The Lazy Cow (1)
The scorching sunlight from the noonday sun, hanging at the highest point in the sky, streams through the window. It is a family that runs a rural farm. The parents tend to the wheat fields and pull weeds and catch pests in the orchard. And what is the son doing, who sleeps until lunchtime? It is finally time for him to work.
After a long, sound sleep, the son puts on his comfortable work clothes and heads to the barn where the cows are kept. Hansel, the son of the farm, grabs a few large buckets for the milk and calls out the name of the dairy cow who is eating a snack in a space that is less of a barn and more of a modestly decorated woman's room.
"Gretel!"
"Hmm? Is it time to work?"
Gretel, the dairy cow who had been sleeping face-down with her face buried in a pillow on the bed, stretches at the sound of Hansel's voice, loosening her stiff body. Then, she clasps her hands behind her head, exposing her armpits defenselessly. As she sways her upper body from side to side, her golden twin-tails, which fall to the left and right, sway along with her breasts—each the size of a watermelon that would reveal red, refreshing flesh if sliced in half—rippling like waves.
The area was a bit small to begin with, but her areolas, too large to be covered even by her black-and-white spotted bikini, spill out, highlighting the color between pale pink and brown. It feels as if one would be intoxicated by the sweet scent of a red lychee, which would reveal white flesh if peeled and bitten. Following the perfect, fat-free curve down from those massive breasts, the woman's mound, hidden beneath the small scrap of spotted fabric that would reveal itself with the slightest movement, is already beginning to leak a little nectar.
Just as a puppy happy to see its owner sticks out its tongue and wags its tail, Gretel the dairy cow, waiting for her owner, welcomes Hansel, the son of the owner's family, in just such a way.
"Did you sleep well? You weren't uncomfortable, were you?"
"Yes! I wasn't. Hansel, and the master, and the mistress always take such good care of me."
It was true. The space used as a barn for the dairy cow is as pleasant and comfortable as the house where the farm owner's family lives, equipped with bedding including fluffy pillows and a bed. With Hansel cleaning it every other day, she is effectively treated not as livestock, but as a master to be served or a precious guest.
Gretel, who has come down in front of Hansel, takes two steps, bends her knees, and places her hands on them, lowering her posture to match Hansel's eye level. Their green and blue eyes capture each other, and the distance between them grows closer.
Chu-up.
Their lips meet and overlap. They squirm incessantly, trying to cover one another. The clear saliva flowing out mixes and mixes again in the gaps of their lips. Their tongues, having pushed through the gaps in their lips, rub, grind, and entwine with each other. It was by no means the appearance of livestock and an owner. It was a kiss that was short, yet long and eternal for the two of them. Hansel wonders how Gretel could possibly have such a sweet and soft scent.
"Let's do the rest after I milk you."
He wants to do more, but he has to work, so he sets the bucket he brought down on the floor.
"Yes. I understand."
As Gretel turns around, places her knees and arms on the ground, and gets down on all fours, Hansel removes the bikini covering her breasts.
Flop.
A small scrap of fabric. As the tiny piece of cloth, which couldn't even cover her areolas, is completely removed from her body, the flesh that had been pressed is finally liberated from the pressure. He had thought they were quite large even when they were partially covered, but once they were bared, he realizes once again that those luscious treasures were even more massive than they appeared.
Gulp.
Swallowing his saliva, a routine that has become a part of his daily life, repeated over and over since the first time. It is the first step to cooling down his body, which threatens to ignite and burn up instantly upon seeing that beautiful, luscious body, and regaining his reason. Suppressing his desire to hold Gretel somehow, Hansel kneels to the right of Gretel, who is on all fours like a dog, and places the milk bucket he brought under her breasts, which he wants to touch right now.
Hansel's left hand goes to Gretel's raised buttocks, and his right hand to the breasts sagging under their own weight.
"Hnnngh♥"
Whether he started stroking her buttocks or her breasts first, the moan leaks out all at once. Hansel's hand, aimed at the buttocks behind, slides his fingers along the bikini panty line hanging below, then grabs it and pulls it completely to the side. There, two twitching holes are revealed. The narrow, wrinkled hole between the buttocks and the hole situated between the pink clam flesh leaking clear nectar from below.
"Aah♥"
Hansel's thumb digs between the buttocks. Of the five fingers, it is the shortest, but the thickest. He pushes it deep, past the first joint with the nail, all the way to the second joint. She tightens stickily.
