Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Milkmaid (A Work in Progress)

   Story codes - F/Cows, zoo, kiss, mast, lact, oral, rim

   A rooster's crowing awakened Sarah just as the sun was beginning to peek
up over the line of trees on the other side of the field that surrounded
her father's farmhouse.  The familiar sound made her smile as she stretched
out across the top of her mattress, blinking her eyes brushing a few auburn
tangles from her freckled face.  That noise used to wake her up every
morning before she left the family farm a year earlier, and hearing it now
brought back a rush of memories.  She pulled the covers aside and slid to
the edge of the bed, planting her bare feet on the cool wooden floor,
thinking about how wonderful it was to be back where she knew she belonged.

   She hadn't always felt that way.  In fact she spent most of her life
thinking about how much she wanted to leave this isolated plot of land,
dozens of miles from what could even remotely pass for civilization in
mid-western America.  As soon as she was able she'd fled to the east coast
and landed a job at a major television studio.  It was only grunt work,
delivering scripts, answering emails and running for coffee, but she still
felt glamorous just being around all those minor celebrities in the heart
of one of the biggest cities in the world.

   However, the thrill was fleeting and the city unforgiving, and it wasn't
terribly long before she found herself staring out of her high-rise
apartment window toward the western horizon, wondering how things were
going back home.  She missed the smell of the grass and the hay (and even
the pigs).  She missed her parents, who were always such genuine folks, not
like her superficial co-workers in the big city.

   But most of all she missed her playmates, the animals that populated the
space inside and around the big red barn behind the farmhouse.  Sarah loved
all the animals on the farm, the horses, the pigs, even the chickens. 
However, her favorites were the cows.  There was just something about them
that always captivated her.  Before she'd left the farm it had been one of
her regular chores to tend to their care, particularly the milking, a job
her mother was only too glad to turn over to her.  She didn't share Sarah's
fascination with the beautiful, black and white Holsteins that called the
farm home.  She didn't care very much for the farm life in general, or the
animals that came with it, or really even the farmer.  She'd only married
Sarah's father because she was pregnant, a fact she never bothered to hide
from anyone.

   Today was Sarah's first day back home since her mother had finally
divorced her father and moved away, which was the reason she'd decided to
return to the farm, or at least that's what she told everyone, including,
most of the time, herself.  Her father needed someone to take care of him
now, as well as to help him keep the small farm running, since he wasn't
getting any younger and experienced help with livestock was harder to come
by every year.  In her more honest moments, though, Sarah privately
admitted that she'd jumped at this first chance to return home without
losing face.

   Sarah hopped into a pair of denim shorts and pulled a loose-fitting
t-shirt over her head as she headed out of her room and down the main
stairway toward the kitchen, where her father already had breakfast nearly
finished.  He was always the family's cook, getting up an hour before dawn
to put together what he called a proper breakfast before heading out into
the field for the morning.  Sarah smiled as she rounded the banister and
made her way to the table.  "Hi, Daddy," she said pleasantly, pulling back
the chair she always used to sit in during family meals.

   Her father turned his head to meet her smile with one of his own, a
spatula in one hand and a plate of freshly cooked pancakes in the other. 
"Just in time, young lady," he said as he sat the utensil down and brought
the plate to where his daughter was sitting.  "I thought you might want to
sleep in this morning.  I was afraid city life had put you off early
rising."

   Sarah laughed as she poured her father and herself each a glass of
whole, unpasteurized milk, one of the perks of living on a farm with dairy
cattle.  She lifted her glass and tilted it towards her mouth, the aroma of
the off-white liquid filling her nostrils for a brief moment before the
cool milk poured itself across her warm tongue.  She savored the flavor,
licking the milk mustache from her upper lip as she sat the glass back down
again.  She never could get enough of that stuff.  "No, Dad, I like being
up at the crack of dawn.  It means I'll actually get to see you before you
disappear into your tractor for hours on end."

   Her father shrugged his shoulders and began cutting up his own
breakfast. "Well the fields aren't going to plow themselves, girl, though
they practically do now, what with all the contraptions on that new machine
I'll be driving.  Honestly, there's not a lot for me to do other than make
sure the steering wheel doesn't wobble on the straightaways." He chuckled
and took a bite before asking, "What are you gonna do to keep yourself
occupied while your old man is out for the morning?"

