Centaur Erotica: Becoming The Centaur's Wenches (Taboo Hucow FFM Step Threesome Pregnancy Historical Erotic Romance)
Copyright © Daisy N. Chains
All Rights Reserved Worldwide.
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted as engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years old, and not blood related. This story contains explicit material.
By
Daisy N. Chains
Me and my stepmom had flown in to Athens the night before. Neither of us had ever been to Greece, and we were both weary after the long flight, eager to take it easy, unwind and explore the breathtaking city. This was a vacation we both needed.
It was a fine day, a unique feel of European summertime and a severely necessary break from the worries of work and day to day life. Especially for her. Being middle-aged and having a baby must take its toll, and she handled it very gracefully. But I could tell she needed this more than I did.
During our stroll down the narrow, enchanting backstreets she turned to me, with a slight look of concern in her eye. "Do you think my baby will be okay without me? I mean... maybe I should have stayed. Maybe it's too soon to be apart from her..."
I offered a comforting smile. "Of course she'll be fine, Mom. Dad is there, obviously, and you know he's great with kids. Look, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. So just relax and let's enjoy ourselves."
My attempt to soothe her must have worked, for she beamed back at me, and chuckled. "You're right, Annie. Sorry. I won't mention it again."
It undoubtedly was a remarkable city, and we were grateful to be there, soaking it all in. A place for art, studying and philosophy, Athens is known as the birthplace of Western culture and democracy, mostly because of the influence of its social and governmental accomplishments on the rest of Europe. Earlier in the afternoon we had indulged ourselves in the modern metropolis, but now we wanted to explore the real Athens, and get away from the busy hubbub of the central area. So, we roamed the backstreets.
It felt eerily quiet. The breeze blew through the hot summer air. There was nothing else. No laughing children playing ball in the street. No constant sound of cars as they frantically zoomed down the highway to places unknown.
For 41, my stepmom, or just Mom as I called her, looked great. She had done a phenomenal job at keeping herself in shape, especially after her recent childbirth. A lingerie model in her heyday, she sported abundant curves and perfect snow-white skin. Dark wavy hair fell to her shoulders and framed a pretty face, set with bright blue eyes and full pink lips. Her breasts resembled two planets, which hung firm and solid when supported by one of her tasteful tops. Her legs were long, with thick thighs, and I had always thought to myself that if I looked half as good as she did when I reached her age, I'd be very happy. My Dad was a lucky guy, and he knew it.
We paused for a moment, and I gazed up to admire the magnificent architecture of the yellowish-bricked buildings.
"I'm just going to have a wander down here, Annie," my mom said. "Catch up with you in a sec."
"Sure, Mom," I replied, thinking nothing of it. The narrow streets were empty. It felt like a ghost town, so it would be very easy to find each other again. Or so I thought.
But a couple of minutes later, when I strolled down the path that my mom had taken, she was nowhere to be seen. I didn't panic. I figured she must've just popped into a nearby cafe of postcard shop for a moment. But the downtown part of the city that we were in was very un-touristy. There were no shops or restaurants in sight, just narrow path after narrow path, surrounded by very tall, old buildings. Homes, I guess. Looking around, all the shutters were closed on the windows and the big, sturdy wooden doors were shut.
Now starting to get slightly anxious, I quickened my pace. "Mom? Moooooom!" I called out. I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, as I started to feel like I was alone—truly alone—on the outskirts of this huge, suddenly ominous city.
The further I walked, the more I wondered where my mom had got to. I prayed she was alright. I turned around, and discovered I had no idea where I was—I mean, I knew I was in Athens, but all the narrow lanes looked identical, all the buildings a similar color. I took a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. I knew my mom couldn’t be too far, because it had only been about ten minutes since we parted ways, but I couldn't for the life of me get a bearing on my surroundings. It was like I was in some sort of maze, some otherworldly different dimension.
