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Udders, hucows, mating and milking

NYTimesBest said:
i've had real life hucow experiences. they are the hottest!

there's a ton of women who are into it but don't want to admit it. they like to feel their udders fill with tasty milke, and get so swollen and sore they need to be pumped daily.

and it turns them on when you reward them with all that pumping, and then it is time to breed them. so you get them on all 4's with a buttplug in their ass (preferably with a tail), and a cowbell around their neck. and you pump them vigorously with a very hard bone, making sure to get in nice and deep while they say 'moo' for you and say what a good farmer you are.

then, as you hear their cowbell clanging while they are being bred, whether or not they want it, you have to explode inside them with all that juice, making sure they get bred nice and good like a good hucow is meant to be. and they love it.

that was my experience, it was awesome. i'm trying to get a whole herd together so they help each other milk and stuff.
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That is so hot, I'd love to have an experience like that.
 
jakelc said:
That is so hot, I'd love to have an experience like that.
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yes, it was great. I also had her on a leash too and had her drinking from a dish on the floor. i didn't have the setup to really use her as a cow better, but would have preferred to hook her to a leg spreader, tied and helpless so i could take her anytime i wanted and she would be only able to sit there with her udders hanging down, being milked very hard, and fucked like a true cow should be.

it's the best experience ever, and best when the cow likes you to suck her nipples very hard and get all her precious milk flowing out, so you can nurse on her udders several times a day and she produces a lot of milk. if you ever have a chance to do this, jump on it. if you're really lucky, you may find one who will let you brand them as you ball-gag them too. i haven't gotten there yet, but want to try.
 
ErectDesire said:
It would be nice if these women started to admit it; love to know if they are really into it. Any stories on Lit that deal with this?
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The whole idea has a certain dark appeal; whether i would go through if the chance was offered is a different question
 
ErectDesire said:
Following dark appeals usually have a huge arousal factor. I wonder what you think would happen? What do your breasts want?
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How True! Inducing lactating in its own right offers erotic sensations has a definite overtone of submission. The addition of a bovine aspect could add to both the eroticism and the sense of submission.
 
ErectDesire said:
followmenow6969 - keep us posted if this is a pleasurable experience for you, that is production. Many other pleasures to follow.:)
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I did it years go when I was living with several GFs after college but my tits seem to be getting fuller and leaking I want that steady flow
 
Wow!! I love these pics!! I love sucking on s women's tits when they are lactating, it is a real turn on!! Would live to find some one to share that fantasy with!! Anyone in Portland area up for it?
 
Is there anyone on this thread actually into the hucow culture? Anyone who has a hucow? If so, check in with me.
 
MaddysSecret said:
Is there anyone on this thread actually into the hucow culture? Anyone who has a hucow? If so, check in with me.
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I'm totally into it. I don't have one now, but did in the past. It was the most fun I think i've ever had. I can't wait to get another hucow.
 
Himself128 said:
I have known a couple of women who have wanted to be milked and I have read that there are people considering a hucow farm. But frankly it seems unlikely. I do enjoy watching women get milked by machines and you can find the vids....I assume you have seen them. Like you I like seeing nipples lengthened and the concept of breeding.

Have you considered a story about this topic. I would love to do one that could be somewhat believable. Any ideas
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I'm not sure which of the "topics" you want to hear a story about, so I don't know if this qualifies:

In reality my wife is eye-candy, petite, tautly curvy and has been that way, she says, since she began developing at about 9 years old. She has nearly black hair, cinnamon colored skin and, at times, dark red, almost black nipples. I loved her breasts before pregnancy. I lovingly watched their changes during pregnancy. From comparatively virgin, small buds, her areolas became looser, broader and darker; her nipples lengthened and, for me, almost impossible to believe, her breasts swelled to be both youthfully high again but at the same time more maturely full.

But then, our baby was born, and I became obsessively fascinated by her milk. And . . . I discovered how high, tight and sometimes painfully full her breasts became in the early morning. I loved her more for them.

Not just anyone's milk, but HER milk. And not just by the sight of her breasts, but by how other men (and women) looked at her. Even in the kitchen, while she prepared a meal, I'd come up between her and the sink, nod up under her blouse or t-shirt, and while she did her best to stir, rinse or carve, nuzzle between her breasts and then suck on a nipple, then the other, drawing the nipple into my throat and as much of her breast as I could into my mouth.

One morning, sitting across from her, I asked her to push back the chair, stand and lean over toward me. I pulled her t-shirt from her shorts and tucked it up above her breasts. I milked her into my coffee. She was astonished and delighted, blushing and smiling at me as with both hands I drew her milk through toward her nipples. Careful not to squeeze them, I let her letdown do all the work. Streams came, some of them wetting the tablecloth. But the sizzle into the slowly diluting coffee of the principal ones I aimed, aroused me so much my hands were shaking.

I loved it the two times our best friend came over and I encouraged my wife to add her milk to his coffee right at the table. The first time, his eyes almost popped out. The second time, I'm now sure he had been thinking about it, anticipating it. One of the first things he shyly said was, "I hope you've got some of that delicious coffee ready!"