   Sarah tried not to look quite as eager as she felt as she answered, "I
guess the cows need milking, don't they?" She knew very well that they did.
She just didn't want to give away how excited she was at the prospect of
spending some time alone with them.  She was so relieved when she peeked
inside the large barn the previous evening to see that her father hadn't
gone through with her mother's insistence that he get a machine to milk the
animals.  He always said he didn't like the look of those things, and that
there was nothing wrong with using the tools God gave folks for milking. 
Sarah could not have agreed more with that sentiment.

   Her father nodded and took another bite of his breakfast.  He was eating
fast this morning, which meant he must have a lot of ground to cover. 
Sarah smiled at this, because it meant she'd have more time to herself in
the barn.  "Alright, little Missy.  If city life hasn't dulled your
talents, I'm sure the ladies out in the barn will be mighty happy to see
you."

   Sarah went beet red at her father's words before realizing that he was
talking about her milking skills.  "Oh yeah, no problem, Daddy.  I'm sure
once I get going that it will all come back to me." It already was, in
fact. Her pancakes were going half uneaten as her head filled with pictures
of all the wonderful moments she'd shared with Cinnamon, Caramel and
especially Buttercup, her very favorite of her father's bovine beauties. 
She took a long sip of milk to calm herself, but the taste only heightened
her excitement.  She squirmed a little in her wooden chair, the tops of her
bare thighs squeezing the cuffs of her denim shorts as they rubbed against
one another.

   She blinked herself back to the here and now and returned to eating the
rest of her meal, not wanting to raise her father's suspicions.  He didn't
seem to notice anything out of the ordinary about her behavior, finishing
the last of his pancakes and getting up to carry the plate to the sink. 
"If you need anything at all, just use the radio in the barn to call me in
the tractor." Her father still hadn't gotten a cell phone.

   She nodded her head obediently and pushed her chair back, rising to her
feet.  After draining her glass and licking her lips one last slow time,
she carried her own dishes to the sink to rinse them off as her father
headed for the door.  "See you at lunch time, honey," he said.  "Don't have
too much fun."

   She knew he was being ironic, but it made her tummy flutter anyway.  She
waved to him as he slipped out of the house, the screen door swinging shut
behind him.  Then she hurried into the living room to fetch her sneakers,
slipping them on her bare feet and tying them in a rush.  The were nice
shoes, at least compared to what she used to wear when working in the
barnyard, but she didn't really care if they got dirty.  All that mattered
to her, as she fetched the clean metal pale from the shelf beside the back
door, was that her girls were waiting for her.  She stood in the doorway
for a moment to compose herself, then stepped out into the yard, making a
beeline for the big, red, wooden doors of the barn, chewing her lower lip
with anticipation.

   The heavy, wooden double doors swung open with some difficulty.  Sarah
forgot how creaky they always were.  She glanced over her shoulder at the
field where she could just barely make out the shape of her father's
tractor as it plowed furrows along the edge of their property.  She
clenched the metal pail tighter in her fist and took a deep breath, then
stepped into the old barn.

   Straw covered the floor that stretched for nearly fifty feet to the far
wall.  The lamps above the stalls were already lit, and beneath them Sarah
could see the familiar shapes of several large, mottled patterned beasts as
they shifted their ears and then their heads lazily towards her.  She
beamed.  "Hi girls!" she said, careful to watch her step as she walked
towards the stalls.  The floor was a bit messy.  Obviously her father
hadn't cleaned out the barn for a little while.  She would help with that
later on.  For now, she didn't mind the smell.  Quite the reverse,
actually. She deeply inhaled the potent scent of soiled straw and wood
chips, and the odor sent a tingle down her spine.  How many hours had she
spent enveloped by that smell as she played with her favorite girls?