I looked up. The sky was still bright blue, without a cloud in sight, but I could sense evening was nearing. I listened. But all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing, the wind blowing and my pounding heart. I was desperate to hear something that would help get rid of the feeling of uncertainty. I held my breath a moment. But nothing.
I began to get the strangest feeling—almost as though I was dreaming. But I knew I wasn't. Maybe that was just my subconscious' way of comforting me.
I carried on walking. Although previously there had been forks in the road, I was somewhat relieved to see that now, there was just one lane. One narrow, winding, bendy path. This took all the guesswork out of it for me. Surely, all I had to do was follow this lane, and wherever it took me, would be where my mom was.
But the further I walked the darker the daylight became, until I found myself feeling truly engulfed in the shadows of the buildings, as if the city had swallowed me up and I was a tiny morsel that this living, breathing city was toying with.
Miraculously, as I turned the next corner, the path opened up before me. Everything seemed wider, more normal, as I laid my anxious eyes on the ruin that stood before me.
It was some sort of castle—well, it used to be a castle, because the sands of time had had their way with the ancient building—and now, it was a shell of its former self. Half broken down, the large bricks that used to make up its walls were incomplete, with huge gaps everywhere. There was no roof or ceiling anymore, and as I stepped through where the door used to be and into the rubble-strewn ruin, it felt as though as I was still outside.
From across the large empty room I saw her—my mom—and the sudden relief I felt that I would soon be reunited with her was almost instantly replaced with a dark feeling of concern. For yes, there she was, but she was in a most peculiar predicament. And she was not alone.
She was on her hands and knees on the stony floor, her full lactating breasts unleashed from their harness, out and hanging free below her. On either side of her stood two dwarf girls dressed in maid's outfits, who must have been about eighteen years old, a couple of years younger than me. Underneath each of my mom's breasts was a metal bucket, and my mom was—I know this sounds shocking, but she was being milked like a dairy cow.
Each dwarf girl had an erect nipple in hand, pulling and yanking on my mom's breasts expertly, as if this was completely normal for them. They really had a good, rhythmical pull going, squeezing her nipples tightly and milking them downwards like udders.
I stood, still unseen by the three of them, frozen on the spot, scared stiff. I wondered why the hell my mom had allowed herself to be put in this predicament, I mean, these girls were tiny, surely she could've easily got away from them. But what I saw next answered my question, and I understood why she couldn't escape. At least not yet.
In walked, or I should say trotted, the Centaur. Now, I know this sounds unrealistic, but he honestly did. You can ask my mom of you don't believe me.
He looked powerful and amazing. His human head and face was handsome and dashing, his upper body ripped and lean. His waist blended seamlessly with his h
orse's body, the chestnut colored fur covering the muscular back and four hoofed legs. The mythological creature seemed to be caught between the two natures, embodied in contrasting myths, both as the embodiment of untamed nature, and the vision of legend that stood tall before me. He looked dominant and assertive, but at the same time had the dark, thoughtful eyes of a poet.
The two dwarf girls continued milking for a little while longer. Jets of creamy, pure milk flowed from my mom's ample bosoms and into the awaiting buckets, little speckles of white splashing up and hitting her in the face. She seemed remarkably cooperative, as if under some sort of spell, as she fearlessly took the human milking without even muttering a complaint.
He raised his hand, and the two dwarf girls stopped immediately, mid-squeeze, and looked up at their master. It was as if they had done this for him many times before, and it was merely common practice.
They both stood at the same time, and one walked around my mom to get closer to the other. She tipped her bucketful into the other's bucket, mixing both breast's loads. One of them skipped up to the Centaur, and handed the bucket to him, before curtsying cutely. The Centaur nodded his head, as if dismissing them, and they skipped off, through a rubble-scattered doorway and into the depths of the ruin.
