Milking the Cow – Fetish

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Everything starts with good intentions, which is how I found myself stranded by the road with a broken Chevy pickup thirty miles west of Lincoln, Nebraska. I had flown into Chicago three days before to attend my brother’s second wedding. I had also arranged to buy his old pickup and drive it back home to Oregon as part of the trip – but the truck had other plans.

It was hot, clearly too hot for the radiator. I should have grabbed some water jugs, damn fool that I am. A relentless muggy heat emanated from the pavement, with an occasional car rushing by. The linear highway cut across great swaths of corn that covered the flat lands on either side, a sameness that surrounded me and began to make me anxious.

I wolfed down a granola bar, drained what was left of the cola I’d bought in Lincoln, and then decided to lock the truck up and walk a bit. I was pretty sure nobody driving by was gonna stop anytime soon. If there was any sort of cell service, I had no one to call anyway.

I decided to keep heading West, truck or not. I skirted alongside the highway, mindful of the traffic that roared by, seemingly oblivious. About half a mile into my walk, I came across a dirt road with a beaten-up, rusted mailbox hanging from a bent post. The dirt path proceeded back about two hundred yards, passing two ramshackle sheds on the left and a barn on the right, before ending up in front of a rustic worn farmhouse that had clearly seen many moons.

There didn’t appear to be anyone home, and no vehicles were parked anywhere in sight. I walked down the driveway slowly, trying to look friendly just in case someone was watching me with a shotgun – I’m paranoid like that. Just the same, I decided to take a chance, maybe discover a hose. It could be an excellent way to get shot, but the heat wasn’t helping me think like a rational man.

There was a rustle from within the barn, so I paused, then called out a tentative hello. After a moment, a young woman appeared from the back of the barn, slowly approaching me. She was no more than twenty-two but had hips that indicated she had already born at least one child. I thought if she had ever had a moment between losing her baby fat and gaining it back from motherhood.

That isn’t to say she was broken-looking, though. Her face was youthful, with sweet lips and a hint of mischief in her eyes. She brushed her hair back, and I took the opportunity to grab a quick view of her tits, clearly engorged and ballooning outward her top, the top ridge of a padded bra poking up above the neckline of her pale yellow v-necked t-shirt. Motherhood had accentuated her ass and thighs, her shapely curves constrained by a worn pair of jeans.

“Can I help you?” She kept her distance but softened as she sensed I wasn’t dangerous.

“My car broke down the road a bit, and I was hoping to get something to cart up a gallon or two of water. I think it might have just overheated. It’s damn hot out here.”

She looked at me a moment more. I did my best to keep eye contact, but we both knew I was scanning her breasts every chance I got. She didn’t seem to mind much, though.

“Ok, I’ve got to finish up with Lucille. I’ve got a couple of jugs you can have. Sorry, I can’t drive you back; my mother-in-law has Emily with her this morning, showing her off again. My husband is out of town with the truck this week.”

“No problem. I’m really grateful you can help me out. I don’t know how you can manage this heat.”

“Yeah, I can tell you aren’t from around here.” She sized me up a bit. “You look like you live in the West.”

“What gave it away? My drawl?”

“Yeah, you talk strange. Also, your hands look rough differently, maybe more ranch than the farm.” She turned to go back into the barn. As she didn’t indicate I should stay, I began to follow her. Keeping my distance, I surreptitiously watched the sway of her thighs as she walked into the barn. I felt my cock wake up a bit as I briefly imagined her ass bent over, her jeans and panties pulled down to her knees; what a sight that would be.

It took me a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness within the barn after the sun’s relentless glare. Towards the back was a small corral built into the corner, with a large white cow standing lethargically inside, a lazy gaze turned towards me.

“There’s Lucille. Gotta take care of her before she bursts.” The woman glanced at me and smiled quickly before glancing down at her bosom. “Grandma better get home soon with Emily before I burst too.”

“Is she your first child?”

“Yes, it’s all pretty new to me. I didn’t think I’d grow up to be on a farm, to be honest.”

“Oh, this isn’t your family farm?”