   Sarah immediately recognized the three of them.  Cinnamon was the
largest and most productive cow on her father's farm, and she always had
been for the dozen or so years she'd lived there.  Further down the row of
stalls, past a couple of younger, newer animals that she didn't recognize,
Sarah spotted the lop-eared Caramel lazing against the door of her
enclosure, her mouth still full of feed.  The cows ate mostly after
milking, when they were released in to the pasture beside the barn, but her
father always left some dry feed in the stalls just in case they got
peckish (and they were always peckish).

   And right next to Caramel was Sarah's favorite girl, Buttercup, one of
Cinnamon's calves, though she was certainly no calf anymore.  At around 500
kilos she was actually a bit runtish for a Holstein, which was probably one
of the reasons why Sarah was so attached to her.  She used to run out into
the pasture and push the larger females away if they tried to mount her, as
cows were prone to do to each other when they were in heat.  Her father had
almost sold Buttercup when it became apparent that she wasn't going to grow
into the robust beast her mother had always been, but Sarah had talked him
out of it.  Buttercup was the closest thing that she ever had to a pet, and
she was the first creature of any species that she'd ever...

   Sarah blushed bright red, smiling to herself at the memory of that first
intimate encounter, but she couldn't stand around reminiscing all morning.
She had to get all the girls milked before letting them out, and she wanted
to get it done as quickly as possible, so that she'd have more time alone
with her favorites.  She walked to the first stall door, the residence of a
rather standoffish female named Pepper.  Sarah was the only one that Pepper
would let near her, other than her father that is.  The cow lifted her head
and let out an almost dismissive 'moo' as Sarah made her way into the
stall, pail in one hand and wooden stool in the other.

   "Hey Pepper," she said, giving the haughty girl a gentle pat on her
flank before resting on the stool beside her.  The cow continued to stare
in the opposite direction.  Pepper would permit herself to be milked, but
that didn't mean she was interested in getting any more involved in the
process than she needed to be.  Sarah was actually glad, because she could
practice a bit on Pepper until she got the milking action down once again
without spooking her.

   She leaned forward, her auburn bangs brushing the warmth of the animal's
side as she reached beneath her and took one of the animal's large teats in
her right hand, using her left to grab a wipe out of the box affixed to the
side of the stool.  One by one, she gave each of the four long nipples a
cursory cleaning, then pulled the pail underneath Pepper's udder.  Wrapping
her thumbs and forefingers around the base of the nearest pair of teats,
she began to squeeze.  Sarah grinned as warm, pale liquid began to squirt
from the end of them.  "Just like riding a bicycle," she said to herself as
she got into a rhythm of firm squeezes and gentle tugs.  Pepper remained
above the entire process throughout, staring absently at the opposite wall.

   After finishing with Pepper and her immediate neighbor, one of her
father's new purchases, she made her way to Cinnamon's door.  As she
unlatched it and pulled it open, the enormous animal leaned toward her and
pressed her large, damp nose against Sarah's smiling face.  "Hello
Cinnamon, you big, beautiful beast!" she exclaimed, dropping her bucket and
stool and wrapping her slender arms around the animal's thick neck. 
Cinnamon responded with a low murring sound, nuzzling Sarah and licking her
across the entire left side of her face.  Sarah laughed and licked Cinnamon
right back, playfully up the middle of her nose.  "I missed you girls," she
said as she let go of Cinnamon and reached down to pick up the pail once
more.

   She sat down beside the massive cow and slid the palms of her hands
along her rounded side.  Cinnamon craned her head around and stared at
Sarah with one eye, licking her own nose.  The young woman's fingers traced
the muscles beneath the skin that stretched across Cinnamon's heavy,
barreled chest, caressing her the way she knew Cinnamon enjoyed being
touched.  The cow responded by leaning into Sarah, a maneuver that might
have alarmed anyone else who sat beside and beneath a creature that weighed
over 700 kilos, but Sarah knew this was just Cinnamon's way of showing
affection.  Her father called it a 'cow hug.'

