Cowboy Farm

By Hugo Dan

Published on Jan 21, 2021

Gay

You must be 18 to read this story, and be aware that this is a work of fiction and lots of imagination, "facts" in this story are not meant to make sense with real scientific facts, just to go with the flow with the plot.

This is the first story I submit to nifty, if you like it I will be glad to hear from you.

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Cowboy farm 3

I hardly have any dreams when I sleep, I guess because I have no reference of many things in the world as I don't get out of the farm too often. My days consist of waking up, do some farm work, get milked, have my meals and do some more work, I end up so tired that I rest so deep in my sleep. I have always thought that's why I don't dream much.

Farmer Harris tells me stories from outside, whenever he gets his permit to go hunting, that's the only way men can obtain meat, going hunting animals in the wild. I have seen what's left of a venizon after Mr. Harris comes back after a weekend of hunting, and have heard attentive his descriptions, the limited imagination I have has filled the rest.

"They can jump so high you can be standing up and they pass right by you in a second!", he says more excited at my amaze than the story itself, "but you have to be careful, they have very sensitive hearing, and they have very sharp hooves, though its meat is delicious! Totally worth the wait to hunt one", he says while moving around the kitchen, me sitting at the table with a bowl of juicy fruit, then he sits on his side with a plate served with what he cooked, I remain sitted trying to give a look and sniff some, I start salivating, "I'm so sorry Joe", he says having a first bite and closing his eyes with bliss, "you can't have this, meat makes your milk turn bitter, we can't risk that".

Those nights, I have short dreams where I go with farmer Harris on his hunting trips, even once I dreamed I was the pray, running around with little horns on my head, I woke up agitated when in my dream I step into Mr Harris pointing at me with a gun.

But today was different, it felt so real, there were the two horsemen kneeling in front of me, taking turns sucking the milk out me, my teat was so hard and they were stroking it, and putting it inside their mouths, and that wasn't all, I looked past them and there was a line of horsemen behind these two waiting to get my milk. I was having an strange feeling, so new to me, not just the pleasure I get from being milked, but an urge to keep going, eagerness of not just been standing there but do something, in my dream I started moving my hips pushing my teat inside one of the horseman's mouth, he put his hands behind me on my buttcheeks, and my jugs hit his chin.

I wake up with a feeling of electrical charge going through my body, I grasp for air and my body is tensed. I sit on my mat and take a few seconds thinking of what happened, I rub my eyes and realize a small stream of liquid on my leg. Damn!

I get up immediately and touch my crotch, then find my teat is hard and dripping milk. I get out of my barn and clean myself with some water. I start my day going around the plot, checking on the crops for any new weed or trace of plague, I have an odd feeling, I still have my stiff teat and my jugs seem fuller even though I was drained yesterday.

I hear the farmer's house door open and I walk towards it, I know where my milking spot is, Mr Harris already put his stool and is sitting there with the jar on one hand.

"We are eager to get milked, huh?", he says smiling.

I stand in front of him, and open my legs a little, his face is so close to my teat and I can't help remembering what happened with the horsemen, the farmer reaches my teat with his hand and takes it back when it twitches, "what's going on here?", he asks with shock.

"Don't know sir...", I feel a little ashamed but hasty at the same time, "I just woke up feeling the need to be milked".

"I see... huh... ok, lets begin", he takes a small bottle out of his pocket and pours some milking cream, then grabs my hard teat, I breath with relief, the milking process starts as usual, but oddly there's something missing, it feels good, but, I miss the eagerness, the grip, the rhythm, the suction.

I start feeling uneasy, so I make a decision, I begin moving my hips a little, now the hand is not just focused on the tip part, it goes all the way to the base. "Easy boy!", says Mr Harris, "what's got into you today?..."

"I-I'm sorry sir... I don't know, is just that I wanted to be milked... different today... is it bad?"

Mr Harris keeps milking me gently as usual, but his face shows concern, "could it be?..." he asks himself whispering, and carry on with one hand, with the other he holds my jugs, "do they hurt?".

"No sir".

"Do they seem bigger to you?", he asks holding one and squeezing it then the other trying to compare them and trying to remember of they were always this size.