“No, it’s my husband’s parent’s place. I grew up in Lincoln and started Uni there, but I met Johnny there when I was a sophomore, and..” She trailed off. “Anyways, I’ve learned a lot, but I still get nervous around hoofs.”

She grabbed a small folding chair leaning against the corral rail and a large galvanized metal pail. I watched her bring them over slowly towards Lucille.

“I didn’t know that anyone still did this the old-fashioned way.”

She grimaced a bit. “It’s just milk for the family, mostly. Nothing here but corn. The family has always had a cow, so now I have a cow too.”

She gingerly grabbed a cow teat in each hand, then began to tug them downwards toward the pail. I positioned myself to better view her tits as she bent downward and rocked to and fro with each tug. Her jugs were gigantic and jiggled a bit with the rhythm of her pulls. Slowly, a small stream of milk began to ring into the pail.

“I’m not very good at this, but I promised them I would get better.” She looked up at me quickly before I could avert my eyes from staring down her shirt, the bulges pushing the fabric out like a pair of water balloons.

“Well, you are in luck, Mrs..?”

“Ashlynn Lee.”

“Well, Mrs. Lee, it’s been a bit, but I did spend a bit of time on a ranch back in my youth, and I can help you out if you like.”

“Oh my God, yes.” She quickly brought herself up from the chair, her tits briefly pressed against Lucille before they bounced back to their resting position as she stood.

I took her place on the small chair, patting Lucille as I did so. “Good girl, good girl..’ I rubbed my palms together and blew hot air into them.

“Gotta keep your hands warm to keep her comfortable.” I cooed quietly, feeling the beast relax a bit.

“Yes, cold hands aren’t very comfortable at all,” she said. I glanced at her, but if she was being suggestive, she quickly hid it. I returned to the task at hand, firmly grasping a teat in each hand, then slowly, I began to pull.

“Gentle, but firmer than you were doing if that makes sense.” As I quickened my pace, the milk began to stream loudly into the pail.

“I didn’t think the cow would like it rough; I guess I was wrong.” If she wasn’t trying to be suggestive, she was failing miserably. I felt the tip of my cock bounce up against my zipper.

I tried to focus back on the task at hand, pulling a bit faster now. My body flushed now that my cock was beginning to take control. Lucille’s udder began to swell a bit less now that the pail was half full, though my balls were starting to make up the difference in growth.

Ashlynn bent over my shoulder, her left tit crushed up against my right bicep as I milked Lucille. I noticed that the front of her shirt wrapped tight against her chest, and a sizable damp patch covered each nipple, soaking the tips of her cups. She realized I had seen it and blushed.

“I told you I was ready to burst. Watching Lucille let down made my girls want to do the same thing.”

My cock was fighting angrily against my pants, straining against the fabric. But I played it cool.

“I guess it was all in the technique.”

“Maybe. I’d like you to try your technique on me.” She looked around nervously, making sure Grandma wasn’t back with Emily, that Johnny wasn’t back unexpectedly from the road.” Then she looked back at me, smiled, and slowly pulled her soaked shirt off.

Though her padded bra clung to her tits, the fabric was drenched, and there were already small dribbles of white that drizzled down her belly. “Come over here and take this off for me.”

I got up from the stool, sure that my cock was visible from space, and awkwardly walked over to where she stood. I unhooked her bra as I silently estimated her before and after sizes. She was probably a 34D before the baby, but right now, they were a lot bigger than that.

Once I had the clasp unhooked, I slowly pushed her back up to the corral fence until she was braced. I pulled each bra strap down her shoulders until the straps lay across her lower arm. I slowly stripped her bra cups downwards. She moaned a bit as the cloth scraped down against her nipples until they finally popped out as the upper ridge of the bra cups slid below her breasts.

I gazed down, admiring the full extent of her rack. Each tit thrust forward, laden with milk, the round swells crashing together at the back of her chest, having no room to expand further. Each areola puffed outwards like a pale red hill as if pressed forward by the weight of the teat behind it. Upon each puffy hill lay a magnificently thick and round nipple, protruding outward and upward, peaking nearly an inch away from the rest of her tit.

