To print this page, use your browser's "print" button. Then click back to return to the site.


Dairy Farm Hand

I recently ran into Ms. Vande at the supermarket. I hadn't seen her in ten years or more. The last time I saw her was the summer I went away to college.

Ten years ago I worked at Ms. Vande's dairy farm. It was a small operation and she had a small number of cows, calves, and other livestock. She also grew some crops for the local farmers' market.

Ms. Vande was a divorced older woman. She was very sweet and kind. Unfortunately she was a bit older and plain. Not to say that she didn't clean up nice, but when you see her in bib overalls every day. You get the point. She played basketball for some college back in her day.

Day in and day out I'd help her bring in the cows and hook them up to be milked. However, one day in August, it was extremely hot. We were both soaked with persperation. After washing the udders, Ms. V, as I called her, sprayed me. Which lead to me grabbing the hose to spray her back. Anyway we laughed, and tried to stay cool. As we hooked up the last cow, she moved the milker too close to my leg and it suctioned onto my thigh. As she pried it off a big bruise blossumed on the inside of my thigh. She apologized over and over while rubbing my thigh. She asked if it was blistering and I said no. While the whole time I couldn't get over looking down her tank top. She had very nice boobs and I instantly became excited as she accidentally brushed up against me. That event ended abruptly as we had work to do.

The next few days, I was left to bring in and hook up the cows by myself. It was time consuming. Ms. V was getting ready for the farmers market and was busy elsewhere. As I thought of her, I found myself excited. Thoughts quickly turned to satisfying my aching hard-on. As I watched the milking machines, I rubbed myself through my shorts. I thought to myself, I wonder what that milker would feel like. I unzipped my shorts and continued to massage my throbbing member. I worked up the courage and inched the milker closer to my penis. When suddenly I heard Ms. V yell, 'No!'. I was so, started, I dropped the milker, trying to cover myself. I was so embarrased. She ran up to me and shook my shoulders and explained how dangerous farm equipment can be. She explained that it could have caused nerve damage or other internal injuries. The whole time I shriveled up like a turtle. She finished her lecture and then told me with a smile that she understood my needs. She helped me unhook the cows and finish my chores. Before I left for the day, she asked me if I needed any help with anything that needed attention. I said no, but she just winked and smiled...

To be continued...

Posted on: 2008-09-08 00:00:00 | Author: