MILK UDDERS, part 17 (Patreon)

Melania could only nod, her throat suddenly dry. Immediately, her mother brought her a small stool for her to sit on to milk.

“Beat that stuck-up Sarah,” she said to her with a murmur.

I don’t give a shit about her mother, Melania thought to herself as she watched Sarah carry another stool to Bianka. I’m going for the daughter.

Taking the initiative, she sat down next to her cow. Near her, Bianka took up positions as well, both young milkmaids placed almost side by side with their cows in their reach. And then, everything fell silent—an almost unnatural silence for a place as incredibly crowded as that open field in the middle of the town. The glances Melania exchanged with Bianka as the two prepared for their public contest heated up the surrounding atmosphere, but no one dared to make a sound. Out of the corner of her eye, the Italian milkmaid saw her mother standing a few steps away from her, a moral support that Bianka also received from Sarah on the other side.

Melania didn’t know who started it, but without any countdown or proclamation, they were both suddenly milking their cows. The dark-haired beauty pulled and tugged at the udder and squeezed out the milk, the liquid quickly filling up the first of her buckets. As her own mother replaced the bucket with a gesture of encouragement, Melania began to fill the second bucket while watching Bianka match her pace.

Without stopping milking, Melania found herself staring at Bianka’s big breasts, the shirt-covered glands swaying slightly as the white-haired girl drained her own cow. Unable to control her thoughts, she saw herself reaching her hands up to those plump globes and doing the same thing she was just doing to her animal. Her face lit up like a light bulb, but the brunette didn’t regret her dirty idea—not when her ultimate goal was to get her revenge by milking Bianka one way or another before the end of the day. If that stuck-up girl had managed to get a few drops of milk from her boobs to boobs, she would have no reservations about retaliating by squirting spurts of milk out of her bosoms with her bare hands if they got to that point.

Melania filled the second bucket at the same time as her buxom foe, thinking obsessively about how the Austrian’s breasts would feel compared to the udder of the cow she was milking. It was obvious that Bianka’s would not be flabby and soft, but dense and hard, although that was something she had already felt against her own firm pair two nights ago. But Melania wondered if they would feel as warm to the touch as a cow’s, but especially if she would perceive the satisfying pressure of the milk contained under the flesh before forcing it out.

The Italian beauty moved her hands to another pair of mammary glands just after filling the third bucket, again at the same time as her blue-eyed nemesis. She immediately felt a small cramp in her left arm, and twisted the gesture. She knew that the forearm muscles suffered the most during milking, but she didn’t expect the crazy speed of milking and the pressure to win the showdown to take their toll so quickly. Still, something behind the defiance in Bianka’s gaze let her know that something wasn’t right for the Austrian and, when shortly thereafter she filled the fourth bucket of milk two or three seconds before Bianka, she knew that the other milkmaid was running out faster than she was. A delicious feeling of triumph flooded Melania’s curvaceous body, lighting up her dark eyes with arrogance and stiffening her already hard nipples at the prospect of beating the other woman. However, she knew that victory would not be complete until she milked the only white cow that mattered.

“What’s wrong?” Melania managed to gasp as she felt beads of sweat sliding down her forehead. It was only then that she became aware that her words had not broken the silence, for the audience was already shouting encouragement to their favorite milkmaid. “Tired already?”

“You wish,” Bianka replied with a strained voice and perspiration glistening on her attractive face, the excited screams of others surrounding her words.

When the mothers of the rivals withdrew the fifth buckets full of milk, Melania cursed with a grunt that her advantage was reduced to barely half a second. Her forearms throbbed with the effort, and her fingers began to go numb, but her milkmaid pride pushed her forward, and her hands continued milking the udder with desperate haste. And yet, shortly after that, Bianka’s mother picked up the sixth bucket just before she finished filling hers. It was only a couple of seconds of delay, or maybe a little more—not much, but enough.

“You loser,” Bianka gasped with a slight smug twisting of her full lips as her eyes were shamelessly glancing at the brunette’s fat chest. “Getting tired?”

“Never,” Melania lied.

The seventh cube became somehow eternal for the Italian beauty. Squeezing the glands of the cow, she tugged relentlessly as the entire torso under the tight black shirt became soaked. She didn’t need to look down to know that the fabric was sticking to her generous bust, as within a short distance Bianka’s white T-shirt was clinging more and more to the Austrian’s heavy boobs. The braless orbs looked incredibly seductive and fuller than ever now under the sun, and Melania couldn’t believe how enlarged her competitor’s nipples seemed to be at that moment.

