The man of the house recently got a job working on a dairy farm. And he’s informed me that they’re in desperate need of volunteers. Since I’ve just finished high school and don’t have a job lined up, I figure, what the hell? It’ll probably look good on my resume, if nothing else.
But my first day on the job, I’m shocked to learn that this isn’t your ordinary dairy farm. I don’t see a cow or goat in sight. Not even a chicken or a pig. What I do see is stall after stall of full-chested women inside the barn, and all of them being pumped at both ends!
I don’t know if I should stay or run. But the moans of pleasure and the promise of money tells me that running would be a mistake. And once the man of the house fills me up and wraps his lips around my creamy mounds, I know I want to stay.