Both of her nipples, now released from her undergarment, bubbled out a steady drip of milk, after which it briefly pooled in the bra cup resting below before disappearing into the drenched fabric. The cream circled down around the swollen areola, some drips falling down into the curved fabric, others tracing downwards around the swollen bottom of her tit, then down her belly, a small stream of pearl white droplets. I was briefly hypnotized by the dribble, watching the stream slowly work a path down her nipple.

She looked at me as I stared at her chest. “I clearly could use some help here.”

She raised her arms a bit so I could slide her bra off her body. I tossed the bra to the ground, where it landed with a wet thud into the dirty straw of the barn floor.

Her left tit seemed a bit firmer and fuller than her right, so I started there. I grasped the base of her boob with both hands, gently but firmly bringing my hands down the tit, working my way toward her nipple. She groaned as her tit began to push out multiple streams of milk, arcing out in a circular pattern, one of the streams catching me in the eye. I squinted as the warm liquid dripped down my face.

Her right nipple began to drip faster, responding to the attention I was giving the left. I grasped both tits and squeezed them together, forcing her right tit to begin streaming warm milk. She groaned as I kept her boobs pressed together, both nipples now fully active and spraying streams of white. I held her streaming like this a bit, relieving the pressure from her overfilled jugs. She closed her eyes and moaned as her tits began to empty.

Now that she had been drained to the point the weight of her breasts was no longer causing her pain, I decided to imbibe. I cupped my hands around her left mound behind the areola, then brought her tit up to my lips. I thrust her bubbling nipple between my teeth and began to suck her milk as it splashed against the roof of my mouth., She arched back, a shudder running through her body as I fed off her left tit. She filled my mouth faster than I could swallow, the faint sweetness of her milk running down my throat, some of her milk spilling from my mouth, back onto her tit, then down her belly, the tops of her jeans now a wet, dark blue from the voluminous streams that poured from both tits.

I switched my focus to her right side, now fully primed and pumping milk like a geyser. I hungrily took the tit into my mouth, filling my throat even faster than her left side had. She moaned and shook again, her whole body beginning to thrust back and forth. Then she pulled back, removing the nipple from my lips.

“Dirty boy, you are.” She massaged her chest, streams of milk bouncing up and down, spiraling in time with the rhythmic sway of her bouncing tits. She pushed me back a bit, then pressed her tits together, spraying my face with an gigantic gush of milk. By now, my drenched shirt clung to my chest, and I was pretty sure there was a wet stain on my jeans. The head of my cock was throbbing against the denim, barely restraining it.

I stripped off my jeans and boxers, my cock flying out of my pants, lunging up towards her. She directed her tits downward and squeezed them together, drenching my dick with a shower of white. Once my cock was flooded, she stooped over, bringing me into her mouth, and licking her milk off my balls. She repeated this as I stood there while a puddle of milk pooled between my legs, swallowing my cock, then milking herself onto me again.

After a bit, I gently pushed her back up against the corral rail, then unbuttoned the top of her drenched jeans. I grabbed the cloth of the waistband, then brought her jeans down her thighs, just below her knees. My hands wandered back to the pink cotton panties covering her muff. The cotton was now translucent, soaked with milk from her top half and her pussy juice from below. I slowly stripped her panties down, then knelt in front of her, watching the white rivulets stream down from her nipples. Milk followed the contour of her body, slowed a bit by the hair of her muff, then disappeared into the folds of her cunt.

I hungrily spread her pussy lips with my tongue, tasting the salt of her snatch and the sweetness of her milk mixed together. She moaned as my tongue spread her hood, then explored her swollen clit. Her nipples dripped quicker now, her jugs shaking as she contracted her thighs around my face, then cried out as she came, crushing her cunt into my mouth, her pussy lips slicking my face with her cum.

She pushed me back, then collapsed to the ground, placing her crumpled jeans beneath her ass, her back up against the pen. I let her catch her breath as I stroked my cock, savoring the juices of her cunt on my tongue.

I walked over towards Lucille, then picked up the pail of warm cow milk. I brought the bucket over towards Ashlynn, placing it down near her.

“I want you to get on your knees and hands.”