At the same time as he inserts his left thumb into Gretel's hole, his right hand strokes and kneads the breasts, which have the bucket underneath them, with his palm. Breasts softer than silk made from the thread of silkworms fed on mulberry leaves grown with the warmest sunlight and cleanest water, and fluffier than cotton from cotton flowers that have aged for years, almost like a spiritual object. If he squeezes them hard, it feels like his hand would sink deep into them like a marshmallow.
Just by feeling the texture with his hand, the sweetness that melts in his mouth is transmitted on its own. As he continues to taste the sweetness with his right hand, his throat gets a little dry. He needs something to drink.
"This one feels good too... then the bottom..."
The thumb that was in the buttocks pulls out, and his hand heads further down.
"Ahat♥"
It was slippery. Hansel's hand, stained with the bodily fluids flowing from the pink crack below, repeats moving up and down Gretel's perineum. The touch was truly delicate. As if tuning a violin. A gentleness that does not allow even the slightest scratch. A precision that examines every corner. Gretel, who has entrusted her body to that touch that possesses everything, fills her heart and body with warmth and happiness just as Hansel desires.
When her body and heart are completely filled with happiness, Gretel releases the supreme milk made in her breasts.
"Hnnngh♥♥♥♥!"
The grip Hansel applies to Gretel's breasts, which he is gently kneading, becomes stronger. The soft massage turns into a squeezing motion.
Swoooosh!
Milk pours into the milk bucket from Gretel's breasts, which Hansel is squeezing. A snow-white waterfall falling from the nipples, which have protruded slightly to match her heated body. A savory and sweet scent spreads far and wide.
"This time, the other side."
Hansel's hands alternate between caressing Gretel's right and left breasts, then squeeze the milk. However, he does so gently so as not to hurt her, and to ensure there is no imbalance by squeezing only one side too much. He gently loosens the breasts by pressing the nipples firmly, scratching them gently with his fingernails, and pressing them with the tips of his fingers. Once he feels the breasts are sufficiently loosened and the contents inside are evenly spread, Hansel squeezes the milk again.
"Haaaaaang♥♥♥♥"
Swoooooosh!
White milk that naturally reminds one of the warmth of cotton flowers used to make winter cotton clothes. The level of the milk in the bucket containing Gretel's pouring milk rises even more as Gretel moans and reaches her climax. Carefully, without hurting her. Filled with love and affection, the fresh, nutritious milk, squeezed from a top-tier—no, a grade-0 dairy cow that surpasses even that—finally fills one bucket to the brim.
"Let's rest a bit and fill the next one."
How long has it been since he started working, and he's already talking about resting? Indeed, Hansel was truly lazy and slothful. After closing the lid of the full milk bucket and pushing it aside, Hansel stands up and heads to Gretel's back. He doesn't need to see to know what he is about to do from behind. Gretel takes a movement to seduce the male behind her by swaying her tail and buttocks.
Gretel the dairy cow, without even looking with her eyes, taps the crotch of Hansel's pants standing behind her with the tip of her tail.
"It's grown even plumper today, hasn't it?"
Even though it didn't touch his cock directly, the hardness of the cock, which had swollen plumply, and the heat of the blood that had become hot inside, are conducted to Gretel's body through her tail, making her burn even more.
Sarak. Sararak.
As Hansel strips off his cumbersome work clothes and the underwear that was underneath, the cock, which had been pressed by two layers of barriers, comes out. The scent of the transparent pre-cum flowing from the cock, which is of a size that makes one wonder how such an object could have been pressed down so neatly, is richer with the scent of chestnut flowers than the semen of most men.
"Haa, Hansel. Hurry, hurry."
He hadn't even tasted it properly yet, just smelled the scent a little, and he felt like he was going to come. Her pussy twitches, widening and narrowing on its own, and while letting out a heavy breath with her upper lips, she leaks clear arousal fluid, different from the white turbidity she spilled from her breasts. Drip. Drip. Drip-drip. Like a wolf drooling in front of a piece of delicious meat, the arousal fluid drips down. Because Hansel had touched it with his hands and stroked it up and down earlier, that place is soaked and damp, drenched all the way to her buttocks. Hansel grabs Gretel's buttocks with both hands.
"Haa♥ Haaaaaang♥♥♥♥"
The long-awaited cock finally into Gretel's pussy! It wasn't that. It wasn't the cock Gretel had been expecting. Hansel buried his head in Gretel's buttocks and pressed his lips against her pussy. In that state, he pushed his tongue in.