Little Missy’s surprised to be offered dessert after breakfast, but every drink of milk tastes better with a splash of cream.
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What is Little Missy getting into now? Have a sneak peek, too naughty for Amazon!
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Daddy has cows, but they’re a sideline, if you know what I
mean. Daddy’s guests are mostly men who want to suckle milk straight from the
Dairy Maid. Most of them don’t care about being littles, they just like the
milk, and the containers it comes in. I call all of the dairy maids my aunties,
and they help Daddy take care of me. Especially Auntie Patti, who hugs me into
those giant warm breasts and puts a kiss on top of my head.
Auntie Patti makes a lot of milk in those boobies. So far
I’ve had all my drinks in a cup or a bottle, when she pumps it out for me,
because Daddy hasn’t give me permission to suck from her nipples. But I want
to.
My own titties are little, barely filling an AA cup. But the
rest of my frame is small, bigger breasts would look odd on me. My hips are so
narrow Daddy can dress me in the large toddler sized diaper, and he does, every
morning and whenever I need to be changed. Thirty-three is only a bad dream
here—I’m a little and can leave my grown-up cares behind.
This morning Daddy got me ready for breakfast, with my
brunette hair in pigtails with blue bows and a matching blue dress that left my
legs mostly bare. I went to add my pink jelly shoes so we could walk to the
dining hall, an outbuilding down the hill from the old white farmhouse, but
Daddy said, “You don’t need those, Missy.”
“I don’t?” The path to the dining hall was gravel. With
stickers.
“Auntie Patti’s waiting for you,” he explained. “You’ve been
such a good girl, she’s going to give you breakfast.”
“Oh!” I squealed. I had no idea!
He ushered me down the hall, the worn Axminster runner
scratchy under my toes, and into his bedroom. I was only invited into his bedroom
for special occasions, like a nap on the day I arrived. Daddy’s king-sized four
poster bed dominated the room, the pineapples on the posts higher than my head.
His blue patchwork quilt lay smooth over the mattress, and the pillows had all
been fluffed.
Auntie Patti held her arms out to me. “Good morning, Missy.
Are you hungry?”
I ran to her, burying my face in her voluptuous chest.
“Yes!”
Her breasts were rock hard, full of the milk she was going
to give me. Her white peasant shirt had a stretchy neckline to make feeding
easy, and the lace of her bra cups made texture in the fine cotton. She wore a
medium blue gingham checked skirt, but she might be graduating into dark blue
soon, from the way her tits stood proud on her chest, they had to have close to
nine ounces of milk in each one. I glanced back at Daddy, who lounged in the
doorway.
Auntie Patti made a backrest of the pillows. I knelt on the
bed, trying not to bounce in my excitement, while she uncovered her massive
mounds. The white peasant shirt had to stretch a lot to unveil her breasts,
still captive in pink lace. She unfastened the clasp at her breastbone, and let
her milky boobies out.
Such beautiful nipples on such huge hills! Her areolas set
at the peaks of her breasts, with large brown nipples jutting from the centers.
Little crinkles dimpled the brown circles, and her nipples poked out, so firm.
Meant for a mouth to suckle, those nipples, and Daddy had given me permission.
White beads grew at the tips—Auntie Patti was letting down for me.
She stretched her legs out on the bed, smoothing her skirt
down to her knees, and leaned against the pillows. With one hand, she offered me her enormous
breast. “Come drink, Missy.”
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