His gaze lingered on my mom's fat lactating tits, before holding the metal bucket above his head at arm's length. He opened his mouth, and began to pour. The breast milk poured out at a perfect diagonal angle and right down the Centaur's gullet. Away he swallowed, his glugs audible across the large remains of the room in which we stood. He paused, his eyes closed, seeming somewhat satisfied, and appeared to be enjoying the creamy nourishment that had been hand-produced for him.
Up until this point I had remained unseen, the room vast enough and the shadows dark enough so that I could watch in amazement. But with his eyes still closed, I knew that this was the opportunity I needed, so I took it.
"Hey," I whispered. "Psssssssssst. Mom."
She heard me and looked up, and in that brief moment of eye-contact, I could see the relief and joy on her face. She was happy to see me, although also maybe slightly embarrassed, as her heaving mammaries swung pendulously beneath her.
This moment of hope was to be short-lived however, because as I looked up at the man-beast, my heart nearly jumped up into my throat. His eyes were now open, and he was staring straight at me, his gaze enchanting and almost hypnotic.
I then knew why my mom had had such a hard time leaving. There was something about him, his chiselled features, his deep brown eyes. His expression told a thousand tales, of battles won and lost, of war and peace, of nature and magic. He galloped over to where I stood, shaking and transfixed. He rounded me up as if he were a sheepdog and I was merely a simple sheep, lost and alone on a highland moor.
As he marched me over to where my mom now kneeled, I couldn’t help but smell his animalistic odour as it blew through the warm air, and it tingled my nostrils, an unexplainable half-nice half-nasty aroma that subtly began to excite and captivate me.
I felt my panties dampening, a genuine craving coming from between my legs that transcended into tingles that shot up through my entire body like a mild electric shock. I knelt beside my mom, and the Centaur turned around and backed up, like a car being put in reverse. His tail swung as his hoofed feet stepped nearer, until we were mere inches away from the fuzzy man-imal's hind legs.
From within short tufts of brown hair, I became terribly aware of something expanding. An exceptional, huge erection of amazing specifications—an unthinkable penis that extended like a thick black cucumber. Our eyes dilated as we examined it, as if handling so much pork would be an impossibility.
"Jesus. Fucking. Christ." Said my mom. And I was inclined to agree with her.
It was an enormous pledge of fun and agony, and it was time to experience it.
"It's big," I said.
"It's... ridiculously enormous," my mom corrected me.
A silent understanding passed between us and in unison we opened our mouths and obtained a substantial Greek testicle each. The Centaur's balls were fuzzy and full, not dissimilar to large kiwis. They were big, make no mistake about it, but we gave it our all. Our duelling tongues flicked across the skin, making the Centaur's hooves stomp as his tail swayed between us. He snorted in elation, a sound that encouraged us greatly, and he widened his stance slightly, allowing us to really get our eager faces into the crevice between his strong thighs. The downy fuzz on his legs tickled our cheeks, but it felt warm and pleasant, as we continued to suck his nuts in earnest.
We both went in fast sequence between tonguing and suctioning, washing the big balls with our mouths, while I felt a pulse in my pussy. My mom, whose mouth was wider than mine, was in a good position to take her half of the bundle in her mouth entirely, and she fostered the orb inside her pie-hole. Expertly using her teeth, she delicately dragged them along the skin, tantalizing and torturing the Centaur in ways he’d probably never felt before.
While watching Mom suck a nut, I had been gazing longingly at the wild dick that had been growing inch by inch before us. I gripped it, squeezed it, pulled on it—I don't mind admitting that I never wanted to set it free. My other hand joined the first, and both my arms worked overtime, pumping the massive shaft downwards in a vigorous motion, milking the randy Centaur's cock like an overloaded teat, as my mom continued to gobble sack.
