for me?"

Enoch rubbed her juicy slit with a knowing finger and slid his other hand up to cup her breast, teasing the nipple into a hard button. Mrs. Howell arched into his body and moaned softly, encouraging him to suck it while she stroked him from tip to root.

"Of course," he said, transferring his attention to the other teat, "this is a special delivery; just for you (and all the other horny white bitches round here).

"God, I love this cock," she groaned, rubbing the enlarged head on her swollen clit. "This big beautiful black cock!"

'They all say that,' he thought, feeling her slide smoothly down to her knees. "Suck on it," he said aloud, his voice roughened with desire for her warm, wet mouth.

Her moan vibrated through his shaft as she took the head between her lips and he groaned in reply, twisting her hair between his fingers, forcing her mouth open to accept his hard cock.

She looked up at him with an expression that would've amazed her husband and shocked her friends who thought of her as Vera the housewife, Vera the staunch supporter of the local Rotary Club; Vera, the well spoken advocate of the Countryside Alliance. Only Enoch ever saw Vera the Whore, the cocksucking whore who delighted in gobbling the contents of his well hung balls; one hand cupped the large, hairy sacs as though weighing the potential amount contained within, the other disappeared between her parted thighs, rubbing briskly.

"Fuck my mouth," she crudely demanded when he pulled out to wipe his spit-slick length over her face.

Vera loved the way he made her feel so uninhibited, so

slutty

, and had craved his physical presence ever since she'd laid eyes on him. Their previous milkman, old Ted, had collected his money every Saturday for forty five years in the village before retiring last year, and had introduced Enoch as his replacement on Ted's last round. Her greeting had been cool, her handshake perfunctory, as it was with all tradesmen, but she found herself intrigued nonetheless; his polite manner and dignified approach melted her icy reserve, and after a few months, she began to wonder if it was true:

were black men as big as they said?

Oh, she watched the chat shows, read the gossip columns on idle afternoons and knew how they bragged that 'once you go black, you never go back'.

Her chance to find out came by accident; a simple misunderstanding. Vera had innocently asked if he could deliver chocolate milk and became flustered by his raised eyebrow in response. She'd blushed to the roots of her carefully dyed blonde hair when he asked how many times a week would she like it and avoided his deep brown eyes that seemed to know what she'd been thinking.

"Once a week is fine," she'd said, "I like a warm drink at night, before bed, to relax me."

"I'm sure you do."

She glanced at him, unable to prevent her eyes sliding over his crotch, drawn like a moth to a flame. "What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, closing the kitchen door with his foot and stepping beyond the threshold, "that a woman like you needs to relax."

Vera spluttered at his impertinence. "A woman like ..."

"I've seen the way you look at me," he went on, brushing aside her indignant retort, "staring at it - don't deny it." His voice rose to overcome her guilty denial. "We both know it's true."

"I am a respectable -"

"- married woman, yeah I know; but you're still wondering, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes."

"Wondering about what?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper and her eyes went wide when he slowly unzipped his fly, exposing a long black length of meat that swung between his legs like one of the black puddings in the butcher's shop window. It held her spellbound, unable to deny the truth of what he said.

Enoch simply said; "This." offering his enormous phallus up for her in both hands.

Vera knew she'd never have a better chance of satisfying her curiosity; her husband was out on an errand, her children were on holiday and the maid never came on weekends. She was alone with her dark fantasy, dangling in temptation before her grey-green eyes.

"Can I touch it?" she wondered aloud. "No! You should go - now!" She took a step back and bumped into the large oak table, a wedding gift from her mother-in-law.

Enoch stood his ground, brandishing the muscular appendage like a deadly weapon. "Do you

really

want me to go?" he said, slapping the enormous head in his hand. "You can touch it if you like - it won't bite."

"Maybe I will," she said coyly. "No, please go," she repeated firmly. "My husband will return soon."

'Then you'll never know how it feels in your hand,' an insidious voice whispered in her mind. 'Or how it feels in your mouth, in your ...'

