Flesh, Leather and Milk

Two weeks of whispers across a screen,
Unveiled a hunger, fierce and unseen.
Two worlds collided in a single spark,
Finding safe harbor within the dark.
​Beneath the leather, the ties, the control,
Flowed a deeper warmth that bound the soul.
A soft feather tracing her sensitive skin,
To summon the heat and the ache deep within.
​Restrained yet helpless, surrendered to touch,
Wanting so little, yet craving so much.
Heavy breath meeting her flushed, burning skin,
As the wild, primal hunger began to set in.
​No words were spoken, the silence profound,
As leather met flesh with a sharp, stinging sound.
The lust in her chest, the sharp intake of air,
Trapped in the trance of a master’s firm snare.
​Her grand udders heavy, ripe, swollen, and tight,
Yielding their nectar in soft, dimming light.
Hand-milked at the source with an expert command,
Draining the sweet, rich reward into hand.
​”Don’t stop,” shone the plea in the depth of her eyes,
As heavy gasps echoed through shuddering sighs.
Bound and constrained in the web of our craft,
In waves of pure bliss where the fevered mind laughed.
​A three-hour epic where time fell away,
In the heat of the dark where pure instincts play.
Latching on closely as currents ran deep,
Secrets of passion the shadows would keep.
​Bound by our nature, locked tight in the flow,
A sacred sanctuary where only we go.
A weekly devotion, a vow made in dark,
To feed the hot flame and fan every spark.
​Now her rich milk supply swells with each touch,
Responding in kind to the hands craving much.
Exhausted and breathless, satisfied deep,
We lay in the quiet as shadows took sleep.
​Whispering softly, she asked through the haze,
“Have I become a hucow, a slave to your ways?”
I smiled in the quiet, and held her so near:
“No—you are beautiful, and simply flew with your desire, my dear.”
​She rested her head as the soft darkness fell,
Enfolded completely in love’s heavy spell,
And breathed with a smile, “Whatever it is, I agree—
I love this new life, and accept it for me.”