Seeing my intent to work the pole, my mom decided she wanted to join me. So, she forced herself away from the Centaur's testicles, lowered her head, opened her mouth as wide as she could, and attempted to suck his cock. She had no choice but to elongate her lips as wide as feasible to even wedge a tiny fraction of the monstrous meat into her mouth, but amazingly, and with an encouraging head-nudge from me, she was able to slip the tip inside, and away she sucked. Her eyes watered, and I could tell from her expression that it tasted good, but perhaps slightly salty. Now that his balls were set loose, I focused my attention back to licking them, and I stretched my neck upward into a more effective position to make certain that I could satisfy every last millimetre. Meanwhile, Mom was still wrestling with the first couple of inches of the centaur's penis, as she breathed heavily beside me.
What happened next is not something that I am particularly proud of, if I'm being honest. But, it happened, so I will share it with you today.
Mom was doing a great job at taking the meat into her gullet inch by inch—I could tell it was a struggle but she seemed to battle on fearlessly, crouched down with her head tilted upward, spluttering and almost choking, but incredibly making his ridiculous cock disappear into her mouth.
I stopped licking his balls for a moment, and there before me I was presented with my mom's fat milky tits, still out, and jiggling in front of me enticingly. Dear readers, it had been a long day, much of the afternoon had been spent walking and exploring—we hadn't even stopped for a drink to quench our thirst and gather our thoughts. So, without warning I bowed my head and took Mom's left nipple in my mouth, and began to suck. It was erect, and tasted rubbery but sweet, and as I sucked it like a baby's bottle, the nourishment that was hidden in her mighty mammaries started to flow. The dwarf babes hadn’t quite emptied them, and spurt by spurt the thick, creamy milk sprayed into my mouth and down my throat, and away I glugged. The long moan she emitted told a thousand words, so I moved onto her right breast. Here, I nuzzled intently, with the keen objective to extract as much as I could. Once more, the white milk flowed like a delicious stream, into my mouth and down my throat, and I gulped it down with gusto.
I raised my head from my mom's lactating nipple to take a deep breath, and as I did so the Centaur's musky aroma filled my senses. There was something about his ancient scent that affected me in a way I was not used to, for the more I sniffed the more my shaven pussy moistened. It must have been having the same effect on my mom too, for she had managed to prize herself away from the straining shaft and was now rubbing her damp panties with her fingers, her skirt hitc
hed up and a lustful glint in her eyes. I followed suit, and brazenly hitched up my skirt and started to dally, my fingers on the thin cotton of my panties providing just the right amount of pressure to satisfy me momentarily. It was enough for those few brief seconds, but ultimately I needed more—a lot more.
As my mom stepped out of the way, I pulled my knickers down, delved two fingers inside myself and got on all fours beneath the mythological monster, my bare rump presented to him like a bitch in heat. The Centaur's stance was wide enough so he could mount me there and then, his huge frame enveloping me as I felt his soft fur against the small of my back. Yes, I was slick, I was wet, I felt ready, but god knows I needed a helping hand if I was going to attempt to take this humungous dick inside me.
Needless to say, my mom provided the help I needed, lining up the lubricated cock with my awaiting pussy. She directed the huge head into my frustrated hole, spitting on the girth and offering words of encouragement as she popped the head inside. From here, the Centaur took the metaphorical reins, bucking his hips and spearing me with every last inch. It was a combination of pleasure and pain that I didn't think was possible—taking something of this sheer size inside me was, in itself, an achievement. The Centaur humped me rhythmically, his heavy balls banging against my clit with every thrust and making me scream at the top of my lungs.
Mom slid her skirt and knickers down, uncovering plump, wide thighs and a trimmed pussy. I had occasionally thought about what my stepmom looked like nude, and now I gazed at the soft dark triangle that made up the enchanting place between her legs. She lay down in front of me, the Centaur's front hooves providing the support she needed as she clutched them tightly and spread her legs. While the Centaur fucked me steadily, I let my hands tickle up the inside of her soft thighs and onto and over the gateway to that special passage.
As her breasts wobbled before me, Mom said, "Lick me Annie. Lick me good."