The Hucow's tits

"Tits. Definitely tits." You answer, utterly enraptured by the massive udders in front of you.

"Men." The green-haired hipster snorts and rolls her eyes at your selection before handing you two pairs of tubes that lead up through the rafters and across into the large refrigerated collection tank beyond. "Here, use these. The suction speed dial is to your left and make sure you spit in them first before applying them or else they won't seal. Got that?"

"Dial on the left. Spit in cups before using." You repeat.

"Good. I'll be round the back tending to Daisy if you need me." The barista smiles at you, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. You can't help but respond with a chuckle at the crazy situation that you have found yourself in.

It takes you a few seconds to work all of your spit into the rubber inner of the suction tubes, making sure they are sufficiently coated before turning the dial on the machine next to you. The thrum of the rather loud milking machine vibrates through the room and you look down at tubes' rubber lining pulse in and out in your hand. The green-haired barista can barely be seen now as she perches on her wooden stool, preparing her own even larger suction tube to be used on Daisy from behind.

'Here I go then...' You line up the tubes one by one against the hucow woman's nipples, watching them groan in relief as milk is drawn from each aching breasts and up the clear pipes, into the reservoir.

It takes you a minute to get the suction level just high enough to where they didn't fall off constantly. Daisy was now moaning and bucking uncontrollably causing you to peek to the side and glimpse the barista working her pulsing tube up and down on Daisy with practiced finesse.