Milk the milkmaid

You're behind the busty worker now. It;s terrible, you know, but you just can't help yourself. Swiftly, you muster your courage and grab around her. You grab a hand onto each of her luscious tits. The girl cries out in surprise, but you don't stop. Her breasts feel wonderful, even through the cloth. You rub and squeeze, the soft, ample flesh flowing over your fingers. She breaks free from your grip and stands up, turning to face you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she yells, but she gasps when she sees your clothes, which signify your rank. She cuts a quick, humble bow. "I'm sorry milord, I wouldn't have snapped if I knew who you were. Please, forgive me. But I must ask, what were you doing to me?"

You can't help but blush. You really let your dick get the better of you. "I'm sorry too. It's just, well, you're so beautiful and I just couldn't help myself." She blushes now. "Oh milord, I understand. This isn't the first time my girls have gotten me into trouble." She giggles and shoots you a winning smile. You feel relieved that she isn't mad anymore, though a part of you feels she wouldn't be so understanding if you weren't rich and powerful. "Let's start over" you suggest. "Ok," she says, "I know who you are, so don't bother. If that's ok with you, milord. My name is Clare, I've worked here my whole life. I was born in the village here, and since my girlhood I've worked as a milkmaid. I just live with my family right now, me ma and da. I'm so happy to be working under a man such as you." She ends with a curtsy. Now that she has finished the formalities, she smiles seductively.

"I can't have you causing any more trouble, sir. Please, let me help you." Ending with the same smile, she works to undo the straps holding the front of her dress together. She finishes quickly, and the breasts you've so longed to see spill forth. Your mouth waters as you look at them. They are enormous, with bright pink nipples that beg you to lick them. They are wider than her back and go down to the arch in her rib-cage, sagging a bit from sheer weight. You step forward and cup them in your hands. Through the dress they felt amazing, but skin-to-skin contact puts it over the top. Clare giggles as you enjoy her body, and you start to lose track of time. Your pants feel a lot tighter than you remember.