Milky Foreskin Throbs

The first thing I noticed when you walked through the door was how hard your dick was. I could see it through your jeans, that thick outline pressing against the denim like it was trying to escape. I was already on the bed, naked except for the thin sheen of sweat covering my body. Being eight months pregnant in July is no joke, but you never seemed to mind. You always looked at me like I was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen, and right then, with your eyes fixed on my swollen belly and my tiny frame, I felt it.

“You’ve been waiting for me,” you said, and it wasn’t a question.

I nodded, my fingers already moving to my nipples. They were purple now, so dark they almost looked bruised, and tiny despite how full my breasts had become. The areolas had spread out like ink blots on pale skin, and the nipples themselves were these tight little buds that ached constantly. I pinched the left one between my thumb and forefinger and a thin stream of milk shot out, arcing through the air and landing on my thigh.

“I’ve been leaking all day,” I told you. “Every time I think about you, it just starts pouring.”

You pulled your shirt off and I watched the muscles in your stomach flex. Then your jeans were gone and your boxers followed, and there you were, standing naked at the foot of the bed with your cock pointing straight at me. I’d never gotten used to how big you were. At five feet tall, everything about you was oversized for me, but your dick was something else entirely. Thick and veined, with that heavy ridge running along the underside, and your foreskin pulled back just enough to reveal the swollen purple head, already slick with pre-come.

“Come here,” I whispered, and you climbed onto the bed.

I leaned forward and took my own nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while I watched you stroke yourself. The milk flooded my tongue, warm and sweet, and I let it pool in my mouth without swallowing. You moved closer, your free hand cupping the back of my head, and when our lips met, I pushed the milk into your mouth. You groaned against me, swallowing some and letting the rest dribble down your chin.

“Fuck, Carol,” you breathed, pulling back. “Do that again.”

So I did. I pinched my right nipple this time, squeezing until milk sprayed across your chest, and then I sucked the left one again, filling my mouth with more of that warm liquid. This time when we kissed, you grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, and I felt your cock press against my belly. The milk passed between our tongues, back and forth, and I could taste you mixed in with it now, that salt-sweet flavor of your spit and my milk combining into something that made my pussy clench.

Your foreskin was so sensitive. I reached down and wrapped my fingers around your shaft, feeling the loose skin slide up and down as I stroked you. The veins pulsed under my palm, thick ropes that throbbed with every heartbeat, and when I ran my thumb over the head, you shuddered. Pre-come was leaking constantly from the tip, not just a few drops but a steady flow that coated my fingers and made everything slick.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I said, and you didn’t make me wait.

You laid me back against the pillows, my legs spreading wide to accommodate my belly, and positioned yourself between them. The head of your cock pressed against my opening and I was already so wet that you slid in an inch without even trying. But then you stopped, because you knew how tight I was. At eight months pregnant, everything down there was swollen and sensitive, and you were so fucking big.

“Slow,” I gasped, and you nodded.

You pushed in another inch, and another, and I felt every ridge and vein of your cock as it stretched me open. My pussy clenched around you, trying to adjust, and I could feel your foreskin sliding back as you went deeper, the extra friction making me moan. When you were halfway in, I reached down and pinched both my nipples at the same time, and milk squirted up onto my chest and belly in twin streams.

“Oh god,” I whimpered. “You’re so deep. I can feel you in my fucking throat.”

You pulled back and thrust in again, and this time you went deeper. My womb was already so full, packed tight with our baby and amniotic fluid, and now your cock was pressing against my cervix, adding more pressure. I felt impossibly full, stretched beyond what I thought I could take, but it felt incredible. Every nerve in my pussy was firing, and when you started to move, I lost all control.

The first orgasm hit me like a wave. It started deep in my core and radiated outward, making my legs shake and my toes curl. Milk sprayed from my nipples without me even touching them, just from the force of the contractions, and I screamed your name so loud the neighbors probably heard.

“You’re coming already,” you said, and there was wonder in your voice.

“I’m always coming,” I managed to say. “With you inside me, I can’t stop.”

And it was true. The orgasm didn’t end so much as it faded into a lower hum, a constant state of pleasure that pulsed through me with every beat of my heart. You kept thrusting, slow and deep, and I could feel your foreskin moving inside me. That extra layer of skin created this incredible sensation, a soft slide followed by the firm pressure of the exposed head, over and over, and I could feel every vein in your cock throbbing against my inner walls.

“Tell me what it feels like,” you said, your voice strained.

“Your foreskin,” I gasped. “I can feel it sliding inside me. It’s so soft and then so hard, and the veins are pulsing against my g-spot. And you’re so fucking thick, Peter. I can feel every inch of you stretching me open. And the pre-come, it’s just dripping out of you, I can feel it pooling inside me, making everything so wet.”

You groaned and thrust harder, and I felt your cock twitch. That was when the first pulse of semen hit me. It was hot, so much hotter than the rest of you, and it shot deep inside, right against my cervix. But you didn’t stop. You kept pumping, and the semen kept flowing, a constant stream that filled me up and overflowed, dripping down my thighs and onto the sheets.

