She lay on her back and pulled me onto her. She was more forward than she had been when we first met, now she knew how much I enjoyed prodding her she...was up for it morning, noon, and night. As she admitted to me, she was always willing but her body sometimes needed a break. So she got another dose of sperm and I thought that if she wasn’t pregnant by now then my alien friends hadn’t done their job on me very well.That evening therefore Avril felt guilty at insisting on being present, I smiled. "Oh, God," I moaned in shocked delight, slumping back against the door to the little bathroom as she began a steady bobbing motion with her head. I had lusted after this girl for years, watching her grow up from a nymph to a slut before my very eyes as she visited our house almost nightly. And here she was, at last, sucking my cock for all she was worth.My little Sister, for her part, chuckled low in her throat, a sound far too sexy to come from my innocent little Sister, I thought, and wobbled. Someone went and got the latex suit and made me put it back on.I was a completely anonymous sex object again, a body in black latex with nothing to identify it except two huge titties hanging free between its elbows. Peter opened the suitcase and removed a metal box, some tubes, and cups. Nipple cups. A milking machine. A farm implement, I'd seen it before. The gentle milking action most mothers were familiar with was nothing like this device. Nothing at all. This was industrial strength, this. This began with the end of the Seven Years' War, known in the United States as the French and Indian War, in 1763. At war's end, the British Government decided the British Colonies in North America should help defray the cost of their security and began passing an number of direct taxes on the colonies, culminating in a tax on tea. In protest, the colonists dumped shiploads of tea into Boston Harbor, claiming the taxes illegal since they were unrepresented in Parliament and therefore not given.