He was plowing the shaft of his cock up against her belly. She could feel the brush of his balls and the different way the dome of his cock was shaped...as it slid into the tight groove between her legs and thigh. Pushing her hands between their grinding bodies, Lydia reached down until she was where she guessed his cock was. She wanted to touch it, to hold and caress it between her fingers. Lydia curled her fingers around his prong, listening to Tom moan and feeling his body jerk from her gentle. I moved to get busy with whatever I was to be doing as I entered what was known as the milk house. The paint on the interior walls was supposed to be white, I assumed, but was a bit dingy in places yet kept clean. I could tell. It was cool, felt damp in there, almost uncomfortable cool but the kind of coolness that reminded me of my grandparents root cellar.I passed by a closet that held equipment moaning and sucking and wheezing. I would learn these were the vacuum pumps running the milking. More

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