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Cowboy farm 2
The teat of a cowboy always stays chubbed up for a while after the milking, today that works perfect for me as the two horsemen get to the farm to collect the crops. Don't get me wrong, I don't know why but it's a matter of confidence, their presence is imposing, two strong draft horsemen approach pulling the big dray, their bodies tall and muscled shining with morning sweat.
I look down to my body and even though I'm toned from all the farm work I may look scrawny next to this two, they have strong legs with thick thighs, broad shoulders with big chests and very muscled arms. They have nothing on them but harnesses attaching them to the dray, I step next just at the moment the dray stops, I can hear their heavy breathing, and I take a look at them. Both look more tanned than I as they spend most of the time under the sun, one has brownish hair and the other is blonde, both with usual horsemen haircut, farmer Harris calls it mohawk. But what impresses me most is what they carry between their legs.
My dad always told me to stop staring, but farmer Harris laughed and said that it was just an innocent fixation. You know, we all subspecies apparently look very similar to men, but we have slightly differences, while men have penis and testicles between their legs, cowboys have 'teats' and 'jugs' full of high protein thick milk, and horsemen on the other hand, their thick cocks are covered with skin hanging low and their balls swinging like saggy bags as their tools.
Mr Harris taught me, or he tried to, about evolution and adaptation, he said that once, we were all the same but somehow we evolved in what we now know as subspecies. Sometimes nature needs a little push to adapt to the needs, he explained me how horsemen and cowboys were born with a 'foreskin', but men decided it would be better for cowboys to be cut as calves, that because the teat needs to be clean at all times, and that useless piece of skin could compromise the milk by being a spot for bacteria. Contrarily, horsemen need to have their cocks hidden, you dont want people seeing horse cock on the street as they pass by, or kids watching boned up horsemen on a parade. Horsemen not only keep the skin sheath, they get trained using clamps with weight on their foreskin to losen it and make it hang low so anytime they get aroused the skin will cover the entire thing.
I get close to release the strong horsemen from their restrains to the dray, I swear I can feel the heat coming out from their bodies. I'm not a big cowboy, I'm 5'7" and this shires must be above 6 feet tall, intimidated I take a glimpse at the one next to me, I even hold my breath but suddenly a big snort scares me and I fall to the ground.
I get up again as their neighing laughter burst, I tap my buttcheeks getting dirt off from them, I'm mad, but I sure can't put a fight to this two.
"Joe!", farmer Harris calls me, "go keep weeding the crops, I'll handle this", he is walking towards us with a frown on his face, I have always felt protected by him, I know he is going to make them pay.
Even though I have no visual of the horsemen I can hear them groan and snort with effort, farmer Harris can be a son of a bitch if he wants, I smile with joy. When I finish the small plot I walk to my trough and drink some fresh water, I pour some over my neck to freshen up. Then I feel a nearby presence.
"Hey", says one of the horsemen, the blonde one, he is shining with sweat and his skin has a slight red tone from the sun and the hard work, "your owner made us load the dray with crates full of cabbages and unload it because he didnt like how it was arranged, do you know how much one of those crates weight?" I simply say no with my head, "hope you dont hold a grudge on my friend for that little prank...", his broad muscle frame gets closer to me, "would you mind sharing some water with us?".
I see how tired they look as his companion walks right behind him, I just nod letting them approach the trough, they both kneel and sank their faces on the water, making it splash with their hands to wet their bodies.
I dont get to go out of the farm, so the weekly visits from the market's horsemen are the only ones I get, and since my father died I dont get to talk to anyone beside the few hours Mr Harris spends with me. Too bad most of the time is this obnoxious company that I get. I watch them drinking with thirst, then scouping some water and pouring it on their hot bodies, even they help each other, I stare at both of them, touching, almost caressing, their short manes dripping wet.
"Are you ok?", asks the one with the brown hair, rubbing his chest, his fingers almost playing with his hard nipples.
"Uhm... ye-yes! I'm ok", I say getting back to reality, I take a step back from them. Then I see the look of surprise from the blonde one.
"You sure?", he smirks, and points at me. I lower my head and watch what he is pointing, my teat is swollen, hard at the point of milking, a few drops of my milk dripping from the tip.
"Oh! Shit!", I exclaim surprised, trying to clean myself, but as I hold my hard teat I squeeze it a little and a few more drops of milk get out, "I'm sorry", I blush, "I just got milked this morning, uhm, it usually happens".
"Don't be sorry, I guess is normal for cowboys", says the blonde one getting up and pulling back his wet mohawk.
"But hey", says then the other, "you shouldn't waste it...", he stands up and walks towards me.
"What do you mean?", I ask.
"Well, you could share some with us, you say you already got milked today, the farmer won't mind if we get some, your jugs seem very full".
"No, you can't! my milk is for the farm, only Mr Harris can milk me".
"Oh come on!", he keeps approaching, "dont tell me you dont milk yourself at night? Release yourself from the pressure"
"N-no!", I say hesitating, knowing that I do have those thoughts at night, and I have sometimes milked myself and end up feeling guilty of wasting good milk.
Suddenly the blonde one takes me from behind and pulls me to the other side of the barn where we can't be seen, his arms went under mine and his hands lock themselves on my neck, I can't move and my slim body is pushed by his muscled one.
The other one kneels in front of me and puts his big hands on my thighs, I feel shivers as they go up my waist and torso.
"Don't fight it 'Boy cow', we know you get pleasure from milking, and we can use a little bit of high protein milk, the one we get from the mushy chow they give us at the stable is not the same, they can't fool us, that's plant shit".
"N-no! I'll scre...", I first thought he was going to milk me dry, and it could hurt my teat so I prepare to scream for help, but then I feel something wet and warm, "ooh!", I moan letting my mouth open, I try to look downwards but I am locked in the blonde one's arms, I just see the mohawk moving down my crotch.
The muscled horseman is kneeled sucking my hard teat, I won't lie, it feels good, no, not just good, amazing! One thing is milking yourself with a hand, how it is intended, and yes, sometimes the farmer drinks right from it right when its bursting, but never all the way to it. The brownish mane horseman is taking it all in his mouth, massaging the tip with his tongue, I just moan, then, I'm not trying to fight it and not that I had a chance to get out from it but I let myself go, I feel the muscles from the blonde one behind me and the mouth milking skill from the other.
After a while I feel the shivers down my crotch, feels amazing, like a bolt of lightning getting ready to strike, then it goes through my whole body, I lean my head back and loadly moan as my milk beggings to come out, bursting like a hot spring. The horseman clenches his fingers on my waist, gripping tight to drink everything.
This is a completely new experience, being milked with a mouth, feeling the greedy suction trying to dry my jugs and all of this by force, damn! "Hey! Leave some for me!", the blonde one demands, but seeing that his partner was lost with bliss he let me loose, I almost fall but lean on the barn's wall, suddenly the two horsemen are plugged to my teat, I feel my jugs contracting, by now there must be a lower flow of milk and they are going to let me go, but instead I feel a pair of hands squeeze my jugs, "oooh!!", I couldn't hold it, I scream, but, is it pain? Or is it pleasure? I'm not sure, but the milk keeps pouring.
"Your milk is so sweet cow boy", says one on a chance he took to grasp for air.
I end up sitting on the ground leaning my back on the wall, the other two still kneeling tasting the remains of my milk on their mouths, they have even drops running down their chins and neck.
"Thank you!", says the blonde one, "Next time we are here we hope you can share some more with us".
"Yeah! That was amazing! Sure your milk will give us extra strenght today!" And so they leave me here, trying to recover from the most amazing milking I have ever had.