"Uhm... don't think so sir, same orange size", he chuckles, he has always found amusing how I use fruit as reference to almost anything. Dad had grapefruit jugs, and that one time Mr Harris took us swimming to a pond nearby I refered to his as prunes, he burst laughing, and corrected he has 'testicles'.

"Did your father ever talk to you about changes, how cowboys mature?", he keeps stroking as he asks me that, I enjoy every second of it.

"Don't know sir, he did talk to me about cowboys and milking, nothing else... I guess he always saw me as a calf".

"Yes, he did", he smiles remembering him and so do I, "always overprotecting you".

He pulls my hard teat down so he can aim properly to the jar, such bliss, I moan while my milk pours directly in the container, I feel it go through my inner conducts so hot, swelling everything as it passes. When the flow decreases, farmer Harris puts the tip near his mouth to taste some, the touch of his lips on the tip of my teat reminds me of how good yesterday was, without any warning I thrust my hips sticking my still hard teat in his mouth, his wet tongue feels amazing, and I shoot a small load. Mr Harris gags and pulls out quickly almost falling from his stool.

"What is wrong with you!", his frowned face looking directly at me, he coughs and I stand regretting what I did.

"I'm sorry Sir! I'm so sorry!".

I wait what it appears an eternity as he recovers from the cough attack. "It's ok Joe...", he says, "I understand what's going on, don't worry, I guess I forgot how your dad went through his maturing phase".

I worked harder the entire day, I had the feeling I did something wrong and hope I could compensate it. I didn't see the farmer the rest of day, that gave me anxiety, what if he wasn't pleased? Dad always told me we had a good owner, to always be obedient and I wouldn't be sold, there are worst fates for cowboys than end up on a big farm full of cattle, there are those milking facilities where they plug cowboys to machines all day.

As I wash my body under the dim light before nightfall I hear the back screen door of the house open, my heart suddenly pumps loader. I put the hose down and walk towards Mr. Harris. He doesn't say anything but invites me in, I feel nervous, he doesn't usually does that, just the times when he comes back from a trip and wants to talk. But today, we had that situation earlier. He stops at the entrance and hands me a towel, I don't get to use one, I have to dry by myself or the sun, but he doesn't want me to soak anything inside.

We stand facing each other in the middle of his living room, my feet feeling the smoothness of the wooden floor and my eyes examining the place, neatly decorated, with relatively unused furniture as Mr Harris doesn't have any family and almost none of his friends visit. He is wearing a blue robe as he always does at nights.

"Look Joe...", he says calmly, but I can't anymore.

"Sir! I'm so sorry, please! That will never happen again, I promise! Don't know what went wrong with me today, but please! Don't sell me!", I shout, pleading for his forgiveness but he just stares, I'm about to kneel and beg but he puts his hands on my chest, gently pushing me.

"What are you talking about, Joe? Sell you? Why would I?!", he frowns intrigued.

"Because I'm disobedient", my eyes are turning red filling with tears, "and I'm misbehaving, and being reckless... and I'm 'wrong' ".

He smiles moved by my words, and reaches my shoulder with his hand, it feels warm and protecting, "listen to me", he tilts my face up with his other hand to meet his eyes, "there's nothing wrong with you, you are a good cowboy in perfectly good shape, I will never consider selling you, and I called you here for that exact reason, for what happened earlier today", I nod feeling relieved and sigh, "this should have been taught by your father but I guess men and cowmen aren't so much different regarding reproduction".

"Reproduction...? Sir?", I ask way more intrigued by now.

"Let me show you", he unties his robe and let it fall to the floor, he exposes his man's body, really not too different from any other subspecies but quite fascinating. Mr Harris is a 60 year old man, fit mature body, toned by hard work, a slight bump on his belly with a coat of salt and pepper fur covering his chest, arms, gut and legs, "look", he takes his flacid penis and lifts it showing me his tiny ju- his testicles, "men don't produce milk, we have 'man seed' to breed, almost as your milk but less amount, when the time comes we put this liquid seed inside a woman, to have a baby".

I look down to my jugs, and compare the size difference between both of us, "so... I have seed inside my jugs?".

"Perhaps... but not exactly right now, when young cowboys reach breeding maturity, they start having urges, urges to empty their jugs".

