I Held Her Breasts*

On a windy night of December, when the moon shines like a sun, I was walking, holding a pail when I saw her, I saw her standing near the tree. I ran towards her, but she was trying to move away. 

I grabbed her, but she resisted. I struggled for her, and now she is in my arms. 

I asked her to come with me. But she didn't oblige. I have no other option, she's resisting, so I immured her. 

After a while, I caught myself thinking of doing it with her. I am excited. And I have been very aggressive with her. But what can I do? She is the most full-grown, and most matured. 

I couldn't wait any longer. And the most-awaited moment is now only a grasp away. I let her lie, in the stalks but just like before, she is again resisting. Sure. I can manage to do it while both of us are standing. I just need to bend a little so that I can obtain the best position.

Now, I am holding her face. I told her to be calm. She didn't say a word. 

I held her breasts. I felt like I was holding two little bags filled with sand. And I heard her moaning. That's what I am talking about. Nobody could resist it. 

Her sighs and whines make me do my job better. And I continued to caress here breasts, massage it, gently at first, and rapidly. 

A few more minutes, she is wet already, that white, watery, fluid causes the big grin in my face. 

Wow! I've been so worn out, so tired, and exhausted. But as I see it flowing, my labor didn't go for nothing. 

I finally made it. I am so relieved and I feel proud that I was able to do it by myself. . .


how to 

milk a 

cow.

*I wrote this July 2006 as a requirement in my Study and Thinking Skills course [and still contains the same grammatical errors].