50 Bales of Hay.

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wobblysauce
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50 Bales of Hay.

Post by wobblysauce »

50 bales of hay, a top read and just could be Arse pick of the year.
He thrust the barn doors open. He removed his straw hat and flung it on the hanger with fluidity, revealing the coarse patches of hair atop his flawlessly globular head. The straps of his jean overalls could barely withstand the might of his luscious man boobs. He’d bought me off a neighboring rancher once I had come of age. I was his to do as he pleased. So far, he’s been keeping me fenced in, forcing me to sift around in my own manure. I can’t say that I minded; it just made be reflect more upon the other sexual perversions he had in store.

I was plump and ready to explode, and he was certainly the man for the job. He dragged a strange piece of equipment over the dehydrated grass that littered the splintering floorboards. With each confident stride he made, a quiver reverberated through from my spine down to my overflowing udder. I was so distracted by thoughts of his forceful nature that I hadn’t noticed he was face to face with me, casting a looming shadow over my innocence. I was so overcome with surprise that a feeble moooo escaped me.

He knelt down behind me as I stared down at the forest of hair cultivating his perspiring back. I quickly averted my gaze lest the sexual tension should cause my udder to prematurely erupt. He reached for a pail of soapy water and began cleansing my virgin teats. I closed my eyes and thought of anything that would bar the flood gates just a little longer. He ditched the pail and reached for a tube of thick, lucid glaze. The letters ‘V-A-S-E-L-I-N-E’ were printed on the side. He grabbed a glob of the stuff and gently began lubing my tender teats. M-m-moo, I couldn’t hold back the ecstasy deluging from my mouth. Moooooo. After an intense struggle, I managed to maintain my sanctity. That’s when he reached for that strange apparatus.

He turned to me revealing four dangling hoses from his hand. With a flip of a switch, the hoses stiffened and started emitting a sucking sound. A perverse smile extended from cheek to cheek. That’s when the farmer planted the hoses to all four of my teats at once. Milk started draining from my comforted udder. It was finally happening, the seal had been broken. Mooooooo!

My elation lasted through the entire experience. The farmer removed the hoses and went on his way. I was left feeling empty but… ironically satisfied.
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matticooper
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Re: 50 Bales of Hay.

Post by matticooper »

sounds a bit like 50 shed of grey...

Fifty Sheds of Grey ‏@50ShedsofGrey
She said she wanted us to try teabagging but I just couldn't do it. I only keep Nescafe in the shed.
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