She Doesn't Need A Breast Pump

"Do you live in Tull 244?" You ask. You place a piece of straw in your mouth to look more rural, but spit it out because there is some dirt on it.

"Yup," she nods. You feel a flicker of disappointment. She's definitely cute. Definitely. And she''s got a rack that has your mouth watering a bit. Milking her would be an amazing experience. But, you expected it to be your cute asian crush. "I was freaked out about who might have found out. You can't have that kind of fact going around campus. But you seem like kind of a nice guy. Kind of a dork, but kind of a nice guy."

"Don't worry your secret is safe with me." You assure her. "In fact, I happen to find the prospect of a girl being milked to be a mighty fine sight."

"You flatter," she waves her hand. the smile on her face makes you think she doesn't mind flattery so much. Your eyes are drawn to her necklace. It has an emblem with a cowbell, nicely framed by the mounds of her breasts flanking it on either side. "So how exactly did you find out?"

"Oh, from your backpack. I have it right back there in the barn." You point backwards. "I found it lying in the quad so I tracked it down to your room. It has some automatic milkers in there, and they've clearly seen use."

You expect her to be overjoyed at the prospect of getting her backpack and it's precious contents back. What's a milker without her milker? Instead you just see her face twist into confusion. This is the exact moment when you realize the situation is about to get a whole lot stranger.

"I didn't lose a backpack." she says, dryly.

"What do you mean you didn't lose a backpack?" Comprehension starts to dawn. "You said, you lactate right? Well it had breast pumps. It would pretty much have to be yours...."

"Yeah, except I've never owned breast pumps in my life," before you can ask about that she rises to her feet. Then she turns around and bends over, giving you a savory look at her generous ass. You stare for a moment while she plays with the belt and zipper. The intensity of her curves gives her some trouble as she pulls the pants down, letting them bunch up near the top of her legs. Your eyes trace the line of her thin thong, giving you a generous view of her ass. But, then you catch something off. A black circle with a bold letter H dominates the center of her right ass cheek.

"I've never needed one. I'm an FDA registered Human Cow. My registration number is 13147. Hefner Farms is the legal owner of my body and it's products. Why would I own a breast pump?"