   The tips of Sarah's fingers continued on their journey along the
underside of Cinnamon's chest, taking quite a bit longer than what was
strictly necessary to reach the front of the animal's heavy udder.  She
pressed her face against Cinnamon's body, burying her nose in the short,
slightly rough-textured hair that covered the cow's hide.  Sarah inhaled
the scent, letting out a very soft moan.  Before she realized it, her
thighs were rubbing against one another again, and she felt the warmth
building between them.  When her hands found Cinnamon's udder, they moved
slowly, gently along the warm, round flesh, gliding between and around each
swollen teat.  Cinnamon murred more loudly and moved her hind feet back and
forth.

   Suddenly Sarah heard a noise coming from the direction of the barn door.
She sprang up, bumping into Cinnamon's side and nearly falling backward
into the messy bed beneath them.  It was the chirp of the radio set that
was mounted on the wall by the entrance.  Her father was calling her. 
Sarah swallowed and moved quickly out of the stall, hurrying to the wall to
fetch the handheld mic/speaker.  Pressing the button on the side with the
flat of her thumb, she let out a "Hey Dad, what's up?" as casually as she
could manage.

   Her father's voice crackled from the speaker.  "Hey, cupcake.  I just
thought I'd call to see how you were getting on with the milking.  Are the
ladies behaving themselves this morning?"

   Sarah smiled as she glanced over her shoulder at Cinnamon.  "Yes, Dad,
the ladies are being very good for me.  It's just taking me longer than I
thought it would to finish them all.  I might be another hour and a half or
more." She figured she'd already been in there for thirty minutes, and it
really shouldn't take her more than an hour to milk all seven of the cows,
but she wanted to buy herself as much time as she might.

   Her father sounded amused as he replied.  She imagined him shaking his
head at how much city life had dulled her farming skills.  "Well that's no
problem, Sarah girl.  You take as much time as you need to get back into
the swing of things.  I promise not to interrupt."

   "Thanks, Daddy," she said sweetly, happy to allow him to think she was
still trying to remember what she was doing if it meant buying her more
time alone in the barn with the girls.  She released the button and placed
the speaker back in its cradle, then walked back to Cinnamon's stall,
bouncing a little with each step.  She was excited to think of all the fun
she'd be able to have now, but she really needed to get finished with the
milking first.

   She returned to her place beside Cinnamon, straightening up a little
before reaching for her thick, warm teats.  as the sides of her fingers and
thumbs made contact, she felt a thrill entirely absent when she milked the
previous cows.  Her digits curled lovingly around them as her thumbs
stroked their sides.  Cinnamon responded with another murr, pushing herself
against Sarah's front.  Sarah blinked, trying to regain her focus.  "Sorry,
girl," she told the affectionate beast, "but I really need to finish work
before we can play." She took a deep, settling breath and began to get down
to the business of milking once again.

   Before long Sarah had managed to finish off Cinnamon and the two animals
beside her, a pair of siblings whose names she hadn't learned before.  The
first was Brenda, a fat and vocal animal, and the second was Marabel, a
more slender but still ample version of her sister.  Sarah's father had
purchased them along with Pepper's neighbor, an unusually solidly black
beast whose tag said "Rebecca," at auction during Sarah's year in the big
city.  They all seemed like amiable animals, and the young woman looked
forward to getting to know them much better, but not today.  Today was
going to be just for her favorites.

   When she arrived at Caramel's stall, the laid back beast lifted her head
from the top of the door so that Sarah could open it and enter.  She gave
the cow a hug around her neck and kissed the back of her floppy right ear.
"How have you been, gorgeous?" she said as she squeezed herself against the
animal.  Caramel turned her head and pushed Sarah back against the stable
wall, pressing the side of her large face against the front of the woman's
t-shirt.  This was Caramel's favorite way to say hello.  Sarah Giggled and
tugged on the cow's ear.  "Alright, girl, gotta get that milk out of you
real quick, and then, when we're all finished, we can catch up."

   She was quicker milking Caramel than she had been with Cinnamon,
cognizant as she was of the limited time she had left alone with the
animals, though she still took a moment to enjoy the feel of Caramel's
flesh between her fingers.  When the pail was full and the cow mostly
emptied, she carried the bucket back to the tank where it would stay
chilled until tomorrow, when their next-door neighbor, who actually lived
several miles down the road, came to pick up what they had and drive it to
the local market, where he sold most of it by the half-gallon.  After
emptying the pail, she headed all the way to the end of the row of stalls,
where Buttercup had been waiting patiently for her.