That time he watched. No, stared . . . hungrily, I'd say. His mouth was slightly ajar and I saw he had difficulty breathing. My wife blushed with pleasure. Although it didn't seem possible, I was sure her breasts swelled even more than the usual early morning engorgement. She took some time getting them to flow. At first, they were so tight, so full, that even stroking forward, she produced only a few palely milky drops. Then little geysers appeared, so thin you could see the individual droplets in stream as they arced onto the tablecloth, the cup and her forearm. Finally, when the letdown came, she had to lean far forward, so close to his cup, that in trying to make all the streams into the coffee, her nipple was level with the lip of the cup and so close to the surface of the steaming liquid, that the thicker streams made a deep pock in the surface as the coffee went from black to mud, to tan. At one point she looked up and asked him, "Is that enough?" and all he answered was, "Never."

She blushed, her smile so broad it lit her eyes, and we saw that suddenly her letdown came in spate―a thick stream gurgling, little, forcibly directed ones sizzling into the coffee, then rising as her letdown increased to spatter the tablecloth.

I leaned from where I sat beside her, and caught up the free, sympathetically dribbling nipple in my mouth. I couldn't swallow fast enough. So I did the same as when I try to chug down a beer: opened my throat, let it fill, and held my breath. I turned her to me. I felt spray from the other breast on my cheek, opened an eye, and saw that, in turning, all the milk from the other breast was then spraying the plates, silverware and tablecloth.

With one hand I beckoned our friend to come to us. When he pulled up a chair close to hers on the other side of me, I pulled his shoulder to bring him down to her breast. He and I have both done this once more, just recently. She masturbated him while we sucked.
 
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Meringue said:
Holy jeebus, this thread. :heart:

*fans herself*

My personal lactation fetish has usually been in the context of a dominant role. Not whips and chains but more a maternal power where feeding a person from my body is an expression of nurturing and control. While I've never been really aroused by the "treated like an animal" thing, I do like the elements of some science fiction ideas like a secret government breeding facility or a dystopian/utopian future where some women are chosen to be brood mothers for one species or another. In that context, the machines and ritual of breeding are just... mmf.
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HOT!!! :D:D:D:rose:
 
MilkFountain said:
I'm not sure which of the "topics" you want to hear a story about, so I don't know if this qualifies:

In reality my wife is eye-candy, petite, tautly curvy and has been that way, she says, since she began developing at about 9 years old. She has nearly black hair, cinnamon colored skin and, at times, dark red, almost black nipples. I loved her breasts before pregnancy. I lovingly watched their changes during pregnancy. From comparatively virgin, small buds, her areolas became looser, broader and darker; her nipples lengthened and, for me, almost impossible to believe, her breasts swelled to be both youthfully high again but at the same time more maturely full.

But then, our baby was born, and I became obsessively fascinated by her milk. And . . . I discovered how high, tight and sometimes painfully full her breasts became in the early morning. I loved her more for them.

Not just anyone's milk, but HER milk. And not just by the sight of her breasts, but by how other men (and women) looked at her. Even in the kitchen, while she prepared a meal, I'd come up between her and the sink, nod up under her blouse or t-shirt, and while she did her best to stir, rinse or carve, nuzzle between her breasts and then suck on a nipple, then the other, drawing the nipple into my throat and as much of her breast as I could into my mouth.

One morning, sitting across from her, I asked her to push back the chair, stand and lean over toward me. I pulled her t-shirt from her shorts and tucked it up above her breasts. I milked her into my coffee. She was astonished and delighted, blushing and smiling at me as with both hands I drew her milk through toward her nipples. Careful not to squeeze them, I let her letdown do all the work. Streams came, some of them wetting the tablecloth. But the sizzle into the slowly diluting coffee of the principal ones I aimed, aroused me so much my hands were shaking.

I loved it the two times our best friend came over and I encouraged my wife to add her milk to his coffee right at the table. The first time, his eyes almost popped out. The second time, I'm now sure he had been thinking about it, anticipating it. One of the first things he shyly said was, "I hope you've got some of that delicious coffee ready!"

That time he watched. No, stared . . . hungrily, I'd say. His mouth was slightly ajar and I saw he had difficulty breathing. My wife blushed with pleasure. Although it didn't seem possible, I was sure her breasts swelled even more than the usual early morning engorgement. She took some time getting them to flow. At first, they were so tight, so full, that even stroking forward, she produced only a few palely milky drops. Then little geysers appeared, so thin you could see the individual droplets in stream as they arced onto the tablecloth, the cup and her forearm. Finally, when the letdown came, she had to lean far forward, so close to his cup, that in trying to make all the streams into the coffee, her nipple was level with the lip of the cup and so close to the surface of the steaming liquid, that the thicker streams made a deep pock in the surface as the coffee went from black to mud, to tan. At one point she looked up and asked him, "Is that enough?" and all he answered was, "Never."

She blushed, her smile so broad it lit her eyes, and we saw that suddenly her letdown came in spate―a thick stream gurgling, little, forcibly directed ones sizzling into the coffee, then rising as her letdown increased to spatter the tablecloth.

I leaned from where I sat beside her, and caught up the free, sympathetically dribbling nipple in my mouth. I couldn't swallow fast enough. So I did the same as when I try to chug down a beer: opened my throat, let it fill, and held my breath. I turned her to me. I felt spray from the other breast on my cheek, opened an eye, and saw that, in turning, all the milk from the other breast was then spraying the plates, silverware and tablecloth.

With one hand I beckoned our friend to come to us. When he pulled up a chair close to hers on the other side of me, I pulled his shoulder to bring him down to her breast. He and I have both done this once more, just recently. She masturbated him while we sucked.
Click to expand...

Now that right there is fucking hot
 
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