Shaking her head so as not to be distracted, Melania focused on coming back in a duel she was losing. When both petite women finished the seventh buckets, Bianka was still first, but now only less than a second ahead.

“Don’t get nervous,” Melania gasped, trying to mentally play with the other milkmaid.

“Don’t worry about me,” Bianka grunted as she tugged at the udder of her cow with dexterity but undeniable weariness.

Melania filled the eighth bucket sooner than she expected and, to her delight, at the same time as Bianka did. The gaze of both beauties hardened while their cramped fingers alternated between mammary glands, the eyes of both beauties didn’t wasting any time in falling on the other breasts again. Feeling the udders firmly in her hands, the brunette urgently looked for where she could get as much milk as possible, but desperation and exhaustion and the distraction from Bianka’s bosoms caused some of the hot and sticky liquid to splash on her hands.

“And you call yourself a milkmaid,” Bianka scoffed. “Learn to milk properly.”

“Say it for yourself,” Melania spat back, watching the milk dripping from between her opponent’s fingers. “What a rookie.”

The ninth buckets were filled with milk at a time, and excitement around the evenly matched competition rose among the audience. Only a bucket and a few tugs on the overheated mammary glands of her cow separated Melania from besting her hated archnemesis. Ignoring the fatigue in her forearms and the pain in her fingers, the brunette pressed the udders with everything she had, knowing that she had to win the milking duel no matter what—not for her mother, who kept shouting encouragement at her, nor for her family business, but for her own pride as a woman. Her dark eyes didn’t stop moving up and down, from the mesmerizing large breasts to the bluish gaze of the other young woman, and back again, in that last sprint of squeezes and pulls. Bianka returned every hot stare, either to Melania’s face or boobs, as she milked her cow quickly and skillfully.

There was suddenly a huge shouting around the girls, as if something important and exciting had just happened. Melania kept squeezing her animal’s glands while, near her, Bianka did the same, until several seconds later she realized that both of their buckets were so full that the milk was spilling out onto the floor.

“What?” she exclaimed, looking around. Only then did she realize that she had been so focused on her opponent that neither she nor Bianka had noticed that the competition had ended ten, twelve seconds earlier. “What happened? Who has won?” Her gaze met her mother’s? “Who has won, mammi?”

Amidst the chaos of voices, her mother’s words were lost, but one of them managed to reach her ear.

“…draw…”

Melania got up from the stool in disbelief. Next to the other cow, her white-haired challenger did the same at Sarah’s words, her face as full of incredulity as her own must be. Only when her eyes met again, dark against light, obsidian against sapphire, did the surprise disappear to make way for a volatile mixture of hatred and frustration.

“Both have lost!” a woman’s voice was heard above the shouting. “Both have to suck the udders!”

“It’s true!” a man howled. “May they keep their words!”

“Suck, suck, suck, suck!” As a single voice, the cruel crowd pronounced sentence. “Suck, suck, suck, suck!”

Shit! Melania’s cheeks reddened, aware that there was no escape from all that. She gritted her teeth as she mentally blamed the situation on Bianka. Only if she didn’t exist. Now this will be the first impression I leave in this town. Wanting the humiliation to end as soon as possible, she headed for the cow from Zweifrauen Milchhof. Damn white cow!

Bianka crossed paths with her, and the point-blank stare was so intense that Melania couldn’t help but exhale some of her fiery animosity in her enemy’s ear.

“I’m going to get you alone and milk you,” she whispered with anger.

“Find an excuse to enter the big tent in the back,” Bianka replied in her ear, and the hatred that exuded from her whole body almost knocked the brunette over. “We’ll see who milks who.”

Melanie let both shoulders collide lightly, not caring if anyone noticed or not. Leaving Bianka behind, she humiliatingly dropped to her knees next to the cow that the blue-eyed beauty had just milked and, without thinking, popped a mammary gland into her mouth. Against her thick lips, the udder felt burning after the brutal milking. Closing her eyes, she sucked, and the taste and smell of natural milk flooded her senses. Turning her face with the gland still in her mouth, she opened her eyes to see Bianka sucking on the udders of her cow, and their almost teary eyes met again. The audience showed their approval with more enthusiastic howls, and Melania knew that she would never ever forgive Bianka for what she was going through.

I hate you with all my heart, she thought bitterly, and felt the same sentiment hurled at her from the eyes of the other petite, busty milkmaid.

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Words: 1801.