   The cow mooed happily when Sarah made it to her door, stepping forward
to meet her and press her face against the woman's the way Cinnamon had
done, sticking out her tongue and running it slowly over the front of
Sarah's lips and nose.  Sarah giggled and cupped the animal's head between
her hands, pressing her lips to the cows own and giving her a soft, sensual
kiss.  Buttercup had a few flecks of grain stuck to the front of her nose,
but Sarah didn't mind.  She kissed the cow for quite a long moment, her
fingertips moving up over the sides of Buttercup's face to fondle the base
of her ears.  The cow responded with soft mewls, her thick lips parting
very slightly against Sarah's mouth, and the woman took advantage of the
opportunity to slip the tip of her tongue between them, making contact with
Buttercup's own large, wet organ.

   This went on for well over a minute before Sarah reluctantly broke the
tender kiss, smiling apologetically at Buttercup's blinking brown eyes. 
"First thing's first, girl." She lifted the pail and the cow moved to one
side of the stall, knowing what was expected of her.  Sarah pressed her
cheek against her favorite cow's flank as her fingers moved beneath her,
moving gently over each of Buttercup's large teats.  She really had
intended to be all business, at least for a these last few minutes, but
when her left hand reached the back of the udder it continued upward along
the curve between Buttercup's powerful hind legs, sliding across the warmth
of her skin, following individual wrinkles of flesh with the tips of her
fingers, while her right hand fondled Buttercup's teats one at a time.  The
cow lifted her tail to one side.

   Sarah's head was buzzing and the warmth between her thighs grew moist.
The hand that wasn't teasing Buttercup's elongated nipples somehow found
its way between Sarah's own legs, rubbing against the thin denim fabric. 
She pressed her face against the cow's flank, her soft lips apart, the tip
of her tongue slightly extended, and she moved her mouth slowly down around
the girth of the murring beast.  Soon she found herself kneeling in the
straw bed, heedless of how dirty it might have been, planting kisses along
the side of the swollen, milk-filled sack as she lifted a teat in the hand
that wasn't worming its way beneath the waist of her shorts.

   When her lips made contact with Buttercup's teat she moaned loudly, and
the cow murred back at her, moving her right leg back a bit to give the
young woman more access.  Sarah's mouth closed around the teat and she
slowly sucked it inside until it filled the space between her teeth, and
she nibbled playfully at its fat base, causing little droplets of warm milk
to dribble out over the top of her tongue.  She slipped the middle finger
of her left hand between the lips of her sex as she began to suck in
earnest, the liquid she craved dribbling down the front of her chin as she
drank.

   As she continued to take in the strongly flavored milk she rubbed
herself faster between her legs, the buttons of her shorts coming apart
around her wrist.  Her middle finger curled itself inside her and her palm
ground iteslf against the top of her mound.  She stroked another of
Buttercup's dripping teats as she continued to draw milk from the one
between her lips, and the cow obviously took pleasure from the sensation,
her head hung low as she murred a constant, soft sound.  When Sarah felt
herself climax for the first time that morning, her thighs clamped on
either side of her hand, and she fell sideways into the straw, moaning out
loudly.  The other animals in the barn began to moo in response to her
cries as Buttercup's nipple slipped out of her open mouth and dribbled hot
milk across the side of her face.

   Sarah lay there in Buttercup's straw bed for several minutes, her eyes
closed, her breath shallow, until she felt a wide, warm, wet tongue sliding
over her milk-stained cheek.  When she opened her eyes she saw that
Buttercup had stepped over her and turned herself around so she could face
the panting woman.  Sarah smiled up at her and wrapped her arms around
Buttercup's head, and the animal lifted the woman with her powerful neck.
"I guess I got a little carried away there, didn't I girl?" She laughed as
she stood, her open shorts falling down over her naked thighs and calves.
She stepped out of them and kicked them to one side of the stall before
leading Buttercup back into her proper position and sitting, naked from the
waist down, on the wooden stool to finish the milking.