She briefly showed alarm, then smiled at me. She pushed herself up from the ground, then bent over to pick up her jeans. I watched her bend over to arrange the jeans back onto the barn floor, admiring the view as she smoothed the denim with her hands. She knelt down, placing her knees onto the pant legs and her hands down onto the straw spread across the dirt floor, her udders swinging as she positioned herself downward.

“A little low. Raise your chest a bit.”

She complied, and I moved the pail of cow’s milk just below her pendulous tits. I raised her up until the pail captured both dribbling streams bubbling out of her nipples, her milk mixing into Lucille’s, the plonking sound of the drips not unlike a broken faucet. I listened to the drops a bit, then knelt down again. I grabbed the pail and moved it a bit to the right, then grabbed the base of her right tit and hauled it away from her left, then guided her down so that I could dunk the tit into the pail of milk. I raised her up, then repeated the procedure on the left side so that both her tits were fully coated in white, the milk now dripping back into the pail on the ground below.

Now I knelt down on her left side, awkwardly crouching with my dick hard as a beam. I circled the base of her left tit with both hands, then slowly and firmly worked my hands down towards the nipple. Once I had spent a bit of time on the left side, I cupped a palmful of milk from the pail and moistened my cock, then switched over to her other side and worked on her right tit, gently pushing her milk out her engorged nipple, a shower of white joining the milky sea below. The dribble turned into seven sharp streams that splashed into the pail. Ashlynn groaned as I drained her tit.

A sudden wondered of Grandma and Emily crossed my mind. I was living on borrowed time, and I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to go anywhere until my balls were drained. I moved her and the pail once more so that the bucket captured all her dripping milk, then stood up, repositioning myself behind her.

Her rounded ass rose up in the air, young and plump. Her slit opened invitingly, surrounded by her chubby open pussy lips. The head of my cock strained forward towards her hole, and with one quick thrust, I was inside her snatch, and on the second thrust, I was balls deep. Her cunt shuddered around me as I plunged deep into her, holding her ass as I rode her. She was surprisingly tight even after childbirth, and I envied her husband getting the snug ride before the baby came along.

I could have blown at any time, but I wanted to do it right. I calmed myself down and focused on slow, deep thrusts that I could control. I steadily rode her cunny until she came again, shrieking as her box clamped me deep inside.

Once her cunt released me, I pulled out of her. I kept her on her knees as I retrieved the pail, still capturing her milk as it sprayed from her swinging tits. I placed myself back behind her with the bucket.

“Ok, spread your pussy as wide as possible for me.”

She obliged me, placing her head down on the hay as she reached behind her with both hands, spreading her cunt as wide as feasible. Her slit opened into a dark cavern that dropped deep inside her.

I gently tilted the pail and began to fill her cunt with the warm milk, both hers and Lucille’s. The white liquid burbled up and out of her, streaming down around her pussy lips and ass, rivers of white streaming down her thighs, dripping off the hair of her muff. Once her snatch was as full as it could take, I sat down the pail, propping her ass up to keep her cunt as full as feasible.

With a ferocious lunge, I plunged my cock back into her. Milk poured out of her around me, drenching my balls as I plundered her canal. She screamed as I pressed the milk out of her twat as she grasped dirt and straw between her fingers. I could hold no longer, and I emptied myself deep into the milky recesses of her snatch, clutching her hips as I filled her full of cum.

I rested against her for a minute as I felt my cock slowly reduce inside her. I pulled out, then retrieved my briefs, jeans, and shirt. I put my clothes on as she slowly recovered her panties, dirty and soaked bra, and wet jeans. She gathered them together, then sweetly smiled at me.

“On your way out, you see a hose at the back of the first shed. You can get some water for your car there.”

She looked towards Lucille.

“Have a good trip to wherever you are going to, Mister. I better clean up, and it looks like I will have to milk Lucille again.”

I wandered back up the dirt road, stopping by the shed. A pile of buckets and containers was strewn around the tap, so I took two small dusty gray plastic buckets and filled them with water. I trudged back to the car, sweating and sticky from the sun and the sex. As I was filling my radiator twenty minutes later, I watched as Grandma’s car turned down the little dirt road, and then I was on my way.

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