Vera shook her head, partly to clear her lewd thoughts but mostly in disbelief at the size of him. His phallus was growing slowly erect, like the boom of a crane lifting a heavy load, swelling in length and girth beyond anything her imagination could conjure up. She licked her dry lips, aware that her breathing had become short and fast, matching her heartbeat. "I mean it, he'll come home shortly."

"Do you think he'll come before I do?" Enoch grinned, his hand gliding over the ebony shaft with long, slow strokes.

"You mean you're ... have you no shame!"

"Do you? You're standing there panting and rubbing your pussy like a bitch in heat."

Guiltily, Vera pulled her hand from her crotch without knowing how it had got there in the first place. She took a deep breath to calm her self and shivered, feeling her erect nipples rub on the inside of her bra, eliciting fresh thrills through her body.

"I should call the police!" she said, trying to regain control of a situation that was rapidly getting out of control.

"And tell them what?" Enoch said, stepping purposefully towards her. "I'm not going to rape you, Mrs. Howell. This is what

you

want."

"How dare you presume." she said, her vehemence barely above a whisper

"I'll dare anything for a beautiful woman, Vera."

She ignored his presumptuous use of her Christian name and looked him in the eye for the first time. Her husband hadn't given such a compliment for so long she couldn't remember when.

"You think I'm attractive?"

Enoch peered down at his erection. "It looks that way, doesn't it."

Vera followed his gaze and blushed.

Enoch took one step back; "Shall I leave now?"

"No!" Her hand shot out of its own volition, capturing the beast behind its large, throbbing head. She took it back quickly, as if it burned her tender palm. "I mean ..."

"That's okay, Vera," Enoch said, guiding her hand back onto his shaft, stroking it under her own.

"My goodness, it's so

hard

," she said, squeezing it.

Enoch gasped and moved their hands faster together. "Do that again," he urged. "It feels so good!"

Vera saw the glazed expression come over his liquid brown eyes and grew bold, realising she now had, literally, the upper hand. His breathing deepened to a low rumble, exciting her in turn. The illicit sensation of behaving badly for once in her strait-laced, buttoned-up life excited her even more, and she stroked harder, faster, the silver bracelet on her wrist jangling merrily in tune with her own desire to bring him pleasure. A powerful tremor ran through his entire length and a thick bead of creamy juice bloomed on the purplish-black head,

like one of the snowdrops in the garden at the first touch of spring

, she thought, pumping harder.

"Keep going," Enoch begged, holding her shoulders to keep his balance. "Don't stop!"

His strength forced Vera to her knees, and face to face with the object of her dreams. Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue and lapped the sticky ooze from his slit, bringing a loud groan from him and more juices from his tight balls. Her tongue slid down the underside of his shaft to lick them lasciviously.

Enoch breathed deep through his nose and let out a loud gasp; "Oh ... Jeeeesuuuussss!"

His emission shot over her head and splashed across her clean floor in a copious explosion of passion, and Vera gaped with awe at the vivid demonstration of sexual prowess; another spurt sizzled past her face, close enough to rouse a long dormant desire. Her mouth gaped wider, taking the next spurt on her tongue, stimulating her taste buds with its salty smooth texture, slipping to the back of her throat and down into her stomach where its heat spread through her loins. She moaned with pleasure at the hot, clean taste of his cum and took him between her carefully applied lips, smudging his shaft in pink lipstick as she swallowed the flow, reaching her own climax when the head hit the back of her throat and spent the final drops in a spasm of relief.

"That was nice, dear, but I really

do

need a carton of chocolate milk next week," she'd said, licking cum from her lips.

That became part of their secret code; chocolate milk meant 'come round the back on Saturday morning' or, like this morning, 'One extra pint today - and double-cream!' meaning; 'come inside - Now!'

