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exciting for her.
    ‘Get down like a cow. Or the wager’s off here and now.’
    She sighed, and submitted. She got down on her hands and knees, like an animal, with her breasts swaying beneath her over the bowl. She knew from looking in the bedroom mirror, that they formed perfect cone shapes in this position, jutting forwards a little, and tipped by her thick nipples. She got herself comfortable, with her ass up in the warm sunlight, and waited, with the grass pleasantly cool on her skin.
    She looked round. He was straddling her from the rear, and she felt his abdomen press against her rump, with a definite hardness to him. Suddenly, she felt a slap across her ass.
    ‘Ow! What’s that for, stranger?’
    ‘That’s how I keep my woman in position.’ He slapped her other buttock, hard, and she yelped. She knew that she should really get up and run away, or send for the cops, but she was more inclined to let this man go to work on her. She was nineteen years of age, dammit. She needed a man badly. All those nights alone in the farmhouse had left her with such an appetite for being handled.
    Two more slaps echoed out across the pasture, and Beth couldn’t suppress a smile of pleasure at the sensation. She arched her back and let her head drop forward, spilling her hair around her face. She felt him gather her hair in his hands, and tug at it.
    ‘Ready, girl?’
    She nodded. She felt him do something with her hair, and realised he was tying it up on the back of her neck. It felt strange to have this stern stranger performing such a caring act for her while she was naked. Her nipples leapt and buzzed at the situation – her position, the spanking and his thought for her hair.
    Suddenly he gripped her neck and caressed it, and put his other hand on her ass, stroking it.
    ‘Are we ready, my pretty milk cow?’
    ‘I’m not your milk cow,’ she protested – but her dangling breasts and perky nipples told a different story. They were ready for his fingers – no, they were yearning for his fingers. As if he knew that, the stranger cupped his hands under her tits.
    She gasped. His hands were cool and firm, and she shivered with enjoyment at his touch. For so long, she had wanted a man to take control of her breasts, to be firm with them, to use them as they should be used.
    ‘Oh! Stranger, oh!’
    ‘Keep still, milk cow. I’m just starting work.’
    ‘Yes, stranger. Oooh!’
    And Beth forced herself not to shudder or writhe with delight as the man began to caress her tits. Oh, he was magnificent! His firm, strong fingers passed up and down the hanging weight of her breasts, massaging them gently. She whimpered at the sensation – having spent so long imagining a man’s hands on her, and now realising that it was even better than she had fantasised. He proceeded to work on her nipples, which were wickedly erect and buzzing for attention.
    First, he let the fleshy areolas slide between his fingers, tugging the nipples gently, each movement provoking a whimper from Beth’s open mouth. Then he took charge of the erect studs, rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger, making Beth arch her back again and quiver involuntarily. He stilled her with a smack to her ass, and she went limp for him.
    From then on, she was at his command. His strong hands squeezed, caressed and tugged at her virgin nipples, bringing them to a hardness she had never known. He kneaded her breasts as if they were handfuls of dough, raising them, dropping them, and forming them into shapes she never knew were possible.
    She felt tears of delight roll down her cheeks, and she wiggled her butt back against his hard man’s crotch.
    ‘That’s right, girl,’ he murmured. ‘It’s coming, isn’t it?’
    ‘No, no,’ she panted, baring her teeth. ‘No, it’s not possible!’
    ‘The milk’s coming,’ he said in a deep voice. ‘I can feel it.’
    ‘No, no! It’s a trick. I can’t make milk. I can’t!’
    But again her breasts betrayed her.