“You’re still coming,” I said, amazed. “How are you still coming?”

“I can’t stop,” you admitted. “You’re so tight, and your milk, and the way you’re squeezing me.”

I looked down at my nipples and milk was still pouring out of them, a steady drip that had soaked my chest and was pooling in the hollow of my throat. I pinched them again and the flow increased, spraying across my belly and onto your chest. You leaned down and sucked one into your mouth, drinking deeply, and the sensation of your tongue on my nipple combined with your cock still pulsing inside me sent me into another orgasm.

This one was stronger. My pussy clamped down on your dick so hard that you gasped, and I felt more semen flood into me. My womb felt impossibly full now, stretched tight with your come and our baby, and every time you thrust, more leaked out around your shaft. The wet sounds of our fucking filled the room, sloppy and obscene, and I loved it.

“I can feel it in my womb,” I told you, my voice barely a whisper. “All your come, it’s packed so tight inside me. Every time you pump, more shoots out, and I can feel it pushing against everything. I’m so full, Peter. I’ve never been this full.”

You pulled out just enough to slam back in, and the change in angle made me see stars. Your foreskin caught on my opening and then slid back, and the head of your cock hit my g-spot dead on. I screamed, milk spraying everywhere, and came so hard that my vision went white.

“Again,” I begged. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

You didn’t. You fucked me through that orgasm and into another, your cock never softening, your semen never stopping its steady flow. I lost count of how many times I came. It all blurred together into one endless peak, my body shaking and my nipples leaking and my pussy clenching around your throbbing dick.

The veins in your cock were so prominent now, thick and pulsing, and I could trace every one of them with my inner muscles. Your foreskin had pulled all the way back, exposing the entire head, and I could feel the ridge of it dragging against my walls with every thrust. The constant flow of pre-come and semen had made everything so wet that there was no friction at all, just this smooth, perfect glide that let you go as deep as you wanted.

“You’re so deep,” I moaned. “I can feel you in my stomach. Your dick is too big for me, Peter. It’s always been too big. But I love it. I love feeling you stretch me open.”

You kissed me then, deep and hungry, and I tasted my milk on your tongue. We passed it back and forth, that warm sweet liquid mixing with our saliva, and I swallowed some and let the rest drip down my chin. Your hips never stopped moving, pumping into me with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, and I wrapped my legs around your waist and pulled you even deeper.

“I’m going to come again,” I warned you, but it wasn’t really a warning. It was just a statement of fact.

This orgasm was different. It started in my nipples, of all places, a sharp electric pulse that shot down through my breasts and into my core. Milk gushed out of me, more than before, and I felt it spray across your chest and mine. My pussy clenched so hard that I pushed some of your semen out, and I felt it gush down my thighs in a hot flood. But you were still pumping more in, replacing what I’d lost and then some, and the sensation of being filled and emptied at the same time was overwhelming.

I looked down at where our bodies joined and watched your cock slide in and out of me. It was coated in a mixture of my wetness and your come, white and slick, and every time you pulled out, I could see your foreskin sliding forward to cover the head before pulling back again. The veins stood out like cords, blue and purple against the flushed skin, and I could see them pulsing with every heartbeat.

“Your cock is so beautiful,” I said. “I love watching it fuck me. I love feeling it throb inside me. You’re never going to stop coming, are you?”

“Not until you’re completely full,” you promised.

And you kept that promise. You fucked me for what felt like hours, your semen flowing constantly, your foreskin sliding and your veins pulsing and your thick cock stretching me open. My milk never stopped dripping, a steady flow that soaked the bed and made everything smell sweet and warm. I came so many times I lost count, and every orgasm just blended into the next until I was in a constant state of climax, my body shaking and my pussy clenching and my nipples spraying.

Finally, when I was so full of your come that my belly looked even bigger than before, you slowed down. Your thrusts became gentler, your breathing ragged, and I could feel your cock finally starting to soften inside me. The flow of semen slowed to a trickle and then stopped, and you collapsed onto the bed beside me, careful not to put weight on my belly.

We lay there for a long time, both of us covered in milk and come and sweat, the sheets soaked beneath us. I could still feel your semen inside me, packed tight in my womb, and every time I shifted, a little more leaked out.

“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” I said finally, looking at the mess we’d made.

You laughed, that deep warm sound I loved so much, and pulled me close. “We’re going to need a waterproof mattress.”

“And more sheets. So many more sheets.”

I rested my head on your chest and felt your heart beating under my cheek. Your foreskin was soft now, covering the head of your cock completely, and I reached down and touched it gently. You shivered, still sensitive, and I smiled.

“Next time,” I said, “I want to taste you while I drink my milk. I want to feel your foreskin in my mouth.”

You kissed the top of my head. “Next time, I want to fuck your milk into you from behind.”

“Deal,” I said, and I meant it.

We stayed like that until the baby kicked, a sharp little jab against my ribs that made us both laugh. Then we got up, took a shower together, and changed the sheets. And when we climbed back into bed, clean and warm and wrapped around each other, I knew that no matter how many times we did this, it would never be enough. But that was okay. We had all the time in the world.