“We should take them inside and plug them into the milking machines. They need to be milked every day.”
I watched as she took the cow by the collar and led her toward the barn.
The cow put up no resistance, its tail swishing with what appeared to be mild excitement.
Everything these creatures did appeared to be mild.
Another cow, this one white with brown patches across its back, nuzzled my shoulder the way the first one had.
I took its collar and led it toward the barn.
I let my eyes roam over Isabella’s ass and muddied rubber boots.
She wore pants that clung tightly to her thin legs.
I suspected it was to avoid getting dirt on baggy clothes.
She led her cow into one of the machines and shut the gate behind it.
Then she stepped through the fence, ducking low, and I couldn’t help but suck in a breath as the muscles of her ass flexed.
“We attach the machine to their udders which draw out the milk,” she said.
“Does it hurt? I can’t imagine it feels good to have it sucked out like that.”
Her eyes flicked up and met mine again, blue and as unfathomable as the deepest oceans.
“You might be surprised.”
She switched the machine on.
There was a soft sucking noise before the machine found its rhythm and began to draw the milk out of the creature.
“Want to give it a try?” Isabella said, performing that deep dive between the fence slats again.
I knew what I wanted to try with her…
Funny, I thought, that I could have forgotten so much about myself and yet my instincts knew perfectly well how to mate.
I could have rutted with Isabella right then and there wouldn’t have been a single hesitation in my movements.
She stood up close to me, waiting for me to respond.
I’d drifted off again.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said. “But I’m worried I might hurt the poor creature. She doesn’t need an amateur taking care of her.”
“We’re all amateurs at the beginning. Until we figure out what we’re doing, at least. It comes with practice.”
Was I reading things into what she was saying? I wondered. Surely she couldn’t have meant to place an overlay of sexuality to every sentence?
I gulped.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. But give me a hand with this one… I mean, show me how to apply the sucking device… Ah, I mean… Help.”
Isabella chuckled and followed me into the pen.
She handed me the device and showed me how to place it on the cow without her being able to feel it.
“Make sure the suction level is low at the beginning,” Isabella said. “It can come as a shock otherwise. Everyone likes to be warmed up a little.”
She did it again.
Or did she?
Maybe I really was only imagining things.
“Right,” I said, mouth dry.
“Let’s go do the others and then we can do something more fun.”
“Fun?”
She bent over and stepped through the fence slats again.
She was killing me with that ass.
I couldn’t imagine anything more fun than watching her get in and out of that pen a few hundred more times.
Mercy, mercy me.
It took half an hour to affix the machines to each of the cows in the paddock.
By that time, the first of the machines had already finished and we had to return the ladies to a new paddock.
Once we were done, Isabella grinned up at me.
“You did well.”
“I had a good teacher.”
“Better than mine, anyway.”
“Who was yours?”
“My parents. I suppose it’s not their fault. There’s nothing worse than having to get up before dawn to take care of the animals before school. Even worse when you know no matter how hard you scrub, you can never seem to get the stink out of your clothes.”
I chuckled at the thought.
“You can laugh,” Isabella said. “It’s a serious issue when you’re growing up.”
Her eyes flickered and she looked away, disturbed by what she said.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” I said.
“It’s hard to remember you don’t have memories. You should be hanging out in a big city, not around here where you never had much experience.”
“I like hearing about your childhood.”
She smiled warmly.
“You do? Most guys aren’t very good at listening.”
“Then they’re idiots. I could listen to you all day.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Isabella smiled and laughed at the same time.
It was easy to imagine her laughing like that when she was a little girl.
Her eyes were big and wide and threatened to consume me if I drifted too close…
I pulled back at the last moment.
“A good thing your dad doesn’t wear your pants,” I blurted.
The words were out before I could run them through my quality check filter.
How embarrassing.
Isabella ran her hands nervously over her pants.
“No, thank God. The thought of seeing my pop in pants like these… It’s enough to give me nightmares.”
I’d dodged a bullet there.
Good thing she had a good sense of humor.
Then she looked over at me.
“Do my pants bother you?”
“No! Not at all. They’re just… They…”
What?
What were they?
Alluring?
Sexy?
Distracting?
“They’re very… fashionable,” I said. “I never thought you could look so good on a farm. It’s all dirt and mud and poo.”
“Oh yes, lots and lots of poo. You should be here during summer when the temperature’s high and it stinks to high heaven. Then you wouldn’t think it’s quite so beautiful here.”
Her attention drifted off to a small thatch of trees beside the barn.
My instincts reacted of their own volition.
I drifted closer and placed my hand on hers on the fence.
“No,” I said, “I would.”
Because you’re here.
I didn’t know how I could be so forward, not when I knew so little about myself.
But maybe that could be a strength too.
Not knowing much about myself meant I didn’t have to worry about times I’d been rebuffed by other girls or depend on bad advice I’d received.
It meant less got in the way to show how I felt about her.
And I was feeling.
A lot.
“I never thanked you for taking me in like this,” I said. “You didn’t have to.”
“Actually, I did.”
Now it was her
