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An erotic impulse

Erotic fiction inspired by Sofi Shane in “Dairy Passion

When an erotic impulse strikes me, I don’t fight it. Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I obey my body’s urge to seek sensual pleasure.

Sometimes, all it takes is a fleeting idea. For example, I was enjoying a snack of milk and cookies when suddenly a strange thought occurred to me – I wonder what this milk would feel like if I rubbed it on my nipples?

I can tell you how it felt: absolutely fantastic. When the idea struck, I sat down on my bed and swirled my fingers in my drink, letting the impulse take hold. Then I played the cool milk over my lips and ran my wet fingers down my cleavage, slipping my dress off my shoulders.

My fingers went back to the cold milk for another dip, and then to my nipple. The cool liquid made my nipple stiffen instantly, my body tingling with anticipation. I put my cup down and eased my dress off, peeling my panties down and tossing them on the floor. Then I got comfortable.

Reaching for the milk, I dipped my fingers back in and painted more of the cold, creamy liquid on both my nipples, feeling them getting hard. I watched as the droplets of milk trickled slowly down my breasts.

I wet my fingers in the milk again and traced a line down my belly and into my pubic hair. Most girls my age shave their pussies, but I like the way my dark bush frames my pussy, making it look so pink and shiny when I spread it open. It turns me on to masturbate in front of a mirror so I can see that sexy contrast. I dabbled my fingers in my bush, admiring the way the hair caught it so I could see it glistening, like dew on a spider’s web.

I spread my legs wider and trailed my wet fingers over my pussy lips, the cold milk sending shivers of excitement through me as I painted it over each plump lip, getting them wet and slippery. When I was struggling to keep from squirming with arousal, I delved my chilled fingertips into the groove between them, sliding up and down and then seeking out my clit.

The surge of sensation was immediate and powerful. I gasped and my hips rocked up involuntarily, seeking more contact, my clit pulsing and my thighs trembling. I pushed one finger right inside my pussy, the coldness catching me by surprise as the chill spread inside me and I hit my G-spot. My legs twitched and I felt a little gush of wetness come out as the thrill spread through my body like lightning.

I didn’t hold back at all now, plunging my fingers into the cup and slapping my clit with my wet hand, milk splashing all over my crotch, my bush getting soaked. My clit was throbbing and pulsing, and my pussy cream had mingled with the milk to make my slit so slippery and juicy. I pressed two fingers around my clit, squeezing them together as I used my other hand to finger my hole, hard and fast.

I fantasized about being in a hayloft with a farmer, his cock slick with fresh milk as he pushed it inside me, parting me around his shaft. I got so wild I tipped the milk over when I reached to dip my finger in, spilling it onto the floor. Grabbing the cup, I poured the last drops onto my pussy, slapping my clit with wet fingers. I splashed the last of the milk onto my thighs, three fingers deep inside my pussy, fucking myself hard, bucking up and down. I had milk all over my crotch and thighs, matted in my pubes, running down my slit.

I pushed against my G-spot again, urging my body to cum, my thumb hammering against my clit while my fingers twisted around inside my hole. When I came, it was intense, my body thrashing on the bed as the spasms rocked me.

I lay there for a while, knowing I needed to clean up the spilt milk and then go take a shower. That image of the farmer fucking me with his big, slick cock had taken hold though, and in the end I had to grab my biggest dildo and ride it to another orgasm before I was ready to come down from my sexual high. Like I said, when an erotic impulse strikes me, I don’t fight it.

 

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