Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Southpaw

'Bag Balm' That is what he said when he touched my breast, teasing out my milk. Today he is not alone, he is with a friend I have yet to meet. Fulfilling his promise a tin is produced. I quiver with delight as I see my new lover reach deep in with his strong joints and pull out a glistening dollop. He is not as gentle as his friend, but his new touch excites me as he moistens my chapped teats. Once the deed is done I see that my former lover has been wounded and is now just here to watch. This excites me more and my milk now flows in rivers into the bucket bellow. As the bucket fills I dream of my bulbous mounds being washed by an orgy of unknown lovers. 'She's tapped' he says and opens the gate in front of me. As I leave I hear my new love say 'I sure cut my hand up good it's a good thing I've got Southpaw.' Later that night as I chew my cud all I can think is his name 'Southpaw.'

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