"Empty them?!", I ask shocked, reaching my jugs and holding them, they feel full, heavy, don't think how would they feel without milk, maybe like those saggy balls from horsemen.

"Yes, but not entirely, once you are 'in heat', that's what it's called the period of time when you are able to breed, you will empty your jugs and your body will produce 'seed' inside them, that will last from two to three weeks, once is over you'll be back to normal".

"And how would I know it's over?"

"The jugs usually shrink as seed is not produced as much as milk, once is over you'll notice they get back to normal, or even bigger now that you are a mature cowboy".

All this chat about my urges, my milk, my seed and the breeding got an effect on my that without noticing my teat got hard.

"See...", says Mr. Harris, "you were not that eager before".

"So this mean... I'm in heat?".

"I call the vet after our incident, he recomended you get milked twice or more each day, to see how your body reacts".

"Oh ok", I feel relieved the outcome isn't as bad as I thought, "should we go outside sir?"

"No Joe, we'll try something different today, here, inside".

I don't think is too different so I agree without any doubts, I take a few steps towards Mr Harris and separate my legs waiting for him to sit on the couch.

"No, this time you'll sit", farmer Harris sits on the couch, naked as he was already, he spreads his legs leaving a small space just in front of him. "Turn around", hesitantly I get close and turn around giving my back to him, I lower myself and put my butt cheeks between his legs, he holds my shoulders and pulls me against him, his body is warm and the feeling of his hairy body seems quite odd, but good, "just relax Joe", suddenly I feel his rough but caring hands going down my chest, they pass my nipples and I almost squirm with the touch, they immediately get hard, I start taking deep breaths out of nervousness, that's when Mr Harris' hands get to my stomach, one hand stays there and the other goes down to take my hard teat. He starts stroking slowly, the dry milking doesn't hurt when its done gently, and farmer Harris is an experienced man.

I close my eyes and moan quietly letting him handle my aroused teat. Soon he starts rubbing more and I whimper. Then he lifts his hand and put his index finger on my lips, "Open Joe", I let him stick his finger in, and rubs it on my tongue, he sticks a second finger and wets them with my saliva, just to keep stroking. He does that again until he asks me to spit on his hand, I obey and the milking turns easier, better.

This is better than being milked standing, the warmth of his body on my back and his arms hugging me, I never thought this could be done this way, I clench my hands on his forearms as i'm getting closer, and I start moaning loader, "does it feels good?", he asks.

"Y-yes!", I moan and squirm my body over his leaning my head back, my face rubs against his beard scrubbing on my smooth cheek.

"Yeah? Want me to milk you this way from now on?", he has a deep soothing voice, and he is whispering directly in my ear I can feel his breath, I nod squirming again biting my lower lip.

"Oh!", I whimper, "what's that?", I ask moving on my narrow seat space.

"Don't worry boy, is just my penis..."

"Is it swollen sir?", I arch my back.

"Yeah... w-would you...?"

"What sir?", I say moaning.

"Touch it...?"

I release the grip from his forearm and bend my left arm reaching behind me, with a little struggle I take his penis, completely hard, just as my teat. I start massaging it as much as I'm able with both our bodies together, I keep arching my back and my head leans back next to his, he starts moaning, load deep moans, it makes me shiver as his breath hits on my neck and ear.

"Is it ok sir?", I ask.

"It's perfect boy, keep doing it, make me feel good".

"Yes! I'm! I'm! Sir! Im going to!", Mr Harris starts stroking faster and with his other hand reaches for my neck, locking his big hand around it not letting me move, I groan as I know I'm about to burst, "sir!", I almost can't say a word, "it's... spill... waste..."

"Don't worry boy", he says to my ear, "You'll make more milk for me", as he says that he puts his lips against my ear and kisses me. I moan and shoot, he keeps stroking and with a tighter grip on his hard penis I make him groan, I feel a warm wet spot on my back. The splashes of liquid keep sounding as Mr Harris doesn't stop stroking until only drops fall. We recover from the evident exhaustion still sitting on the couch leaning on each other.

After a while I get up to a floor spilled with cowboy milk, my milk, I turn to see the farmer and he is laying there with a smile on his face. I'm about to go and get something to clean but he says I should better go to the barn and have a nice sleep, he is going to take care of everything.

Next: Chapter 4


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