Vera felt her mouth water at the prospect of getting more, now, and relaxed her throat to take him deeper with a convulsive gulp, swallowing a dribble of pre-cum with expectant relish. She only ever sucked him, never anything more; somehow, it didn't feel so much like cheating on her husband who, despite his shortcomings, did love her. Never in their twenty year marriage, or even since she'd met him three years prior to that at the age of nineteen, had any other man been privy to the secrets of her body - but then, no man had ever made her feel like this before: so wanton, desirable and fertile for his seed to sprout fresh passion in her heart.

She wanted every inch of his lust and wondered if she could possibly manage it. The whole thing measured nine inches long and almost three inches thick, according to her dressmaker's tape-measure, and his balls were as big as the eggs her geese laid, though filled with far more protein. Her juices flowed at the thought of them cracking under the strain of containing the load that bubbled in their hairy sacs, and she added another finger to the sticky pair already deep inside her wet pussy, fantasising that he was plunging between her trembling thighs instead of her mouth.

If Enoch had realised what she was thinking he would've obliged her but, truth be told, he enjoyed the way she worshipped his cock; on her knees, submissive and willing. He locked both hands behind her head and pulled her harder onto his shaft, almost halfway, before pulling her back to begin again, fucking her mouth faster until spittle frothed around her pouty lips.

"Yeah, baby, suck that cock," he breathed, "take that big, black cock in your pretty white mouth."

Vera gagged and drooled over him like a cheap whore, panting urgently through her nose, working her tongue over the sensitive glans. She winced as his fingers dug into her neck but welcomed the pain nonetheless; it enhanced her own pleasure and she aroused her self further by pressing the tip of her thumb onto her clitoris, dripping hot juices onto the polished hardwood floor.

The look in her eyes and the smell of her lust combined with the fact that almost half his length jutted from her mouth like an obscene tongue, brought Enoch to the edge of orgasm and with a muffled groan he pulled out of her mouth, dripping spit and pre-cum over her bared breasts.

Oh my God, Vera thought, watching his fist flash up and down the slippery shaft, 'he's going to' - "Do it," she said aloud, "cum all over me!" Her orgasm ripped through her soaking wet slit as the first splash of creamy cum hit her face. She whimpered, trying to stifle the scream of pleasure by jamming her free hand in her mouth while using the other like the dildo she kept secret in her sewing box, feeling her juices cascade over her wrist in a gush of ecstacy.

Enoch did just as she wanted and aimed his cock at her face and tits, coating her liberally in lusty blasts of hot spunk. It dripped from her pert chin and firm nipples, and ran down her stomach to slide into her juicy slit where she squished it inside her with a gasp of pleasure. Some of it stuck to her hair where it twinkled in the early morning sunrise like lingering starlight only to fade in the afterglow of their passionate tryst.

"Rub it in, baby," he grunted, feeling her hand squeeze another drop from his cock onto her tongue and taking him into her mouth one last time, sucking the dregs from his balls with a slavering joy. He then pointed to the floor where his spunk dripped into her puddle of cum; "you missed a bit."

Vera got down on her hands and knees and licked it from her expensively tiled floor like a hungry (horny) dog (bitch), slobbering over every single sticky drop as though it were choice pate. She felt little shame over her degrading behaviour; only a craving for more. The rasping sound of his zipper closing up told her she'd have to wait for another delivery and, with a sigh of regret, she looked up in time to see the front door close behind him.

Enoch whistled a merry tune and climbed back into his float without looking back, content with his start to the day. His friends and family couldn't understand why he moved to a tiny village in the middle of nowhere from the city and said he'd soon get bored in the country. How wrong they were! The first few months had been difficult and strange but as he'd settled into the routine of his new life, he'd never regretted leaving his old life behind. Why would he? The air here was cleaner, the grass greener and fewer people in the whole village than were in the tower block where he'd been brought up. After spending the first twenty seven years in the city, he was in no hurry at all to return after less than a year here. Besides, only pain and deceit remained in that concrete jungle; he preferred to think ahead. Today was rent-day, and that meant a visit from his landlord's voracious wife. A wide grin spread across his face; yes sir, life was good!